#like this was quite literally my life until college but even then i still attended sda colleges so the science education was. lacking

[californiaquail]

insane take to read as a real life former homeschooler who was socially isolated and basically in a cult and was never taught science because jesus said no

[luvrsux]

“Taking His Anger Out”

word count: 4k

summary: you and ace have had a sweet relationship for years but as soon you’re both adults you’ve been arguing. ace only knows how to apologize in one way

cw: nsfw!! major swearing, arguing, mentions use of alcohol and drugs, fingering, creampie, degrading, minor cock warming

You and the infamous Portgas D. Ace were in a long term, romantic relationship for as long as you could remember. You recall him having a long arm around you when you threw your High School graduation cap in the year of completion. Even before then, the connection shared between you was unbreakable. Everyone figured you two would’ve been a couple sooner or later.

Now, you were a college student halfway in your studies. Life couldn’t have been better for you once you stood on your own two feet—especially in your own apartment you’ve been renting. Ace, though, attended a different school than you due to two different ambitions. Ace was a regular jock in highschool, so it was a no brainer that it overflowed into his college days. Parties, drinking and frequently being intoxicated was fueling Ace all throughout college. Although, from the two separate careers and buildings, you’d still welcome him in your home and vice versa a few times a week. Every night ended in the same fate. You two would share drinks, even roll a few joints to puff and pass time. Eventually, he’d rock your body until your eyes panned nothing but fuzz and the feeling of pure euphoria. The morning after was consistent. Ace would hold you close all night long, and resented the fact you had to get up bright and early for classes that day.

“No… stay with me”

Ace would murmur the words into your ear, it being the immediate cause of your defeat to procrastinate in bed a little longer. Other than drugs and sex, Ace loved napping or sleeping with you more than anything—especially after rocking your brains out silly.

Not everything stays perfect, though. Over the last few days, it was filled with nothing but sinister remarks and heated arguments. It was the end of the semester and stress was the only emotion you could feel and Ace was becoming a nuisance to you from his immature and irresponsible behavior. Granted, you were quite the party goer yourself, but Ace didn’t know when to stop. You hadn’t remembered the last time you two shared a wholesome, loving moment from the vast amounts of arguments. Now, laying on your cold and isolated bed, you rebooted the most recent argument in your head that was debatably the worst one yet.

“(F/N), what’s your problem?” Ace had a bare arm on your kitchen counter with an irritated expression. Your entire attire explained your current state; stressed and exhausted.

“My problem is you decided to burst into my house unannounced, high off your goddamn ass when I’m trying to study” You pinched your temple with a hand on your hip. You heard the jock scoff.

“So now all of sudden I can’t come over? We’ve been doing this for years now, do you not know that?” As you said, Ace wasn’t sober upon arrival. Due to this current argument, though, you managed to completely sober him up.

“That’s not the fucking point! I have literally been texting and calling you all night so you can come over, but when I give up and start focusing on myself you want to be an irresponsible moron!” You snapped back. Ace formed a sarcastic smile and poked his tongue from the inside of his cheek.

“I was at a party, I fucking told you! I can’t just have my eyes glued on my phone because of you, (F/N)! Plus, you act like you aren’t getting high off your own ass, don’t bring that shit!” Ace replied. His demeanor was going to make you explode.

“But you couldn’t check once? Seriously? I was worried, for fucks sake!”

“It’s not my fault you decided to rot in this fucking place all by yourself all the time! You could’ve came with” Ace gestured his arms to point to your home. “Hell, I should’ve dragged your ass if it meant I didn’t have to hear your mouth!”

“Wow,” You crossed your arms. “You are well aware I have finals coming up” You felt your chest tighten. “Actually, you don’t! Considering the fact you spend 90% of your college days partying and blacking out drunk!”

“Oh, sorry that I actually know how to have fun! Sorry I don’t want to be seen as boring” He hissed, referring to you.

“Fuck you, Ace! You’re so self absorbed you forgot who you even were, asshole!” Your voice cracked, signaling your emotions were about to take a toll on your own mental state.

“Fuck me?! I’m trying to understand where the hell this came from when I was trying to see my fucking girlfriend!” Ace pointed a hand at you, meanwhile you were trying to hold back any tears that dared to escape.

“Because I physically can’t fucking stand you, Ace! I can’t!” You saw Ace completely freeze. He felt his heart sting at your troubled words. Before he could consider that you were emotionally exhausted from school and it being the reason you spoke nonsense, he let his pride shield that completely.

“I’ve been trying to handle you and my own assignments at the same time but this is fucking insane! You are so inconsiderate, it’s baffling to me! Not everything revolves around you!” You spoke without thinking. In reality, you didn’t mean a single word that left your mouth but you didn’t know that.

“Consider the feeling mutual, (F/N)” Is all Ace said. You paused, heavily breathing.

“What?”

“I can’t fucking stand you anymore, (F/N)”

After his sinister statement, he grabbed his keys that laid on the marbled counter and approached the front door. Your guilt came flooding in like a tsunami.

“Wait- Baby, c’mon I didn’t mean it-“

“So why the hell did you say it? Hm?” You saw that he had tears in his eyes himself. He truly loved you, and every second with you. Through the good and the most ugly, the firm, fiery grip he had on your heart never loosened.

“Ace, I’m just-… I’m just stressed and you- C’mon babe you know I love you-“

“Cut that bullshit, (F/N)! You’ve made it very clear where your feelings are” His voice cracked, similarly to yours from a few moments ago.

“Just—… Leave me alone”

With that, all you were met with was the clicking sound the front door made when Ace made himself out.

You remember staring at the door in complete guilt and defeat. Surely you thought you single handedly ruined your entire relationship with one fight. The entire incident happened three whole nights ago, but it felt like it was just yesterday. There was no sign that Ace ended things between you, considering he’d keep his shared photos between you two all over social media—which you greatly appreciated. Your eyes were dry of tears after the quarrel, and all you could think about was your cowboy of a boyfriend.

Ace felt shattered by your words, but also his own actions. He only blamed you for the entire duration back to his own place. As soon as he secluded himself in the comfort of his shared apartment, he realized he should’ve been more considerate of your schedule. Ace also realized that he’s been rather a reckless student and a reckless boyfriend. In all honesty, you were the first serious relationship he had. Anything else prior were one night stands or quick week-long flings. The spell you put on him the day he set eyes on you is something he’d never forget, not even after his last breath of air escapes his lungs.

Ace tried substances to make him blur out the ordeal but nothing. He was saddened to see you hadn’t messaged him once, despite him asking him for space. He missed you, more than anything. His roommates, Sabo and Marco, pitifully watched him wallow. Ace thanked them, though, for at least trying to help him feel better with certain things.

You took it upon yourself to finally break the ice. You knew Ace wasn’t going to do it because he either was drowning in his own pride or was terrified you’d resent him for his actions. All you did was slip shorts under your oversized graphic tee and a pair of rundown sneakers.

“(F/N)?” You saw Sabo answer the door. Considering you’ve only spoken to your boyfriends brother a select few amount of times, and also the current situation he most likely knew about, you felt extremely awkward.

“Is Ace home?” Is all you asked. Sabo turned his head to peer to a Marco that looked just as clueless. Marco shot him a dumbfounded shrug for Sabo to turn back to you with a sigh.

“He is, but he’s kind of locked in his room” Sabo informed. The intel made your heart crack, knowing you were the cause of it. Sabo moved aside to let you in without another word.

“His room is down the hall” Sabo pointed as if you were completely foreign to his residence. You didn’t bat an eye to the blonde and strut down to Ace’s cove.

Your knuckle gently knocked on the door. Nothing. You drummed your knuckle on the wooden door again to finally get a response.

“Sabo, Marco… I really don’t care” He muffled through the door. You bit your lip from the sheer amount of nerves coursing your veins. You didn’t hesitate to turn the knob to burst into his room.

“Thats no way to treat your roommates”

You tried to lighten the room, which was barely illuminated. The street lights were the only light source inside. The pungent scent of earthy marijuanna and alcohol punched your nose like a boxer.

“(F/N)…?” Ace said weakly. His voice made you close the door behind for simple privacy. You heard Ace’s body shuffle to stand up and flick on his bedside lamp.

The light shined on Ace’s dead face. His eyes were swollen and framed by dark circles. It seemed as if he’d been in a miserable state for eons. His expression was newborn to you and nothing you were used to. The only thing that stayed were his, what only you described, cute freckles.

“Baby…” You whispered. The sight completely broke your heart more than it already was. You immediately ran to cup his face and sit beside him. You felt his body shake.

“Why are you here? You didn’t text me once” Ace moved your hands away, not knowing if he should be happy or angry at the mere sight of you.

“You said you wanted to be alone…” You replied. Ace averted eye contact and his eyes admitted defeat.

“I was also scared you were angry at me, which you should be” You continued. The jock slowly nodded his head up and down.

“Well, you’re right” He murmured. You felt a lump in your throat.

“Look, we both did unforgivable things, Ace. Let’s be honest…” You knew if you disagreed with him it’ll only create a back and fourth bicker.

“Especially you” He replied, standing his ground. You felt slightly offended by his words.

“Okay well, you were the one being inconsiderate” You reminded. Ace rolled his eyes.

“Don’t fucking start, babe…” He groaned.

“I’m starting now?” What you thought to be a comforting, civil conversation turned into yet another bicker.

“Oh, Jesus christ” He hissed.

You felt a strong hand grip your delicate throat. His sudden movement shocked the core out of you. You yelped and tried to stress your breathing that was slowly being restricted by your angry boyfriends hand.

“You don’t understand how badly I wanted to fucking see you. You take up most, if not all, of my brain but you just can’t seem to stop being an annoying little brat, can you?” Ace crept his face towards your own. The doe eyes you gave him did something lethal to him.

“A-Ace…” You tried to speak, only to receive a stronger grip. You couldn’t lie, you were enjoying your new necklace.

“Shut your pretty mouth, (F/N). You don’t know how badly I missed you, but you refuse to understand” He threw you on your back and hovered over you. His grip lightly loosened but never detached from your neck.

You felt his necklace press against your chest as he lowered his head to the crook of you neck. You felt his hot breathing on the lobe of your ear.

“I guess I’ll just have to show you what the fuck you’ve been doing to me, slut”

His devilish voice zapped your very core. Ace finally parted his hand from your neck and lifted your rugged tee to expose your chest.

“Seriously? No bra? It’s like you wanted me to fuck you after our little reunion” He cupped one of your breasts into his hand, letting the sensitive bud poke in between his fingers. He groped and fondled them with force, pulling on your buds to get a yelp out of you.

“Ace…~” You whimper. He was completely giving you whiplash from his sudden shift but you couldn’t complain. Sure, you’d have amazing sex with Ace frequently but this was a rare sight.

“I missed that pathetic voice, baby” He said with a hoarse tone. He didn’t stop pleasuring your chest and bowed down to crash his lips against your own with passion.

You synced your lips with his familiarly. It became muscle memory at this point. You two would exhale in the middle of the kiss and he’d grunt from his own excitement. Ace parted his lips from yours to leave a trail of sweet, dark lovemarks and bites. He wanted to mark what was rightfully his, and you adored it.

You latched a hand on his head to grip his dark locks. You heard a shaken groan leave his lips while he was in the middle of going to town on your neck and collarbone. You knew he absolutely thrived for your grip on his shaggy hair.

“I’m gonna make you feel like your legs are gonna fall off, baby~” He breathed out. You felt his rough hands grip the sides of your thighs.

“Yes, sir” That name made Ace go crazy. He jerked his body off your upper half and focus on what was important. He yanked off your loose shorts and press his two digits against your entrance. Your slit throbbed at his mere touch. Ace would feel the wetness seeping through your lace.

“Good, the bratty slut is already ready for me” He chuckled. This index and middle trailed up and down your slit teasingly. Ace was ready to tear you apart like he hadn’t stretched you out in ages, but teasing you was a more pleasurable sight.

“Please, Ace…” You murmur submissively. The eyes that were once admiring your laced entrance glistened up at your, what can only be described as pathetic to Ace, face.

“Please what, doll?” He cooed. Ace slowly peeled the cloth that covered your wetness to the side for him to gently caress it. The mere feeling on his fingertips was enough for him to bite his lower lip. You couldn’t stop your submissive whimpers and moans.

“C’mon, (F/N). Use your words” He rubbed your throbbing bud with a single finger in a circle. The sensitive feeling coursed through your body like never before. Ace longed for an answer to come out your lips.

“Please… Please f-fuck me~” You stammered. Those words were enough for Ace to shove his two digits inside your warm entrance. The velvet walls wrapped around his fingers tightly.

You released a small yelp as you felt him plunge his fingers without a single warning. He didn’t hesitate to quicken his pace, leaving you no room to think or react.

You felt your hands grip the sheets with pleasure. Ace made sure to curve his fingers to perfectly kiss your g-spot with every thrust. At this point, his two roommates were on the verge of hearing your lustful noises from outside.

The walls around Ace’s finger began to tighten around him. He felt you spasm your legs and buck your hips into his fingers, growing more and more desperate to reach your climax—but Ace didn’t agree. As your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled, he plucked his now sticky, dewed fingers out of your cave.

“I wanna feel you cum on something else, baby. Be a good girl and wait a little longer”

You whines in response. Your pussy was throbbing, screaming for more of Ace’s touch or something even more. You rubbed your legs together in protest as your impatience grew while watching Ace undo his pants.

“I said…” He breathed. Before you knew it, you were thrown on your stomach with your rear propped up in front of him. You moaned at Ace’s aggressive touch, and it only risen once you felt his hand forcefully plunge your head into the cushioned bed.

“Be fucking patient, you whore”

He growled. His other hand guided his hardened member along your soaked slit, teasing you a little bit more. You felt completely pathetic under Ace’s control. Sure, he was needy and rough, but this dominance was only occasional. Only when you were really getting on his nerves; like today.

You continued to whine at the feeling of Ace trace his member along your lips and clit. You were getting beyond antsy to feel him spread your walls further out with the girth of his cock.

“Stop teasing, baby” You murmur, only for it to be muffled from the mattress. “I.. I need you~”

Ace’s hand trailed from your messy hair to the back of your neck, giving it a tender squeeze. He merely slid the tip in, making your body’s neediness spike.

“Of course you do, you slut. You can’t even wait a few seconds, sweetheart”

He pulled his tip out to form a small string of juices connecting you two. As soon as it snapped, Ace plunged his member with every last inch inside of you. He smashed against your cervix like a collision on the freeway. Nothing prevented you from screaming at the top of your lungs from the immense pleasure from one thrust. You heard Ace hiss and groan when he felt himself enter you.

He moved the hand that was once at your neck to your drooling mouth. Your light moans and whimpers now muffled once again.

“Be fucking quiet, yeah? Sabo and- ngnnh~ Marco are still awake” Ace ordered. All you could muster up was a submissive nod.

Ace pulled your body slightly upward to get a better grip of your mouth and clamped his hands on the fats of your thighs, making perfect handles for the cowboy.

Ace plowed your body like it was the last day on Earth. His palm grew wet from your saliva but he didn’t mind one bit. Ace grunted loudly and your muffled moans didn’t make a difference. You two were still loud, loud enough for the two poor roommates to hear absolutely everything.

“Fuuuuuck” Ace extended his words while he went ballistic on your pussy. Your eyes rolled back as you let your angry boyfriend scramble your mind until it went blank. All that was filled in the room was the musk scent of the two bodies colliding, the sloppy, slushing sounds of skin smacking and lustful, loud noises escaping the both of you.

Ace learned to not care about your volume and turn his palm into two fingers in your mouth. He loved the way your noises projected once he removed the very thing that muffled your noise.

“Yeah, keep screaming like that from my dick- unghh~” Ace spoke breathlessly in your ear. He bit your ear lobe, causing another source of sensation from your body.

“Oh-! Oh, fuck~” You managed to speak out. Your previous climax crept back up again. Ace noticed your walls spasm and tighten around his speeding member.

“Gonna cum? You gonna cum all over my cock, huh?” You could hear the devilish grin plastered widely on his face by his words. You nod frantically.

“Yes, sir~! I’m gonna cum- mmph~!!” Your moans got reckless and completely messy once you reached your climax. Ace didn’t slow down a single minute. He speedily penetrated you through each moment, making your orgasm completely flatline your brain. You don’t remember moaning so loud in your life, you were sure you’d lose your voice.

“Ace, Ace~! I’m f-fucking cumming~!” You cried. At this point, the entire apartment complex could hear you.

Ace chuckled at your reaction, never daring to stop for a single second. He enjoyed watching your juices spurt out on his pelvis, dripping down both of his and your legs. You felt the high libido driven boy force you back down on the bed, practically suffocating you with the pillows scattered among it.

“My fu- ugh~… My fucking turn” He groaned. Ace gripped both of his rough hands on your hips and slammed your whole body against his pelvis. Each thrust rewarded him in a lustful scream from you.

“Aaaaaace~” You longingly moaned, your voice wobbling as your body was forcefully being rammed into. He let out a loud grunt at your voice.

“You want it?” He breathed. You nodded in the sheets.

“Y-Yes, please!”

“How bad?”

The mountain of pleasure clouded your will to speak, making it harder to form out words.

“I said how bad, slut!” Ace harshly slapped your ass, leaving a bright red mark to stay. You shrieked.

“So fucking baaaad~!” You extended your words again, similarly like before when you called his name. Your answer pleased your boyfriend and you could feel his grip get tighter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby” He groaned. At this point, your body was shaking like a leaf in the blistering winter. The pleasure was overstimulating you beyond belief. Ace had officially broke your entire mind.

“F-Fuck, Im cumming!” You felt his member twitch inside of you. You formed a devilish grin as you felt his thick, warm seed erupt inside of your core. Ace didn’t stop. He kept thrusting for a little longer until he dumped his last few drops of his cum. He let out one last groan.

“Fuck me, (F/N)…” He left his raw cock bake inside of you for a few moments as he caressed your back gently. You were heavily breathing out a lung, completely worn out from Ace’s monstrous endurance.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” He cooed. You felt a more pleased smile crack in your lips. Ace finally, and slowly, pull out his sticky, drenched member to watch all of his seed pour outside of you. You whimpered feeling it ooze out of your body.

Ace mesmerized the sight as if it were a renaissance painting. He noticed that your knees were on the verge of giving out and quickly cleaned yourself up with whatever nearby shirt he had laying around.

Your vision was trying to collect itself after getting your consciousness fucked out of you. You felt brute hands lift you up comfortably on the bed followed by the same arms to pull you into warm embrace. The same embrace you’ve longed for as long as you can remember.

“I still love you, more than ever, my sweet (F/N)” You heard Ace’s soothing tone clear as day while he caressed your exhausted face.

“I’m sorry…” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, tenderly pressing your body against his.

“I’m sorry too, my love… I’ll be more considerate of you” He rubbed your back as he hugged you into his chest. His grip was so heavy that you’d think you’d disappear if he let go.

“You mean so much to me…” Ace yawned. “I love you” He repeated.

“I love you, too…”

You both drifted to your long awaited slumber at the embrace of each other. He had a hand on the back of your head and an arm wrapped around your fetal positioned body.

It was safe to say this was the last argument you two had for a long while.

all licensing and ownership belong to eiichiro oda

[mrxadreamin]

"Wait, I need to delete my browser history first!" – Jeon Chiaki, Son of Solomon, Circa. 2024

After a millenia(not really), I finally made an oc for WHB and I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders!

With that, I offer you my son, Chi-chi Jeon Chiaki <3 now if you will excuse me I am going to rest my achey hands adjfgfdhd

Voice Actors:

(KR)Lee Sang-ho (Lilac Cookie from Cookie Run Kingdom, Wise from Zenless Zone Zero)

(EN)Howard Wang (Xie Lian from TCGF, Louis from Morariarty the Patriot)

(JP)Daiki Yamashta (Ritsu Sakuma from ensemble stars)

Personality: Most of the time Chiaki is level-headed and calm, not one to jump the gun onsite. Also quite sarcastic and sassy, it’s a form of coping as well as a defense mechanism for himself. Despite his calm demeanor, he’s not the type to sit back and take things. As someone who’s quite observant, he’s the type to analyze first and act after. However, all trains of thought are gone when his loved ones are on the line and his fury will set ablaze that even makes Satan blush(literally…). Chiaki, despite having gone through enough, has carried an outlook on life that extends far beyond optimism, always the type to believe that things will turn out okay while sticking to reality. In his own way, Chiaki can be rather playful and cheeky with most and due to his charm alone, he can coax others into doing what he wants to meet his own goals– for the greater good of course! Considering his past experiences, he acts as a maternal figure for many, especially those who lacked such internal warmth, but has a spot big enough for Chiaki to hold them. Chiaki is a chivalrous pervert, but with some virtue. He tends to get distracted by his own lewd thoughts and has always been open about his sexuality. Sex positive, Chiaki indulges others in their sexual interests and endeavors! Interestingly enough, he’s also one of the densest people on Earth, so it will take a lot for his man to even get a single hint!

Confidence point: Shoulders and thighs

Favorite food(s): grilled brisket

Hobby: writing songs and reading erotica novels

Ideal Type: someone more dependable and carefree

Backstory: Chiaki had a loving childhood, his mother was a piano teacher and his father was a lawyer. Coming from a humble past, he wanted to get involved with music like his mother. Thus, he aspired to be a songwriter and musician when he grew older, but that dream was crushed when he lost his family at an early age and was later taken in by Minhyeok and his family. Chiaki had nothing left from them except for a key necklace that his father gave to him. “No matter what, hold onto this, there will be a time when you will need it most,” his father urged, only a few days before he was brutally murdered alongside his wife. Chiaki didn’t get what his father meant–not until he witnessed his best friend getting hurt right before his eyes and having made a contract with the King of Fury to save him. Only then did he truly understand.

Trivia:

Is bisexual, and is a verse-switch(do not let his looks fool you!). Learned that he was bi when he was around 14 years old and his first crush was Minhyeok.

Before he went to hell, he worked at a bookstore and also read to children on occasion. Also worked part time at a music store and would teach music lessons on occasion.

Attended the same college as Minhyeok as a Music theory major, with a minor in  Literature

Talented singer and dancer. When he was still attending university, he would be seen dancing in the studio or recording songs in one of booths of the music buildings.

Knows how to play guitar and piano. Knows music theory.

Having lost his family, he learned to cook for himself and with the help of Minhyeok.

His father is Korean and his mother is Japanese. 

Speaks both Korean, Satoori, and Japanese. Satoori comes out when he’s angry.

Does in fact have a skin care routine even after descending to hell.

His favorite sanrio characters are Kuromi and Pochacco 

Before his ascension to Hell, some of his friends called him Qiqi because he used to play genshin impact(or whatever equivalent), and whenever he pulled for a character, he got Qiqi instead, losing the 50/50. They also call him Chichi due to his "impressive" chest size, which he refuses to acknowledge.

Has written and composed his own songs, some of which are saucy, raunchy in their own way. He keeps them in a journal, but regrets not taking said journal with him before leaving to Hell.

Going in depth with his hobbies aside from songwriting, he collects erotica novels and manga, but doesn’t have a porn collection like the original mc, but that doesn’t mean he owns a few toys himself.

owns a light purple galaxy z flip5, but uses it for selfies and nudes. He uses the phone Satan gave him for contacts.

In terms of combat, he was able to wield various weapons during his time in hell, more specifically weapons made of Sitri's blood. He wields both a glade and a hammer.

Can make barriers out of silver/gold

Can summon large extraterritorial monsters from his coffin(given by Leviathan) and hang people on command if need be.

Design Notes:

Character inspo: Cealus and Dr. Ratio(Hontai Star rail), Epel Felmier(twst), Eiden(Nu:Carnival), Shoto(Vtuber/indie), Uki Violeta(Noctyx, Nijisanji EN), Solomon(Obey me & WHB), Joenghan(Seventeen)

concept outfit: white v-line shirt, dark purple cuffed pants, white converse(platforms), and has a purple cardigan/jacket. 

Chiaki is a man of comfortability hence he would be seen wearing cardigans, sweaters, etc.

His main outfit as derived from Eiden(Nu:carnival) but instead of a jacket, I decided that a cardigan would fit him best due to lax personality and nature. Not to mention his previous occupation as a bookseller/keeper and a music tutor and musician.

Since his favorite color is purple, he can be seen wearing lots of cool, warm purples and sometimes blues and pinks.

Relationships

[angelst4re]

Hi love! I hope you're doing great. Could I request a Jamie x trans!male where reader is an actor on stranger things with Jamie, except nobody knows that he is trans (because it's not important obviously!) Only Jamie knows, as he is his partner. They attend a comic con and for some reason, a "fan" who maybe happens to know reader pre transition? Basically outs him. Something like "why haven't you told people you are trans?" And reader sort of dissociates. Jamie takes readers hand and pulls him off stage to comfort him and reassure him! Lots of fluff please!!

Something very similar happened to me. I was joining a DnD club and my friend at the time said Infront of them "they know you're trans right?" Which SUCKED because I pass really well! I just wish Jamie could have rescued me 😂

hi my love!!! i really liked writing this it was such a nice idea and i just think that jamie fluff>>> and i'm so sorry that happened to you :( i also wish jamie could've come to the rescue!!!

Comfort- Jamie Campbell Bower x Trans!Male Reader

summary: in the request! :)

warnings: none??

notes: i can't wait to finish college and work placement so i have more time to write <3 i'm hoping to be done by the 10th of july so i may not post much more before then? (it's literally only in 10 days <3)

When you were told you got the role as a ‘friendly orderly’ in stranger things, you knew everything in your life would be a little different. You were invited to premieres and award shows and exclusive parties you never thought you would’ve been let in to before, it really helped your acting career take off. You had a handful of loyal fans and supporters in the beginning, and that has only grown and grown given your role in the new show. And also your boyfriend. 

You met Jamie on set, of course, and even filmed a few scenes together and the tension between the two of you was undeniable. You both got along so well, and you couldn’t deny he was insanely attractive, even when the two of you were in character you found yourself forgetting lines and blushing at the eye contact you two had to hold. 

It took a while for the two of you to go public, you worried about the reactions from his fans, whether they would like you and accept you or not. But there was nothing to worry about at all. They adored you. 

When it was announced that a certain comic con was coming up, and that you and Jamie were both invited and would both be doing photos together, everyone rushed to buy tickets to meet you and him, and although you were obviously excited, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

“Are you okay, love?” Jamie asked, taking your hand in his. You were both sitting in the back of the car that was escorting you to the event. 

“I’m not sure.” You frowned, fiddling with one of the rings of Jamie’s fingers. “I’ve never done something quite like this before.”

“It’ll be okay, it can get really stressful when everyone’s being made to rush, but it’s really more fun than anything. I still remember my first comic con, I was scared shitless,” Jamie chuckled as he thought back on the memory, “but it’ll be okay, okay? I’ll be with you for most of the day, and when I’m not there will still be someone with you at all times. Everything will be okay, I promise.” He said before taking your hand and placing a kiss on the back of your palm, “oh look, we’re here.” 

Everything will be okay. 

Everything will be okay.

Everything started off okay. You weren’t expecting so much love from everyone that came to see you, and you weren’t expecting so many gifts either. Your arms were full of bracelets they had made or bought for you and your neck was decorated with different necklaces. Maybe Jamie was right. 

Everything will be okay. 

That was until it was time for the q&a at yours and Jamie’s panel. 

“So, I have a question for y/n,” you felt a tinge of anxiety, as most of the questions were for Jamie, but you nodded your head and gave the person a smile. “I’ve been a fan of your work for a while now, I’ve basically been there since the beginning, so I was just wondering why haven’t you told people that you’re trans?”

You felt cold rush through your body, as if your veins had turned to ice. You felt your stomach sink and everything around you seemed to be a blur. All you could hear was the continuous thumping of your heart in your chest. Your mind felt… empty, as if you had no thoughts at all. But then you heard Jamie’s voice, you couldn’t work out what he was saying, but you knew it was him. 

“Pardon my language,” he began, raising his hand as if to excuse the rest of the crowd from what he was about to say, as he stared the person down as he spoke, “but why the fuck would he need to explain himself? That’s my boyfriend, and he almost didn’t come today because he was worried about cunts like you. If he wanted everyone to know, he would’ve told them, if you’re really a ‘fan’, like you say you are, you should’ve fucking known that.” 

Jamie placed the mic down on the floor as he followed you off stage. He felt a bit bad for the fans that had been waiting all day for the panel and had spent money on it, but right now you were his top priority. He guided you out to one of the private designated smoking areas, glad that no one else was around. 

“Jamie…” You murmured, your hands shaking by your sides. 

“Breathe, okay. Just like me, in… and out… and in…” 

He attempted to calm you down, to ground you again, and it was proving to be successful. 

“I just wanted the ground to swallow me up,” you confessed, “I just- I don’t understand.” 

Jamie kissed your forehead and ran his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. The feeling of not wanting to be here, knowing this could have been avoided, the fact that you were overwhelmed, you felt sick, and cold, and tired, and just your overall adoration for Jamie, it had all built up. You wrapped your arms around your boyfriend and buried your face in his chest, beginning to feel tears stain Jamie’s jumper. 

Jamie’s hands rubbed your back as he held you close, a small act that comforted you. This is all you need right now, to know he’s got you. He swayed you both side to side a little bit, kissing your forehead before resting his chin atop your head. 

“Have I told you how good you look today?” Jamie asked, and the corners of your mouth lifted into a smile. 

“You always do, J.” 

“And I always mean it,” he said softly.

“I don’t know if I want to go back out there.” You frowned, looking towards the door. 

“Then it’s a good job we don’t have to. We were leaving after that anyway.” 

“I just can’t believe they said that, though. I knew one day something was bound to come out but I thought I’d- I mean, I feel like- I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jamie soothed you, his hand gently placed on your cheek as he stopped you from overwhelming yourself again, “you didn’t know this was going to happen, okay? And I swear nothing’s going to change. I’ve always got you, never forget that, love.” 

“I know, Jamie, but my phone- I’m going to get flooded by comments and messages and-”

“Hey,” he took you by the shoulders, causing your attention to be back on him, “that doesn’t matter.” He said with a smile, “how about we get away for the weekend, just you and me. No phones, no social media, let’s just give it some time to calm down, okay? I don’t want you to get upset, seeing you like this just tears me apart. I love you so much, don’t forget that, darling.”

You smiled back at him, feeling tears begin to gloss your eyes again. However, these were happy tears. 

“How about we just leave, I just want to go home.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Jamie smiled as his hand continued to rub your back.

[natasha-in-space]

Hi Mia, I know I am an anonymous stranger asking you this so if you'd rather not answer feel free to delete

I wanted to ask, what was it like right after dropping out of college? What did you do afterwards?

It's no problem at all, anon! I've kinda talked about it in my tags from time to time, so it's not something I'm particularly ashamed of. (usually that is)

And, uh.... fair warning, this is gonna get kind of dark and probably a bit depressing. I do occasionally mention my experiences on here in passing, but I tend to not talk about them in depth. So... kind of a CW for talks of past child abuse (I don't go in depth but it's implied) and severe mental health issues.

So, thing is, I was kind of forced to drop out. Though it was still technically my choice. But, at the same time, I don't think I had much of a choice, if that makes sense. As a teen, I hated school, and while I was a what you would call a 'gifted kid', adored by teachers and envied by classmates, I didn't put much effort or passion into my studies. I did finish school with pretty good grades, though. Got into college. It was there when I actually started to enjoy the process of learning and education as a whole. I went from being a pretty good student to quite literally one of the best once I started actually putting in the effort to study instead of just winging it by as I did before that.

But I also started off my independent life when I was in college. It should have been a good thing. And it was a good thing. (You're gonna hear lots of contradicting statements here, and that's something I had to accept). I finally got out of the abusive environment I've spent my entire life in. But, thing is, I learned the hard way that just getting out is not enough to actually get better. Once I was out, finally safe and free to do whatever I want with no danger or restrictions, I paradoxically fell into the darkest mental space I've ever been in. Now that I'm older, I know that it's unfortunately normal for abuse survivors. But I didn't back then. I had no friends because I used to be an anxious, traumatized teenager with undiagnosed autism who had no idea how to socialize, nor did she really want to. And I never got to grow out of that, despite now being an adult, living on my own and making my own choices. Thus, came the consequences of my antisocial lifestyle up until that point. I had no one to talk to. No one to help me out with the groceries, studies, anything really. I was completely and utterly on my own, and before that, I thought that that's the way I want to be.

But I felt lost, lonely, and depressed. It got so bad that I would sometimes spend an entire day stuck in bed, not doing anything, including eating, brushing my teeth or changing clothes. Basically, depression in its clearest. Like I said, I didn't have a support system. I was on my own, and it's kind of my own fault that it got like this. Yes, I was hurt and traumatized, but I was also highly avoidant and distant from everyone, even those who genuinely had good intentions. I still deal with my avoidant attachment style up to this day, because I know it's not healthy.

I had the 'everyone will hurt me, no one will understand me, so I'm safest by myself' mentality. Don't do that. Isolating yourself like that will only make it worse. Had to learn that the hard way.

Long story short, I dropped out. I couldn't handle studying, and I needed help. I wasn't attending my classes, I had no motivation to even make myself food, much less study, and I lost all sense of hope for the future. Was I happy with my choice? No, I was heartbroken over it. I felt like a failure. I still do, honestly. Most people my age have at least one degree, some even more. They have friends and connections they've made in college. Experiences I never got to have, and probably never will, because I am not getting younger. Some have successful careers that I am amazed by. Some married and even had kids. Meanwhile, I'm still stuck figuring myself out, without much to my name. Because I never really got to grow up. It's hard not to feel like I'm missing out. But I try not to think about it.

I went into therapy, I slowly but surely have gotten better. It was a long process. I've stumbled and given up many times. Unpacking all of my trauma and how it effected me into adulthood was debilitating and painful. You have to deal with the fact that you were robbed of the chance to have a normal, happy life, and you can't do anything about it. There was some morbid comfort in thinking that 'there is something wrong with me'. It gave me a sense of control. If it's my fault I felt useless and unmotivated, then I could fix it. Even if I never actually did that. But accepting that all of this misery is actually a consequence of someone else's actions that have hurt you this deeply... it makes you feel helpless and angry. Like there is nothing you can do.

But it does get better. Doesn't get perfect. I still have bad days, and I still feel pretty lost in life, to be honest. I have no idea what I want to do. Nor do I have any plans for the future. But I do want to go to college one day. I love learning and I enjoy challenging my brain with new tasks to try and overcome. I would do that right now, if it wasn't as expensive as it is. I cannot afford higher education. I would risk it and take out a loan if I had confidence that I will be able to get a job and pay it off after getting my degree. But I don't. Because tons of folks with degrees cannot find a job for months on end, and I see how miserable it makes them. And I'd much rather have some stability in my life.

I got a job that I actually find joy in, though I don't think I'll be doing that for the rest of my life. I got a lovely circle of friends that I can rely on. I got a creative hobby there to keep me happy. It's not ideal, but I'm content with my life, and sometimes I'm even happy. I have no idea what the future will bring, but, honestly, I'd much rather focus on today and now.

I guess that's all to say that... dropping out is not always pretty and freeing. Then again, there's a difference between dropping out because you have no further intention to continue your studies, and dropping out due to circumstances out of your control. But it's not the end of the world. You stumble, you fall and you even regress, but you somehow get back up again. You find new things to do and enjoy. Life goes on. And it's still worth living for.

[docnomore]

Odd thoughts and old topics rarely discussed. My youngest son, working on his masters degree in ancient languages - who is not the physical/manual laboring type, helped me yesterday. In gratitude I took him to breakfast this morning for the two of us to eat, plus tip, cost $60.

Sitting across from me, looking at him, he brought back memories from the early to mid 1980’s. More than slightly over weight, full head of hair - still off the collar, wire framed glasses and a beard and mustache. Literally looks like a few typical CIA bubbas with whom I worked including an old friend whose name I cannot mention.

Like me, my friend worked both the Far East and Southwest Asia (AKA: SWA pronounced “Swah”). He’d returned to the states and while crossing a one way street in DC, a car going the wrong direction hit and killed him. It was a rental car, later found abandoned and the driver had left the country - diplomatic immunity. My friend was given a quiet, unceremonious funeral in our home state with his obituary stating that he was a banker and died of a car accident. I miss him. He was good company.

My son reminded me of him along with the much older versions of the same with whom I’d worked in Mogadishu. Sitting there at breakfast took me back to when I was his age. My son literally slept through K-12 school. His senior year was spent teaching elementary math to high school students who never learned to add, subtract, multiply or divide. He also spent his senior year in the computer lab grinding out programs for teachers he didn’t even like.

After high school, he insisted that he hated the whole education process and wanted nothing to do with any of it. Again, he’s not the physical/menial labor type. He belongs in higher education. I gave him a job working for me. I also gave him every scut job that needed doing until he quit. He got a job working at the local grocery where the indigent shop (where I shop). His job there was aisle clean up and retrieving shopping carts from the parking lot. He very quickly decided this too was not his idea of a good time.

We talked him into giving us a year at the local community college. Told him to knock out the basic requisites for an associates degree and while he was at it to look for and take two classes per semester in odd ball subjects that might prove interesting to him. He agreed and in the process, fell in love with Latin and Ancient Greek. The last two weeks of his junior year at the university, he begged permission to turn in all late assignments even if it only got him half credit. The prof.s agreed, probably believing he would not deliver. Instead of three weeks, he did it in two. At his graduation, I was introduced to those professors all of whom spoke highly of him. They gave him full credit and told him that all he need do was apply for the masters and they would guarantee him a seat. He’s taking a year off.

My goal is two fold. First, to try an prevent “life” from taking over while he’s on hiatus. And second, to re enforce in him that some of us have business to attend to at the stratospheric levels of the education system. Some, maybe and still others, none what so ever. And that each of us has to both play the hand we’re dealt and to work to our strengths while developing our weaker sides. So yesterday, I put a shovel in his hand and put him to work in the 100+ degree heat. Reminding him of muscles he didn’t know he has and the sting of blisters. He needs to ready himself for school. I love him, even if he does remind me of bubbas with whom I kicked around in my former life.

[littledreamling]

For your ask thing (if you're still doing it): 30, 38, 50

Hello! Thanks for the ask! I wasn't sure which ask game you wanted me to answer so I'm answering this with my spotify wrapped fic ask game!

30. For Tonight by Giveon: For this song, I would probably write a modern human AU; Hob and Dream are both college students (maybe even roommates) who absolutely hate each other. Hob is far too upbeat and optimistic for Dream and Dream is too surly and prideful for Hob. They're constantly complaining about each other to their friends (in Hob's case) and family (in Dream's case). Finally, the tension snaps and they fall into bed with each other for a fantastic round of hate sex. They both hate themselves for it after and vow never to speak of it again, but neither of them can stop thinking about it, especially because they live in the same room (though Dream tries his best to avoid Hob at all costs, even going so far as to sleep on Death's couch for a week until she kicks him out to face his own problems). Hob eventually corners Dream to try to talk about it, but they end up having sex again without resolving anything and it becomes something of a habit. They hate each other, they'll complain loudly and at length to anyone who asks, but they're also hooking up regularly and it's a very complicated situation. Dream has had his heart broken too many times to be able to commit to anything while Hob pours his whole heart into everything and feels very rejected by Dream's inability to even talk about it. It all comes to a head when Hob, pushed past his limits, brings another guy back to the room to hook up and Dream is finally forced to confront just how deep his feelings for Hob are.

38. Monsters by Hazlett: This song is very difficult, mostly because the lyrics (for me personally) don't really resonate; I just love the vibes, but it gives off the energy of loving life without having any real direction and finding out who you are through experimentation. For this song, I would probably write a fic about Hob living his best life even without Dream. It would be set in the late sixties and early seventies, right at the height of Woodstock, drug culture, and the hippie movement of free love and opposing war. I feel like Hob would've experimented a lot with sex and drugs at the time, especially because he couldn't get STDs or overdose, so he could quite literally go as wild as he wanted. It would probably be a collection of vignettes of Hob trying various things out; getting high, going to an orgy, protesting against war in the US against Vietnam, participating in the Civil Rights Movement, attending music festivals, and just fully immersing himself in the hippie (and yippie) culture. But I'm still on the fence about this answer, so if I come up with a better one, I'll put it in the notes!

50. Wherever I Fall - Pt. 1 by Bryce and Aaron Dessner from the Cyrano Soundtrack: I actually have a fic planned out for this song because I cry every time I listen to it. The general premise is that, the first time Hob went to war, before he met Dream, his regiment was given a suicide mission; they knew that the chances of survival were slim to none. The night before marching out, the only literate man among them went around to each soldier, asking who they would be leaving behind and if they wanted to send a letter home for their loved ones in order to say goodbye. One by one, each soldier tells their story: their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, wives, fiancees, best friends, etc.

Years later, after Hob gets his immortality, he remembers how much that gesture meant to him and the rest of his regiment to have someone write down their words and promise to deliver them. He takes it upon himself to learn how to read and write, if only so he can ensure that his fellow soldiers' last words make it to their loved ones. He can't die, so he might as well use that to make sure that the people who do get to say goodbye

Anyway, that got sad, but thank you so much for the ask!!

[greatestlost]

(—) ★ spotted!! LEAH KENNEDY on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 21 year old looks like KAIA GERBER, but i don’t really see it. while  the SOCIALITE is known for being SINCERE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be PROMISCUOUS.  i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song YOU’RE GONNA GO FAR BY NOAH KAHAN {she&her/ cisfemale}

leah has quite literally always been in the public eye - her mother was pregnant with leah during the first season of kicking it with kennedy’s, and the first season’s finale featured heavily on leah’s birth

she was america’s baby girl basically !!! everyone felt like they were connected to leah since they got to watch her grow from day one

being the youngest presented her the most opportunities because everyone knew the kennedy kids were gonna be stars by the time she could form a full sentence

in interviews leah would always get asked “do you ever wish you were a normal kid?” but like, that wasn’t a thing for her. leah grew up with paparazzi at every dance lesson, every birthday party, even her kindergarten graduation

all the kennedy kids had their things and leah ultimately made hers dancing where she danced at a highly prestigious, and incredibly expensive, dance studio for a good chunk of her life

she was talented and her teacher adored her so she got countless solos, got entered into every competition, and spent more hours learning with her teachers in private lessons than she did on school work 

with the combination of kiwtk and her dance prowess, leah was sought out for nearly every role in film and television that required a dance role

she loved dancing and even loved acting, and by age twelve decided that one of those would be her careers

besides growing up in the spotlight, leah grew up as normal as she could until around fourteen when she started high school and life kind of hit her like a ton of bricks

the stress of acting, dancing, and the reality show caught up with her and she just couldn’t handle it

her dance lessons went from nearly twelve a week to four times a week, causing concern for her family, her dance teachers, and even the public

rumors started spiraling and everything from a pregnancy scandal to a secret cocaine addiction was thrown around

the truth was she was just stressed and she wasn’t the six year old prima ballerina that everyone wanted her to be still

she found that nothing made her feel better ,,, except for sex!!! it was such an endorphin rush and a lot of times she was able to find boys who were friends of friends of friends so of course they drooled at the chance to sleep with the kennedy baby and she saw an opportunity for stress relief and someone to rant about life to for a hour

the habit continued on for years and led to her getting a reputation of a slut with tabloid articles entitled “leah kennedy’s body count: higher than her networth?!” which hurt her like a bitch

leah was a crybaby and sensitive and cared way too much about what people thought of her so the mean comments about her sleeping around pushed her into quite literally the only coping skill she had, you guessed it, sleeping around!

by the time she was eighteen and old enough to attend college, leah came up with the grand idea of moving abroad and going to some rich bitch school in england

she moved away and tried to hide her identity but of course it didn’t work, and after two years she kind of hated being away from home. the only reason she left home was to escape her reputation, but it followed her around (mostly because she never found a new coping mechanism and besides, sex sells)

leah has been back in california for just about a year and she’s been able to book a few acting roles to occupy her time but now every time she gets a role, people ask if she’s sleeping with the director

leah is basically in a catch twenty two: sex makes her feel better. her reputation of a slut makes her feel worthless.

wanted connections can be found here. pinterest can be found here. 

[0613magazine]

221010 Proof Collector's Edition

Jimin

Between the past, present, and future, which one do you think of as most important?

In the past, I thought the future was more important because I knew exactly what I was dreaming about. More than thinking about what kind of situation I was in right now, I thought more about what I should do to look even better in the future. But now I think ‘present’ is more important. I don’t think that the past of me is that important either.

The word “past” what does it mean to you?

I think it’s something that can hold/support my present self. 

What is your first-ever memory?

This is a memory that grazed my mind one day. I think I was around two years old, I slightly remembered my father putting me on top of a green table and taking a picture. So I asked my mother if it was right, and my mother showed me the picture and asked me how I was remembering it. I think that would be my first-ever memory.

Another strong memory is, I moved when I was five and at that time I was holding a rice cooker. My job was to hold the rice cooker. At that time I was very excited but it was later on when I found out that we had to move because our family situation wasn’t good. My younger self was just excited holding the rice cooker by himself.

Is there something you miss from life when you were young?

When we shot the music video for ‘Permission to Dance’, we shot it with little kids. During that time, I just said ‘I’m tired’ and the little kids hugged me. At that moment, I thought that I would have had times when I was like this too. I miss the untainted pure innocence, beauty, and such. 

What is your first meaningful place/space?

Practice room. There was a practice room that I used to dance in when I was in middle school. Coming up to high school, I had the dance room, during when I was a trainee, I had the practice room that many of our fans know. Because the practice room is the place I first started my dream, the practice room, the start of it, pops into my head first. 

When was the “Moment of Proof”?

When I got confirmed as a member of this team. I think that was luck. So proving that I have the qualification as a member of this team is an important task of proof. 

If I can prove it, I think that moment would be the ‘Moment of Proof’ but I still need to go through it so I am not sure when that moment will come.

Not to the world but is there something you want to prove to yourself?

I ask myself a lot, ‘Could I be more cool/awesome?’ For me, that is a very important part. Can I be better, do better, become more cool. I want to be confident in myself with the answers to those questions. 

In your mind, how old do you put yourself as?

I think I’ve been remaining as a 19-year-old. I wasn’t able to attend my high school graduation nor was I able to experience college life properly. So I think I feel like I’m just remaining at that age. It still hasn’t sunk in yet that I have become an adult. 

While living as BTS, do you think there was a change that made Park Jimin, as an individual, more clear or blurred?

I think it’s been blurred out for quite a long time but I think recently it has been becoming more clear. If I were to blatantly say it, I think even parts that I have trouble understanding myself are becoming more clear. 

Looking back, what was the darkest moment for you?

There were too many moments that it was hard to choose just one. There is a saying that goes ‘The answer is within you’ and I believe in that. Looking back, in the end, I think I overcame those literal dark moments. Only you yourself know why you are having a hard time and the problem is, it’s hard to recognize the issue. No matter who you ask around you, they won’t be able to give you an answer because the answer is within you. Of course, until I was able to find the answer that was within me, people around me were with me by my side. I was able to find the way to the answer in me by talking with others. 

If you were to write a letter to yourself in the past, what would you want to write?

“Work harder. You are not working hard. Just know that.” People tell me that I am a hard working person but I am not too sure. Personally I have many points that are a little disappointing. So I think that ‘I am still just not enough’

During the day, what time do you think it’s your time for yourself?

I think it is early morning time. I sleep really late. These days I sleep at 9 in the morning. It’s not that I can’t sleep. When I do fall asleep, I usually sleep for a long time but I have schedules and such that I end up sleeping late. The reason why I like the morning hours is because of their calm silence. I like spending time on my own in silence when everyone is sleeping, so I feel like that time is a time of my own.

How similar is your usual self in your daily life compared to the BTS member (you are) shown to the world?

I would say I’m about 85% similar. I don’t think that it’s bad at all that there are differences. It’s not wrong either. In fact, I think that it’s the right thing to be like that and also feel that it’s better. But I’m also not very good at showing the different side of me too. More than saying the remaining 15% is ‘different’ I would say ‘I haven’t shown it yet’ is more correct. But that 15%, I also think it’s a side that I am not able to show.

What is “you yourself as it is” like?

Just ordinary. It’s really just ordinary. 

Is the current ‘Me’ and the past ‘Me’ different?

My personality changed. I was introverted but I changed to a little extroverted. My MBTI also happened to change from ENFJ to ESTJ. I think I naturally just changed as the job we have involves being active. If I hear others talk too, it seems like there are a lot of people whose personalities changed as they worked. I think I’m the same.

What are things that changed and things that haven’t changed as time went by?

I think everything besides the feeling that I have for this job changed. Whether it’s the situation or what. About changes, I honestly feel half positive and half negative. It has always been half and half and it is still the same. 

Do you have a belief that you uphold firmly?

“Express your feelings” I think I do anything that can express my feelings. I think I have been keeping that well. 

Who would be the person that would be able to talk about you well the most?

Members. Members are people who know about things that I can’t even talk to my family about.

What do you like to be called the most?

I like it the most when I am called by my name. I never particularly like, liked my name, but I think they have given me a good name that people can easily remember. 

If there is something in life that is an indispensable existence, what would it be?

Cell phone. Going through the pandemic, I realized once more how important cell phones are. It was the only medium to communicate with other people. If it wasn’t for cell phones it would have been hard to talk to people. It was the only thing that became my friend during the hard times of the pandemic. 

Is there something you have been constantly telling yourself recently?

I legit say “what should I eat” a lot. I believe that that question belongs to one of the 3 conundrums of the world. In the past, I didn’t ask these kinds of questions. It was questions like “Am I ok these days?”  These days I don’t really get interested in other people that much. I focus on what I should eat. I think it might be because I can afford more room for myself. 

How fast in km do you think you are going right now?

A light, not tiring running speed for an average adult male? About 17km I’d say? I think I am running where I am not being dragged or pushed. Running while I slowly adjust my own speed. 

Out of the dreams you had recently, are there any that are memorable?

In the dream, I was with my friends in my room. Time was before the sun went down, there was sunset. The orange light came into my room, some of my friends were lying down, others were sitting down having a conversation. Was comfortably having a conversation. In my dream, I didn’t think it was a dream. It was that comfortable which made it a very interesting dream. It ended without much going on. It was just a normal daily life dream that had nothing special, but in fact, that is why I liked it more.

Is there a dream that you do not want to wake up from?

Dream about flying in the sky. I fly very often in my dream. I feel really happy.  I wish all people could see this dream together. It feels very free. Also when I dream about flying I’m inside a beautiful scenery. A scenery that you cannot see in real life, something that just doesn’t make sense. Feel kind of like I have become Iron Man?

Are there any characters from a movie or a drama that you would like to resemble?

Iron Man. The person, how should I put it, he’s very tough. He’s also cool and awesome. There is no way that even if my personality changes I would have a personality like that. No matter how extroverted I become, there still will be some introverted side of me that is left. I would like to try being a person like that once because I won’t be able to become someone like that. I envy people like Iron Man.

If you could leave to go somewhere right now, where would it be?

Any place where I could see the ocean. It could be Jeju Island or even abroad. It would be nice if for a few days I can just sit at a place where I can see the ocean.

If you were to look at life as one road, how far do you think you came now?

I think I am in a place that I don’t know at all. It’s not that I lost my way. I don’t have a forked road in my path. Though I have a few obstacles…

If there is a door at the end of this road that you are passing, what do you think is behind the door?

I never thought that there would be something at the end of the road. But if there is, I hope people who I like are there. 

Do you think you are currently standing at a crossroads of change?

Yes, so it’s interesting. I wasn’t really particularly interested in things like MBTI. But doing it made me realize that my personality did change a lot. There are many times when I answer the same questions differently. So I think to myself ‘I am getting older.’, ‘I am becoming more of a realistic person.’

Do you believe there is a predestined fate?

I am the type that believes choices are made by myself. So I don’t really like things like destiny. If there is fate I think I would think “Then why am I doing all this.” 

If you were to make a documentary about yourself, which song do you want to put on the ending credit?

Bruno Major’s ‘Nothing’. I think the mood of the song goes well with me very well.

Which color do you think best describes you?

Sky Blue. When I was young, my mother used to tell me while she was putting clothes on me that I matched sky blue well. So it’s a color I like. Sky blue is also a color that feels peaceful. 

If you were to put yourself as a scent, which scent would it be?

I would like a light scent. Rather than an artificial scent, I think a simple and light scent would suit me well.

Personally, what is the most meaningful album out of the whole BTS discography? 

I would say <The Most Beautiful Moment in Life> Series. That was the time when members all had the most thoughts. Personally, moving on to my twenties, I started feeling insecurities for unknown reasons, and it’s an album that went with me from the start of those feelings to a point where I was able to organize my thoughts. I cried the most and I laughed the most.

Through the <Proof> album, what message do you want to deliver?

For the last few years, I believe that there were many messages that we screamed out and that our fans screamed out. But there were almost no moments where we were able to talk. So through this album, I hope we can have more deep conversations. Rather than us delivering a story one-sided. I hope we share stories together. 

FILTER

What does this song mean to you?

I believe it’s a song that best expresses myself. Even if the situation changed and my personality changed, the feeling of wanting to show this side of me to others didn’t change. I put a lot of those feelings into it. 

If you look back in time what type of filter do you think is overlaid on your memories?

Filter of a film camera. Feels like a camcorder filter is also on it. Probably because it’s a memory. 

There is a lyric ‘mix the colors in the palette’. Which color do you think yourself is right now?

Whatever color it is, I feel like it would be watery. Light color. If I put it this way I am worried people might think depressingly but it’s not that. I feel that it used to be a more contrasting color. Now it should get brighter again. I should put on colors. Adding more painting to it! Been thinking that I should put more passion these days. 

Are there filters of your own that you have not been able to show yet?

Yes. There are a lot. If I were to say the filters that I have shown so far as colors, I think there were only red, blue, and yellow. I think I’ve shown about half of it. There is still way more left to show you. 

The moment you are fully immersed on stage, how do you feel?

I feel like I’m in a trance. As if I came to a completely different world? I think it’s because I’ve become fully immersed in it. When that happens, nothing else comes to my mind. Since I was young,  I’ve stood on stage because I liked that feeling. I still do. 

If you had ‘Genie’s Lamp’ and you were about to make three wishes, what kind of wish would you make?

First, please grant me a hundred more wishes. From the second wish, I would ask every small thing. Small things like ‘Give me wings to fly in the sky’. ‘Please let my body be free from toxins.’ ‘Please let me not gain weight.’ ‘Please stop my age at 28.’ ‘Please give me a trial ticket for a supercar.’ For this, you can just give me a free trial ticket.(Laugh) ‘Please give me the power to heal people.’ Because health is the best. ‘Please give me the power to teleport.’ ‘Please allow me to breathe in outer space.’ ‘Please allow me to not feel heat and cold.’ ‘Please allow me to be okay from not sleeping.’ ‘Please let me sing well.’ ‘Please let me become the best dancer in the world.’ 

Friend

What does this song mean to you?

It has a big meaning as it’s my first song that I participated in producing. It is also a song that I really like.

What is a definition of soulmate to you?

There is nothing that can define it but a relationship where there is nothing you want from each other? I think that’s what a soulmate is. A relationship where you are not expecting anything from each other.

If you can just have one day with your friend that you can spend freely, how are you going to spend your time?

Wake up around 4 pm. Then eat. Walk a little outside. Then play games. Then have a drink. I often spend time with my friends like this. I can spend a whole week like that. 

Are there other memories where you felt that V was your soulmate?

There was a time when we performed at Zepp Fukuoka in Japan for a tour.

It was a venue where the capacity was about 1k seats. The hotel we stayed at back then was right next to Fukuoka Dome. I snuck out with V saying “we should go to the dome!” Like that, the two of us went out, bought a bunch of stuff from the convenience store. I think it was really good back then. I feel that because there are memories like that I like to think that he is my soulmate. 

Which are you more familiar with, taking care of others or being taken care of by others?

I am more familiar with taking care of others. I just become like that. And I tend to take care of others in detail. 

Out of all the memories you have as BTS if you were to pick one that feels like a dream, when would that be?

I can’t pick out just one moment. In videos that the company makes or edits, there are ones where they go over BTS’ history. Every moment that would be moments in those types of videos is a dream-like moment. When we debuted, when we first held our concert at Olympic Gymnastic Arena. When we went on a tour, and the trips with members that we had in between, all those moments. 

What does the album <Proof> mean to BTS?

I think it’s an opportunity to look back at the times that passed and look forward to the bigger future of BTS. When the moment comes when fans can look at this album and have a sincere and honest talk with us, I think we will be able to feel a bigger meaning for each other.

English translation by: bomharu1230 Photo credit: mahoneysuga

[mamirhodessxox]

-Dream On- Chapter 6

Consequences to his actions

Professor!Austin x OC!Reader

Summary: A young girl named Madeline, who attended college in NYC, moved to California to pursue her dream of being an actress & singer until she came across her old university fling with Austin Butler.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of fatphobia, violence, mentions of death. I probably forgot ab more but yeah

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

(Present Time)

May 7th

I stared at my phone until Dawson started calling me. I had no choice but to pick up the phone and awnser the call "Madeline what the fuck did you do?" I sighed rubbing my head "I didn't fucking know he had a girlfriend now Dawson." He scoffed on the other side of the call and groaned "Madeline you have a fucking boyfriend for fucksakes!!" I frowned at the reminder knowing I felt like shit for my actions but he had started the cheating game first. I just evened it out. "Dawson, he cheated on me first." We both went silent before I built up the courage to speak again. "2 months ago he left his phone here and this girl was texting him so I clicked the notifications and read their texts. It was disgusting how sexual they were with eachother and he has no clue I know about the messages." Dawson sighed on the other line "Why are you still with him Madi." I frowned as I myself didn't fully know why "I-..I don't know" before dawson could even reply I heard knocking on my door. I quickly hung up and got dressed and went straight to the door and saw David but he didn't seem angry or hurt "David I am so sorr-'' He cut me off and pulled me into a hug "You have no reason to apologize to me Madi. I know why you did it and I'm sorry." I pulled away confused "I know that you saw the text messages madi & I quite honestly deserve this. But I'm willing to make this work if you are alright?" I sighed and gave him a quick nod before hugging him once again "I feel horrible David.." he shook his head and rubbed his back "Don't. We both did something fucking stupid and now we learn from it alright?" I nodded before walking over to the couch. "I also came here to remind you that we need to go to the airport like now..We're moving to California today." I smiled softly and got back up and put on shoes before grabbing all of my pre packed luggage "Then I guess we should get going."

(2 weeks later.)

We had officially moved into California last week. We had furnished our apartment completely. David & I are currently working this whole situation out but besides that everything has been great. Up until today. Indigo and I went out last night and we had gotten absolutely mobbed by the papps. I was being hounded with questions about Kaia and Austin’s relationship which I couldn't give two shits about right now. This morning I heard Indi squealing and running into David and I's bedroom while I was doing make up and alone by myself holding her phone up to my face

"Fans are literally siding with you, Madline!!!" I raised a brow looking at her."Kaia is problematic?" Indi shrugged, showing me the phone."That's what the fans say, I guess. People have been posting all over social media #teammadeline, " I sighed, rubbing my forehead as I did my hair.

"I couldn't care less honestly..we have shit to go do today and that includes having the time of our life later tonight." Indigo smiled and held out her hand to help me get up as I grabbed my purse "Let's go grab some coffee. The others are out right now running errands." I nodded in agreement while we both left the apartment. As soon as we stepped outside in broad daylight Paparazzi surrounded us "Madeline, what are your opinions of Kaia and Austin?!" "Do you feel guilty???" Indigo kept me safe but I stopped in my tracks and smiled "I actually do have a few words to say." Indigo furrowed her brows in confusion "I couldn't give two shits about their fucked up relationship but Austin. He needs to stop with the false promises."

After 4 hours of being out, Indigo & I decided to finally call it a day so we called up our personal driver when we were ready. When we got in the car and got near the highway Indigo noticed a car had been following us for a while. We thought it was paparazzi at first so we just ignored it but they continued..once we were off of the highway that's when everything went into shit. The car near us sped up completely and crashed into our car and flipped us over completely. The rest was complete and utter..blur, I woke up to sirens, crying and flashing cameras. I had cuts all over my body but luckily Indigo was safe and already out of the car telling everything to a cop while I was being dragged out. Everyone's face was a blur but a face I did recognize was Austin with utter fear on his face while he ran up near the stretcher grabbing my hand softly while looking up at the paramedics "Is she going to be okay!? What the fuck happened??" A police officer pulled him aside while I was being put into the ambulance but what definitely got my attention was the fact that I heard every word the cop said to Austin. "Mr Butler we are aware you're worried right now but we need everyone on the premises as safe as possible. We believe this crash was planned out and involved with foul play." My breath hitches as Austin pulled his hand over his mouth with tears running down his face while David just arrived at the crime scene.

Within hours I woke up again inside the ER. I saw everyone I knew in my hospital room watching my every move and despite Indi being stitched up on her legs and arms she was still there. Austin and David were outside of the room arguing while Dawson & Sophia got up and held my hand "Thank fucking god. We're so glad you made it…" I was absolutely speechless. I had no clue what to say in this situation. "I-I heard the police officer say they suspect foul play being involved with this crash.." Sophia nodded and looked outside the door seeing Austin getting angrier "That's currently..what they're talking about unfortunately hun.." I sighed rubbing my head while listening to the muffled bickering from outside "How the fuck is this MY fault David? How the fuck would I know Kaia would set this shit up?" David let out a sarcastic laugh and paced around the hallway "Probably you slept with my fucking girlfriend who I know loves and cares about you despite me being in her life. You gave her fake bullshit promises on you waiting for her just to piss off your PSYCHOTIC girlfriend. You couldn't keep your fucking dick in your pants." Austin raised a brow and stared down David "I couldn't keep my dick in my pants? Let's discuss the fact that YOUR girlfriend found YOUR sext messages 2 fucking months ago and just sat quietly because she was afraid of losing your sorry ass when I could do WAY much better than you."

David turned around facing Austin completely enraged "Atleast I don't have a fucking girlfriend that tries MURDERING another girl because she's fucking problematic and upset over the fact madi never got baclash." I groaned in bed while Indi got irritated. Soon enough she couldn't take the yelling outside anymore so she got up and open the door "If you two don't shut the fuck up and stop stressing MA out I'm going to fucking kill you both myself." Dawson sighed and watched Indigo shout at the 2 men before they walked into the hospital room making direct eye contact with me. "You both are fucking stupid." David was surprised at my choice of words but stayed silent while Austin leaned against the wall and stared me down "I just want you to know I will no longer be with Kaia for my sake and your safety Madeline?" I scoffed looking at him which told the others that this is where me and Austin need to talk alone right now. "My safety Austin? My fucking safety apparently flew out the window when you came near me. You never fucking told me you had a girlfriend until I found that article. You lied to me!" Austin frowned and walked towards me but I held out my hand to stop him "Your girlfriend tried fucking killing me incase that hasn't settled in your brain yet." I sat up and pointed at myself "My safety was LONG gone incase you can't fucking see that." Austin opened and closed his mouth as he struggled to find words before approaching me and gently setting my hands down "Madeline I will do whatever it takes to keep you and your friends safe alright?" I frowned, shaking my head, "I wish I could believe you Austin." He sighed and gently held my face. "I'm being serious right now, Madeline." I glared, pulling my head away "I can't believe you. You said you would wait for me and how you loved me only to find out I was just a fuckthing. You didn't even bother texting or calling me to explain yourself when the news came out. Now your saying you'll keep me safe? How?" Austin sat on the bed next to my legs and held onto one of my hands "If I have to file charges against Kaia I will make it happen, Madeline." I shook my head before making him get up "You wanna keep me safe Austin? Fine, let me give you an idea of what I want. Get the fuck away from me." Austin looked at me before turning around and walking away towards the door while I laid back down and going on my phone until I noticed TMZ posted.

This truly is a shit show.

[yahsheartcry]

What I would love for you all to get from my short testimony...

When people first look at me, they have no idea that I have been through so much, or that I am as old as I am. I am 41, but look like I am in my mid-20's. I never smoked anything growing up. Never had a desire to do anything like that. I had drank in college, but now, it hurts my stomach to do that. I've been through numerous things--physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, sexual trauma as a child and as an adult, domestic violence, narcissism, miscarriage, and houselessness. I lived in my car for almost 9 months. Through all of this, I can still say that Yah is still good, and is still good to me. He never left my side. He protected me. He provided for me. He loved and adored me, even when I left Him for awhile. He still wanted and desired me. He was jealous for me. It was when He called me back to Him, that I decided to go all in, and live my life for Him no matter what.

Some may say, "Well, what did you have to do to get to this point?" My answer...A LOT! I really did. I had to do a lot of work.

I scheduled a routine where I would pray in the morning and in the evening outside. I worshipped Him during this time too.

I would read my Bible every day.

I would keep a prayer journal.

I would keep a gratefulness journal.

I would keep a positive affirmations journal about who Yah says I am.

I went to therapy to heal myself from all the past hurt and traumas.

I was even on medications for a little while to get my body back on track.

I changed how I ate, and ate more healthy and how the Holy Spirit wanted me to eat.

I changed what I wore, and wore things that were not form fitting and low-cut, or too short. I wore modest clothing.

I attended church every week.

I started speaking more positively over myself.

I watched what I would watch on TV and at the movies.

I was careful what I listened to on the radio, on TV, or online.

I had to let some friendships go that weren't the ones that Yah wanted for me.

I had to learn how to communicate.

I had to learn how to forgive. No matter what.

I had to learn to see people the way that Yah sees them.

I had to learn to minimalize and get rid of things that were taking up too much space in my head, heart, house, and life.

I had to learn that my money really wasn't my money, and everything belongs to Yah. I can at least tithe.

I had to learn to love myself. Then other people.

You see...I had to do quite a bit to heal. I am not even done yet. I have been delivered from spirits and habits and all the things that I had no idea I was having issues with at all. I had to learn spiritual warfare, to fight the Enemy. I had to learn to be a Kingdom Woman, and always do everything with Excellence. Most importantly, and this is where I am right now, is learning to love people...even when they betray you and hurt you. This lesson has just started, but already, I can tell a difference. When you learn to love people, you learn to love Yah even more. He created all of us. We are all created in His image. Today, just today, I have felt the Holy Spirit so thick. It was amazing!

If I could help anyone today by giving them one tip, it would be this...No matter how far you may think you have fallen, or how amazing you may think you are, that hole that you are trying to fill with drinking, with sex, with shopping, with porn, with everything under the sun...means NOTHING!!!! None of these things can fill that space in your life. It may seem like it, for a little while, but they can't do it. Yeshua (Jesus Christ) is literally the ONLY ONE who can! You won't be fully happy until you let Him into your heart and your life!

Here is a prayer to help you do that:

Dear Heavenly Father in Yeshua's name,

Here I am. I come before you right now, with a repentant heart. I know that I have sinned. I know that I made mistakes and Yeshua didn't have to die for my sins on that cross, but He did. He took my punishment, because that should have been me. I believe that Yeshua is the Son of G-d, and I accept Him into my heart, my mind, my soul, my spirit, and my body right now. Take over. Renew me. Restore me. Transform me. Use me as your vessel. I love you, Yeshua. I thank you at the chance to have a transformed life with You. Thank you for making me more like You more and more each and everyday. Take my heart. Take my life.

In Yeshua's name I pray,

Amen.

***If you said this prayer, and meant every word, send me a message. I would love to welcome you into Yah's family, and guide you on what to do next. ***

I love you all!

Until Friday!

~Hadassah Grace

[fenimores-book-nook]

My future??

This topic is something that I have spent a loooooot of time thinking about. More like OVERthinking. The reason being is simply because I don't know. I don't know what my future holds, I don't know what I want it to hold. And, like, I'm only nineteen, so I got plenty of time. Heck, I got loads. Some people don't figure out what they really want to do until their thirties. In Friends, they are all quite literally figuring out life and they're all in their twenty-thirties. New Girl, it's the same situation. One thing I really don't appreciate is how much pressure is put on high schoolers and college age people to figure out what they want to do for the rest of their lives. How are you supposed to know that when you've barely lived your life? Also, how do you know you want to do one thing for the rest of your life?

I made the decision to not go to college after high school which was a great decision for me. I don't know what I want to do so why would I waste thousands of dollars on classes I don't even really want to take? I'm not bashing on people who do go to college or are happy doing one thing for most of their life, that's great that it works for them. I just don't like how college is almost expected of you now. It shouldn't be. College is NOT for everyone. And people who decide not to go aren't less successful, we just do things differently.

I don't know if I'll ever go back to school but if I end up wanting to, the option is there.

I only know a few things for sure:

I don't want to end up doing only one thing.

I want to do something creative.

I want writing to be a part of it.

My photo from a Jesus date I had a while back. <3

Writing has always been a part of my life and a big part too, so of course I'd want to spend a good chunk of my time doing that. Even if it isn't the main thing I do. And even if this is the writing I'll keep doing the most, I'd be okay with that.

The two careers I've been interested in the most is an author, obviously, and a fashion designer/illustrator. During my Junior/Senior year of high school, I really got interested in fashion. It was my dream for a while to attend FIT: Fashion Institute of Technology. One, because it was in New York City (I've wanted to go there for forever) and two, because, I mean, it's FIT. The photos and websites I looked at made it look so glamorous. I'm sure it is, but I'm also sure it's incredibly stressful at times. (like how college is) Plus, I still wasn't 100% sure that it was what I wanted to do. And I didn't have the money for it, AND New York is a ways from where I live; good ol' Kansas.

Still on the fashion career topic, the other night, I thought that maybe I got a sort of sign about my career choices. It might be a stretch, but I read into these things, sometimes too much. My mom and I were watching A Christmas Kiss II, where the main character is a fashion designer. Afterwards, we started another movie, The Winter Palace, where the main character is an author. Fashion designer. Author. I didn't even realize until later the next day. My brain is like freaking out over here: does this mean something??? What do I do now?????

*found on pinterest (yes, yes I do love pinterest, thank you for asking)

So, that's always fun.

I'm not sure if I would want to do the entire fashion design thing, or just do fashion illustration. Design is more creating the product, where illustration focuses more on making a visual of it. I like the illustration aspect of it because it's not only sketching out the vision you have for an outfit/piece of clothing, but it's putting the mood and color of it in play too. I don't know if I'd want to do all of the sewing and hand work, I'm not the best at sewing. I usually stick to fixing rips with hand-sewing. But, I could get better at it if I tried. ;)

When I told my sister about this "sign" of mine, she suggested I could follow both paths and see which one really takes off. For an author, I don't really need more schooling. But for the fashion side, I would most likely need to. Still, I don't have to decide right now. Heck, if I wanted to, I could keep writing and drawing up little sketches and put them to use in a more non-traditional way. I'm sure I could come up with something.

Maybe I'll include some sketches or pieces I've written on here at some point. :) But for now, there's my spiel for not knowing my future. But hey, that's alright.

jusqu'à la prochaine fois,

Thalia <3

[justfaithittilyoumakeit]

How I Got Here

I’ve mentioned that I’m recently divorced. I was married to a diagnosed narcissist who refused to get help. We had been separated during the pandemic and we tried one last time. Unfortunately that ended about as well as gasoline and a match. More specifically it ended with a domestic violence charge, and me still having to go to physical therapy four months later. 

I think that one of the hardest things I’ve gone through in my life is having to detach myself from my wasband. Not just in a physical way, but it got to a point that I was literally choosing peace over presence. I wanted quiet.I didn’t even enjoy being around him anymore. It became so toxic to me that I felt like I was suffocating. But I was determined to keep up appearances for everyone else. I wasn’t going to put our kids through what we both went through with having divorced parents. Not because I felt like I was doing something stoic by staying in a crummy marriage. I was terrified, I was afraid that he would turn a broken home situation into pure hell just out of spite, because that’s the mentality and maturity level that I’ve dealt with before. My mind was racing but so fatigued at the same time. Running on fumes doesn’t quite explain it. People that have read this have given me a multitude of responses. They range from “How could you have not seen this coming?” to “It’s like he’s pushed you guys away from the beginning.” Either way, this conversation with God and this piece of writing is what created the perfect storm. 

“They say that God comes through in the silence. If that’s not the truth, then I don’t know what is. I was having a heart to heart with God, but I wasn’t saying a word. I don’t know if you’ve had one of those before, but sometimes I stay up late and have to be quiet, so they’re pretty frequent for me. 

I was chatting with someone I’d met through church about life. He’d asked me the question “well, how’s your son doing now with his autism?” It got me thinking about everything. Chris and I have been together for sixteen years and of that sixteen years, the last twelve of them, my focus has been autism. “He’s really doing incredible.” I told him. Then I started really thinking about things. 

“Nick is fine. Heather’s just bored.” I will never forget overhearing Chris say those words to his mom. The words of denial out of a father’s mouth would forever be the fuel in my fire. Little did I know that Chris’s attitude would never really change for the better. However, for the past twelve years I have made working with Nick a priority to make sure that autism does not severely limit his life 

I’ve made autism so much of a priority that I never got the opportunity to pursue a career or much of an education other than part of a degree and going back to school right now. That doesn’t mean I didn’t work. Until the day my water broke, I juggled three jobs. But once I realized Nick needed more attention from me, that was it. It was never a choice. It was never a discussion. Chris on the other hand, has always worked full time and never had his education hindered. He’s always had a supportive family, his mom let us live with her rent free from 2003-2006 and then from 2007 when Nick was diagnosed until 2009. He attended college full time from 2004-2008. While I single handedly dealt with our severely autistic son. I remember laying in bed at night sobbing because I just wanted someone to help me. He was so far in denial and hiding from it by burying himself in work and school. This isn’t about painting one of us as the good guy or the bad guy. This is about my road to God. 

I’d constantly been told that I needed to get to know God through the Catholic Church, because that’s what my husband’s family is. Chris would bark back at them to leave me alone and I could make my own decisions. I kept putting it off, that I would find time for Him eventually. It’s not that I didn’t want to find time. It’s that by the end of the day I was so exhausted I would fall asleep sitting up. It’s not that I didn’t believe, it’s that I had blind faith. I believed that when the time was right, it would happen.

Until I met Chris, my life growing up was chaos. Decades of emotional abuse had strapped itself to my shoulders and moved right in with me. I had no control over anything in my life until that point, so for the beginning of our relationship I had to control EVERYTHING. Thankfully, Chris was patient when it went through the ugly stage. I was just learning that Nick’s autism required structure. That was good for me. I could control things. Silver linings.  

Fast forward to fall of 2016. I finally did it! I got what I’ve been dreaming of. This incredible work from home job from Amazon. I worked my butt off there and was so close to moving up to management and getting off of the phones. And then BAM I got sick and can’t be cleared for work because obviously I can’t be a reliable employee when you need 300 hours of sick time. Because when I don’t feel good, I’m in bed writhing in pain or feeling like I’m going to throw up. Chris on the other hand, keeps getting all of these accolades and different positions and schedules. I’m so proud of him. I really am and I make sure to tell him that. He just makes me feel so small with the way that he treats me and our kids. It makes it feel like he’s using my face as a stepping-stone on his way to the top. The way he puts our religion down, acts like my 40 plus hours of schoolwork each week  isn’t work, my volunteering isn’t important. Add his repetitive disrespect, it’s getting hard to hide my disappointment. He’s so painfully oblivious to the sacrifices I make for our family.

I went over all the things that have happened in the past year and a half. It really made me realize just how far Nick has come in twelve years. All my hard work was not for naught. I got sick and stopped working, my dad was diagnosed with cancer and went into remission, Chris’s dad died, my grandma died, my dad’s cancer is back, and now potentially divorcing parents? He’s handled them like a champ. That, on top of the fact that he excels in school is just awesome. My kids are growing up and need me less. No. Not less, they need me differently. 

The irony is, that at a time that it feels like I’m losing so much, I’m okay. Because the one thing I found is God. I’m so grateful for that. None of these things are in my control. The Bible reminds us several times that God is in control. 

I have a very positive outlook on life and a huge part of that is because of Jesus. I love our church and probably bury my head into the Bible app on my phone more than my homework right now. Recently I was told that the things that have happened to me would be “easier to handle and I would have a more positive attitude if I tried to have a relationship with God the right way.” They meant that because I’m not Catholic. The thing is, there is only one “right way” to be in a relationship with God. Jesus tells us in John 14:6 that “nobody comes to the Father except through me”

So here I am, sobbing on the floor of my closet having this silent conversation with God. Pleading with him to heal my heart of resentment, ugliness and hurt. I’m begging him to please turn it into something productive. Turn it into love. Even though it may be justified, I don’t want it anymore. It’s heavy. Thessalonians 5:17 tells us to pray without ceasing. Boy did I. Then I remembered church this past week.  

Matthew 9:20 tells of a story about a woman that suffered with bleeding for twelve years and came up and touched just the fringe on Jesus’s robe. Out of a large crowd he noticed this, he then told her “Daughter, your faith has healed you.” I may not have been bleeding, but I have no doubt that Jesus has healed my heart after twelve years of hurting. 

The right way is whatever way gets you into a relationship with God. He knows when the time is right.”

#Testimony #Christian

[tteokdoroki]

an ode to winter | dabi.

♡ pairing: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 14.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: manga war arc!au, single-parent!au, unplanned pregnancy!au,  angst, fluff, smut.

♡ summary: touya todoroki had broken a lot of things, your heart, promises, your window a few times, but you swore he'd never leave your child feeling that way. but when he wants back into your life, will he take no for an answer? And do you even want to say it?

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( literally 5k of it ), MANGA SPOILERS IN THE EXTENDED ENDING,  mentions of pregnancy, mentions of semi-toxic!relationships, struggling with parenting, blackmail ??,   unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, losers ), handjobs, oral sex ( female receiving ), fingering ( female receiving ),  choking, branding, squirting, spit!kink, needy touya lol <3

♡ author’s note(s): OK so this started out as a fic for my bestie @ozzy-bozzy​ but then turned into this long ass vent fic bc i do be struggling!! i’ve barely written for touya so apologies if his character is off. special thanks to @bakugous-trauma for beta reading n @doinmybesthere for the summary and beta reading and thanks for 4.7K MWAH <3

♡ masterlist | requests

the snow had fallen heavy that day, its flakes dancing along the window panes while you’d brought her into the world. you hated the cold, the way it nipped at your nose and stung at your cheeks, how it could freeze over a heart so badly that it would take years to thaw it out. you’d complained about the ice sheets that frosted your windows to the doctors, the ones on the roads too, but they’d simply wrote it off as your anxieties related to bringing kori home for the first time in such weather.

funnily enough, your daughter much resembled the cold in many ways. you’d named her ‘kori’; meaning ice, since her hair was white as the crisp blanket of winter outside and her eyes a piercing shade of aqua marine, that for a while, had no meaning written behind them except for a cool curiosity that you knew didn’t come from your side of the family. she wasn’t warm either, the first time you held her, her flesh against yours was almost a painful spark of frostbite— you expected that it was related to the lineage she came from too.

you thought that you’d resent kori when she was born; for the struggles that her new life had brought to you. you’d given birth alone and afraid, having lost friends and contact with your family due to keeping your pregnancy a secret. if they had known who caused you to end up in this situation in the first place, you were sure you’d have lost them all anyways. you hadn’t a chance to attend maternity classes due to the hours you worked in order to ensure yourself and your child’s financial security. although, prior to her arrival, dabi had told you that if you chose to give your daughter the todoroki name; you both would be looked after when the right time came.

and like a fool in love, you’d believed him, avoiding the apologetic gazes of the doctors and midwives who’d delivered your baby as you filled out her paperwork and birth certificate. one nurse even asked you if you wanted to contact endeavour for support, and you couldn’t blame her— the rumours of your child potentially being that of natsuo todoroki’s had spread fast through the hospital and it was a given, figuring his bad boy college reputation. natsuo and his ventures into the college life were no stranger to the media, so it didn’t surprise you nor the doctors to believe that this wasn’t the first time a girl had given birth alone to a todoroki child. you suspected that if there were any, enji todoroki would have paid them off.

so you let them believe what ever false truth that might have plagued the hospital walls about yourself and your daughter— not having the heart to tell them that you’d probably receive a much larger sum of money to keep hush about the child that you mothered and the child who’s father belonged to endeavour’s deceased, eldest son.

so you realised, thumb held by the chubby hand of your sweet infant girl; that you couldn’t hate her for the mistakes you’d made and the mess you’d become tangled up in— you could only promise to do your best in raising her despite the odds and difficult circumstances, you could give her the life and childhood that her father never had but most certainly deserved.

“miss yn...”

your midwife; himari enters the room, calling for you— tearing your gaze away from the hypnotising sea-foam eyes belonging to your daughter, the way she looked at you only reminding you of dabi. you’d told him once that his eyes always took you to the mediterranean sea, to which he’d laughed and mentioned you’d never seen it before. when the pair of you realised that this was true, the boy with the black hair and intoxicating stare made an oath to you, that he would take you there someday so you could bask in the warm sun and dip your toes into the clear oceans. you only hoped that this oath still remained true.

“miss yn...” himari tries again, this time stepping further into your hospital room. your thoughts had carried you so far away that you hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten as she lingered by your cot. her hands lay flat against her pale blue uniform, nails you note—neatly trimmed— and a smile that would have made you feel comfortable had you not known she’d volunteered to care for you because she too believed she’d be paid off by endeavour. you almost felt bad that she thought the silly lie was true and that she had a shot at a big time bonus but it was funny to think that no one would believe her when she eventually took to the news to claim that she cared for the next heir of the todoroki empire. “it’s says here, that kori is scheduled for feeding— i was wondering if you wanted to continue breast feeding or try pumping a bottle or two today?”

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hum with hesitance. feeding kori was something you’d never discussed with dabi, some of the nurses had assured you that it was possible for you to do both— so that you could grow closer to your daughter and form a tight bond whilst also giving the opportunity to others to feed her when need be. there weren’t many others, but you figured that dabi might want to give bottle feeding a whirl when he finally returned from the league business. the business that had made him miss his little girl’s birth.

kori gargles from hunger in your arms, drawing your attention back to her tiny form. a stray strand of hair curls against her forehead from underneath her blankets and swaddling— the end you notice has a slight tint of red to it. the icy shell around your heart thaws. glancing back up to himari; you grin with a decision in mind. “i’d like to try breast feeding again, we can use the pump tomorrow.” you say, voice quiet.

“do you need any help getting her to latch?” your midwife asks, aiding you into a comfortable position to feed kori.

“no,” you smile after getting settled, pushing down your gown to expose your breast to your little girl. “i’ve got her, i can take care of her.”

you say the words more so to yourself than to himari, a hidden reassurance that you’re more than capable of raising your daughter on your own.

for now at least.

that winter, dabi never came home.

the snow melts, the flowers bloom and the seasons change. your daughter grows with the swift transition of the weathers too, her hair is a little longer now but the small curl of red against her forehead remains hidden and the same. her eyes open wider, still that deep shade of ocean blue, she can sit up on her own, throws toys out of her crib  and her favourite movies are bambi and bambi two. they’re the only things that she watches, which you hate, because they remind you of her. an innocent child who loses one parent and is left in the care of the emotionally closed off other.

you hadn’t realised how much you would need dabi, but still he is nowhere to be seen.

raising kori on your own proves a challenge, especially now that she’s a little bigger— it was easy after she was born; she was quiet and only made a fuss when she was hungry or needed to be changed. went down easy too, that was until her wails reared their ugly head as soon as the colder parts of winter hit. no matter what you did, the girl would cry for hours on end until her face would hurt from how scrunched it was and her fingers would turn red from the grip she had on your hands.

since her birth, you and kori had to move three times due to the noise complaints about her consistent crying throughout the day, evening and night. by the time february rolled around, you’d ended up in an apartment not so far from dabi’s old neighbourhood— it was a shitty area with high crime rates and an eerie feel to it that made you clutch your purse tighter when you walked home from the late night shifts— you had never had any intentions to raise kori in a dump like this, you wanted a better life for her than what dabi had, but your shabby two bedroom apartment in the dark side of town would be enough for now.

the rent was cheap since your current boss at the local grocers market was close friends with the building manager, but your boss was also a sleaze who thought offering you an extra 10% off of your weekly shop and an expired coupon for the coffee joint down the street would be enough to get into your pants. he was just another thing on your list that you hated about the world, about the current life you lead but you needed to keep him close to keep your rent low and a roof over your head.

besides, it had been a few days since you last saw him at work— the asshole was probably taking a few days to himself while you and your colleagues practically ran the store.

you can’t leave kori with a sitter; they never worked with her. your daughter was far too temperamental for the average person and would spend one night with her before taking their pay and quitting. the only person able to handle your beloved little girl was the old lady who lived two floors above yours, mrs. yamamoto. she was a sweet woman, widowed by fifteen years and had taken a liking to kori that one time you’d helped with her groceries when she couldn’t make it out in the february winter after your little girl was born.

it seemed kori liked mrs yamamoto as well, she was only ever quiet in the woman’s presence and you put it down to how high she had the heat up in her apartment. one time, it was up so high the power in the building went out for an entire night— which was hell for you since kori wouldn’t stop bawling. however; you appreciated the help, you’re sure that without the help of the elder woman you would have been far under the surface— drowning in regret.

but sometimes, it’s easy for the darker emotions to slip through the cracks— take a choke hold over your sanity. there would be nights where guilt would consume you and tears would flow heavily down your cheeks while your daughter slept. it was hard being alone, no one to confide in about the troubles of parenting or to reassure you that you were doing a good job at taking care of your child.

it didn’t help that winter was coming up again, kori’s first birthday fast approaching. the sudden milestone only made you wish that dabi was around more — it hurt you to know that there was possibility he’d run out on you and his responsibilities as a father but part of you believed that your lover was better. the eldest todoroki son appeared way too excited throughout your pregnancy to leave you with nothing.

despite not being able to make it to appointments due to his criminal nature, dabi had somehow manged to find the money to get you a 4D ultra sound of your baby, telling you a few odd jobs here and there allowed him to scrape the cash together. you never asked what it was that he did, afraid of what you might find in the eyes of the man that you loved so much.

why did you allow yourself to love a man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if he hadn’t broken into your home? his seafoam eyes a glowing shade as he threatened your life through shards of broken glass and then wails of cop sirens outside. were you just as broken as he? had you not realised it yet? you could blame this whole mess on the fact that he kept coming back, but you always let him back in. dabi was a broken man who only knew blood and grit and grime and you were the girl with a chance to lead a normal life— yet you poured all of your heart and all of your soul into loving him because you were so sure that you could fix him.

and every single time you’d convinced him, convinced yourself that what you had could be normal and domestic— dabi would slip between your sheets, pinning you to your bed with your name heavy on your lips and the emotion of love painted into the turquoise flecks in his eyes. they burned with passion while his heated cock sunk between your plush thighs and welcomed him into your warmth. the moans you’d share while your skin slapped together, creating a bubble of safety where you were the only two people on the world.

dabi made promises against your swollen lips as his fingers swirled hidden messages of desire into your slick, puffy clit. he couldn’t give you the ring, the wedding or the house with the white picket fence and dog barking at the post man in the front yard— but he could give you every part of him from the good to the bad, the beautiful to the ugly and he would seal that promise with a throaty groan of ‘you are mine and i am yours...’ into your ear as you came together.

but it seemed that like all things, dabi’s promises were broken like shattered glass— never meant to be kept or eternalised. the shards cut your delicate fingers, the pain numbed as you were left to pick up the pieces and be strong for the small life you were now responsible for.

you were careful to not let the door fly in and hit the wall opposite as you unlocked it, stumbling into your two bedroom with kori’s chubby legs locked around your hips and bag full of groceries in your other hand. “look princess,” you coo down at your daughter sweetly, watching as she drools all over your staff lanyard from work. “we’re home!” bending down, you dropped the produce off by the door before heading off to your living room area, propping kori in front of her toy mat.

smiling down at her, you brush the pure white hair that curls over her cobalt eyes and kiss her freckled cheeks— heart swooning at the way kori giggles in your arms. she’d been on her best behaviour the entire week, keeping out of trouble with the staff at her daycare and mrs yamamoto in the place upstairs, so it was only right that you treat her.

“you hungry babygirl? want mommy to make your favourite, hm?” kori is barely old enough to talk aside from a few babbles and repeats of mama but that doesn’t stop you from asking.

“mmmamamamaa!!”

you press another kiss to her baby fat cheeks before heading to the kitchen to prepare her favourite dinner— spaghetti. ever since kori started eating her solids, she hadn’t been a picky eater and you noticed that her appetite much resembled dabi’s, who couldn’t afford to be fussy about any of the meals you’d made for him before he disappeared.

making the sauce is easy, a dish you’d prepared from when you were a child and used to cook with your parents— you retrieve the ingredients from the groceries and pull out the stuff you’ll need to cook them. you mince the vegetables easily like you’d been taught as your mind gets away from you.

you wish that dabi was here to enjoy the domesticity of your current life— maybe him being around would lift the dark cloud over your life. sometimes it hurt to know that he would be missing out on moments like this and you could imagine him sitting by the couch while kori played with her toys and you cooked for them both. in this world, he’d laugh at her fascination with colder toys and magnets— make a joke about how much your little girl resembles him and kiss your cheek when you served them both up their favourite meals.

tears pool in your eyes at the thought of your wish never being granted and that’s all it takes for you to slip and cut your finger while chopping up the garlic. “fuck!” you boss, dropping the knife and squeezing your hand around the wounded digit. you know that the clattering of the knife has scared kori, and from the way she looks at you, you can already tell that she’s seen you injure yourself. “god, fuck...that hurt.”

there’s a pause in time, while you rinse your cut under the tap, cold water soothing the sting before kori starts to wail like her life depends on it. in a rush, you grab a tea towel in hopes that it’ll stop the bleeding and head straight for your baby, hoping that you’ll be able to soothe her. by the time you reach kori, her eyes are red with tears and snot dribbles from her nose down to her chin while she babbles loosely all the new words she’s learned— in a whiny tone.  

“baby, don’t cry mommy’s got you,” you murmur to her, reaching out to the little girl with open arms. your heart breaks at the way her bottom lip wobbles in a watery pout. kori crawls into your arms, white mop of soft baby hair buried into the junction between your shoulder and your neck— her tiny body shakes with awful heaves and cries while her tears dampen the old hoodie of her father’s that you wear, effectively ruining the fabric. “come on honey, it’s okay! momma didn’t mean to scare you...”

she snivels in your arms, quiet for only a second while you walk around the apartment bouncing her. walking kori up and down seems to soothe her for the most part, a trick that worked when she was first born and had her horrible crying fits. “good girl, mama’s got you...” you continue to soothe her, brushing a finger under her white lashes to remove her tears. all is well for a second and it seems her tantrum has calmed, until she grabs onto your wounded finger and makes you curse in pain again.

“shit!”

“m-momma-!” kori whimpers, face creasing in pain as her cheeks start to heat up again. you fear that if you don’t do something soon she’ll bust a lung from crying.

you shake your head in an attempt to calm her down, baby sobs striking right through your body and resume bouncing her, hoping that it’ll work. “shhh kori, honey, it’s okay— mommy’s okay and so are you...” in the process of comforting her, you somehow trip over the discarded knife, sending it flying into the cabinets across from the island and making another loud noise that further spooks kori.

at this she screams bloody murder, the sound of her little chest heaving giving you a splitting headache. you were tired, tired of your daughter’s crying , working long hours with no help and raising a child all on your own. you were tired of the pain spreading through your head and your body and your heart. you needed an out or break at the very least.

you should feel guilty for what you’re about to do, heading for the nursery with a heaving baby in your grip. you can’t think of anything better to do than put kori down for a nap and hope that her crying tires her out— you do your best to pry the little girl from clinging onto your clothes and tuck her into her crib as she sniffles, quickly backing out of her room before she can call for you and make you feel even worse than you already do.

you close the door quietly behind you, somewhat sliding down it while your own sobs take over your body— shaking you violently as you hug your knees to your chest. you don’t know how long you sit there, biting your lips and holding onto in your whimpers while tears stream down the apples of your cheeks, but eventually

you find yourself drifting off with dreams of your happy family.

you jump awake a few hours later, surrounded by a thick darkness from the sky outside. the hum of the city streets helps to bring you back down to earth as you rub the sleep from your puffy eyes and blink away the exhaustion. you don’t quite remember when you’d fallen into a slumber but you figure that kori must have eventually, judging by the quietness that surrounds your apartment.

the blanket of the night allows your guilt to burn brightly in your chest— you shouldn’t have left her alone. scrambling to your feet, you stumble over to the kitchen counter and grab your phone to read the time. 11:06pm. it’s just about time that you check on your daughter, but with two steps of heading to the nursery and you’re met with foreign sound that doesn’t quite fit in with the usual creaks and squeaks of your apparent.

happy gurgles belonging to your baby creep out from underneath her bedroom door, low humming or singing to accompany her sweet sound. humming that you don’t recognise. with a pang of fear to your heart, you reach for the knife on your kitchen floor as a weapon of defence— this would go down nicely with the police. a single mother on self defence...yeah, that could work out.

the knife shakes in your hand as you approach kori’s nursery, barely steady even when you push open the door.

“...touya?”

nothing could prepare you for what you’d see after walking into that room but when your eyes fall witness to your love standing in the centre of the room with a little tuft of white hair cradled to his bare chest. the air around you tingles with warmth as if dabi has heated the place up with his quirk and your little girl curls into him as if she’s known him all her life. but she hadn’t, he hadn’t.

all at once, your heart heals just as it breaks— it’s been so long since you’ve seen the villain that you can’t help but notice all the changes in him, the way his eyes droop a little more with exhaustion and his hair dusted with a the slightest bit of white. he was noticeably thinner too, maybe from being away from a warm bed and good food for too long...so a half of you was relieved that he was home, the other— hurt and betrayed.

“hey beautiful,” dabi’s timbre voice fills your entire being, stimulating your senses into a dull tingle. his lips a drawn into soft smirk as he rocks kori back and forth, your  baby’s eyes flutter with the gentle indication of sleep. “how’ya been?”

if you weren’t frozen in shock, you would have given the villain a piece of your mind. how dare he...after all this time apart from you, from his daughter...ask how you were doing? your eyes flutter to the open window behind the oldest todoroki son, as if you need to look away from him to convince yourself he’s real and he won’t disappear when you look back.

proven right by meeting the cool, chartreuse sea of his eyes— your throat runs dry as all you’d ever dreamed of saying in this moment, flees from your mind. “what are you doing here?” you say, trying to sound firm even though your voice falls through.

touya stays quiet, twirling a long finger through the small curls on his—your daughter’s head. “i was in the neighbourhood.” he mumbles, gaze tearing away from you to focus on the content infant he has in his arms.

you should feel angry, you should be screaming and kicking at dabi— forcing him out of your home with your child safe in your own arms but your body doesn’t will you to. hurt seeps through your veins at the casual aura in his tone. of course dabi would treat the situation as if it never existed and that he’d been with you the whole time. the pain of seeing him with her as if he’d been in kori’s life from the very start wraps around your heart in a poisonous grip and squeezes hard until you’re choking back a sob, letting it sit in the base of your throat.

you refuse to break in front of him.

“you need to go. you need to put her down and you need to leave.” you attempt to assert yourself in a harsh bark, almost making dabi jump. he’d never seen you like this before, but then again he hadn’t seen you in a year. he could only imagine what motherhood had done to you, especially facing it on your own. touya hesitates, kori shifting in his soft grip— one he didn’t even know that he had as a villain but you steady yourself and repeat your words. “touya, i said you need to leave.”

“why? so you can fall asleep and leave her crying on her own again?” the villain spits out, harsher than he intended. he watches your face fall and your body curl in on itself and he feels bad. dabi had promised you a lot of things since realising he loved you, and not hurting you like his father hurt his mother was one that he’d just broken. relenting, the dark haired villain eases kori from his pec and tucks her into her crib.

there’s a beat of silence and then. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

“yn,” he sighs, running a hand through the light roots of his hair as he leans over his child’s crib. the young father tilts his head, scanning kori’s face while he identifies every characteristic she has from the family he’d done his best to free himself of.   “i’m sorry, it’s just— just that she was cold and crying, so i took off my shirt and held her and she warmed up and—“ dabi pauses his quiet rambling, finally looking up from the slumbering baby tucked away into powder blue silk and locks eyes with you. “and she probably has my mom’s shitty quirk. and i can’t get over how much she looks like them, how big she’s gotten.”

touya finds his shirt after admitting that, throwing on the thin white material before closing the window he came through. he moves with the swiftness that comes with his job, and it’s almost peaceful to watch. you stay plastered by the door, torn between falling right into the palm of his hand and demanding the answers that you and your daughter deserve.

it makes you feel a little sick when he gazes down at kori with pride, it makes you queasy at how easy she was to handle to him. touya todoroki doesn’t know half of what it was to raise his child...but did that make you a bad mother? was there something he shared with kori that you didn’t? dabi hadn’t known what it was to love someone other than himself until he’d met you, but you’d spent your entire life around family and friends who took care of you and made you feel cherished every day. you had all of that before you had dabi, and you’d given it all up for him.

shouldn’t you be the one to easily put your daughter down for a nap? to soothe her tears? and for him to come so briskly into your lives and take care of it all when he doesn’t even know what you’d been through, hurts most of all.

“you don’t even know her,” you start, tremble to your bottom lip as the sob in your throat builds up and threatens to burst. “you never saw her after she was born, never cut the cord, never knew her weight. you don’t know how tiny she was when she came into the world, you don’t know because you didn’t come!” with each word, stray tears manage to escape from your tired eyes, but you’re too fixated on dabi to bother to wipe them. it hurts to cry, it stings even as they stream down the apples of youth cheeks but you don’t move.

“yn, sweetness, i—“

“i know how much she weighed when she was born, four pounds and thirteen ounces. she was so tiny i was scared that she would break—“ you’re gasping now, almost choking yourself out on the pain that burns brightly in your lungs and claws its way up your throat. “i know her favourite foods, what fabrics irritate her skin, her favourite stuffed toys, how she likes to be swaddled in her blankets at night or that her curls make her face itch but they’re practically untameable.”

you start to heave, losing breath with every word and dabi does nothing but watch, keeping an eye on kori to make sure she stays sleeping as he steps towards you. “i know that i love her more than i’ve loved anything in my entire life, despite how much i suffered alone bringing her into this world. and i know that i named her kori after the ice that frosted the windows of my hospital room while i waited for... you.”

touya remains emotionless while you descend into madness, letting you cry it out. “i’ve been watching...”

you want to scream, beat his chest and blame him for how insane you’ve become. “watching isn’t enough touya, she needed you. i-i needed you.” you whimper, falling limp against the door frame as your hands move threateningly towards your hair as if you’re going to rip it out from the root. “...you couldn’t come and visit? not once i-in the eleven months that she’s been alive? not once while she’s been breaking me down and giving—“

“giving you a hard time? i tried, i took care of you from afar...i’m the one who made your boss disappear. the one who put his hands on you.” dabi sneers towards the end of his once gentle words, standing a breaths width away from you. you hate that you crave the same touch from him as he gave to kori, but you’re still so mad at him.

eventually, it all becomes too much and you succumb to the tears that wrack your exhausted body. you sway with each choked wail that tumbles from between your chapped lips and dabi surges forward to catch you after kicking the knife from earlier away, letting you sink into the warmth of his embrace. he feels like home, smells like safety and not a word is uttered as he brings you to the floor and cradles you like he did with his daughter.

dabi doesn’t need to say sorry when he shows you through how close he holds you to his heart.

when you finally calm down, dabi lifts you bridal style to your bathroom and draws you a bath with the salts and lavender extract from the cupboard above the sink. neither of you speak except for when he softly offers to help you undress— to which you decline— and when he tells you he’s going to fix something to eat.

you knew damn well that the villain could not cook, he hadn’t been when he was little since endeavour took away the entirety of his childhood and you’d only taught him the basics when he was still on the run and stopped by your place from time to time. his favourite thing back then had been to watch you cook to the weird music you kept playing, hips swaying to the beat and a sparkle in your eyes— but you didn’t do that anymore, he could tell those days were long gone.

dabi orders in takeout in the end and you have half a mind to curse him out for using your money— but the day’s events have exhausted you beyond your wits end, so you eat with him in silence atop your double bed after dressing in an old shirt of his. “stay the night.” is what you tell him, scared that he’ll leave. he puts his cigarette out on your balcony. the doors usually stayed locked so kori couldn’t crawl out on her own but you opened it for him since dabi liked to smoke and you hated the ash.

he promised to quit back then, and he hadn’t now.

“i’ll stay.” dabi says, throwing the butt over the ledge and stripping his clothes as he follows you to bed. he decides not to mention he wanted to stay anyway. you peel back the covers enough for him to slip in behind you, heated arms wrapping around your waist and settling on your tummy, where he rubs small patterns into your skin. the villain’s chest is  overwhelmingly warm against your back— reminding you of the days where you would spoon and he’d wait with baited breath for kori to kick.

both of you lay together, wide awake in the dark for goodness knows how long. touya’s breath balmy against the nape of your neck and if you focused hard enough, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. he pretends to sleep, refusing to acknowledge that his proximity to you affects him in the worst of ways— evident in how his prominent hard on presses against the swell of your ass.

rolling over, your heart skips a beat at the way your love’s eyes still manage to glow brightly in the dark— ignited by the flames of his quirk and emotions of angst from the past.

they flicker as he looks to you, pale skin illuminated by the silver moon slipping in from your balconies, scars as enticing as ever. tentatively, you reach a hand out to cup his face, not kidding the apprehension that paint his matured features even as you run your fingers down the scars on his jaw. “been a while since we’ve been like this,” is all you can muster up, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek while your free hand snakes between your bodies in an attempt to pleasure the man.

fear strikes you right in the chest, leaving you panting as dabi flips you onto your back quickly, pinning your wrists against the bed. “don’t,” he growls, almost feral in tone and in his eyes. “don’t do something you might regret in the morning.”

you lay still, staring at the man above you in an attempt to read him. doing so had always been hard, but tonight you can see every detail of his life and every part of him.  the fear of being his father and disappointing another group of people, a broken man torn between the people he loved and the life he led— you could finally see him. you wondered if it hurt him to be away from you and his child, if he ever thought of you.

you take a deep breath, fabric of the sheets fuzzy in your ears as you shake your head up at him. “i could never regret being with you,” you sigh, dabi’s gaze lowering. “i just need you...”

your proclamation is all the permission dabi needs before he ascends on your neck, almost whimpering at the taste of your skin against his tongue. you know that he’s avoiding your lips, scared that things may not feel the same if he kisses you there— as if your love might have fizzled out from the months that you’ve been apart. the villain’s mouth is hot against your skin, sharp teeth sinking into the column of your throat— it’s not hard for him to find the spots that make your back arch and body tingle, the dark haired man  would be embarrassed to admit that he had your body mapped out in his brain. you were all that he thought about in the months between then and now.

you miss his lips, but you fear that if you push your love to far he’ll clam up and withdraw from you completely. you can’t lose him while you have him now. in the meantime, your bodies press against one another hotly, burning while dabi paints shades of blue and purple deeper than his eyes against your flesh before lapping at each love bite with an odd tenderness people wouldn’t think he possessed at first glance. as he works, touya loses grip on your wrists, allowing them free roam across the expanse of his back.

your nails leave light tracks across his back, trailing up from his muscled back to the nape of his neck— curling in the white roots of his hair in an attempt to tug him up to your lips. “baby,” the old pet name tumbles from between them before you can catch yourself, laboured from where you’re short of breath. “please kiss me, please..”

with newly mussed hair, dabi is still for a moment before leaving one last mark at where your jaw meets your neck— wet tongue lolling over the fresh bruise while his large palm move back to cup your head. a thumb belonging to a scared hand runs over your bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh down while he watches your face for a reaction. “are you sure that’s what you want, beautiful?” the villain chuckles into the dark of the night, pink muscle running over his own lips to wet them in anticipation. “you want your man to kiss you?”

your senses go into overdrive, desperate for any kind of contact from the man above you— he feels so close and yet, a million miles away, even with his body making its way between your thighs and your chests pressing together eagerly.

“touya—“ you breathe, barely able to finish your sentence before the man himself delves deep into your mouth. his lips move with hesitance at first, sucking on yours slightly and parting for air more often than he should but you grip him by the whites of his hair firmly and tug him further into the kiss. your tongue dances along the seam of his lips, prying them open as you seek permission for entrance— dabi groans lowly as you tug on his roots and force your way into his mouth, tasting him as if it were your last time.

you swallow each of his moans that mingle softly with your own, while your tongues dance together messily— the kiss were and sloppy as if the two of you were out of practice. your worries fly out of the window from there, it’s good to know that neither of you had been with others during your time apart instead you feel like a teenager making out with their highschool crush for the very first time. dabi’s hips rut into the plush bed beneath you both and you can tell that even the slightest touches are riling him up beyond belief— it’d been almost a year since he’d felt you against him in any way and it didn’t help that you were so ready to accept him.

that you still wanted him.

whimpering at the thought, the villain pauses against your lips to catch his breath— panting softly. you can feel him pulling away, questioning if he deserves to be with you after everything he’d put you through. so, cupping dabi’s jaw, you let your free hand slip between your heated bodies and glide your fingertips along the waist band of his sweats.

“yn, i ain’t so sure about this,” dabi sighs, body twitching at the proximity of your hands to his hardness, his eyelids flutter shut and lock away his beautiful blue eyes— holding fear, insecurity and desire. “what if ya’still regret this later on?”

smiling up at him, you thumb at his cheek and work your hand deeper into his pants, past his underwear. “you’ve been away too long baby, i would regret not being with you more,” you coo up at him just as you grasp at his hardened length, watching as dabi shudders in your grip. his cock leaks hotly against your soft palm from going untouched for so long, your fingers explore him— tracing down the thick veins on the underside of his length. “let me make you feel good tonight.”

“fuck, sweetness. talk pretty with that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.” touya breathes heavily against your mouth, both of yours falling open in hot moans. cheekily, you run a thumb over his tip, circling the slit at the top. dabi collapses on top of you, burying his mop of salt and pepper hair into your neck as he drives his hips into your hand at his own leisurely pace. “y’better live up to those words—shit, don’t go letting me down, princess.” jade orbs finally open, heavy with lust and desire as the air around you tingles with a newfound desire to make each other feel good, settling on the planes of your marked and scratched skin.

your grip around dabi tightens while he fucks into your closed fist, wet sounds filling the room from where he leaks at his bright red tip— almost hot as his hands that dance up your sides and tenderly touch at your hips. so unsure, yet so needy. clear, thick precum guides the movement of your hand as it slides up and down your lover’s girth— he’s much bigger than you remember, swollen with an impending orgasm and dabi stutters when you reach further down his boxers to grip at weighty balls full of his seed, just about ready to burst.

he howls from deep within his chest, the noise only muffled from the drool that glides across his tongue before the villain’s wandering and scarred palms stop at your rib cage, settling just under your breasts. you don’t bother to stop pleasuring him even as his quirk ignites, blue flames burning right through your night shirt to expose your skin to the cool night air.  without even a second thought, dabi’s mouth ascends on your tits, taking one into the hot cavern while his free hand seers marks over the other.

the thought have being branded by your man makes your hips jump and your hand squeeze his cock in your grip— a reminder of what’s to come later on. his strawberry tongue rolls across your hardened nipple and you yelp in surprise with the sudden feeling of cool metal across the exposed flesh. “y-you have your tongue pierced?” you squeal as dabi repeats his actions, loving the way you arch your back into his mouth and your heart rate speeds up.

“never know when a bit of metal’s gonna come in handy, sugar tits.”

you barely have time to formulate a response before your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and marking your raw flesh like a man starved of his last meal— you don’t let up either, quickly pumping his cock as he continues to leak, painting your hand with teases of his incoming release. you’re sure that his sweatpants and the sheets below you will be stained with his arousal from how much precum oozes from his dick, slicking up your hands and creating the perfect flashlight but you don’t dare to think of anything else but the way dabi’s face twists with pleasure as he desperately thrusts himself into the softness of your palm.

his cheeks flush red, globs of drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his tongue while his eyes grow fuzzy at each step he takes closer to orgasm, the very drool from his mouth covers each of your breasts as dabi switches between them— creating a layer of wet against your supple skin that shines under the moon. you flick your wrist around him, faster, harder— giving the villain everything you’ve got to make him feel good.

“shit pretty girl, y’gonna make me...cum,” touya shakes in your grip, eyes crossing and tongue becoming lazy against your marked up chest. his salvia pools against your skin while he pants and fucks your wet hand as if it were your pretty little cunt clamping down on him. “fuck, fuck, fuck. don’t you fuckin’ stop, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop...”

he barks out the demands, but there’s a neediness to his tone and whine to his voice that makes you grin with pride, even if you’re barely there from having your nipples stimulated beyond belief. “cum for me touya, please, wanna feel you come undone for me.” you beg him, ever so slightly and it’s just enough to push the villain over the edge, sending him into an earth shattering orgasm. you don’t dare to stop as you jerk him off, guiding down from his high as his cock twitches from release and paints your knuckles with the thick white of his seed. he mewls contendly into your breasts, slowing his hips while the world of colours dance behind his cerulean eyes.

“here with me yet?” you murmur to him, grasping his wild locks to tilt his head up towards your face— dabi looks so blissed out but the smirk on his raw and bitten lips tells you the night is far from over.

pressing a searing kiss to your sternum, your boyfriend’s pierced tongue makes yet another appearance as he trails the muscle down your soft tummy— biting your navel as he goes. “never left gorgeous, but don’t you fucking dare think for a second that this is over, y’got that?” he sits up quickly, grabbing hold of your doughy thighs and using them to pull you down the bed. the pads of his fingers start to burn marks into your skin, dancing along your legs and stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. “gotta stretch this cunt open before i give you my cock, remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

spreading your thighs nice and wide, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as dabi’s hands finally come into contact with your slit, prodding at your slick folds from over your panties. lowering his face between your open legs, your boyfriend hums in satisfaction as he peels your sticky panties away from your pussy. “why, babydoll, you’re so fucking wet down here. this can’t all be for me, can it?” touya teases you, hot breath fanning against your unused sex while his fingers play with the string of your slick that coats them. “y’must’ve missed your man badly for your lil cunt to look this fucked up, s’pecially when i haven’t even touched’ya yet.”

you shiver and nod weakly, willing to say or do anything to feel more of your boyfriend against you. “s’all for you dabi, o-only you could get me this wet, n-no one else could take your place...” you mewl, hips bucking into the air while the man himself watches you grow needier and needier, hormones expelled into the air. dabi grins, leaning into your core once more to press his nose into your wetness, sniffing your spiked panties like the dirty man he is— only to then lay his pierced tongue flat against your folds, tracing your hole with the muscle while his nose bumps at your clothed clit.

“saved this all for me, huh? you’re so loyal, sweetness. waiting for me all this time…” he kitten licks at your cunt until you’re writhing amongst the already solid sheets, forcing his spit into your hole from over the thin fabric of your panties, creating a more prominent outline of your puffy lower lips as your thighs quieter around his head. they threaten to close as he works on you through your underwear— teasing and prodding at your sex to see if you respond the same way to his touches as you used to.

you force your shaking through his black and white locks, grabbing hold of his roots in an attempt to pull dabi back to your heat when he lifts his head from between your thighs— pushing your lips into a pout. “no, no no, baby, please— need you to eat my cunt, want your mouth on me, please!” you cry out, but you’re quickly pacified by his scarred hand which cups your pussy— seat of his hand grinding into your clit.

“god, if i had known you were still this eager to fuck me i woulda come home a long time ago, babydoll.” he chuckles, licking up your inner thigh and biting down on the plush flesh. “need’ta get rid of these though, they’re getting in my way.” the villain gestures to your panties, making you watch as his quirk burns it’s way through the silky material until it’s nothing but ash against your sheets. you gasp as soon as your cute little pussy is exposed to the cool air, missing the warmth of touya’s pink tongue against it. “better.” he sneers, eyes bright and glowing in the dark with a new sense of feral desire.

thick digits press into your tight hole at the same time touya takes to sucking on your swollen clit, forcing their way up your velvet walls in search for your pleasure spot. dabi chuckles against your sticky folds as you begin to whine, hips rolling up into your lover’s face while his tongue draws rough patterns onto your bud. you’ve missed him, missed this. the nights where the villain dabi would sneak into your home, becoming your touya todoroki between the four walls that you shared— where you would spend nights seeing stars by his hand or his cock and he would make you his over and over again. the memories have you clamping down on his digits like there’s no tomorrow, greedily sucking them in as he strokes at the walls of your sex and makes your whole body shake.

touya works hard at pleasuring you, apologising for his absence through slurping the juices from your folds only for you to gush and paint his scarred chin with more of your nectar. the way you taste makes him dizzy, he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs and never miss the outside world like he did before tonight. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good too and it’s not enough to feel the ecstasy roll off of your heavenly body in waves— he wants all of you, mind, body and soul to belong to him.

you can barely breathe, leaking with every swipe of his tongue against you and every twist of his fingers inside of you. you can feel everything at once, the euphoria crackling across your brain, high on the way touya makes you feel. “god, t-touya, don’ stop...feel so fucking good…” you heave in a drawn out moan, barely able to tell what’s up and what’s down as the villain pulls his fingers from your slick hole and replaces them with his tongue ( only after they’ve pushed down on your g-spot over and over again ).

“you’re not the one giving orders, sweet stuff, oh no.” dabi reminds you sloppily, looking like a child with no table manners as your nectar smears across his face. for his own satisfaction, he delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, watching as your entire body jolts and jumps up the bed. “your cunt is mine and i’ll do what i want with it, show you how much i missed it.”

his possessive words almost set you off, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every pinch of your nub and every swirl on his tongue inside your walls, committing every ridge to memory. your body burns and you’re not sure if it’s from dabi pressing against you so hotly or because of the desire that fuels the fire inside you.

“yours, yours, yours!” you chant like a mantra, high pitched and whiny— your voice mixing with the crude sounds of your own pathetic cunt, that grows louder when dabi spits on your clit to add to your wetness. he lets it drip between your folds, fingers to busy with stimulating you to catch it before it slides between your lower cheeks, opting to use his tongue on you instead.

“ya’like that don’t you? missed your whinin’ pretty girl, fuck, even missed making you a fucking mess.” you keen into his touch, babbling incoherent praises to the man between your legs as he spreads you wider by the ass with one hand and forces his fingers back into your cunt with the other. his fingers curl into a come hither motion, repeatedly pressing down on your spongy spot as he sloppily makes out with your puffy nub— taking only one, two, three strokes to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your orgasm to wash over you.

your body convulses, shaking as you’re hit hard by your release— juices gushing all over your lover’s face even as he refuses to let up. “t-touya no...no no...can-can’t,” you whinge, tears clumping in your lashes. dabi spreads your lips again, using three digits instead of two to continue stimulating your clit until another release builds up inside your lower belly— clear liquid gushing out of your abused pussy and staining the sheets below.

he hums proudly, pressing a lasting kiss to your fluttering hole before reaching up to your lips to do the same, barely allowing you the time to catch your breath— chest heaving while you come down from your high. “so pretty when you squirt for me like that, sweetness,” dabi moans into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him. but as soon as he comes, he’s gone— rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips so your ass sits in the air for him. “gonna take my cock now, kay?”

“kay,” you mumble into the sheets, brain too  fuzzy to resist as the villain manhandles you the way he wants.

after shoving down his sweatpants, the eldest todoroki grips the peachy soft flesh of your ass— smacking it a few times with his heat activated palms to watch the flesh jiggle and his handprint sink into the skin. you lean back, watching over your shoulder as his cock stands at full attention, hard from seeing you come undone on his fingers and tongue. it burns bright red at the tip, another fat glob of precum making it shine and making you dribble with anticipation. “y’such a fuckin’ slut, my beautiful slut… hungry for my cock even after i’ve wrecked your lil pussy so bad,” dabi says with a cocky lilt to his voice, the very tone making your hole clench around nothing. he taps his sticky cockhead against your slit, running it up and down your cunt three or four times— groaning as it slides between your cheeks. the sensation causes your back to arch as you wail, fingers gripping the bed covers so tight that you almost cause them to tear. “don’t you worry baby, ‘m gonna make up for lost time, you don’t have to miss me anymore.”

there’s a double meaning to his words that you don’t ask him to elaborate on, too caught up in the way he teases your hole as he dips his length in— only to pull it right back out. “don’t tease, need you badly,” you plead, earning yourself another harsh spank to your raw ass cheeks.

“shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” the words are harsh against his tongue, but dabi utters them softly as he relents to his wishes. his cerulean gaze flutters down to where your bodies begin to join, his large hand gripping his length before he starts to push into your dribbling entrance. “god, you’re s’fuckin’ tight, you might as well be a virgin.” pussy spasming at his words, you leak against touya’s cock, creating a lewd squelching sound as he pushes more of himself into you. the weight of dabi’s thick girth causes painful, yet delicious burn which he eases by rubbing soothing circles into your clit once more. “been s’long, i outta fuck you open again, huh?”

“uhuh, take me again touya. make me yours, all over again.” you slur over the spit drowning your tongue, eyes fluttering shut when the villain’s hips surge forward his dick brushes against your cervix. his rough, calloused palm grabs your neck from behind, forcing you down into the sheets while he bottoms out inside of you and pushes the last of his cock past your entrance. the two of you groan in unison, touya sitting heavy inside of your walls before you muster up the energy to say. “move.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, whilst dabi was enjoying the feeling of being engulfed by your soft, warm insides— cock twitching in relief from time to time— he finds it within him to pull back from your selfish cunt to thrust into you with all his might. the force pulls a broken squeal from between your bitten and bruised lips, your hips pushing back against dabi to keep him inside of you. the pair of you move in sync, bodies dancing in a sensual grind between lovers that moulds your cunt into the shape of your boyfriend once more. “oh fuck yeah baby, oooh, missed your cunny s’bad…” dabi yowls loudly, listening for the squashy sounds of your sexes moving against one another. “christ, you like when i talk about your pathetic little pussy like this?”

you bite down on your lower lip, embarrassed by your own bleats of pleasure when he degrades you like this. annoyed by your lack of answer, touya grabs onto your hips and pulls you off of his cock, only to slam them back into you seconds later. his pace is unforgiving and relentless from there, forcing your body up the bed with every thrust into your core. “yes! like it, love it, missed your cock so bad touya!” you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life as his dick drags along your pleasure spots and his hands burn marks into your ass and hips.

weakly, you attempt to match his thrusts. circling the meat of your ass back onto dabi and squeezing around the head of his girth every time it plunges into your sopping pussy. your arousals mix as he pounds away at your hole, a thick string hanging between your bodies and dribbling down your inner thighs, tainting innocent skin. the wet noise reverberates across the room, creating a passionate symphony with dabi’s deep, pitiful moans.

even though it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this, dabi still knew all the ways to get your body going. he took you from behind but still let his marred hands wonder and explore the planes of your skin, pinching here and there, marking your body as his to use and his alone. there’s love hidden beneath his rough touches, little signs that he missed having you so close to him— having you split open on his cock while you dripped on his pelvis and ruined your bedsheets, was his own way of unleashing his pent up emotions of love, anger and despair onto you and you wanted it. you wanted his good and his bad while he fucked you like his life depended on it, balls deep inside the pussy of the woman he loved was where he was most vulnerable with you.

“s-shit, sweetness, you’re such a pretty mess, so fucked up on my cock, can feel you clamping around me like my greedy bitch should.” you’re stuffed so full, clenching every time touya drives his cock deeper into your gummy cunt, head prodding at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. he’s losing his mind at how you choke out his iron hot girth, clear liquid seeping down your thighs at every thrust. “you’re my beautiful brain dead baby, letting me fuck you like this, yeah? missed you baby, missed this,” despite his words, touya is no better than you, mind hazy with thoughts of you creaming around him because of how good he’s made you feel. him, and no one else. you saved yourself for him after all these months, the least he could do was bring you to cloud nine.

he does so by angling his thrusts up to meet your pleasure spot every time, howling your name in the way he knows you like just to feel your hot cunny spew more of your juices out against his tummy. “missed you, thought about this for months,” you lament, elbows that kept you up finally giving out as your body tiredly collapses into the sheets— dabi’s balls still clapping against your ass. he follows you down into bed covers, chest pressing hotly against your back as the jackhammers into you from behind. “thought about your fat cock in my tight pussy, t-touched myself to you...made being alone worth it, made waiting for you to come home worth it. ‘cause i get to see your beautiful face when you fuck me…” you barely register what you’re saying, babbling incorrectly while the temperature of your body rises with your level of arousal.

behind you, touya’s cheeks burn with a new feeling. deep down, all he wanted was to be validated as a lover to you, he’d always been deemed as the bad guy incapable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself. but you, you had proved him wrong so many times and he still found your words hard to believe. yet, it felt good to know how much you loved him. snaking a hand down to your face, the villain squishes your cheeks together and brings you up to his own face despite the arch to your back— he keeps up his sinful pace, your lower cheeks bouncing with every push and pull of his length while he drips a globule of his saliva into your pouting mouth. “shut up,” he grunts harshly, although love is written across his cobalt eyes.

you smile up at him dopily, keeping eye contact with him as you swallow gratefully. “anything for you,” his hands slip from your squashed cheeks to your throat, cupping it as he holds you against him. more arousal pools in your lower stomach, turned on by the thrill of him being able to end your life right then and there, all it would take would be one flame but you know more than anything that dabi loves you and would never hurt you. “i love you, touya todoroki. i a-always will.”

your admission makes dabi’s heart stop in his chest, heated pants tickling your ear as he continues to take you and claim your body as his. with newfound vigor, he links his free hand with yours that lays against the bed and rams his cock into your core as hard and as fast as he can, determined to make you cum. “i—oh fuck, i love you too, sweetness…” the arsonist can feel the way your cunt flutters around his girth at his confession, tears building up in your eyes once more. god, you were so pretty like this, arched for him perfectly in the moon, stars illuminating every curve and dip on your body— showing off the stretch marks from where you’d carried his child. everything about you turned him on in the best possible ways and everything about you that turned him on, also turned out to be everything he loved about you.

your stupid big heart, your stupid big eyes when you say that you love him, your stupid smile when he used to kiss you and hold you and even now when he fucked you. touya todoroki was in love and in the worst possible way but he couldn’t say he regretted a single moment of it, not when you stayed true to him after all these months of being apart. you raised his child and you loved him all the same and a part of him is grateful that you never turned your back on him like everyone else he’s ever loved.

so the least he could do is make love to you, push his creamy cock into the depth of your core while kissing down your spine to watch you shudder oh so cutely. it’s messy and sloppy and the pair of you should feel nasty for the stench of sex in the air, lingering against your skin. but you don’t, how could you? not when love and adoration tingles in the air as well, it’s messy because of the unadulterated emotions you feel for one another— deep in vulnerability is where dabi grinds his cock slowly into you, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name into the night. makes him mumble incoherent praises against your bruised neck and squished cheeks as he lewdly licks a stripe up the column of your neck to behind your ear.

you gush around him and he grunts with ecstasy into your ear, tightening that knot in your stomach as you both step closer to your highs. “you like the way i fill this cunt up, huh? yeah? when i hold you like this, when i fuck you like this?” dabi mutters to you lewdly, holding onto his sanity by a thin thread as his own release sneaks up on him. “tell me you like it...fuck sweetness, please.”

“i love the way you fuck me touya, fuck! only you can make me feel this good,” you moan to appease him, bouncing back against his cock while his hips begin to stutter and your eyes begin to cross. it’s true, you love belonging to him, being able to bring him such pleasure and you know he feels the same way. the villain prods at your g-spot over and over again, stealing your breath away as he pulls you up and into your chest, changing the angle of his hips to bring you to the last hurdle. “baby—ohmygod—-touya! ‘m sososo close, don’t stop...don’t stop, gonna cum, give it to me, give it to me please!” you chant, eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back against his shoulder and search for his hand, voice rising with every octave as you get closer and closer.

“fucking cum for me sweet girl, shit, cum all over this fucking cock.” dabi manages through gritted teeth, grasping your hand while the pace of his thrusts grow inconsistent.

that’s all that you need to hear before the damn breaks and arousal floods through your entire body courses through your veins. white dances behind your eyes in flashes as your release flushes out of your pussy and drips between touya’s balls, coating them in a layer your honeyed slick. you slump against your boyfriend, not able to mutter a word as you convulse in a silent scream and squeeze both his hand and cock alike.

gently, he pushes you down to the bed and pulls his cock from your intoxicating heat— his free hand clasps around his cock, palming himself towards a swift release. “yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ love you baby,” he cums on your back and your ass, thick, potent and milky seed landing on your flushed skin before he collapses beside you and exhaustion settles in his bones.

you black out for a few minutes after, fingers still intertwined but dabi manages to slip out long enough to retrieve a washcloth that's damp and warm to clean you both up with. you wake up just as he crawls back into bed with you, kissing your hairline while he makes himself comfortable. “almost thought i’d killed you for a second,” the villain jokes, slinging a loose arm over your bare waist and pulling you to lay on his chest.

“you couldn’t, even if you tried.” you counter sleepily, drawing star shapes on your boyfriend’s naked stomach. a comfortable silence sweeps over the room, despite the thoughts that linger on your mind. looking up at dabi, you notice him drifting off but still can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “why didn’t you ever come back?”

you feel dabi’s chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, fingers coming up to scratch at your scalp— something that used to help you to sleep when you were together before. “i was figuring out a way to get out of the league, to be with you and kori.” he says after some time, catching your eye as you give him a confused look. “shigaraki doesn’t know about her, i never told him. but i knew from the moment we found out about her, i didn’t want her to be a part of the life i’m involved in and knowing how the league works, they’d find a way to make use of her.”

you stay quiet, not knowing what to do with the new information and dabi’s reasoning for staying away for so long. on one hand you were grateful to him for keeping your daughter quiet and safe but part of you still wished he’d given you a sign to let you know it’d all be okay. grabbing your chin, he forces you to look up at him—passionate flames burning in his eyes. “i need you to trust me on this one sweetness, i promise nothin’ will happen to you nor kori. so long as i’m around.”

“pinky promise?” you ask him sweetly, feeling the truth to his words.

you hold up your pinky to the villain’s face, smiling through exhaustion as he rolls his eyes down at you. “pinky promise, babydoll. now get some shut eye, kay?” touya links your pinky with his, scoffing when you make him kiss them.

“g’night, touya.”

“sleep well, babydoll.”

the bed is cold when you wake up the next morning.

the panic sets in quickly, speeding up with the chirping of birds from your balcony outside. you shouldn’t be tearing up over the childishness of a pinky promise. he always made you promises but never actually kept the and as quickly as dabi had waltzed back into your life, he had left you alone and in the cold once more.

gathering yourself together, you stumble out of your bed— avoiding any mirrors that may show the cascade of marks dabi had left against your skin from the previous night. you feel embarrassed and ashamed that you let him back into your life so easily, especially now that you had kori to think about. tears start to well in your tired and puffy eyes as you head to the kitchen, thinking that a mug of coffee will calm you down before you prep your daughter for the day.

but as you wander out of your room, the familiar sound of your baby girl’s laugher drifts through the air— seemingly coming from the kitchen.  the sweet melody calls out to you and suddenly your casual stride to the kitchen becomes a brisk walk so you can reach her faster. “kori? baby? did you climb out of your crib again—?” you call out to her, stopping in your tracks when you round the corner.

dabi stands in the middle of your kitchen, still shirtless, with kori balanced on his hip— in one hand he holds a small blue flame, which you’re sure he believes is safe enough for kori to play with while the other steadies your baby girl while she claps and squeals. a first. you’re not too sure when the last time you’d seen her happy was, but you figure her father’s presence had something to do with it.

“i was going to make you breakfast, but the little shit woke up and i didn’t have enough free hands to make you a grilled cheese.” touya smirks over at you, diminishing his flame to grasp kori’s hand and use it to wave at you. she squeals happily, curls bouncing and eyes lighting up in a similar way to her father’s. your heart melts at the sight of them being together, seeing the mannerisms that they share and how joyous they seem. they both grinned the same way, shared the little twitch in their noses and even their sneezes. kori todoroki was an exact replica of touya todoroki, right down to the tiny red curl she had lost in her white locks.

“you know, i thought you’d left,” you make your way across to the island where dabi sets his daughter down and check her temperature— just in case her sudden change in mood is down to any sickness. “the bed was cold when i woke up.”

“didn’t i make you a promise last night, sweetness? i’m not going anywhere,” the arsonist reminds you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you wipe at kori’s pudgy baby cheeks and give her the once over again. “if you’re checking the kid’s temperature, she's usually pretty cold because of my mom’s quirk. something ice related will be coming through, but she must’ve inherited your strong constitution. guess she has a normal body temp when i’m around ‘cause it balances her out.” while dabi explains the inner workings of kori’s incoming quirk, she claps and babbles excitedly from her place on the island— making a game out of throwing her toys off of it. all of dabi’s logic makes sense and you seem a little more relieved knowing how to take care of her from here.

picking her up, along with her stray toys, you set your baby down by her playmat again and switch on some baby-safe cartoons while you fix yourself and dabi some coffee, kissing all over kori’s face beforehand. he had whined when you pulled away the first time to give your daughter some attention, it was almost comical how the big bad villain had pouted then. “i wonder if there’s anything of mine she inherited or if it’s all you and todoroki genetics.”

“well, her pretty smile certainly didn’t come from me, babydoll.” dabi muses with a light chuckle, arms trapping you against his chest once more as you continue to make you both some much needed caffeine. the coffee machine whirrs as you sway together in the early morning sunshine, warmth from the sun brushing against your skin and touya’s hair tickling your neck before he presses kisses over your fading love bites while kori’s annoying shows play in the background. everything feels complete and at peace. you feel like a real family. “i could get used to this, this life with you.”

you spin in dabi’s arms, cupping his cheeks and taking in his face for the millionth time in the last twelve hours. “then stay, or at least visit some more now that you’re back. you may not feel it, but kori and i need you. everything has always been better when you’ve been around touya… and i mean that. stay.” you stare at him with pleading eyes, standing on your tiptoes to stare him down and communicate just how much you needed him here with you both.

and for once in his life, touya todoroki feels the most loved he’s ever really felt. here in this shitty two bedroom apartment with his angelic little girl and his beautiful girlfriend during the winter season— touya knows this is right where he needs to be. “i’ll stay, for as long as you’ll fuckin’ have me.”

“forever, then?” you ask, eyes lowering to your boyfriend’s lips.

“forever it is, babydoll.” the villain nods, following your gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with a promise written into your sweet kiss.

extended ending

you thought that the best kind of weather was when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds but the air around you was still as cold as a december’s day. the breeze is enough to make your nose run just a little, but occasionally the warmth of the sun’s rays radiates across your skin like a warm blanket, balancing it out.

it was the kind of weather where people didn’t know how to dress, some wore mismatched shorts and jerseys whilst others were decked out in scarves up to their cheeks and sandals where their toes flopped out. it was the kind of weather that reminded you of dabi and kori, they were your warmth and your cold, they balanced each other out and made your family whole.

kori sits on your right hip as you push the car door closed and wave goodbye to an accomplice of your boyfriend’s— your driver for the evening. your little girl’s curls are combed back into two even pigtails, dark blue bows in each one while the red lock of her hair ( now, much longer ) curls against her forehead stubbornly. she looks so pretty, all fancied up a dress that dabi had chosen for her on this particular occasion, the lace irritated her only slightly but the decapitated endeavour plushie her father had gifted her served nicely as a distraction.

you bounce her once, cooing down at your baby before you look to the hospital in front of you— a look of determination in your eye. ever since the night touya had visited you and swore to stay, he’d kept his word to the best of his abilities. being a villain was still a major factor in your relationship, he came when he could stayed if his job permitted it— taking care of your daughter when your shifts were long and even going as far as to learn his and kori’s favourite recipes to cook on the nights where you couldn’t or you didn’t fancy take out.

in the last few weeks his visits had become slightly more scarce with shigaraki becoming more and more demanding, but touya’s plan to leave the league was slowly coming to fruition along with endeavour and the hero society which had both carved a life of struggle for the three of you.

your boyfriend being busy had given you more time to reconnect with the friends you had lost over the last year, meeting up with those from college, mina and tsuyu ( who’d simply thought you’d gone off the radar ) for kori’s first birthday. they absolutely loved her and your sweet girl loved all the attention she was getting. you even had the chance to reunite with your parents, who were more remorseful that you felt you couldn’t come to them for help than the fact that you’d gotten pregnant during college.

of course, they all asked who the father was and you simply told them that he had died ( which was half true ), using the excuse that you were embarrassed to be widowed and with a child at your young age.

shaking your head, you enter the hospital and recite the words that touya had made you practice the night before. you were here by endeavours orders and needed to see mrs.todoroki. your lover had used some sort of hack to put you on the list of visitors for his mother but one look at kori was all the guards and staff needed to let you through. a few nights prior to today, dabi had asked you to do one thing for him before it all went down, kissing your knuckles over some sushi take out.

so despite your nerves, you would go through with this for him, especially if it meant your family could be together. some guards escort yourself and kori to rei todoroki’s room, leaving you with a curt nod and slightly more polite wave to your daughter. the room itself is slightly bleak, a chair and some blue cushioned sofas positioned in an L-shape parallel to the blanketed bed. there’s a tv in the top left corner which and a set of draws underneath where a clear vase sits— containing blooming blue flowers.

rei looks up when you enter, grey eyes flashing with confusion despite the blank look on her face as kori babbles happily in your arms. “who are you?” she whispers, hands retreating from her flowers and  folding neatly in her lap.

“oh! i’m yn, your son’s fiancé and this,” you beam kindly, further entering the room and being sure to lock the doors behind you. you nod your head down to your daughter who waves around her endeavour plushy— paying no mind to the situation unfolding. “this is our daughter, your granddaughter...kori todoroki! she’s just turned one and daddy thought it was about time she met you, isn’t that right pretty girl?”

“dada!!!”

rei blinks and you smile again. “she’s a daddy’s girl,” you explain and lift your hand to snow the small sapphire engagement ring on your ring finger. touya had proposed last night as well, certain your plan would work out. “and quite frankly, so am i! how can i not be when your son treats me so well.”

nodding slowly, the wife of endeavour looks down at her hands which you note, nervously fiddle with a stray petal. “so, natsu and you—?” you can see her trying to work it out, curiosity written across her features. you could see why the woman might think kori was natuso’s child— they looked a lot like each other just by first glance but rei was missing an important feature. the colour of kori’s eyes.

“oh no, your other son. the eldest one.” you correct her with a sinister shake of your head. swiftly crossing the room to set your daughter down in rei’s lap. you watch with an evil air of satisfaction as rei todoroki freezes with fear, as the mistakes her family paid out to touya suddenly come to the forefront of her mind. she wobbles with kori still in her grip and you shoot her a dark glare— reaching over to fix her flowers in their vase. “touya picked these out, always said that you loved them. such a pretty shade of blue, no wonder why they’re your favourites, right?”

“please leave.” she looks up at you pleadingly, shaking like a leaf in the breeze outside. oh how you wish your fiancé was here to see this but he had more important things to do.

rolling your eyes, you grab the remote to switch on the tv— pinching kori’s nose affectionately to make her laugh again. “come sit with me rei, let’s watch some tv to help you calm down.”

the woman nods weakly, barely moving an inch as you take a seat beside her with a smile. you skip channels a few times, pride swelling up in your chest when you finally land on the right one, touya’s broadcast flashing across the screen. he sits leisurely in a chair, shirtless with all of his beautiful scars on display— a painful reminder of his childhood and what he’d become. “i, touya  todoroki, was born as the eldest son of endeavour. today i’ve killed over 30 innocent people until now, some to protect my family. my daughter, who i have not been able to see due to my father. i would like to let everyone know why i’d end up committing such a hideous act.” he speaks such calmness and clarity, and you can’t help but feel emotional at how he stands in front of the world.

kori grins, leaping up at the sight of her father on the screen and claps her hands. “dada!! dada!! lookie s’daddy!!” she squeals while rei struggles to breathe, panic set in her eyes.

you put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, offering her a sweet grin in an attempt to calm her before the oncoming storm. “keep watching, mrs.todoroki, touya said we’d be one big, happy family after this.” the words are sugar coated and sickly sweet, carrying the dark meaning across to your fiancé’s mother.

looking away, your heart swells while touya tears down the hero society and spills the truth for all of japan to see. you were grateful to the man he’d become— loyal to you, to your daughter and the dreams that you had. the satisfaction of seeing the real villains of the world fall was much greater than any hush money enji todoroki could ever offer.

fin.

— TAGLIST:

@husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @grace-todoroki @toshiuwu  @whet-ones-write​

[1kook]

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k 

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming. 

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education). 

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way. 

���She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms. 

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries. 

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable. 

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows. 

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.” 

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum. 

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close. 

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed. 

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin. 

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone. 

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress. 

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt. 

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite. 

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up. 

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks. 

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.  

It’s your turn to mope. 

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand. 

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses. 

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh. 

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels. 

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad. 

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“ 

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down. 

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome. 

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities. 

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about. 

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest. 

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover. 

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.” 

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee. 

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite. 

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now. 

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.” 

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold. 

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes. 

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon. 

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her. 

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown. 

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead. 

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear. 

It’s the hardest thing about parenting. 

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is. 

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show. 

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.” 

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years. 

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight. 

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now. 

A second later, “lemme join.” 

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick. 

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface 

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions. 

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit. 

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky. 

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home. 

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now. 

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back. 

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice. 

Then, and apparently, now. 

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck. 

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together. 

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper. 

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt. 

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time. 

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips. 

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you. 

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long. 

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body. 

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him. 

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line. 

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could. 

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you. 

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist. 

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore? 

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.  

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?” 

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.  

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it. 

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you. 

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.  

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat. 

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt. 

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time. 

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.” 

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully. 

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole. 

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything. 

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure. 

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time. 

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone. 

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped. 

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas. 

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever. 

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling. 

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence. 

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out. 

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch. 

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach. 

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys. 

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever. 

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.  

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.” 

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.  

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer. 

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off. 

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again. 

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific. 

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position. 

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you. 

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds. 

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him. 

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt. 

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip. 

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh. 

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you. 

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace. 

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out. 

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you. 

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones. 

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year. 

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace. 

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—” 

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well. 

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway. 

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy. 

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news. 

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you. 

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mercy-burning]

Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST:  @elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @ssacalumsg0lden @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17​ @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos  @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams 

TAGS NOT WORKING: @ayla-1605 @mggskneescrews 

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!