#my fingers hurt just looking at this picture :’)

[pennyellee]

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

title: ELIXIR pairings: mafia hoseok x female reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s, arranged marriage, childhood friends to lovers word count: 22K/tba release date: 02.18.25 beta read by one and only @chaoticpuff17

prompt 1: "And I won't be satisfied till we're taking those vows" prompt 2: you were apparently promised to the heir of Jung's criminal empire since birth, not that you ever took that ongoing inside joke seriously. You grew up alongside the said man, yet your mind is conflicted about upholding your part and saying I do until one drunken night reveals a lot more than you'd like.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | explicit language, hurt men's ego, mild yandere behaviour (warnings were reduced to avoid spoilers)

author's note: ionoiafhoianfoaif, yalllll, I was writing this like foreveeeeerrrrr. So this is where it all basically started in my head when I created the retelling of what happened around the year 1996. Still, somehow Champagne Confetti and Anubis got out first, mainly because I will continue them, but this is one shot exclusively (I'm open to filler tho). Why? The story of Princess and Hoseok never dies throughout both the fics that are already out and those that will only come. Mainly with Anubis' chapters, you'll get to see them. I'm just as nervous to put this out as I am with every fic but very excited to throw Elixir in the world. I'm simultaneously working on my MA diploma thesis so bear with me when I'm radio silent, but I love you all! I appreciate you reading my stuff my good little fairies ♥ I'll see ya at Hobi's birthday! ♥ Enjoy!

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, bloodshed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, and old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

main masterlist 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐑

Winter 1995 You spotted Hoseok seated at the table, a serene picture of composure, his fingers curled around a steaming cup of coffee he enjoys in the mornings.

He looked up at your approach, his eyes locking onto yours. There was no trace of anger on his face, no sharp edge to his expression. If anything, he seemed calm, almost disarming.

"Hobi—" you started before he quickly interrupted you.

"Sit down," he said a bit more firmer than he'd want to, gesturing to the seat across from him.

You hesitated for a moment before lowering yourself into the chair, acutely aware of the weight of the moment. A plate of food sat before you, untouched. Your stomach churned, but the thought of eating felt impossible.

"Are you?—"

"I'm not mad, no," he cut you off gently, surprising you, as if he knew what you were suggesting before you even managed to let those words roll on your tongue.

"So?—" you echoed hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know what to expect now. Maybe it would be better if he'd be mad and you knew that you have to make it better just like it used to be, instead he is not showing any kind of position in this situation and that was making you uneasy beyond comparison.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply.

"You're still here. That's what matters to me for now." He began, his tone measured. For now. Hoseok was always skilled at this—at saying something that sounded kind but felt like a command.

"I panicked," you admitted softly, the honesty slipping out before you could stop it.

"I know, baby, you chose wrong—" he replied, his gaze unwavering.

"—twice," he added fuel to the fire, salt to the wound. But you knew why. He wanted you to submit to him, and he needed to work overtime to do so.

"You need to show me you're willing to make this right, love," you swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat making it nearly impossible to respond. His aura and magnitude of how he could move you however he liked now was overwhelming. You cannot run away, not when he dragged you back to this place instead of his brownstone at 57th street. You're not only under his surveillance here, but the Kkangpae and the rest of the family.

“What’s it gonna be? Cuz’ I can’t fucking pretend anymore–” 

His gaze dropped to the table for a moment before he reached into his pocket. You stiffened instinctively, already guessing what he was about to do. Sure enough, his hand emerged clutching the familiar black velvet box. The sight of it made your chest tighten.

"Hoseok," you said softly, your voice trembling with unease. "Please—"

"I don't think I will be so forgiving if you'll choose wrong for a third time, Princess." He ignored your plea, opening the box to reveal the ring again. The one you'd angrily thrown at him that fateful night when he tried to force it down your finger after you explicitly said no to him.

The one that symbolised everything you were not ready to accept, but you had to. It glimmered in the soft light of the room, deceptively beautiful.

"I'm done asking," he said firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. Your breath hitched, but before you could speak, Hoseok reached across the table and took your hand in his. His touch was warm, grounding, yet the weight of his action was suffocating.

You tried to pull your hand back, but his grip tightened—not painfully, but enough to make it clear you weren't going anywhere. With deliberate precision, he slid the emerald ring onto your finger.

"There," he said, his voice softening just enough to send a shiver down your spine. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You stared at the emerald ring, your mind racing. It looked almost serene on your finger, as if it had always belonged there. Hoseok sat back, satisfied, his lips curling into a faint smile.

Before you could respond, the soft thuds of certain leather shoes announced another arrival.

"Joon-ah!" Hoseok greeted, leaning back in his chair. "I assume there's news?"

Namjoon glanced at you briefly, then back to Hoseok. "Yes. We've made progress with the Anubis situation. The distilleries have been secured, but the reports of interference need attention."

"Anubis situation?" You echoed Namjoon's words. Hoseok's smile didn't falter, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanour. His gaze flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might dismiss your question. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his fingers interlacing.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a quiet finality that suggested the topic was closed.

Namjoon, however, wasn't as careful with his expression. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, a crack in the façade of calm efficiency he usually wore. It was gone as quickly as it came, but you caught it, and it only fuelled your curiosity.

"Anubis is my responsibility, Hoseok, you cannot—" you pressed, your tone sharper now. You'd learned long ago that brushing things under the rug only meant tripping over them later.

"Not anymore."

Hoseok's words cut through the room with an authority that left no room for argument. He leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of complete control, his eyes locked on yours with a quiet intensity.

"What?!" You breathed out rather loudly now.

"Not anymore," he repeated, slower this time as if daring you to challenge him. And challenge him you did.

"Hoseok," you tried again, your voice quieter this time, laced with both frustration and fear. "This isn't—"

"I gotta punish you somehow, Princess," his one was calm, almost casual, but the weight behind his words was anything but. Your stomach churned as his lips curved into a faint, disarming smile—a predator's smile hidden beneath a veil of warmth.

"Punish me?" you repeated, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to steady it. "Exactly for what you gotta punish me, Hoseok?

"For running," he said, the amusement in his voice doing little to soften the hurt he felt inside. "For throwing the ring. For abandoning me this morning after we made love last night—"

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off with a raised hand. "Don't misunderstand me, Princess. I'm not angry. But actions have consequences."

Your heart pounded against your ribs, the rhythm chaotic and uneven. His calm demeanour made it worse. It took one wide-eyed glance for Namjoon to excuse himself and quickly retreat to Kkangpae's office to leave you two alone.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind Namjoon seemed louder in the heavy silence that followed. Your eyes darted to it, half-hoping for an interruption, but it was futile. Hoseok's gaze was fixed on you, unrelenting and unreadable, trapping you in this moment.

"Hoseok," you began, your voice trembling. "This isn't fair. You can't just—"

"I can," he interrupted his tone steady but brooking no argument. "And I will. You know I don't take betrayal lightly."

"Betrayal?" you repeated, the word stinging as it left your lips. "Is that what you think this is? Hoseok, I—"

"You ran," he said simply, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. His fingers interlocked, creating a casual posture that only heightened your unease. "You left me, you threw the ring at me, you abandoned what we're building. Call it whatever you want, Princess, but to me? That's betrayal."

Your breath caught, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. "I needed time," you whispered. "Time to think, to—"

No, you needed Mark. But you also needed your best friend.

"Think?" Hoseok's laughter was soft, almost amused, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What is there to think about? You're mine. You've always been mine. And this?" He gestured to the ring now firmly on your finger. "This makes it only official."

"You can't force me to—" you said, the defiance in your voice surprising even you. This was never a discourse you or Hobi ever had. Everything was thought to be just platonic. Not for him.

"To what?" he asked, cutting you off again. His tone was low, dangerously calm. "To wear a ring? To stay by my side? To stop running every time things don't go the way you want?"

You flinched, the truth in his words hitting too close to home. Hoseok sighed, his expression softening just enough to make your heart ache. You were running each time you did not feel like the family was doing you justice. And each time it was Hoseok who came to talk sense into you. But this is different. You are not kids anymore, or teenagers. This is serious. Hoseok is serious this time.

"You know what Anubis means to me—"

"And you still thought it was something you could just walk away from?"

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as the urge to argue warred with the fear.

"I didn't walk away from Anubis," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I needed space, Hoseok."

"You said you were tired, love."

"You misunderstood—" Hoseok shook his head slowly, cutting you off once again, his gaze hardening.

"I never wanted it to come to this," Hoseok said, his voice softening as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. "But you forced my hand, Princess. And now, you don't get to run anymore. Not from me. Not from us."

"But Anubis—"

"It's still yours. But until you learn your place, Namjoon will suffice."

You bit your lip, caught between the suffocating desire to fight back but all you could do is shut your mouth and obey, telling yourself that this is only temporary.

He was, indeed, not mad.

.

.

.

.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟎𝟐.𝟏𝟖.𝟐𝟓

©pennyellee. please do not repost

tag list: if you want to be notified once the full story is up for reading, you can write in the comments and I'll create a tag list!

Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! ♥

lots of love, p.

[x-aefx]

Hey, I have a request if that's okay!

We comfort billie after the grammys :(

I seriously just want to give her the biggest hug ever. She deserves so much more.

NEEDING YOU - BILLIE EILISH X FEM!READER

A/N: sorry this took so long I was away skiing and had little time to even open this app. Hope you like it🤍

Fluff

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

You stared up at the stage, watching the presenters introduce the next award and nominees, anticipation nagged at you knowing how important this award was.

Billie watched too, doing her best to conceal her anxiousness. Her hand remained in your lap, seeking your touch as a source of comfort. You gave that comfort to her as best you could in this nerve wrecking moment, giving her hand light squeezes, caressing her knuckles with your fingers, and occasionally placing small kisses on the back of her hand.

The nominees were introduced, you smiled proudly when you seen Billie's picture on the stage.

When the moment finally came and the winner for album of the year was about to be announced, you gave Billie a gentle kiss on her cheek, knowing how nervous she must be. She smiled at your gesture, the anticipation clear on her face.

You both stared up at the stage, the crowd around you cheering and urging the winner to be revealed. Some held their breath and others looked confident.

"As selected by the thirteen thousand voting members of the recording academy, the Grammy goes to-"

Their was a pause as the crowd waited. You took a deep breath in, bringing the back of Billie's hand up to you mouth, and placing a gentle kiss on it.

"Cowboy Carter!"

Your heart dropped as the winner was announced and the room began cheering. All around you people began cheering, standing up and showing love. You began clapping too, knowing if you didn't show respect you would face backlash online.

You turned to face Billie. Her eyes were glossy with tears, there was no mistaking it. She had a small smile on her face as she tried to hide her disappointment as she clapped and watched Beyoncé walk onto the stage. You took her hand again and leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

"You'll always be a winner in my eyes. I'm so proud of you."

Billie turned to look at you with a grateful smile. It should have relieved you to see her smile, but you knew her too well, you could tell she was hurting you could see it in her eyes.

The smile you had fallen in love with wasn't quite as big, and her eyes that you thought were the most beautiful thing, weren't as bright.

Billie didn't say anything. Her eyes were trained on Beyoncé as she gave her acceptance speech, her music fading as she spoke. You didn't push Billie to speak further, knowing this wasn't the time or place, especially with cameras all around the room, ready to catch any glimpse of vulnerability or opposition to the winner.

When the award ceremony was over Billie had slowly come back to herself but still you could tell something was wrong, you waited for the perfect time to talk to her fully, until you found it you made sure to keep checking up on her throughout the Grammys after party.

You had found yourself talking with a few people, getting completely swept in a conversation, mostly about the people you had seen or what they were wearing.

"It's a vintage dress, only worn twice before." You listened as the woman in front of you talked, nodding along and sipping on your wine.

Suddenly you felt two arms wrapping themselves around your waist, then you inhaled the familiar vanilla scent and felt her body press up behind yours.

Billie remained quiet as she rested her chin against your shoulder. Her eyes slowly shut for a second as she swayed your body along with yours, she had a small frown on her face as she tightened her grip around you.

The lady I front of you stopped talking once she seen Billie, she took one glance and looked up at you knowingly. "I'll leave you two to it." She smiled.

You nodded at her, giving her a small 'goodbye'

"Home?" Billie mumbled once the woman had left. She seemed too tired or either too sad to say a full sentence.

You kissed her forehead as you interlocked your hand with her's. "Yeah, let's go home." You agreed, leading Billie to the suv that would take both of you home.

The car ride home was quiet and quick. Billie leaned her body against your side, her head resting on your shoulder as she looked out the window on your side, the streetlights shining against her face as the car passed them. You played with her hair, which calmed her down and relaxed her.

When you arrived home Billie stayed quiet, unlocking the front door and leading you upstairs to her bedroom which you shared. A small sigh left her as she sat down on the edge of her bed, her shoulders dropped as she stared up at the ceiling.

She suddenly looked far more defeated and sad then she had earlier. You supposed that was because finally she was in the comfort of her own home, free from camera's and watching eyes, finally not having to wear a mask over her true feelings.

Your heart sank as you took in her sad expression, hating to see it. You smiled sympathetically at her as you walked over to her. When you stood only a foot away from her, Billie rested her forehead against your stomach as she remained seated on the bed whilst you were standing. Your hands caressed the side of her neck and her cheek, offering her comfort in the small ways you could.

"I worked so hard on that album." Billie whispered against the fabric of your dress, her voice slightly breaking.

"I put my everything into it, the lyrics, the meaning, the cover, the production, the videos-" With each word Billie slowly began getting more frustrated, her voice raising.

Noticing this you put both your hands on her shoulders, pulling her body away from yours and making her look up at you.

"The award doesn't define the worth of the album." You reminded her.

Billie sighed rubbing her hands over her face. "I know, I know." She muttered, but you didn't believe it.

You sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, Billie turned to face you as you spoke.

"Remember how excited you were the day you got to make the album cover? How proud you felt when you seen the finished work?" You asked her. Billie just nodded her head.

You continued, "or when you couldn't stop laughing when your mom was in complete silence when you played 'lunch' for her the first three times? How everyone cried when they heard 'skinny', everyone's shocked faces when they heard the beat drop in 'l'amour de ma vie'? The excitement when people found out 'blue' was being released?"

Billie sniffled as she listened to, chuckling softly at the fond memories you talked about.

"Most importantly, how happy you felt when you finally were able to put your feelings into songs, exactly as you wanted them? The love your friends and family showed the album, the praise online and in real life. You can't forget all the people who related and felt seen by the songs, who danced and cried to them, just like you did. That's what matters."

Billie smiled up at you, her eyes teary as she leaned her forehead against yours.

"Billie you made the most special, creative and authentic album that you worked so hard on. No award could ever change its brilliance or reduce the effort you put into it." You spoke firmly to her, wanting to make sure she was hearing what you were saying and that she believed it.

Billie looked up at you with big, thankful and loving eyes. She sniffled and messily wiped away the tears staining her cheeks with her hands.

"You love the album right?" You asked her, "and your proud of it?"

Without hesitation, Billie nodded her head as a yes. You smiled at that.

"Well, that's all that matters." You muttered as you pressed a kiss to her lips. As you were pulling away Billie's hand found the nape of your neck. She pulled your face back to hers and connected your lips once more, this time for a longer and a more passionate kiss.

Her other hand gripped the side of your thigh firmly, not letting you move away from her.

You cupped her cheeks, your fingers dancing in patterns over her soft skin.

When you both pulled away for air, your foreheads rested against each other, faces dipped downwards as both your breathing was heavy. Billies hands found your waist and gave you a slight squeeze.

"Thank you for cheering me up." Billie whispered.

You smiled at her words, kissing the tip of her nose. "Anytime." You giggled.

At the sound of your laugh, Billie looked up at you with her familiar big and bright smile and something akin to mischief in her blue eyes.

"You tired?" She asked you with a smirk.

You shook your head no.

"Good." Billie said. She pushed you down onto the bed, her body ontop of you as you both laughed and giggled. The sadness that had previously filled the room quickly disappearing.

𖦹 ☼ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ♡

[receding-tides]

the clawbs.. and sharpness

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[cuubism]

this instagram reel made me think so strongly of a human AU viktor that I had to write a little ficlet about it

--

Normally, the fact that Jayce is such a light sleeper is a problem. Being easily awoken by any rain, wind, traffic, Cait traipsing in at midnight after going to see Vi, his own anxious thoughts--it's not beneficial to his sanity. Today, though. Today, he's grateful for it, because it means he wakes up at 4am when his phone buzzes with two Snap messages in quick succession.

Blearily, he opens the app, squinting against the bright light of the screen. There are really only two people in the world who send him snaps, and Cait is asleep in the other room of their shared apartment. Which means it's Viktor.

It takes him a second to even comprehend what he's seeing.

Viktor seems to be reclining in a hospital bed, shirt open over his bare chest which is covered with various wires stuck to the skin, an IV in the back of his hand and a heart monitor clipped to his finger. Despite all this, he's throwing up a peace sign with his free hand and the look he's giving the camera is downright sultry, his dark undereye circles almost giving the impression of a smoky eye.

I lived, bitch, the text over the photo says.

Jayce rapidly taps through to the next one.

Similar photo, but now the text reads, It's giving Consumption core, whatever the fuck that means.

It doesn't sound much like Viktor but hopefully that means someone's there with him, even if they're just taking photos instead of, you know, helping.

Nevertheless, Jayce vaults out of bed, pulling on the nearest clothes and grabbing his keys and-- because Viktor is sick or hurt or having a flare up or God knows what-- rushing out of his bedroom.

He's scrambling so much that he trips over the rug in the living room and goes down, hitting a side table with his shoulder and knocking the lamp on it onto the floor with a clatter. Fuck. He pushes himself to his feet again and--

The light in Cait's room goes on. Vi opens the door, rubbing her eyes. "What the fuck, man."

"Sorry," Jayce says, abandoning the fallen table in favor of shoving his feet into his shoes. "I gotta go, Viktor's in the hospital and--"

"What?" Cait emerges behind Vi. "Is he okay?"

"I think so? He sent me a snap so--"

Vi picks up Jayce's phone from where it's fallen to the floor and studies the picture. "Sounds like Jinx is with him." She tilts her head. "Kind of a good photo. Hot."

"Vi." Cait takes the phone and gives it back to Jayce. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, he wouldn't want everyone crowding." Viktor hadn't even specifically asked Jayce to come but like hell is he not going to. "I gotta-- I need to go--"

"Alright, be safe," Cait says, and Jayce is already rushing out the door.

While on the bus to the hospital, he texts Viktor directly. Are you okay??

The singularity is near, Jayce, Viktor writes back. I'm ever closer to transcending biology. I am composed of so many wires now; soon they will replace my veins entirely.

Jayce can't tell if the fact that he's typing in coherent sentences means he's okay or if the fact he's expounding on futurology at four in the morning from a hospital bed means he's not okay.

I like you not composed of wires, he replies.

Too late, Viktor says. I did try to explain to them that this is normal but they insisted on all of the wires.

Pretty sure it's not *normal*, Jayce says.

On the plus side, this hospital isn't stingy with the good drugs.

Jesus Christ. That explains the philosophizing.

Excuse you, I can do it perfectly well sober.

Should have brought you your Fuller novel the way people bring stuffed animals to the hospital. You could hold it for comfort while you fall asleep.

You are coming? says Viktor.

Yeah, Jayce says, of course I'm coming.

~

Technically, Jayce is Viktor's emergency contact, but there's still been issues getting in to see him in the past since Jayce is "not family." But apparently, Viktor had Jinx tell the hospital front staff that he was allowed in, because this time they direct him right to Viktor's room when he arrives.

Viktor is sitting up in bed when he gets there, indeed attached to a lot of wires, though a nurse is taking some of them off so they must have finished some tests. This is a different hospital bed, an actual room rather than the temporary ER situation he seemed to have been in in the photo before, which is not a good sign, though at least it hopefully means Viktor will be discouraged from leaving before its safe for him to do so.

The nurse passes Jayce in the doorway as she leaves, and Viktor turns to him, offering a wan smile. He looks tired, but then, he always looks tired lately.

Jinx is indeed there, perched on the end of the bed like a gargoyle. She waves at Jayce. "See, I told you my messages would get him to come."

"Some messages," Jayce says, sitting in the chair by Viktor's bed. Viktor looks at him curiously, and Jayce hands over his phone.

Viktor studies the snaps, and rubs his forehead tiredly. "Jinx, I asked you to text Jayce, not send hospital boudoir, or whatever this is." He peers closer at the messages. "Hm. They are good photos, though."

"Told ya."

"Viktor. Are you okay?" Jayce asks, pocketing his phone again. He takes Viktor's hand between both of his own, rubbing his knuckles.

"Just a flare up," Viktor says. Sure, Jayce thinks, 'just.' "Truthfully--do not gloat--I've been up too late and I got dehydrated, and I'm sure that exacerbated things."

"We were on a roll," Jinx complains. "There's no time for sleep when you're in the zone."

"Hm, until there suddenly is," Viktor says brightly. "I am okay, Jayce, truly."

"Alright. I was worried." And, carefully, he lifts Viktor's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

This thing between them--it's still new and tentative. More tentative from Jayce's end, really, he's always worried about mucking it up. But he tries to remind himself that nothing's really changed, they're still the same friends that they've always been. They just... do other stuff, too.

Well, and Jinx is now sending him photos of Viktor looking like the star of a vampire romance film.

"I'm going to get snacks," Jinx declares unsubtly, climbing off the bed and heading for the door.

"The vending machine has Taki's," Viktor calls helpfully as she leaves.

"How do you know that?" Jayce asks.

"I've been here before."

Of course.

Jayce sighs, pressing his forehead to their joined hands.

"You know," Viktor says, "if you were not able to bring me a book to cuddle. Am I allowed a you to cuddle?"

"I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

"Meh, rules," Viktor says, dismissively. "What will they do, kick me out?"

"Kick me out," Jayce says.

"They won't," Viktor says, with such certainty that Jayce somehow believes him.

So he climbs into the hospital bed beside Viktor, arranging him carefully around all the wires and connections. Viktor curls into his side, resting his head on Jayce's shoulder.

"Thank you for coming," Viktor murmurs.

"Of course." Jayce can't imagine not coming as soon as he got that message. Even if Viktor thinks it's all unremarkable and normal. Viktor being in pain is never not going to make him drop everything and run. Even if that means he has to do a hell of a lot of running.

"You know," Viktor says. "The future of disembodied cloud consciousness does have a shortcoming."

"Oh, yeah? Only one?"

Viktor tsks, poking his arm. "It occurs to me that without a body it would be difficult to appreciate my personal furnace here."

Jayce squeezes him tighter. "Maybe your future disembodied consciousness will just have to have a temperature sensor. Might as well give it a pressure sensor too... oh wait, I think we might be circling back around to a body..."

"Perhaps it is not all bad to have a body," Viktor sighs. "Only mostly."

"Only mostly," Jayce agrees, kissing the top of his head.

--

two books referenced obliquely in this:

The Singularity is Near by Ray Kurzweil

Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth by R Buckminster Fuller

I think Viktor would be into them.

[bitchinbarzal]

Misunderstood | B Faber

summary: you guys haven’t made it official and it comes back to bite brock when he is pictured out at dinner with a friend.

-

The cold Minnesota air nipped at your skin as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, sitting on your couch with a cup of coffee in hand. The warmth of your apartment contrasted the harsh chill outside, the streets dusted in fresh snow. The quiet morning should have been comforting, but instead, you found yourself scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, the flickering glow of your phone screen somehow amplifying the restlessness gnawing at your mind.

Then, you saw it.

Your thumb froze on the screen as you stared at the image before you. Brock. Your boyfriend—or at least, that’s what you thought he was.

He stood at a table, smiling like he always did, the one you adored and couldn’t get enough of. But this time, it wasn’t just his grin that caught your attention. Standing next to him was a woman—blonde, beautiful, and clearly too comfortable with him. She had her hand resting on his arm, a look of fondness that made your stomach twist. The caption read: “Dinner date with my favorite guy.”

The words blurred in your vision as you stared at the picture, trying to make sense of it. You blinked, trying to calm the rising panic inside you. Your fingers swiped quickly to refresh the feed, hoping this was some kind of mistake, some social media glitch. But no, there were more photos—more pictures of Brock and this girl, the two of them enjoying dinners, laughing at something only they seemed to understand, posing close in a way you hadn’t even been able to get Brock to do with you.

And suddenly, all the confidence you had in the relationship seemed to disappear. Why hadn’t he told you about her? You scrolled through the rest of the posts, each one more intimate than the last. It hit you in waves—the jealousy, the confusion, the bitter taste of betrayal. You had always kept things casual with Brock, no pressure, no expectations. But these pictures… They didn’t look casual. Did he think you were just another option?

A pang of hurt ran through you. Had you been nothing more than a placeholder while he figured out what he really wanted?

You set your phone down, hands shaking slightly. You tried to calm yourself. It could be nothing, right? But then the doubts crept in, taking over your thoughts like an uncontrollable storm. Maybe this wasn’t a casual thing for him after all. Maybe he was just too scared to tell you. You were only ever a backup plan, an afterthought. That’s how it felt. You had no idea where you stood in his life, and that was the worst feeling of all.

The next few days were nothing short of torturous.

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond to his texts. He’d sent a few asking how you were, if you were okay, but each time you read his messages, all you could feel was the knot of jealousy and confusion tightening in your chest. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that you had no right to be angry. You had never set any official boundaries, and he had never made any promises to you.

But it didn’t stop the gnawing feeling inside.

When he called you on the second night of the silence, you debated not answering. But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it ring out. “Hello?” you said, your voice more clipped than you intended.

“Hey, it’s me. You’ve been quiet. Is everything okay?” Brock’s voice came through the phone, sounding concerned but also confused.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” You could feel your chest tightening as the words felt like lies in your mouth.

“Are you sure? You’ve been distant. I just want to know if something’s wrong.”

The frustration hit you suddenly, and it slipped out before you could stop it. “What, you want me to just pretend everything’s fine? Pretend like I don’t see all those photos of you and her?” The words were out before you could catch them, and the silence that followed was deafening.

“Wait, what?” Brock’s voice cracked slightly “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” you spat. “I’ve seen it, Brock. All the pictures. All the dates. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Your voice trembled now, the anger laced with hurt.

There was a long pause, and you could almost hear him processing what you were saying. Then, a sigh. “Listen, I didn’t think it was a big deal. She’s just a friend. She’s one of my teammate’s sisters. We’ve hung out a few times with the team, but there’s nothing going on. I swear.”

But the doubt lingered in your mind. “You didn’t think it was a big deal? You didn’t think it was a big deal to mention that you were hanging out with another girl? That’s what you’re telling me?” You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears now. The more he explained, the more it sounded like an excuse. And the more it hurt.

“I didn’t think it would bother you” Brock added quietly. “I thought we were just…having fun, you know? I didn’t think it would cause any issues.”

“Well, it’s causing issues now,” you snapped, cutting the conversation short. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Brock. I just need space.”

And with that, you hung up, not giving him the chance to say anything more. The silence after you ended the call was suffocating. You hated that you had let your emotions spiral like this, but the damage felt done. Your heart was heavy with bitterness, and no amount of reasoning could make it feel right again.

Days passed, and the tension only grew. Brock tried to reach out—texts, calls—but you ignored them all. You felt justified in your anger, but the truth was, the silence was killing you both. Each time you saw his name pop up on your phone, your heart wavered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open the messages. You had decided that if he cared, he’d come to you. He’d fix this.

But it didn’t happen. Not the way you expected, at least.

Instead, you found yourself standing in your apartment on the fourth day, staring at the door as if it might be a dream.

The sound of soft knocks broke through your thoughts. You slowly opened the door, almost dreading what you might find on the other side. But when you looked up, it was Brock—holding a bouquet of wildflowers, his face a mix of anxiety and determination.

You stared at him for a moment before the anger bubbled up again. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

“Can we talk?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading. “I know I messed up. I should’ve told you about her, but I never meant for any of this to happen. I care about you. I don’t want this to end because of a misunderstanding.”

Your breath hitched, emotions swirling inside you like a tornado. “You should’ve told me” you whispered, the hurt creeping into your voice. “I saw those pictures, Brock. I felt like you were hiding something from me. And I—” You broke off, looking away, your face flushing with embarrassment.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Brock said, stepping closer, his voice full of regret “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. She’s just a friend—nothing more. You mean everything to me.”

You shook your head, trying to hold back the tears. “I shouldn’t have ignored you. I should’ve trusted you, but I didn’t know where I stood.”

Brock reached out for you, taking your hands gently in his. “I should’ve explained sooner. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel second to anyone, especially not because of some misunderstanding.”

His apology, the sincerity in his eyes, hit you harder than you expected. Your walls started to crumble, and with them, the weight that had been pressing on your chest.

“I’m sorry, too,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Brock’s smile was hesitant but warm. He pulled you into an embrace, holding you tight. “Let’s promise no more misunderstandings, okay? I want this,us,to be real.”

You nodded, feeling the tension dissolve. “No more misunderstandings,” you repeated.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Lost Time

You didn’t mean to forget.

It was just that life had been moving at a relentless pace—school drop-offs, doctor’s appointments, laundry piles that never seemed to shrink, and the constant whirlwind of raising kids. By the time you had a moment to sit down and breathe, the day was already slipping away, and there was always something else to do.

And then, the realization hit you like a gut punch.

You were supposed to be on a plane.

Your stomach dropped as you stared at the time on your phone. Your flight to LA had taken off an hour ago. The trip to visit Marshall for the weekend—just the two of you—was something you had both been looking forward to for weeks. It was rare, getting time alone together, and now you had completely missed it.

Your hands shook as you picked up your phone, heart pounding as you scrolled to his name and hit call. It rang twice before he picked up.

“Hey, baby.” His voice was warm, but you could hear the exhaustion behind it. “You landed okay?”

You swallowed hard, pressing your fingers against your forehead. “Marshall…”

Something in your tone must have told him everything he needed to know, because there was a pause.

“…What happened?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “I—I forgot,” you admitted, voice thick with guilt. “I missed my flight.”

Another silence stretched between you. The disappointment was palpable, even through the phone.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and it made your stomach twist even more.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t even have a good excuse. I just—everything’s been so crazy with the kids and running around, and I lost track of time. I didn’t even realize until just now.”

Marshall let out a slow exhale, and you could picture him rubbing his hand down his face the way he always did when he was frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “Damn, baby,” he finally said, voice softer now. “I was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “I know, I was too.”

You could hear the hurt in his voice, and it broke you. Marshall never asked for much—he understood how busy life got, how much the kids needed you, but this was supposed to be your time. And now you had let him down.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You could try and get another flight tomorrow,” he suggested, but you already knew it wasn’t that simple.

“Marshall… I don’t think I can. The kids—”

“I know,” he cut in, but there was no anger in his tone, just understanding. And maybe that made it even worse.

You closed your eyes, willing the lump in your throat to disappear. “I feel awful.”

“I know you do,” he said, quieter this time. “But I get it, babe. You got a million things on your plate.”

You wiped at your face, hating that you were tearing up. “I just—I don’t want you to think I don’t care. Or that I don’t want to be there.”

“Never,” he said immediately, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. “You do everything for us, for the kids. I know you love me. I know you wanted to come.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I really did.”

Marshall was quiet for a beat. Then, he sighed. “I miss you, though.”

The admission made your chest ache. “I miss you too,” you whispered.

There was another pause, then his voice turned a little softer, a little playful. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“You owe me.”

Despite the guilt still hanging over you, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “Oh, do I?”

“Hell yeah,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Big time. I want a whole weekend when I get back. No interruptions, no running around—just me and you.”

You exhaled, already nodding. “Deal.”

“Good.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sitting in the quiet together. Even from miles away, he still had a way of making you feel grounded.

“I’ll call you later?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Get some rest, baby. You work too damn hard.”

You smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the call ended, you sat there for a moment, still kicking yourself for forgetting. But if there was one thing you knew about Marshall, it was that he’d always understand. And you’d make it up to him—one way or another.

---

The guilt still sat heavy in your chest, even after Marshall reassured you he understood. Missing your flight wasn’t just about forgetting a plan—it was about forgetting him, even if just for a moment. And you never wanted him to feel like an afterthought.

So, you were going to fix it.

The kids were finally asleep, the house was quiet, and after staring at your phone for a few minutes, you decided you weren’t just going to wait until he got back. You could still make the weekend about him.

You called him.

It rang twice before he picked up, his voice groggy. “Babe?”

“Hey,” you whispered, biting your lip. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he exhaled, and you could hear him shifting. “I was just laying here. What’s up?”

You hesitated for half a second before deciding to just go for it. “I wanted to make it up to you.”

Marshall chuckled, low and rough. “Oh yeah? How you gonna do that from a thousand miles away?”

You grinned, settling back against your pillows. “I have a few ideas.”

Silence. Then—“Shit.” His voice was lower now, already catching on. “You tryna kill me, woman?”

“Maybe,” you teased, running your fingers lightly over your bare skin. “You said I owe you. Figured I should start paying up.”

Marshall groaned, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “You got my full attention, baby.”

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a text from him.

Marshall: Damn. Now I really can’t wait to get home.

You smirked, typing back.

You: Told you I’d make it up to you.

A second later, another text popped up.

Marshall: Oh, you’re not off the hook yet. I’m making you pay up in person.

You bit your lip, already feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

You: I’m counting on it.

---

The second you saw the flight tracker update, confirming Marshall was on his way home, you sprang into action.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love having the kids around—you did. But after missing your weekend together, you owed him something uninterrupted. No little voices calling for you, no last-minute homework emergencies, no laundry, no distractions. Just you and him.

So, you started making arrangements.

By early Friday evening, the house was quiet. Your daughters were off at their friends’ houses, giggling about sleepovers and promising to text if they needed anything. You stood at the door after drop-offs, staring into the empty house, nerves buzzing in anticipation.

This was actually happening.

It had been so long since you and Marshall had a weekend to yourselves. Between parenting, his career, and the never-ending responsibilities of life, time together had been sacrificed more than either of you liked. But now, for the next two days, he was yours.

And you were not going to waste it.

You sent him a text as you walked through the quiet house, already thinking about what to wear, what to do, how to make this weekend one he wouldn’t forget.

You: House is empty. Just me waiting on you.

A moment later, your phone buzzed.

Marshall: That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Plane just landed. Be home soon.

You smiled, your heart hammering in your chest.

Time to welcome him home properly.

~~~

You were practically pacing by the time you heard the front door open.

Marshall barely had a second to step inside before you were on him, arms wrapping around his neck, pressing yourself against him. His duffel bag hit the floor with a thud as his arms instantly circled your waist, holding you close.

“Damn,” he murmured, burying his face against your neck. “Missed you too, huh?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head so he could press his lips against your skin. “So much.”

His hands tightened around you, like he didn’t want to let go. “Thought about you all weekend,” he admitted. “Then you go and tell me the house is empty? You tryna kill me, baby?”

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You said I owe you, right?”

His blue eyes darkened, hands sliding lower on your waist. “Damn right you do.”

You bit your lip, grabbing his hoodie and tugging him toward the bedroom.

“Then let me start paying up.”

---

The second the bedroom door shut, Marshall wasted no time. His hands were on you before you could even take another step, pulling you flush against him, his body heat searing through his hoodie and jeans.

“You really sent the kids away for the whole weekend?” he murmured, his breath warm against your jaw as he pressed lazy kisses along your skin.

You hummed, sliding your hands under his hoodie, fingertips tracing over his stomach. “Mmhmm. No distractions. No interruptions. Just you and me.”

Marshall let out a low groan, gripping your hips. “You tryna make me fall even more in love with you or what?”

You grinned, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, then suddenly, his hands were on your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, dropping you down onto the mattress before climbing over you, caging you in.

“You don’t know how bad I needed this,” he admitted, his voice rough, his eyes locked on yours. “Needed you.”

Your fingers tangled in the front of his hoodie, pulling him down until your lips brushed against his. “Then take what you need.”

And he did.

~~~

Hours later, you lay tangled together in the sheets, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy circles along your back, his touch light, comforting.

“I should’ve just flown home early,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “Screw LA. This is where I wanna be.”

You smiled sleepily, pressing a kiss against his skin. “Well, you’re here now.”

He sighed, squeezing you closer. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow so you could look at him. “Promise?”

He cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing over your skin as his eyes softened. “Swear on everything.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss.

For the first time in weeks, there were no schedules to keep, no places to be. Just you and him, making up for lost time.

---

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred slightly, shifting against the warmth wrapped around you, only to feel Marshall tighten his grip. His arms were locked around your waist, his face buried in your hair, his breaths slow and steady against your skin.

"Mm-mm," he murmured, voice thick with sleep. "Not movin' yet."

You smiled, stretching slightly before settling back against him. "Not even to eat?"

Marshall let out a groggy sigh, but instead of answering, he kissed the top of your shoulder, his lips lazy and warm. "M’too comfortable," he admitted. "Stay a little longer."

You turned in his arms, brushing his messy hair back from his face. He looked softer like this—sleepy, relaxed, the weight of the world momentarily lifted.

"You wanna take a bath?" you offered, running your fingers lightly over his jaw. "Then I’ll let you go back to being a human blanket."

His eyes cracked open just enough to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, alright," he muttered. "Long as I don’t gotta do any work."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Just sit there and be pretty, babe."

He chuckled, stretching before finally releasing you from his grip, letting you drag him out of bed.

~~~

The hot water soothed your sore muscles, but the real comfort was the way Marshall held you. He sat behind you in the oversized tub, his arms wrapped around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. His fingers traced light patterns along your stomach as the steam curled around both of you.

"Could stay like this forever," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your neck.

You smiled, tilting your head back slightly against his chest. "We kinda have to eat at some point."

Marshall huffed, but reached for his phone resting on the edge of the tub. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

"You say that now, but if I order somethin’ weird, you’re gonna give me that look," he teased.

You turned your head to glance at him. "What look?"

"The ‘Marshall, what the hell is this?’ look," he mimicked in a higher-pitched voice, making you laugh.

"Just order, dork," you said, nudging him.

He smirked, placing the order before setting his phone aside. "Done. Now stop distracting me, I’m tryna relax."

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you loved how soft he was being. He wasn’t always like this—he had his tough exterior, his walls, the weight of his career always hanging over him. But with you, in moments like this, he let himself just be.

And you cherished every second of it.

~~~

By lunchtime, the food had long since been eaten, and you were curled up together in bed, mindlessly watching something on TV. But as you looked over at Marshall, you could tell his mind was elsewhere. His brows were drawn slightly, his jaw tense, fingers absently tapping against his stomach.

You reached over, running your hand along his arm. "What’s on your mind?"

He exhaled sharply, his fingers stilling. "I dunno," he muttered. "Just… been thinkin’."

"About what?"

His eyes flickered toward you before he sighed. "Does it make me a bad dad that I needed this? Like, two weeks away from the kids, and instead of gettin’ home and spendin’ time with them right away, I just—" He gestured vaguely between you two. "I just wanted this. You."

You frowned, sitting up slightly. "Marshall—"

"Nah, I mean, I love them more than anything, you know that," he said quickly. "Just… what kinda dad dips out for two weeks, then sends them away for the weekend soon as he gets back?"

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "The kind of dad who also needs to take care of his relationship," you said softly. "The kind of dad who gives everything to his kids, but also deserves time for himself. And with me."

Marshall exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "I just don’t ever want them to feel like I’m not there enough."

"You are there," you assured him. "And they adore you. But you can’t pour from an empty cup, babe. We needed this time, too. You needed it."

He let out a slow breath, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you’re right."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You’re an amazing dad, Marshall. The girls know it, I know it. And this weekend doesn’t change that."

He gave a small, grateful smile, tugging you closer. "Love you," he murmured against your hair.

"Love you too," you whispered.

And as he held you tighter, you could feel the tension finally start to melt away.

---

The weekend had been everything you and Marshall needed—slow, intimate, and uninterrupted. But as Sunday afternoon rolled around, reality crept back in.

You were curled up on the couch together, your head resting on his chest while he mindlessly ran his fingers through your hair. The TV was on, but neither of you were really paying attention.

Marshall sighed, his grip tightening around you. “Guess we should probably get the kids soon, huh?”

You hummed, tracing light circles on his stomach. “Probably.”

Neither of you moved.

Marshall let out a low chuckle. “We’re terrible.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to look at him. “Or maybe we just really needed this.”

His blue eyes softened as he brushed a thumb over your cheek. “Yeah… we did.”

You leaned into his touch, savoring the last few moments of quiet before everything picked up again. “But we should go before they start thinking we abandoned them.”

Marshall sighed dramatically, shifting under you. “Fine. But only ‘cause I don’t want them tellin’ their friends their dad ditched ‘em for their mom.”

You laughed, pushing yourself up. “C’mon, let’s go get our babies.”

~~~

The drive was filled with comfortable conversation, Marshall tapping along to the beat of a song playing low on the radio.

“You think they missed us?” he asked as he pulled into the driveway of your oldest’s friend’s house.

You smirked. “I think they missed you more. You’re the fun parent.”

He scoffed, throwing the car in park. “Nah, they just like me ‘cause I let ‘em stay up too late.”

You laughed, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Exactly.”

The front door swung open before either of you could get out, and your daughter came sprinting toward the car.

“DADDY!”

Marshall barely had time to react before she jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him.

“Damn, girl,” he grunted, catching her with ease. “You act like I was gone for a year.”

She giggled, squeezing his neck. “Two weeks is a long time!”

You watched as his entire face softened, his arms holding her tight against him. That doubt he had earlier about needing time with you? Gone. Because no matter what, your girls knew he loved them.

And as your other daughter came running from the house, yelling “Daddy!” just as loud, you knew there was no place he’d rather be.

---

The house was filled with warmth, laughter, and the soft hum of a movie playing in the background. The four of you were curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets, limbs tangled together as you soaked in the simple joy of being close.

Marshall sat in the middle, your youngest daughter curled up against his chest, her tiny fingers clutching onto his hoodie like she was afraid he might disappear again. Your oldest was tucked under his other arm, her head resting against his side. And you? You were right next to him, your legs draped over his as he absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh with his fingertips.

“This is the best night ever,” your youngest mumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into her dad’s chest.

Marshall smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, baby?”

She nodded against him. “Mhm. I like when we’re all together like this.”

You glanced at him, and the way his eyes softened made your heart clench. He had spent so much time worrying about being away, about taking time for himself and for you. But right now, in this moment, it was obvious—he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Me too, baby,” he murmured, holding her a little closer.

Your oldest yawned, shifting to get more comfortable against him. “Can we do this every night?”

Marshall let out a soft chuckle. “If it means I get to cuddle with my girls? Hell yeah.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “Guess that means we’re never leaving this couch.”

He turned his head to press a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a beat longer than necessary. “Sounds perfect to me.”

The movie played on, but none of you were really watching anymore. The girls slowly started drifting off, their soft breaths mixing with the low hum of the TV.

Marshall exhaled, his arm tightening around you. “This,” he murmured, voice low, like he didn’t want to wake them. “This is all I ever need.”

You looked up at him, your heart full. “Me too.”

And as you sat there, wrapped in the warmth of your little family, you knew—there was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

[strawberrybunnystuff]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭🥛

TW: This content includes sexual content; mention of pregnancy; aimed at the majoritu public;

Leland Coyle

Be aware that Leland in your relationship will always see you as his sole property! So when the urge to "procreate" comes to him, he would use it as the ULTIMATE way to mark you as his FOREVER.

Leland would hold your waist tightly, bringing your body until your back touches his body.

You feel something very hard against your body.

"You really want me to fill you up, huh? I'm going to make you mine for real."

Leland would trap you in any obstacle that gave him access to fuck your sweet hole. His expression would become even more dominant than usual, his fast pace always focused. He wouldn't accept any failure now. With the possible thought of your procreation going wrong, Leland would make sure to fuck you many more times in the same night until he was sure he managed to fill your uterus enough.

Leland will make sure not to let you expel any drops.

After the act, Leland would be kinder to you and your body. Treating you with care and aftercare. As the days went by, Leland would become even more of a stalker with you, always looking at your belly in hopes that it would grow at least a little each day.

Mother Gooseberry

Mommy Gooseberry already has her maternal extinct above normal with you but deep down she still has a little bit of insecurity in her head about you leaving at any moment. Then the desire for "procreation" falls like something perfect sent perfectly to her.

Creating a new life with you, a perfect life that would unite your lives forever, makes her very restless.

Gooseberry suddenly grabs your face, bringing his piercing, desire-filled eyes over yours, so confused.

"Let's make a perfect baby, my little sheep...a ​​perfect child, created just for us to love."

Gooseberry would be sweet and protective during the act, always making sure nothing hurt you and that you were feeling okay. She would whisper soothing, sweet words in your ear while she stuck her big wet fingers in your hole.

After finishing the act, Gooseberry would stay with you taking care of everything you need and want. Throughout the days, she would kneel next to her belly while singing nursery rhymes to her future perfect child.

Franco Barbi

Franco doesn't see your desire for "procreation" as something just to generate life or tie you to him, Fraco sees himself as a living art and you being his blank canvas ready for him to paint a beautiful work of art on you.

Franco would be more casual and practical in choosing to do his artistic work in a bed with doors tightly closed. It would be a fucking magnificent spectacle for him. He would have so much fun fucking his cock deep into you, murmuring charming words mixed with a hint of fun.

"We are not just fucking, my muse...we are creating something unique and eternal."

Franco would repeat his breeding ritual every night for at least a few weeks until he was sure that his beautiful aura had finally found its way to her sweet womb.

When you finally get pregnant, Franco would be obsessed. Painting lots and lots of pictures about you and your future baby.

The Night Hunter

Night Hunter already has a certain wild and animalistic entitlement, so when the desire to "procreate" arises in his distorted mind, there will be nothing left in his head other than to fill his loved one in the most brutal and primitive way.

Night Hunter wouldn't say anything about his desire and wouldn't even say when he intended to catch you. One moment he would appear behind you and minutes later your poor body would be pressed hard against some cold ground while that damn wild cock was pounding hard from behind you. Night Hunter would make sure to hold your neck with his hand making you look straight at him as he fucks you.

After the act, he would become extremely territorial with you, warding off any type of danger.

Dr. Esterman

Like the others, Esterman does not see his way of "procreating" as a simple desire, deep down he plans everything before it even happens, he will transform his carnal desire into an experiment to be studied.

Esterman would leave everything prepared, from the chosen location to what he would use in the process. Esterman plans to record every second of his facial and bodily reactions then he will watch it all again over and over again as he writes his notes. During the act, Esterman will say phrases and words to further stimulate your reactions.

"Look at your body, it was made for this...to generate something greater and I want to see each stage of that transformation."

After the act, Esterman took care of you but only because of her unhealthy desire to study the stages of your pregnancy. When changes finally begin to occur, Esterman will test you daily, treating you like a living study.

[skeleton-beneath-this-skin]

Takeshi Nakazato, but make him a ✨ plushie ✨

I haven’t posted art in a while, but I promise I’m still madly in love with Takeshi lol! I learned embroidery just to make his little face! Fingers crossed I can make the rest of him now…

And thank you to my lovely friend @fadefromthelight!She made adorable plushies of Wataru and Nobuhiko and I couldn’t have done this without her help!

[sodacowboy]

I think it’s fun that my rings make my hands look more masculine

[cute-sucker]

your daughter hates it with her dad, satoru gojo, covers his eyes with his blindfold, crying out for him to show him his eyes. satoru just can't help but laugh at her small cries, shoving her tiny fingers in his face trying to pull off his blind. it's become a small game for her now. she doesn't understand that daddy needs his blindfold.

whenever he comes in, she wobbles over to the door, right behind you. her shy face is hiding in your white skirt. you're smiling at satoru who gives you a soft peck on the lips.

"nice to see you my dear wife," he muses, and then kneels down to look at his daughter. she's shrieking with excitement now, knowing whats to come. satoru laughs at her sudden excitement, reaching to tickle her sides.

"show me, strange man! show me your eyes!" she yells, hitting him with her paper fan. he mock winces, holding his arms as if he had gotten hurt.

"ouch! such a mighty warrior..." he mutters, and you bite your lip to stop yourself form beaming. the two of them are adorable together, and you watch your daughter giggle, her sulky pout gone in seconds.

she's still reaching for her, tiny hands swatting him away, "this is not daddy. daddy has pretty eyes."

satoru groans, "fine, fine," and then he uncovers his bind to smile at her, "happy now?"

"daddy!" she screams, jumping onto his lap, "i knew it was you!"

satoru rubs her back before looking back at you snapping a picture, "since when did she get so demanding?"

you roll your eyes, biting your lip as you try not to laugh, "she's your daughter."

and then he grins in that endearing manner before proudly looking at the fiesty girl in his arms. then he winks at you, pretty blue eyes sparkling, "damn right she is."

[bunnis-monsters]

Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[g-k444]

Idea: use body paint to paint on a bikini for me before we go to the beach

watch as heads turn at my tits that bounce just a little too freely, and my pussy lips which are shown with every step where my legs part and the little pink slit is revealed a bit more

someone comes over with a mate and points out that im not wearing anything and that they could call the police on me for public indecency. but the stubborn brat i am - i cross my arms over my plump chest and say that they can't prove that im not wearing a bikini.

they take that as a challenge.

they lunge for me, wrestling me down onto the sand and pinning down my struggling and flailing body as i try to fight them off of me, though my nipples pique with a wanton neediness for the way that they assert their strength over my weakness, forcing my forearms down into the ground and pushing my thighs down so that i cannot kick them

the main one who initially pointed out my lack of clothing has his hands on my thighs - and uses them to split my legs apart, parting the orange paint and revealing the pink folds of my pussy.

"How's that for no bikini? Look at this."

I can feel tears welling to my eyes as i hear a gasp, and open my eyes to see passerbys looking - some even stopping their walk to watch as the stranger between my legs opens my fold with two fingers and reveals my slick and wet hole that leaks with cum from just this morning

"What a slut, freshly creampied and already walking around begging for more.."

"Hey, can i take a picture of that?"

the question wasn't addressed for me, and I fought to cover my exposed pussy with my hands as I watched someone level their phone so that it was level with my private parts - but the other man had my forearms pinned down into the sand, and I could only struggle against his unyielding grip as I watched the phone's flash go off, and they took a picture of my drippy pussy against my will

"She has a great pair of tits, look at them shake when she struggles!"

"They really are something..."

the crowd around me looked at me like a museum artefact. they didnt care for my struggle or desperate cries as I begged the two men to get off of me. Nor my scream as I felt something enter my pussy - and looking down I saw the man between my with his jeans undone and cock sheathed into my body.

"That damn bikini top isn't real either, is it?"

the stranger spat onto my chest, a saliva dripping down the side of my boob before his fingers collected the fluid and rubbed the coldness over my hardened nipple, making a cry leave my throat as how merciless he was with how his hardened fingertip rubbed at my nipple as though he was trying to rub a marker pen stain - flicking my nipple from side to side and only making more blood rush to the erogenous organ that hurt from his touch

"It's paint as well!"

He spat once more, this time allowing it to land onto my face, before i felt a cock slap against my cheek and rub that saliva degradingly pver my lip, following the trace of the cock - belonging to the man who had my forearms pinned into the ground

he held both of my arms down with one hand, his other hand then wrapping around his cock and pumping it into his fist with that one hand, only slapping it onto my face every so often to hear that skin-on-skin plap that made him groan.

the sun was going down.

the day was darkening and the crowd surrounding us was only getting bigger, and through tears and screams i could see more and more hands beneath waistbands and cocks freed at the sight of such a young, vulnerable girl being pinned down and forcefucked.

which meant that even after i'd survived that assault, being fucked and humiliated by some douche and his mate - having on cum all over my tits whilst the other replenished my pussy for cum...

there was a lot more men that were going to have their way with me before i could get out of this beach and back to safety...

reminder to send rape threats and brutal messages of what you'd do to me in my inbox or messages <3

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author

@libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee @lifeisadumpie @guacam011y @kurooandkenmasslut @callmemirro @your-sleeparalysisdem0n

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize

check out my buy me a coffee!

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[littlelamy]

you were right!

a/n: okay, i know you guys might be tired of me doing these but this is my last one! i hope you all like it 😜 gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs

The blazing Moroccan sun beats down on Rafe, its intensity mirrored by the firestorm raging in his mind. Dust hangs in the air around him, adding to the harshness of the moment as he stands over the well. Below, Groff coughs and groans, his face contorted in pain, but Rafe barely spares him a second glance. His rage overpowers everything else, even the satisfaction he should feel. He narrows his eyes, voice laced with anger and finality.

“Checkmate, bitch!” he yells down, his words slicing through the hot, tense air. The motorcycle engine he’d used to get out here sits idle a few feet away, rumbling like his frustration.

He turns on his heel, muttering a curse, fists clenched. As he stalks away from the well, he pulls out his phone and dials Sofia’s number, his chest tight with the realization that everything he thought he knew was a lie.

Sofia answers after two rings, her voice as casual as if he hadn’t just found out about her betrayal. “Hey, babe, what’s up ?”

Rafe’s voice is steely, cold. “Is it true? Is it true, what Groff just told me? Is it?”

The silence on her end is all he needs. He can practically hear her scrambling for words, but she never manages to answer. His face twists in anger.

“Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” he snarls, a final, unforgiving edge in his voice. “God, after everything I did for you? We’re done. Done.” He hangs up before she can say another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket with a bitter scoff. Betrayed, twice over—and he’d ignored the only person who saw it coming.

He stands there, baking in the Moroccan heat, his mind racing back to a month ago in Kildare, when you and he had argued over Sofia. You’d warned him that she wasn’t who she seemed. He’d brushed you off, accusing you of jealousy—knowing damn well that there was more to it. You were his best friend, but it was complicated; that line had already been crossed too many times, with late-night kisses and tangled sheets. But you two hadn’t spoken since that fight, since the way he’d brushed you off had hurt deeper than either of you cared to admit.

Taking a breath, he pulls out his phone again, fingers hovering over your name. He hesitates, swallowing his pride, before finally pressing call.

The phone rings, and you pick up after a few moments, your voice tight with annoyance. “What, Rafe?”

Your tone makes him pause, but the way you sound almost comforts him, even with the irritation clear in your voice. You’re there—back in Kildare, probably sitting cozy in your little apartment. Meanwhile, he’s out here under the scorching sun, alone, trying to piece together his pride.

He clears his throat. “Hey… princess,” he says, voice softened, the pet name slipping out before he can stop it. He can almost feel you rolling your eyes on the other end, but he presses on, the words weighing heavy on him. “I—uh… Look, I’m sorry. You were right.”

There’s a surprised pause, and he hears you shift in your seat as if you’re debating whether to hang up or let him speak. When you do answer, your tone is a bit softer, cautious.

“What happened?”

Rafe lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Turns out Sofia was exactly who you said she was. A snake. And here I was, thinking you were just being… petty. But I guess I’m the idiot, huh?”

You breathe out, and he can picture you shaking your head, lips pressed together. “You wouldn’t listen,” you say quietly, as if the words hold more hurt than anger.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in his voice. “I know. I was so damn sure you were just jealous. I mean—” He pauses, grappling with how to say it. “Hell, I thought you were jealous because you… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want me with her because we…” His voice trails off, but the implication lingers between you.

“Yeah,” you say softly, almost to yourself. “I get it.”

Rafe bites his lip, letting the words sink in. “Can I see you? I’m done here in a few days, and I could be back in Kildare very soon. I could stop by, explain… properly.”

A beat passes, and when you finally speak, it’s careful, guarded. “After everything you said last time, why should I?”

He laughs softly, almost self-deprecating. “Because I think you might be the only person I can trust right now. And… I miss you.” His voice drops, laced with a warmth he can’t help. “Even if you’re just going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

You chuckle, and he smiles, savoring the sound. “I don’t know if I miss you or if I just feel sorry for you,” you tease, but the playfulness is back in your tone, if only faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, amusement lacing his words. “Act like you don’t care. But come on, you miss me. Admit it.”

A small silence follows, and he imagines the way your lips twitch into a smile. Finally, you relent. “Maybe a little. But you’re bringing wine. Good wine.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he says, the flirtation back in his voice. “Only the best for you.”

You scoff, but he hears the hint of a laugh. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a good moment in a long time. He takes a breath, savoring the thought of leaving this mess behind and getting back to Kildare—back to the only person who knew him well enough to call him out, and care anyway. As the call ends, he puts his phone in his pocket, a grin spreading across his face, motivating him to get that crown and go to his princess.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif