#save me bonus chapter

[ssruis]

I will say that the benefit of my tsukasa card hoard is that my bonus for his chapter will be like… 540% minimum. Which sounds like a lot but tsukasa fans are fucking insane and I still think I’ll have to grind for anything under 1000th place. Maybe I *should* mr2 his new year lim.

[londonhalcyon]

Sometimes in a fit of madness impatience I’ll write a scene from way later on in one of my fics—sometimes close to the end—and it’s always like:

This is a masterpiece. One of the best things I’ve ever written. A perfect culmination of everything I want to achieve and…aaannd it’s filled with spoilers. I can’t share this with anybody. It will never see the light of day for years. Fuck.

Anyway, I’m not quietly going insane tonight at all, why do you ask?

[eulaties]

you know guys its fine if jaehyeon and ahreum end up like danico from hooky or gaeul/subin from sob...(im going to claw my face off)

[acourtofquestions]

TOWER OF DAWN

MAJOR SPOILERS

Chapters 61-68

+ bonus?-ish one

(Thought I should just put it all in one post cause chapter by chapter quotes don’t work here😅😅😂)

A tomb--and a trove. And at the very back, rising up on a towering dais ... Duva. The khagan's now-youngest daughter. She smiled at them as they approached--and the expression was not human. It was Valg. "Well," said the thing inside the princess, "it certainly took you long enough." The words echoed down the massive chamber, bouncing off stone and gold. Chaol assessed every shadow, every object they passed. All possible weapons. All possible escape routes. Hafiza did not move as they neared, walking down the broad avenue between the endless, glittering gold and sarcophagi. A necropolis. Perhaps one enormous, subterranean city, stretching from the desert to here.

IT WAS DUVA!!!

"Don't," Chaol rasped, the word full of blood. Duva had destroyed it-destroyed everything. From the blood coming out of his mouth, up his throat... Yrene wept, the dagger poised over the princess's neck. He was dying. Duva had ripped open something within him. Duva's brows began to twitch and furrow as she stirred. Now. She had to do it now. Drive this blade in. End it. A life. She had sworn an oath never to take a life. And with this woman before her, the second life in her womb ... The dagger lowered. She'd do it. She'd do it, and-- "Yrene," Chaol breathed, and the word was so full of pain, so quiet ... It was too late. Her magic could feel it, his death. She had never told him of that terrible gift--that healers knew when death sat near. Silba, lady of gentle deaths. The death she would give Duva and her child would not be that sort of death. Chaol's death would not be that sort of death. But she ... But she ... The princess looked so young, even as she stirred. And the life in her womb ... The life before her ... Yrene dropped the knife to the floor. Its clattering echoed over gold and stone and bones. Chaol closed his eyes in what she could have sworn was relief. A light hand touched her shoulder. She knew that touch. Hafiza. But as Yrene looked, as she turned and sobbed-- Two others stood behind the Healer on High. Too much. Too many broken and torn and ravaged things-- His chest was barely rising. He did not open his eyes. "Wake up" she ordered him, her voice breaking. She plunged into her power, but the damage ... It was like trying to patch up holes in a sinking ship. Too much. Too much and-- Shouting and steps all around them. His life began to thin and turn to mist around her magic. Death circled, an eagle with an eye upon them. "Fight it" Yrene sobbed, shaking him. "You stubborn bastard, fight it." What was the point of it, the point of any of it, if now, when it mattered-- "Please," she whispered. Chaol's chest rose, a high note before the last plunge-- She could not endure it. Would not endure it-- A light nickered. Inside that failing mass of red and black. A candle ignited. A bloom of white. Then another. Another. Blooming lights, along that broken interior. And where they shone ... Flesh knitted. Bone smoothed. Light after light after light. His chest continued to rise and fall. Rise and fall. But in the hurt and the dark and the light … A woman's voice that was both familiar and foreign. A voice that was both Hafiza's and ... another. Someone who was not human, never had been. Speaking through Hafiza herself, their voices blending into the blackness. The damage is too great. There must be a cost if it is to be repaired. All those lights seemed to hesitate at that otherworldly voice. Yrene brushed herself along them, waded through them like a field of white flowers, the lights bobbing and swaying in this quiet place of pain. Not lights ... but healers. She knew their lights, their essences. Eretia--that was Eretia closest to her. The voice that was both Hafiza and Other said again, There must be a cost. For what the princess had done to him ... There A living chain of power. All the healers in the Torre, young and old, stood in that room of gold and bone. All connected. All channeling to Yrene, to the grip she still held on Chaol.

And Yrene knew it did not belong to Hafiza or the Other. Did not belong to any healer alive. But to one who had never left her, even when she had been turned into ash on the wind.

The CoM full circle reverse!

A daughter of Fenharrow will pay the debt of a son of Adarlan?

The Other said, You offer this of your own free will? Yes. With my entire heart. It had been his from the start, anyway.

THEN CHAOL THEN THE HEALERS THEN AGH

And where that scar had once sliced down his cheek ... only unmarred skin remained.

But there is always a price

"What was the cost," Chaol rasped. If she'd given up anything, he'd find a way to retrieve it. He didn't care what he had to pay, he'd-- "To keep your life tethered in this world, we had to bind it to another. To hers. Two lives," Hafiza clarified, "now sharing one thread. But even with that," She gestured to his legs, the foot he slid up to brace on the floor. "The demon broke many, many parts of you. Too many. And in order to save most of you, there was a cost, too." Yrene went still. "What do you mean?" Hafiza again looked between them. "There remains some damage to the spine--impacting the lower portions of the legs. That even we could not repair." Chaol glanced between the Healer on High and his legs, currently moving. He went so far as to put some weight on them. They held. Hafiza went on, "With the life-bond between you, Yrene's power flowing into you ... It will act as a brace. Stabilizing the area, granting you ability to use your legs whenever Yrene's magic is at its fullest." He steeled himself for the but. Hafiza smiled grimly. "But when Yrene's power flags, when she is drained or tired, your injury will regain control, and your ability to walk will again be impaired. It will require you to use a cane at the very least--on hard days, perhaps many days, the chair. But the injury to your spine will remain." The words settled in him. Floated through and settled.

is this like Elide & Lorcan?

Good question Yrene I wondered the same thing

"Can't I just heal him again?" She leaned toward him, as if she'd do just that. Hafiza shook her head. "It is part of the balance--the cost. Do not tempt the compassion of the force that granted this to you." But Chaol touched Yrene's hand. "It is no burden, Yrene," he said softly. "To be given this. It is no burden at all." Yet agony filled her face. "But I-" "Using the chair is not a punishment. It is not a prison," he said. "It never was. And I am as much of a man in that chair, or with that cane, as I am standing on my feet." He brushed away the tear that slipped down her cheek. "I wanted to heal you," she breathed. "You did," he said, smiling. "Yrene, in every way that truly matters ... You did."

This arc😭 “in every way that truly matters”

"When it is time, whether the death is kind or cruel ... It will claim you both." Yrene's golden eyes were still lined with silver. But there was no fear in her face, no lingering sorrow--none. "Together," Chaol said quietly, and interlaced their hands. Her strength would be his strength. And when Yrene went, he would go. But if he went before her-- Dread curled in his gut. "The true price of all this," Hafiza said, reading the panic. "Not fear for your own life, but what losing your life will do to the other." "I suggest you not go to war," Eretia grumbled.

Yrene .5 seconds later😂 / the true war at hand

But Yrene shook her head, shoulders straightening as she declared, "We shall go to war.” Pointing to Duva, she looked at Sartaq. As if she had not just offered up her very life to save his--"That is what Erawan will do. To all of you. If we do not go." "I know," Sartaq said quietly. The prince turned to Nesryn, and as she held his stare ... Chaol saw it. The glimmer between them. A bond, new and trembling. But there it was, right along with the cuts and wounds they both bore. "I know," Sartaq said again, his fingers brushing Nesryn's.

This sounds familiar… I KNOW SOULMATES BOND WHEN I SEE THEM/IT FOR BOTH OF THEM

Nesryn met Chaol's eyes then. She smiled softly at him, glancing to where Yrene now asked Hafiza about whether she could stand. He'd never seen Nesryn appear so ... settled. So quietly happy. Chaol swallowed. I'm sorry, he said silently. Nesryn shook her head as Sartaq scooped his sister into his arms with a grunt, the prince balancing his weight on his good leg. I think / did just fine. Chaol smiled. Then I am happy for you. Nesryn's eyes widened as Chaol at last got to his feet, taking Yrene with him. His movements were as smooth as any maneuver he might have made without the invisible brace of Yrene's magic flowing between them. Nesryn wiped away her tears as Chaol closed the distance between them and embraced her tightly. "Thank you," he said in Nesryn's ear. She squeezed him back. "Thank you--for bringing me here. To all of this." To the prince who now looked at Nesryn with a quiet, burning sort of emotion.

This moment😭🫶 HEALING / GROWTH ALL. OF. IT.

Alive, Yrene had said to him. As they walked out of the dark, Chaol at last felt it was true. Sartaq took Duva to the khagan. Called in his brothers and sister. Because Yrene insisted they be there. Chaol and Hafiza insisted they be there.

This bond between them ... She could feel it, almost. Like a living band of cool, silken light flowing from her--into him. And he truly did not seem to mind that a piece of his spine, his nerves, would retain permanent damage for as long as they lived. Yes, he'd now be able to move his legs with limited motion, even when her magic was drained. But standing--never a possibility during those times. She supposed they'd soon learn how and when the level of her power correlated with whether he required cane or chair or neither. But Chaol was right. Whether he stood or limped or sat ... it did not change him. Who he was. She had fallen in love with him well before he'd ever stood. She would love him no matter how he moved through the world.

What if we fight? Yrene had asked him on the trek over here. What then? Chaol had only kissed her temple. We fight all the time already. It'll be nothing new. He'd added, Do you think l'd want to be with anyone who didn't hand my ass to me on a regular basis? But she'd frowned. He'd continued, And this bond between us, Yrene... it changes nothing. With you and me. You'll need your own space; I'll need mine. So if you think for one moment that you're going to get away with flimsy excuses for never leaving my side-- She'd poked him in the ribs. As if I'll want to hang around you all day like some lovesick girl! Chaol had laughed, tucking her in tighter. But Yrene had only patted his arm and said, And I think you can take care of yourself just fine. He'd just kissed her, and that was that.

Out of the dark… they found their Rowaelin🥹 (really the HoF & book parallels are crazy to me)

I am not afraid of you, Yrene said into the dark. And you have nowhere to run.

Her name is Yrene Towers and she is not afraid.

Your world shall fall. As the others have done. As all others will.

This better not be foreshadowing…

No, prince am I, girl. But a princess. And my sisters shall soon find you.

holy shit there’s valg princesses (and they talk like Yoda?) *screams at sky UGH Maeve* PSPS don’t skip this book it’s crucial SIDE NOTE points Chaol😂 We love our fictional husbands just giving a pat on the back for support

“I DIDNT know they could do that… for some reason this chapter brought out the John Mulaney ever since Hasar said Hush”

Lethal--with rage. Not at Yrene, not at Duva, but the man who had sent this to their house. Their family. Duva's face relaxed on an exhaled breath, color blooming on her cheeks. Duva's husband tried to surge for her again, but Yrene stopped him with an upheld hand. Heavy-her hand was so heavy. But she held the young man's panicked stare. Which had not been on his wife's face, but the belly. Yrene nodded to him as if to say, I will look. Then she laid her hands on that round, high womb. Sent her magic probing, dancing along it--the life within. Something new and joyous answered back. Loudly.

POOR DUVA HOW DID NO ONE NOTICE — I MEAN HER HUSBAND & THE ENTIRE MARRIAGE… ow man… not to be that person but seriously??? (and also the sister line broke me TALK ABOUT TRAUMA the poor girl) — THE DAMNED SNEAKY NEW FANCY RING TRICK

P.s. point to the Khagan for switching from his “fight to death children” mantra

And extra spy points to Kadja😂 guess the weird chicken recipes distraction didn’t work🤣

But it did not frustrate him, did not embarrass him. If this was to be his body's natural state for the rest of his life ... it was not a punishment, not at all. He was still thinking that when they reached his suite, mulling over how they might work out a schedule of him fighting in battle with her healing. For he would fight. And if her power was drained, he'd fight then, too. Whether on horseback or in the chair itself. And when Yrene needed to heal, when the magic in her veins summoned her to those killing fields and their bond grew thin ... he'd manage with a cane, or the chair. He would not shrink from it. If he survived the battle. The war. If they survived.

Y’all better survive after the EoS ending I can’t handle anymore of that

MAEVE IS THE VALG QUEEN!!!

Still not over that😅😅😬 possibly the biggest plot twist/name drop of the series? Like Aelin I expected BUT THAT

"That explains why the Fae healers might have fled, too," Yrene murmured when Nesryn fell silent. "Why Maeve's own healer compound lies on the border with the mortal world. Perhaps not so they can have access to humans who need care... but as a border patrol against the Valg, should they ever try to encroach her territory." How close the Valg had unwittingly come when Aelin had fought those princes in Wendlyn. "It also explains why Aelin reported an owl at Maeve's side when they first met," Nesryn said, gesturing to Yrene, whose brows bunched. Then Yrene blurted, "The owl must be the Fae form of a healer. Some healer of hers that she keeps close--as a bodyguard. Has let everyone believe to be some pet ..."

I KNEW IT

"The demon told me it was not a Valg prince... but a princess." Silence. Until Nesryn said, "The spider. It claimed the Valg kings had sons and daughters. Princes and princesses." Chaol swore. No, his legs would not be able to function anytime soon, with or without Yrene's slowly refilling well of power. "We're going to need a Fire-Bringer, it seems," he said. And to translate the books Hafiza said she would gladly hand over to their cause. Nesryn chewed on her lip. "Aelin now sails north to Terrasen, an armada with her. The witches as well." "Or just the Thirteen," Chaol countered. "The reports were murky. It might not even be Manon Blackbeak's coven, actually." "It is," Nesryn said. "I'd bet everything on it."

NO SHES NOT AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WE NEED A FIRE BRINGER BUT YALL GOTTA GO GET HER LIKE RIGHT FRIGGIN NOW THIS IS KILLING ME AGHHHHHHHSAVANKWWIRHRBD

But yes keep calm and trust in Manon & THE 13

Okay yeah Yrene can heal them and now Nesryns got a ruk ITS ALL GONNA BE FINE (it all better be fine)

Nesryn The Empress has a nice ring to it don’t ya think

Now we’re really like Heir of Fire only it’s Nesryn Heir of the Southern Continent

The world he laid at her feet. She trembled at it. What he so freely gave. Not the empire and crown, but ... the life. His heart. Nesryn wondered if he knew her heart had been his from that very first ride atop Kadara. Sartaq smiled as if to say yes, he had. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was tentative, and soft, and full of wonder, that kiss. He tasted like the wind, like a mountain spring. He tasted like home. Nesryn clasped his face in her hands as she pulled back. "To war, Sartaq," she breathed, memorizing every line of his face. "And then we'll see what comes after." Sartaq gave her a knowing, cocky grin. As if he'd fully decided what would come after and nothing she could say would ever convince him otherwise. And from the courtyard just a wall away, her sister shouted, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, "I told you, Father!"

I’m so happy to see her happy and her family and her see her family🥹 I NEEDED THIS😭 & THE HOME QUOTE (again Rowaelin much?😉😘🫶)

Home. They were to sail home today.

Home🥹😭

"I wish I had never said a word to you on the steppes that night." Yrene began to shake her head, unsure of what to even say. "I have missed having you--as my friend," Kashin went on. "I do not have many of them." "I know," she managed to get out. And then added, "I missed having you as my friend, too." For she had. And what he was now willing to do for her, her people ... She took Kashin's hand. Squeezed it. There was still pain in his eyes, limning his handsome face, but ... understanding. And a clear, undaunted gleam as he beheld the northern horizon. The prince squeezed her hand in return. "Thank you again--for Duva." A small smile toward that northern skv. "We shall meet again, Yrene Towers. I am certain of it."

Props to Kashin & also hopeful foreshadowing for once (& no one better die when they meet again)

She smiled back at him, beyond words. But Kashin winked, pulling his hand from hers. "My sulde still blows northward. Who knows what I may find on the road ahead? Especially now that Sartaq has the burden of being Heir, and I'm free to do as I please." The city had been in an uproar about it. Celebrating, debating--it still raged on. What the other royal siblings thought, Yrene did not know, but ... there was peace in Kashin's eyes. And in the eyes of the others, when Yrene had seen them. And part of her indeed wondered if Sartaq had struck some unspoken agreement that went beyond Never Duva. To perhaps even Never Us. Yrene had smiled again at the prince--at her friend. "Thank you, for all your kindness."

beyond words “Never Duva. Never us.” never again

Even in the early morning, the tower was a beacon, a jutting lance of hope and calm. She wondered if she would ever see it again. For what lay ahead of them ... Yrene braced her hands on the rail as another gust of wind rocked the ship. A wind from inland, as if all thirty-six gods of Antica blew a collective breath to send them skittering home. Across the Narrow Sea--and to war. The ship began to move at last, the world a riot of action and color and sound, but Yrene remained at the rail. Watching the city grow smaller and smaller. And even when the coast was little more than a shadow, Yrene could have sworn she still saw the Torre standing above it, glinting white in the sun, as if it were an arm upraised in farewell.

So many HoF parallels (also the Tower at Dawn imagery *chefs kiss* PERFECTION)

Never for granted😭

The way we went from the EoS ship bonus sneak peek to here & soon to be KoA

Also is it the same storm?

"Watching the horizon won't get us there any faster," he murmured onto her neck. "Neither will teasing your wife about it." Chaol smiled against her skin. "How else am I to amuse myself during the long hours than by teasing you, Lady Westfall?" she snorted, as she always did at the title. But Chaol had never heard anything finer--other than the vows they'd spoken in Silba's temple at the Torre two and a halt weeks ago. The ceremony had been small, but Hasar had insisted on a feast afterward that put to shame all the others they'd had in the palace. The princess might have been many things, but she certainly knew how to throw a party.

No longer Yrene Towers--but Yrene Westfall.

WHERES MY WIFE VS LADY WESTFALL I CANT decide if I’m healed or more broken … also the way we went from Lord Westfall “it’s Chaol” to this🥹

Gods help him when Hasar and Aedion met.

This better happen cause now I can’t wait😂

Hellas Horse “Butterfly”

New fav character😂👏

She smiled down at the locket, the silver near-blinding in the midday sun. "I suppose I don't need my little note any longer." "Why?" "Because I am not alone," she said, running her fingers over the metal. "And because I found my courage." He kissed her cheek, but said nothing as she opened the locket and carefully removed the browned scrap. The wind tried to rip it from her fingers, but Yrene held tight, unfolding the slender fragment. She scanned the text she'd read a thousand times. "I wonder if she'll return for this war. Whoever she was. She spoke of the empire like…" Yrene shook her head, more to herself, and folded it shut again. "Perhaps she will come home to fight, from wherever she sailed off to." She offered him the piece of paper and turned away to the sea ahead. Chaol took the scrap from Yrene, the paper velvet-soft from its countless readings and foldings and how she'd held it in her pocket, clutched it, all these years. He unfolded the note and read the words he already knew were within: For wherever you need to go--and then some. The world needs more healers. The waves quieted. The ship itself seemed to pause. Chaol glanced to Yrene, smiling serenely at the sea, then to the note. To the handwriting he knew as well as his own.

The fact that he knew her handwriting — Forgiveness can you imagine? 😭 — & THE story

For wherever you need to go--and then some. The world needs more healers. There, in her handwriting ... Chaol looked up at last, blinking away tears as he scanned his wife's face. Every beautiful line, those golden eyes. A gift. A gift from a queen who had seen another woman in hell and thought to reach back a hand. With no thought of it ever being returned. A moment of kindness, a tug on a thread ... And even Aelin could not have known that in saving a barmaid from those mercenaries, in teaching her to defend herself, in giving her that gold and this note ... Even Aelin could not have known or dreamed or guessed how that moment of kindness would be answered. Not just by a healer blessed by Silba herself, capable of wiping the Valg away. But by the three hundred healers who had come with her. The three hundred healers from the Torre, now spread across the one thousand ships of the khagan himself. A favor, Yrene had asked of the man in return for saving his most beloved daughter. Anything, the khagan had promised. Yrene had knelt before the khagan. Save my people. That was all she asked. All she had begged. Save my people. So the khagan had answered.

The way it all weaves together like SO YOUR TELLING ME ALL OF IT🥹😭 once upon a time there was a princess who loved her kingdom very much *gonna go sob now*

Chaol folded the note along its well-worn lines and carefully set it back within Yrene's locket. "Keep it a while longer," he said softly. "I think there's someone who will want to see that." Yrene's eyes filled with surprise and curiosity, but she asked nothing as Chaol again slid his arms around her and held her tightly. Every step, all of it, had led here. From that keep in the snow-blasted mountains where a man with a face as hard as the rock around them had thrown him into the cold; to that salt mine in Endovier, where an assassin with eyes like wildfire had smirked at him, unbroken despite a year in hell. An assassin who had found his wife, or they had found each other, two gods-blessed women wandering the shadowed ruins of the world. And who now held the fate of it between them. Every step. Every curve into darkness. Every moment of despair and rage and pain. It had led him to precisely where he needed to be. Where he wanted to be. A moment of kindness. From a young woman who ended lives to a young woman who saved them.

The unwritten Captain and The Assassin bonus is complete😭 … I cannot wait for Aelin to read that (I’m gonna need it) “a moment of kindness”

He did not regret. He did not look back. Not with Yrene in his arms, at his side. Not with the note she carried, that bit of proof... that bit of proof that he was exactly where he was meant to be. That he had always been headed there. Here. "Will I ever hear an explanation for this dramatic reaction," Yrene said at last, clicking her tongue, "or are you just going to kiss me for the rest of the day?" Chaol rumbled a laugh. "It's a long story." He slung an arm around her waist and stared out toward the horizon with her. "And you might want to sit down first." "Those are my favorite kinds," she said, winking. Chaol laughed again, feeling the sound in every part of him, letting it ring clear and bright as a bell. A final, joyous pealing before the storm of war swept in. "Come on," he said to Yrene, nodding to the soldiers working alongside Hasar's men to keep the ships sailing swiftly for the north--to battle and bloodshed. "I'll tell you over lunch." Yrene rose onto her toes to kiss him before he led them toward their spacious stateroom. "This story of yours had better be worth it," she said with a wry grin. Chaol smiled back at his wife, at the light he'd unknowingly walked toward his entire life, even when he had not been able to see it. "It is," he said quietly to Yrene. "It is."

The most beautiful scene which is needed pre bonus chapter😭

Fireheart

😭😵🫥☠️💔🖤

Don’t even get me started on that final piece KILL ME NOW SARAH OH WAIT YOU ALREADY DID

They had entombed her in darkness and iron. She slept, for they had forced her to--had wafted curling, sweet smoke through the cleverly hidden airholes in the slab of iron above. Around. Beneath. A coffin built by an ancient queen to trap the sun inside.

To trap the sun inside… she’s the sun… crying again

Draped with iron, encased in it, she slept. Dreamed. Drifted through seas, through darkness, through fire. A princess of nothing. Nameless.

“Nameless is my price”

The princess sang to the darkness, to the flame. And they sang back. There was no beginning or end or middle. Only the song, and the sea, and the iron sarcophagus that had become her bower. Until they were gone. Until blinding light flooded the slumbering, warm dark. Until the wind swept in, crisp and scented with rain. She could not feel it on her face. Not with the death-mask still chained to it. Her eyes cracked open. The light burned away all shape and color after so long in the dim depths. But a face appeared before her--above her. Peering over the lid that had been hauled aside. Dark, flowing hair. Moon-pale skin. Lips as red as blood. The ancient queen's mouth parted in a smile. Teeth as white as bone. "You're awake. Good." Lovely and cold, it was a voice that could devour the stars. From somewhere, from the blinding light, rough and scar-flecked hands reached into the coffin. Grasped the chains binding her. The queen's huntsman; the queen's blade.

The huntsman… Sarah don’t go getting all fairytale Grimm on me again now

He hauled the princess upright, her body a distant, aching thing. She did not want to slide back into this body. Struggled against it, clawing for the flame and the darkness that now ebbed away from her like a morning tide. But the huntsman yanked her closer to that cruel, beautiful face watching with a spider's smile. And he held her still as that ancient queen purred, "Let's begin."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ENDING IT LIKE THAT

[03071012]

I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HEREEEEE OH MY GOD THIS UPDATE KILLED ME

normally i like to write out long paragraphs for the lovely author and i do plan to do that in the tags BUT ALSO I NEED TO SCREECH BECAUSE THIS UPDATE REEEEEEEEEE

okay here are my actual thoughts hhhhh

✧✦✧ "Fragments" - episode 47 ✧✦✧

One anomaly finally sees the other.

New reader? episode list on tumblr | webtoon Read 4 more episodes: patreon | kofi

[tteokdoroki]

ᯓ★ ONCE UPON A FUCK ME !? — kinktober 2024 !

mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the filthiest fairytale of them all? your favourite storybook characters, reimagined.

✧ there’s a note from your fairy godmother - hello my angels !! welcome to another kinktober. i hope you guys are as excited as i am. wave your magic wand here ! to join the taglist. rb for a happy ending ₊˚⊹ ᥫ᭡.

✧ read the blurb - each of the following fairytales contain nsfw and dark themes. fem!reader. each fic comes with its own warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER ONE RAPUNZEL - satoru gojo.

[OCT 1ST ★ BONDAGE] once upon a time, a girl trapped in a tower with nothing but her extremely lavish, long hair as company decides…fuck it and sleeps with a handsome stranger to get what she wants.

additional kinks. orgasm control, sensory deprivation, edging, thigh riding, spit kink, outer-course, begging, switching.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST - katsuki bakugou.

[OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING] once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while.

additional kinks. bath sex, soft sex, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, body modifications.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER FIFTEEN CINDERELLA - tobio kageyama.

[OCT 15TH ★ MUTUAL MASTURBATION] once upon a time, a soon-to-be crowned princess, once down on her luck, says fuck it and settles on consummating her marriage with the crown prince before they’re actually due to be married.

additional kinks. oral sex, clothed sex, cherry chasing, first time, corruption.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER SIXTEEN THE LITTLE MERMAID - eijirou kirishima.

[OCT 16TH ★ FUCK OR DIE] once upon a time, a princess decides — fuck it! fuck the engagement. who cares when a sexy half-man, half -fish…prince? whatever! needs to drown her in an ocean of pleasure in order to survive…

additional kinks. underwater sex, ritualistic sex, voice kink, pain kink, choking, quickie.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO SLEEPING BEAUTY - seishiro nagi.

[OCT 22ND ★ SOMNOPHILIA] once upon a time, a brave knight, destined to marry someone she’d never met, says fuck it and plans to reap the rewards of saving the prince from eternal slumber. without realising that he’s already awake…

additional kinks. hold the moan, overstimulation, cockwarming, dacryphilia, outer-course, free use, dub con, cumplay.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD - yuuji itadori.

[OCT 29TH ★ KNOTTING] once upon a time, a curious little girl says fuck it and disobeyes her mother’s only wish. stay on the path when you visit your granny, you don’t want to get snatched up by the big bad wolf.

additional kinks. wolf hybrids, mating season, oral fixation, sweat + scent kink, pregnancy kink, lactation, breeding, a/b/o.

✐ᝰ.ᐟ BONUS CHAPTER: GOLDILOCKS & THE THREE BEARS - bachira, isagi 'n nagi.

[OCT 31ST ★ CUCKING] once upon a time, a sweet little bear hybrid on her own in the woods decides... fuck it! she'll teach that pesky thief goldilocks what it really means to share. with the help of friends, of course.

additional kinks. bear hybrids, double penetration, mutual masturbation, deep throating, brat taming, exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, foursome, dub-con, coercion, marking, oral sex.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You go home for Thanksgiving and who else joins your family but none other than their wonderful neighbours Agatha and Rio

-OR-

You struggle to make it through the meal and so does Agatha, but she "accidentally" spills her drink which means you fuck in the bathroom :)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, fingering, oral, mention of humiliation kink

Words: 3.5k

A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!!! to celebrate here is a bonus seasonal chapter :D Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate, and to those who don't: enjoy the chapter anyway ;)

AO3 | Part 1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Masterlist

A Thanksgiving To Remember

As the morning light filters through the blinds, the hotel room is dim and quiet. You wake up slowly, feeling warm and content, your body still tingling from last night. You shift slightly, realising that Rio is already awake. She’s sprawled comfortably on her side, her head resting on the pillow, her hand absently stroking your arm. Her eyes flicker open as she senses you waking, and she smiles at you lazily.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Rio hums, stretching and running a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good thanks, how about you?" You smile, feeling the pull of her easy, bright energy. Was she always so upbeat in the mornings?

“I’m great. But she,” Rio gestures toward Agatha with a playful smirk, “isn’t a morning person.”

Behind you, Agatha just grumbles in response, muffling her face into the pillow and pulling you closer into her. Rio leans over, a mischievous grin on her face as she brushes Agatha’s hair from her face. “C’mon, darling, I’ll make you coffee,” she offers sweetly, but you can hear the hint of a challenge in her tone. 

Agatha groans again but finally starts to sit up, stretching with an audible crack in her spine. “Fine, fine,” Agatha mutters. “But it better be good, or I’ll go back to sleep.” 

Rio laughs and gets up to make coffee, leaving Agatha to rub her eyes before looking at you. You share a quiet moment, the lingering energy from the night before making the air between you feel heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As Rio busies herself in the kitchenette in the corner of the room, Agatha grabs her phone and starts swiping through it. Not wanting to bother her, you reach for your phone too. You’re happily scrolling when a notification pops up

MILF 1 has added you to the group chat.

MILF 1 named the group chat Check-In Group

MILF 1: There. You can’t ignore us now, sweetheart.

You’re smiling at your phone when you feel Rio standing next to you, coffee in hand

“What are you smiling at? Not another potential date, I hope." She meant it as a tease, but you can hear the hint of jealousy in her voice.

“No,” you chuckle. “In fact, it’s just the opposite; Agatha is making sure that never happens again.” You tilt your phone to show Rio the notifications.

She looks down at your phone, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen. “Why do you have Agatha saved as MILF 1?” she asks, raising her voice loud enough so Agatha hears.

You laugh nervously and quickly glance at Agatha, who’s sitting up now and lazily sipping her coffee, her attention on the two of you. She raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes glinting with something more than just curiosity.

“Well?” Rio prompts, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You squirm under their combined gazes, feeling both flustered and slightly turned on. “It’s just the truth,” you admit sheepishly, your voice dropping as you fidget with the comforter. “She is a mom, and, well, I do want to f—” You stop yourself just in time, your cheeks heating as you look anywhere but at them.

Rio raises an eyebrow, a wicked grin curling on her lips. “Oh? And what am I saved as?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Please tell me it’s not just MILF 2.”

Your face goes hot, and you start fiddling with the comforter in your lap. “It might be.”

Rio bursts into laughter. “You really couldn’t think of something more creative?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Agatha’s smile never fades, but her eyes darken, and she stands up, stretching slowly. “Okay, on that note, I’m going to go shower,” she says, cutting through the playful moment. She gives Rio a brief kiss on the cheek before heading toward the bathroom. “You two behave while I’m gone.”

As Agatha disappears into the bathroom, Rio sets her coffee cup on the nightstand and leans closer to you, her expression shifting. There’s an undeniable heat in her eyes as her lips brush against yours in a kiss that’s possessive and urgent. “So you like to fuck us, hmm?” she whispers against your lips, her breath warm as it fans over your skin.

Your breath catches as her words sink in, and your body reacts almost instantly, a tingling warmth pooling low in your belly.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind Agatha, Rio doesn’t waste a second. She pushes you back against the pillows, her touch both gentle and commanding. The electricity in the air is palpable as her lips find yours again, her kiss deepening with every passing second.

You moan softly when her hand trails down your side, grazing your hip before slipping under your waistband. She pauses just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re already so excited for me. Do you like it that much when I humiliate you?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver.

Before you can answer, Rio presses her lips to yours again, cutting off any reply as her hand moves with a confidence that leaves you breathless. Her touch is slow at first, teasing, as though she’s savouring every little sound you make in response. The tension between you builds rapidly, and the air is charged with unspoken need.

Somewhere in the background, you faintly register the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Rio pulls back just enough to mutter against your lips, her voice low and dripping with desire. “I’ve got about ten minutes until she's done showering.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the hunger in her tone unmistakable. You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet her gaze. “I don’t think we’ll need that long anyway,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of her intensity.

Rio smirks, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your answer. She wets her fingers with your arousal before burying two of them inside you, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you completely. “So eager for me already,” she murmurs, her voice both teasing and utterly dominating. Her words make your breath hitch, the hint of humiliation in her tone only heightening your anticipation as she begins to fuck you.

There is no slow buildup, and Rio is mercilessly fucking you in seconds, pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make; you’re pretty sure that the whole floor can hear you now.

She starts to pump her fingers faster, and you can hear how wet you are. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down before soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. "Shhhhh, baby, try and keep quiet for me; Aggie can’t know what I’m doing.”

The idea that this sex was potentially forbidden pushes you over the edge, and you grip on to her shoulders for dear life as your orgasm comes crashing over you. You pull Rio into a messy kiss to try and dampen your moans as you wind down. She pulls her fingers out, humming with pleasure as she sucks them clean.

“Fucking hell,” you pant.

Rio looks at you with a devilish grin. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening jolts you out of the haze. Agatha steps into the room, towel-wrapped and hair damp, her expression calm as she surveys the scene. Rio immediately freezes, her eyes widening slightly like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Agatha doesn’t say a word. She simply raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, before turning back to the closet to finish getting ready. Her calm, collected demeanour somehow leaves you even more flustered than being caught outright.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. After Agatha and Rio get you dressed, they drive you back to your college apartment; their voices light and playful. “Remember to actually text us this time,” Rio teases as she pulls up to the curb. “We’re not just for weekends, you know.”

“Yeah, text us, sweetheart,” Agatha adds with a soft smile. “We like hearing from you.”

“I will,” you promise, glancing at your phone, already thinking of what you were going to text them.

—

Later that evening, you’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you notice a new notification in your group chat with Agatha and Rio.

Check-In Group

MILF 2 changed the name to MILFs Anonymous

MILF 1: Rio!

MILF 2: Come on, just let me have this one thing :(

MILF 1: Fine, but Y/N, change our contact names now please

You roll your eyes at Rio’s antics but do as you’re told, not wanting to dissapoint Agatha; you still feel a bit guilty for having sex with Rio this morning.

—

Over the next few days, you find yourself texting with them more and more. The conversations flow easily—Agatha constantly checking in on you, always asking if you’ve eaten or if you’re doing alright. It’s sweet, in a way you didn’t expect, but it’s comforting. Rio, on the other hand, can’t resist sending her terrible dad jokes, which, despite your best efforts, always make you laugh.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 15:48

Rio: What do you call a group of crows that stick together?

You: Oh God, please stop

Agatha: Seriously. You’re not funny

Rio: VelCrows :)))

Agatha: Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you

Rio: It’s because I fuck you like there’s no tomorrow ;)

~ 21:17

Agatha: *click to open image*

Agatha: Huh, you don’t look like you’re doing much fucking to me

You drop your phone with a loud clatter. You were not expecting to see a picture of a Rio naked and tied to the bed with a vibrator pressed against her clit and by the looks of it, she had been like that for some time. You spend the rest of your evening fucking yourself to that image. Each time you think you’re done and can't cum any more, the image pops into your mind again, and you start to imagine all the things they would do if you were with them, and before you know it, your hand is back between your legs.

—

Thanksgiving break arrives faster than expected, and the familiar comfort of your parents' home feels like a welcome change from the chaos of college life. You arrive in the early afternoon, greeted by the warm aroma of roasted turkey and spiced pies wafting from the kitchen. It’s a little odd being home after everything that’s happened with Rio and Agatha, knowing they live just next door. You wonder if you’ll see them during your visit.

It turns out you don’t have to wonder for long.

A knock at the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and your dad answers with a cheerful, “Agatha! Rio! Happy Thanksgiving!”

Your stomach flips.

You appear in the hallway just in time to see them stepping inside, Agatha holding a neatly wrapped gift basket and Rio carrying what looks like a bottle of wine. They’re dressed casually but still look effortlessly gorgeous; Rio is dressed in a breezy striped blue shirt that’s half tucked into her jeans. The loose fit of the shirt somehow adds to her charm, her confident movements making it clear she’s completely at ease. Agatha, on the other hand, is the picture of sophistication, her fitted blazer in a warm mustard hue paired with a turtleneck and slacks giving her a commanding presence that turns heads—even in such a casual setting.

“We just wanted to drop this off,” Agatha says, her usual polished tone soft and warm. “A little something for the holiday.”

“Oh, nonsense, you’re not just dropping it off,” your mom insists, appearing behind your dad. “You’re staying for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you did for this one when they got locked out in the rain.”

Your heart nearly stops. You glance at Agatha, who meets your wide-eyed look with a calm, knowing smile.

“Really, it wasn’t any trouble,” Agatha says smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I mean, we could’ve just let them in with the spare key you gave us, but... well, we thought they might prefer a warm bed and some company at ours instead.”

Your cheeks burn as Rio chimes in, her grin bordering on wicked. “And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.”

Your parents laugh, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the exchange, but you feel like you’re about to combust. Agatha and Rio both throw you brief, pointed glances before following your mom into the dining room, leaving you standing there trying to steady your racing heart.

—

Dinner starts off innocently enough, but the air feels charged in a way you can’t quite explain. You’re hyper-aware of Rio sitting across from you and Agatha beside you, their presence consuming all your focus.

Rio’s long fingers wrap elegantly around her wine glass as she listens to your dad talk, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk every time your eyes meet. Meanwhile, Agatha takes every opportunity to lean close, brushing her arm against yours under the guise of reaching for the breadbasket or whispering a sly comment in your ear that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“You look a little flushed, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs at one point, her tone dripping with amusement. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, biting your lip to keep from saying something that would give you away. Rio catches the exchange and arches an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of you knowingly.

It only gets worse as the meal progresses. Rio’s foot grazes yours under the table, lingering just long enough to send a thrill up your spine. 

When Agatha pours herself another glass of wine, she tilts the bottle toward you with a raised brow, silently asking if you’d like more. You nod, not trusting your voice. As she leans over to fill your glass, her lips brush your ear so faintly it feels like a whisper of air. “Behave, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so low and intimate that a shiver runs down your spine.

You clench your thighs and glance up at her wide-eyed, but she only pulls back with that same subtle smile, her expression calm and unreadable.

You do your best to stay composed, but your mind is spinning. Every touch, every look, and every smirk makes it harder to focus on anything else.

Then, as if the universe wants to test your resolve further, Agatha “accidentally” spills a bit of wine on her sweater.

“Oh, shoot,” she says, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” your mom says quickly. “Y/N, show Agatha where the bathroom is, and grab her a clean top from the laundry room, will you?”

You nod, your pulse quickening as you rise from the table. Agatha follows you down the hall, her calm exterior betraying nothing, but you can feel the tension radiating off her like heat. You scurry off to grab Agatha a clean top and quickly show her to the bathroom.

The moment you’re alone in the room, she closes the door behind you with a soft click and turns to face you, her expression shifting from composed to utterly predatory.

“Finally,” she murmurs, stepping closer, her voice low and thick with desire. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all evening?”

Your breath catches as she backs you against the counter, her hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against her. Her lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss hungry and demanding, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads through your entire body.

“Agatha, we—” you start to protest, your voice a shaky whisper, but she silences you with another kiss, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your face.

“They’re none the wiser,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “Now, let me have you for just a moment.”

Before you can respond, Agatha’s hands drift lower, deftly removing anything on your bottom half that will get in the way of her goal and letting the fabric fall to the tiled floor. Her gaze darkens as she sinks to her knees in front of you, her palms sliding down your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, full of lust and mischief, as she leans in closer. “Dripping everywhere,” she murmurs, her voice husky and teasing, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Just like the first time we were in a bathroom together. Seems I have a knack for this, don’t I?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as her words hang in the air, her presence between your legs sending a surge of electricity through you.

It might be Thanksgiving, but your body feels like the Fourth of July when she drags her tongue from your entrance to your clit. She sucks it into her mouth and flicks lightly with the tip of her tongue before releasing it and going back to push her tongue inside you. The woman is on a mission and wastes no time in bringing you close to your climax in record time.

Her hand clamps over your mouth, not willing to risk you letting the whole street know that you’re going to cum, and then, with a final flick of her tongue, you’re glad she did because the orgasm hits you like a fucking 18-wheeler truck, your legs start to shake, and you have to grip on to the sink to stop yourself from collapsing. 

Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as the world tilts back into focus, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. Agatha stands, her movements unhurried and precise as she grabs a tissue and delicately wipes the corner of her mouth, her expression one of calm satisfaction.

"Still as sweet as I remember," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she crumples the tissue and tosses it into the small trash can by the sink.

You blink at her, still clinging to the edge of the sink for balance, your legs shaky and your mind a hazy blur of aftershocks. Agatha’s hands are steady as she helps you straighten your clothes, her touch lingering just a moment too long, her fingers grazing the small of your back before she steps away.

She smooths the fresh top you fetched for her, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Perfectly put together, not a single hair out of place. You can’t help but marvel at her composure, especially when you feel like you’ve just been turned inside out.

Agatha turns back to you, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips as she gives your ass a light pat. “Go on, darling,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “Head back out there before they start to wonder. I’ll be right behind you.”

You swallow hard, willing your legs to cooperate, and make your way back to the dining room, still trying to regain your composure.

The two of you return to the dining room during dessert, the scent of sweet pies and coffee wafting in the air. Agatha looks completely composed now, her clean top fitting snugly as she takes her seat next to you. She even stops for a moment to dab a napkin at the corner of her mouth—the perfect picture of elegance considering she was wiping away the last remnants of your cum. You, however, can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you settle down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze too directly.

From the other side of the table, Rio watches the two of you with a smirk that’s far too knowing for comfort. She raises her glass in a small toast, the corner of her lips quirking in amusement before she takes a slow sip.

“So,” she says casually, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “did the mess get sorted out?”

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, shooting her a calm, collected smile. “All taken care of. They were very helpful.” She says, draping an arm around the back of your chair.

Your mother beams, none the wiser. “Well, that’s sweet. Always good to know you’ve got a helping hand.”

Rio stifles a laugh behind her hand, her eyes meeting yours briefly. The heat simmering beneath your skin refuses to let up, and you can only hope that dessert wraps up soon—before someone else catches on.

-----

"we could’ve just let them in with the spare key"

*humming* it was Agatha all along

⚠️Remember⚠️validation saves lives (this fic dies when I believe nobody likes it anymore because I have imposter syndrome)

READ PART 4

-----

taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @4theluvofsapphos

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

series masterlist

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

-

part four

[starmapz]

what you know - ch7: yuletide || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 11.2k.

❦ a/n ; happy holidays to those who celebrate! this was originally intended to be a little bonus chapter but as you can see, it kinda got away from me LOL. so i hope you enjoy <3

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

“Kunaaaaaaaa!”

Walking back from Choso’s friend’s house, Sukuna inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here, quit yelling, brat.”

“You’re not listening though!” Yuji pouts, tugging at his arm until he kneels down.

And god, Sukuna’s head pounds the moment he’s lowered himself down to his little brother’s height. His mind is practically screaming at him, begging him to lay down in the dark and sleep just a little bit longer.

With a sigh, Sukuna rubs at his temple. “What, Yu?”

“Cho’s friend said they’re having a big, big Christmas dinner with turkey and stuffing and veggies and- and- potatoes, and they have a big tree and decorations and they have family traveling to see them-”

Sukuna lowers his hand from his head slowly, eyes narrowed in an attempt to fend off the effects of his hangover following his night of drinking, partying, and chicken fingers as he listens to Yuji go on about the holidays.

Christmas.

Aside from saving a bit of extra money to get gifts, Sukuna hasn’t exactly had the luxury of stopping to think much about it. He supposes he could have, and probably should have focused on that yesterday rather than going to Gojo’s party, but he needed a night to himself more than ever before with the lawsuit weighing down heavily on his shoulders.

He’s not thrilled that in his drunken stupor he dragged you into the fray of his issues with his step-mother, if Sukuna even dared grace her with such a name, but somehow it doesn’t seem quite as dire with you on his side.

“Seeeeeeee!” Yuji groans, catching Sukuna lost in thought. “You’re not listeningggg!”

His jaw tightens. “I’m listening,” he grumbles, gritting his teeth as he drags his palm over his face.

He casts a glance at Choso, who’s blankly staring at the exchange between his older and younger brothers, and Sukuna wonders if the twelve-year-old is worrying about him right now. He wonders if this is one of those moments that his own kid brother is contemplating his well-being.

With a pang in his heart, he grimaces and gives Yuji his full attention. “You wanna have a big Christmas?”

Yuji nods eagerly. Swallowing hard, Sukuna prays he can provide that and not dull the light behind his eyes. The reality is that no matter what he does, there won’t be a big extended family, or a turkey, or even a big tree. The most he can manage is a small tree, a couple of friends, and some decorations from the dollar store.

Yuji isn’t old enough to remember the holidays with their dad, and his mom was gone so soon after he was born that Sukuna doubts he remembers her at all, let alone a holiday with her. Choso surely remembers both, though during their first holiday as just the three of them, Sukuna destroyed the illusion of holiday merriment and the joys of waking up on Christmas morning to gifts from Santa.

It wasn’t on purpose, but he had no clue what he was doing. He wasn’t in a good place mentally, nor did he have the money for much more than a hoodie Choso had wanted. The closest thing they’d had to a Christmas that year was Uraume surprising them by coming over and cooking dinner. Since then, it’s become tradition. Uraume never expects a gift in return for cooking a full Christmas dinner and even leaving the leftovers, but Sukuna makes an effort regardless to return the favor.

With a huff, Sukuna stands at his full height, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he gives in to his little brother’s request. That’s how he finds himself pushing a cart through the dollar store with his brothers in tow and a mean hangover that seems to have no intention of relenting anytime soon as the sterile white lighting beats down on him.

“What about these?” Choso holds up a stack of Christmas plates and napkins.

With a glance at the price, Sukuna mutters a ‘sure’, only because nodding makes his head absolutely ache.

Leaning over the cart, Sukuna watches Choso grab reasonable items, while Yuji shovels anything and everything he can into the cart.

“No,” Sukuna mutters each time a plush, massive wreath, or Christmas themed cookies make their way into the cart.

“Kuna, can we pleeeaaase at least get these?” He begs, holding up a pair of light-up antlers. He clicks a button on the ears, causing the lights to flash.

“No, Yu. Put ‘em back.”

Yuji pouts, staring down at them in his hands as he fiddles with the fabric of the ears. The little boy glances back up at Sukuna with wide, glassy eyes and sure enough, his resolve crumbles.

“Fine. Grab a pair for Cho, too.”

Yuji parades around the cart with a series of ‘yay’s and ‘thank you’s, and even Choso’s eyes light up as Sukuna leans further over the cart until the wheels are squeaking in an effort to support his weight.

The aisle is a blur of pink hair as Yuji bounces around the decorations, lips pursing into a big ‘o’ as he points at a small Christmas tree with lights strung around it. With a yawn, Sukuna mildly watches as Choso tries to talk the pink-haired child down from the tree that’s on the more expensive side for the dollar store, but even his eyes go wide with wonder as Sukuna reaches over them and sets it in the cart.

Remember when everything at the dollar store used to actually cost a dollar? Sukuna certainly does.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sukuna sighs, leading the way towards the exit as Yuji talks his ear off about how he wants to watch Christmas movies. As he goes on about how he’s never seen Home Alone, Sukuna watches the cashier scan their items, his brow furrowing as he sees Choso pull a Santa hat out from the pile in the cart. “No,” he scolds, holding his hand out to his brother expectantly.

Usually the reasonable of the two kids, Sukuna simply raises a brow when Choso continues his motions, placing a second Santa hat on the counter. The poor employee has paused with an uncertain expression, taking note of the debate going on between the two siblings.

“Choso,” Sukuna growls, holding his hand out more expectantly.

The boy grabs a third Santa hat, placing it on the counter as well.

“Choso,” Sukuna hisses, reaching forward to grab the hats off the counter but the little boy snatches them away first.

“Please, Kuna.”

“No. Antlers or hats, not both.”

Yuji grabs his brother’s hand in solidarity, pouting up at Sukuna.

“No, brat. That won’t work twice.” Losing patience, Sukuna pulls out his card, silently threatening to pay and leave if they don’t choose.

“Kuna, please. I won’t ask for anything else,” Choso pleads.

He falters, his thumb running over the chip on his card as he shoots the dark-haired Itadori a glance from his peripherals. Why the hell does he want these hats so bad? He’s not sure he understands, but the extra few dollars won’t kill him, and if he’s being honest, there’s another reason behind his sudden leniency with the two kids.

There’s a small nagging thought in the back of his mind that this might be his last holiday with the brothers. It’s not something he wants to consider, not when he thinks his guardianship for the last three years over the two of them should count for something in court, but he can’t deny the feeling of unease that has him giving in to another request.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, using his spare hand to massage between his brows in an effort to dull his headache. “Fine.”

Yuji cheers happily as all three hats flop onto the counter. The cashier shoots an uncertain glance at Sukuna, who scowls down at the hats at the realization that there’s three of them, which means one’s for him, but he keeps his mouth shut as they scan the last of the items.

With a tap of his card, he tucks it back into his wallet, handing each of his brothers some small, lighter bags, while he grabs the tree.

The walk back to the apartment is grueling between the excited ramblings of Yuji, the overcast sun assaulting Sukuna’s hungover senses and the melting snow that’s giving way to a particularly icy sidewalk. How convenient.

Finally reaching their apartment, Sukuna lobs the tree down on the ground and unceremoniously tosses himself over the couch. At his height, his legs dangle over the edge of the couch, but it’s such a relief to lay down that it feels comfier than ever. He drapes his arm over his eyes to shield himself from the natural light flooding in through the windows as his brothers take it upon themselves to decorate the apartment.

He must have drifted off, because the feeling of Yuji tugging on his hoodie jolts him awake very suddenly. Dazed, he drags his hands over his face harshly before cracking his eyes open. His headache has dulled enough that he can function without the sharp pain of a pounding head, but he could definitely have used some more sleep.

“Will Rume be here this year?” Yuji asks as he tugs at Sukuna’s hood.

“Christ, brat, you’re gonna choke me,” Sukuna gruffs, pulling the collar of his hoodie back down. “Yeah, they’ll be here,” he confirms, carding a hand through his hair. Much like Sukuna, Yuji hasn’t quite gotten Uraume’s name down, but they’ve never seemed to mind.

Yuji bounds off with tinsel in-hand, tossing the glittery strands of foil over a kitchen chair. With a yawn, Sukuna sits up and takes a look around. “Oh, fuck me,” he mutters under his breath as he realizes that the apartment is no longer just overrun with beaded lizards, but there’s now tinsel strung up on every surface that the two boys could reach. The apartment practically looks like a craft store threw up in it.

A muscle in his jaw ticks as he stares at the absolute fire hazard that the stove is looking like right now and he sighs, pushing himself to his feet to get his laptop. The two kids go barreling past him in a fit of laughter, nearly bowling him over if he weren’t so steady on his feet.

“Hey. Hey! No tinsel on the stove, you two know better!” Sukuna barks. They don’t even cast him so much as a glance, but Sukuna can’t be bothered to deal with the issue himself right now. Flopping down on his bed, he leans against his headboard and opens his email.

He scarcely remembers letting you know he got home last night as you’d requested, having passed out shortly after sending the email, but he’s somewhat surprised to find that the timestamp from your email is from late last night as well. You must have stayed awake until he emailed to make sure he was safe. Something stirs in his stomach at the thought, but he quickly pushes it aside.

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:42 AM

Good to hear, Kuna! Get some sleep, thanks for the ice cream!! :)

He lets out a breath of relief at seeing you type his nickname, thanking any god that will listen that you aren’t upset with him anymore. Especially with how much he’d fumbled his shitty apology, completely ill-prepared and inebriated. Even sober, he doesn’t think he would have been prepared, but drunk and high? It’s a miracle he pulled it off at all.

“Kuna?”

Sukuna peers over his laptop to the doorway, his usual disinterested stare falling on a head of messy pink hair. He doesn’t respond, but Yuji knows he has his brother’s attention as crimson eyes look over his hopeful expression.

“The stove is clean.”

“Good.”

“Sorry,” Yuji fiddles guiltily with the hem of his Sonic the Hedgehog shirt. 

Sukuna hums in acknowledgement.

Yuji continues to fiddle with his shirt before hopefully asking if Sukuna is inviting you to Christmas dinner. His eyes are wide and full of optimism as he takes a step towards Sukuna.

“She’s probably spendin’ Christmas with her family,” he replies mildly, reaching up to scratch his jaw.

“But we do dinner on Christmas Eve anyway,” he points out, a tradition started to make sure they could include Uraume.

Sukuna sighs, clicking on the reply button to your email as he mutters out a “fine.” Yuji jogs over to him and leaps up onto Sukuna’s bed, crawling to his side to watch as he types out an email to you. Sukuna huffs, grimacing at his little brother before typing out a message to you.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 1:08 PM

got christmas plans?

“That’s it?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong with that?” He grumbles, the full pain of his headache beginning to return at the judgment from the five-year-old.

“Ask her to come over!” Yuji insists.

Frowning, Sukuna playfully shoves Yuji’s face away from his screen. “Go finish decorating with your brother,” he huffs, watching the giggly kid hop off the bed with a bright expression. “If, and I mean if she’s free, I’ll ask. Got it?”

Yuji nods, running towards the door excitedly before pausing. “Oh! Can we also invite-”

Sukuna sighs as he begins rattling off a couple of Choso’s friends, as well as his own from Kindergarten.

He’s definitely in over his head this year.

–

With one final piece of tape, you secure a red ribbon over a small green box, setting it alongside two bigger, more slender boxes. One for Sukuna, and one for each of the boys.

Piling the gifts into a bag, you set them at the door and finish getting ready.

Your holiday plans had gone very quickly from a video call with your family and a cozy movie night alone with your laptop to a brunch with Suguru’s family, a dinner with Satoru’s, and dinner with Sukuna and the boys. Of course you appreciate Satoru and Suguru for making an effort to include you, but there’s something deeper to the idea of having Christmas dinner with Sukuna that you can’t deny.

Over the past week, you had helped pick up the kids from school a couple of times, so Sukuna had presented this as a way of ‘paying you back’, but your conversations with his little brothers had you thinking there was more to this than just paying you back. Yuji talked non-stop about Christmas movies and a big dinner and how he was beyond excited for the big day. Sukuna seemed tired at the mere concept, but Yuji was adamant that you had to be a part of it, and there’s no world where you’re willing to let down the sweet little boy.

Picking the kids up from school had also given you the opportunity to scheme with Choso about Sukuna’s gift and you’re pretty sure you nailed it.

With a final once-over of your outfit, you nod to yourself in the mirror. A cute red wool Christmas sweater hangs over your frame decorated in stitches that form the shape of reindeer and snowflakes, with a pair of black leggings adorning your legs. You make your way to the door and pull on a pair of knee-high heeled boots to complete the look, pleased with the cute and festive outfit.

When you arrive at Sukuna’s door with some fresh-baked Christmas cookies (those cute Snowman ones from Pillsbury that are to die for), and the gifts for all three brothers tucked into a bag hanging around your arm, you hit the button for their intercom and wait for a response. After a few rings, the buzzer seems to die and the door doesn’t budge. Blinking a few times, you pull out your phone to check you have the right date and time.

December 24th, 3:00 PM.

With a furrowed brow, you juggle the cookies and gifts to hit the buzzer again. Maybe they just didn’t hear it. It rings once, twice, three, four times, and you’re sure it’s about to die when static sounds over the speaker and excited screams can be heard. Not unusual, but it sounds much more chaotic than usual.

“Hello?” Choso’s voice finally sounds in the brisk afternoon winter air.

“Hey Cho, it’s me!”

He doesn’t reply, but the door buzzes as it unlocks for you to make your way up. Before you can knock, Choso pulls the door open for you with a toothy smile, his cheeks rosy.

“Hey, Cho!” You grin and take your boots off as he closes the door behind you and adjusts his absolutely adorable reindeer antlers with sparkling red and green LEDs.

You’ve hardly taken a step into the apartment when the madness of the apartment hits you, quite literally.

Yuji barrels into your leg in a hug, matching antlers to Choso’s adorning his head as he giggles and grins at you. “Merry Christmas!” He cheers, tugging you further into the apartment as you set down your gifts and cookies at the door.

Tinsel is spread across every surface below waist-level, which makes you think the boys did most of the decorating, while a small tree sits on the floor near the TV, lit with sparkling red and green lights. Garland is spread across light fixtures and the warm glow of colorful fairy lights illuminates the dining room. You hadn’t taken Sukuna as the type to decorate to the nines, but it’s heartwarming to see just how much cheer and spirit is spread throughout the otherwise fairly dark apartment.

The real shock as you’re pulled into the living space, is the sheer amount of people all crammed into the living room. Mostly kids between Yuji and Choso’s ages, and one other person who seems to be around the same age as you with snowy white hair, while Sukuna sits on the floor. Displeasure twists his every feature as his youngest brother runs back up to him and a girl around his age with short brown hair. The little boy takes a string of red garland from the girl, clambering over the tattooed man as he strings it up around his broad shoulders. A couple of boys chuckle at the sight of Sukuna decorated like a Christmas tree from where they sit playing MarioKart.

Sukuna grinds his teeth, his jaw clenched as he just barely manages to tolerate his little brother’s antics. You giggle at the sight, pulling out your phone to snap a photo of the sweet interaction, catching Sukuna’s attention finally.

“Don’t,” he hisses at you, fists clenching at his sides.

Biting your lip to conceal your smile, you hold your phone up to him, snapping a photo just in time before Sukuna’s pushing off the ground suddenly. The action of his chest and shoulders rising pulls the garland taut before it splits under the tension, falling from his frame to the dismay of the kids.

Holding your phone tight to your chest, you gasp playfully at the realization that Sukuna’s darting towards you, intent on deleting the photo. You duck quickly away from him, unable to hide your smile as you slide into the dining room where Choso and a couple of friends seem to be playing with Pokemon cards.

“Delete it,” Sukuna growls as he closes the distance between you in a few short strides. An unceremonious squeak parts your lips as he catches up to you and slips a strong arm around your middle, using his other hand to reach for your phone and hold it up to you. You push against him, but he’s not budging even an inch. The feeling of his chiseled abs pressing against your back is dizzying, and you almost forget why he has you tucked into his warmth, until he hisses out another “delete it, brat.”

“It’s so cute!” You protest, wriggling against him in an attempt to slip from his grasp.

Sukuna falters for a split second, swallowing hard as your endeavors to escape from him has your ass brushing against him just right and he prays you don’t feel his body involuntarily reacting to you as his cock twitches in his jeans. Blinking, he scrambles to think about something unpleasant to counteract the thoughts beginning to race through his mind. You twist in his grasp, and he’s reminded of what he’s doing in the first place, pulled back to the present. “It’s not fucking cute. Delete it.”

“It’ll be a good memory for Yuji and Choso!” You insist, putting your full weight against Sukuna’s arm that has you caged against him. He doesn’t move a muscle, not needing to so much as tense to keep you up, he’s just that strong.

His brow furrows as he considers your words, finally huffing as he releases you. With your full weight being supported by him just seconds ago, you barely manage to catch yourself before you go tumbling to the floor, grinning triumphantly when you find your footing.

“If that sees the light of day, I ain’t joining you for lunch anymore,” Sukuna grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Standing up straight once more, you tilt your head innocently up at him. “It won’t,” you promise, tucking your phone into a pocket on the side of your leggings.

With a frown, Sukuna rounds the couch and takes a seat beside his friend with white hair cut into a bob. You follow after him, plopping down on his other side. He states your name, casting a glance between you and them. “This is Uraume,” he tells you.

Your eyes light up with recognition, grinning as you wave politely.

They return your wave with a kind smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” they comment with a knowing look to Sukuna that he shoots down with a scornful frown. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” You grin, happy to finally be able to meet one of Sukuna’s friends. He’s slowly allowing you further into his little world, giving you a piece of him that very few get to see. Though, looking back at the door where your bag of gifts resides, it occurs to you that you had no idea there would be seven kids and three adults here, and you haven’t brought nearly enough for everyone. “Had I known you would be here, I would have brought you something for the holidays,” you comment sheepishly.

“Did Yuji not tell you?” Sukuna arches a brow questioningly as he leans back into the couch.

You shake your head. “No, was he supposed to?” You cast a glance at the little boy wrapping the torn garland around his friend, the two giggling up a storm.

Sukuna sighs. “I figured he would have, the kid wouldn’t shut up about today and Uraume’s been a part of our holidays for a few years now.”

“It’s fine, anyway!” They pipe in, shaking their head. “I don’t need a gift and I certainly wasn’t expecting one.”

“And don’t worry about the kids. They’re all headin’ out for their own dinners soon, but Yu wanted a big Christmas this year, so…” Sukuna trails off, his gaze flitting between both brothers. You know what’s going through his mind, you can see the hollow distance resurfacing in his eyes as his mind grapples with the idea of this being their last Christmas together.

But you aren’t about to let him give up without a fight, so you snap him back to the present with a prod to his shoulder. “So, what are you cooking?”

“I’m not,” Sukuna replies, casting a glance at Uraume, who explains that every year their gift to Sukuna and the boys is a full Christmas dinner, though they replace the turkey with chicken given that they’re in college and that’s one pricey bird.

The afternoon carries on with excited laughter from the kids while you and Uraume learn about one another, while also poking fun at Sukuna, who’s relatively quiet as usual. The kids’ parents slowly begin to pick them up over the course of the evening, and Uraume occupies themself with cooking as the sun sets over the horizon. A merry glow casts over the apartment as fairy and holiday lights shine over the tinsel and shimmer along the walls.

Though not exactly Christmassy, you can also see what Sukuna meant at Gojo’s party when he mentioned his house was overrun with bead lizards. They seem to be strewn across nearly every surface as well, with tinsel tied to them like a second tail.

As the last of the kids file out, Yuji and Choso turn to the Gamecube that Sukuna has long forgotten is yours. You prefer it this way anyway, for it to get some use from the kids than to rot in your storage.

“Have you spoken to, uh, Kento?” Sukuna asks curiously over the sounds of clanking pots and utensils and video game music.

You nod. “He’s willing to help. He has something for me from my parents anyway, so he said we can meet at a cafe when he gets back and he’ll have his friend tag along.”

Sukuna raises a brow. “Does he know he’s doing me a favor, not you?”

“He does!”

“I’m sure he was thrilled to hear it,” Sukuna grumbles, slumping into the couch with his arms crossed over his chest as he stares blankly at the little tree on the floor. His gifts to the kids sit on the floor, nearly blocking the tree itself given its small stature.

“He’ll come around,” you assure him. “He hasn’t really had a chance to get to know you.”

Sukuna hums, his gaze remaining trained on the little Christmas tree. “He’s from your hometown?”

You nod. “Him and Haibara.”

“Mm.” Sukuna drums his fingers over his bicep. “Why didn’t you go home with them?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you join him in staring at the Christmas tree, suddenly finding its intrigue. “I couldn’t afford to.”

Crimson irises tear away from the tree to take in your bittersweet expression. He knows that feeling all-too-well, but it’s never occurred to him that it could be a sentiment you would share. He’s never made any assumptions that you’re rich, and although he has no clue how much or little it costs for you to get home, he did assume that wouldn’t stop you from spending Christmas with your family.

“Mm.” He supposes maybe you aren’t as different as he once thought. Perhaps you aren’t from different worlds, but rather two sides of the same coin. “‘M sorry.”

You turn your attention to him, your usual cheerful expression taking over again. Always looking on the bright side, like a ray of sunshine that seems to find its way through Sukuna’s darkness to light up his life.

He’s only known you for a couple of months, but he wonders when you became such a staple in his life, one that brings warmth to an otherwise cold and hardened man.

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “There’s always next year.” Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you regard the two boys playing Mario Party. “It’s nice to be here, anyway.”

Sukuna follows your gaze, his eyes befalling a game of Mario Party nearing the end that he fears will also end in tears if he knows anything about that game. He blinks a couple of times, taking in the thought that this is the first time in a while that his house has been so filled with life.

One year after another his holidays had diminished in size, beginning with the kids’ mother moving for a job, followed shortly by his father passing away. Along with the passing of his father, Sukuna’s mental health had followed, and what resulted was a Christmas so hollow that he struggles to remember that year, hidden deep within the carefully guarded recesses of his mind.

Yet when he needed them most, Uraume had made their way into his life and bit by bit, they had helped him pick up the pieces and find his footing. Just when he needed you most, you found your way into his life as well, though you were little more than the source of his disdain at first. He considers himself lucky that you’re so resilient when it comes to his snide demeanor, because for the first time in a long time, something occurs to Sukuna.

You and Uraume may not fill the same roles that having parents would have, but you’re both important figures in the kids’ lives and they need the positivity that you bring that Sukuna doesn’t provide. He’s aware he isn’t the best influence for two impressionable young kids, something that he wrestles with daily, but one reassurance remains a beacon when he finds himself doubting his abilities.

Your declaration that he’s their hero.

He’d never considered it before, but he sees it in the way Choso worries for him and understands, even at such a young age, that Sukuna is struggling. He sees it in the way Yuji runs to him to show him the latest basketball trick he’s learned.

So he’s gotta be doing something right.

After an extended silence, Sukuna finally finds the footing to reply to you. “We’re glad to have ya, princess.”

Uraume begins setting out dishes, requesting help as they work on the dinner’s finishing touches. The three of you work together to set the table, complete with a little candle in the center as the smell of chicken floods the apartment.

You narrowly avoid a meltdown by the looks of it as Choso is winning Mario Party by a landslide when Sukuna calls them over, asking them to shut off the TV for the night. Bounding to the table, you let the kids pile their plates high with chicken, stuffing, and potatoes, both completely avoiding anything that so much as touched vegetables. With a scowl, Sukuna reaches over to scoop some veggies onto their plates, met with a guilty frown from Choso and a groan from Yuji.

Once their plates are full, Sukuna insists that you and Uraume go first before he loads up his own plate with enough food to feed a whole family. You can only imagine what the grocery bill looks like for two growing boys and the wall of muscle that is Sukuna.

“This is all amazing, Uraume.”

They grin at your compliment, a warm blush dusting their cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Where’d you learn to cook? I know you’re in the history program with Sukuna, but I’d believe you if you said you were in the culinary program,” you continue, reveling in the flavor of the potatoes.

The shade of their reddened cheeks darkens and they chuckle lightly. “I appreciate that, but I’ll leave the culinary degree to Choso,” they smile, casting a glance at the little boy whose eyes sparkle at the mention of a culinary degree. You suppose that explains why he loves to follow you around in the kitchen so much. “I’m self-taught. I learned during our first year when I got sick of ramen and eating out.”

“I wish I had that same dedication,” you giggle, shaking your head as you go on to mention that the amount of times you’ve had eggs this week should be criminal.

Sukuna shoves his face full of food as he quietly listens to you and Uraume chat, while Yuji chimes in every so often. He can’t remember the last time he had a meal that wasn’t takeout or something he cooked mainly for the boys, who could be a bit picky, which often meant he was having the same few meals with a protein smoothie to tide him over. Apart from the leftover mac and cheese you cooked a little while ago, he thinks the last time might have been a full year ago to the day.

He doesn’t even notice that he’s smiling until you nudge him. “Doing alright, Kuna?”

He raises a brow questioningly, his mouth full of potatoes.

You smile, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it. How’s your dinner?” You decide not to push him, your heart full when his expression eases as he sits up, leaning back in a relaxed manner.

“Fuckin’ great,” he mumbles through a bite of chicken, going back in for more immediately.

“How many times have I told you to stop swearing in front of your brothers?” Uraume scolds, a playful air to their words.

Sukuna huffs, rolling his eyes. “If I start countin’ how many times you tell me not to swear or smoke, we’ll be here all day.”

“They have a point,” you poke fun at him with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas, get off my case,” he grumbles, leaning over the table.

“Quitting smoking would be a suitable Christmas gift for me, you know,” Uraume points out with a mischievous grin.

“Your gift,” Sukuna growls, no real bite to his words as he points his fork at them, “is learnin’ how to drive. Take it or leave it.” He shoves the piece of chicken into his mouth with a scowl in their direction, grunting when Uraume laughs.

“I suppose I’ll take the driving lessons,” they sigh humorously as though they’re settling.

Sukuna’s narrowed eyes are met with laughter from the table as conversation flows naturally throughout dinner. By the end of the meal, Yuji is practically vibrating with excitement as he casts glances towards the tree where a few wrapped gifts are sitting. Even Choso seems a bit restless, shifting constantly between sitting cross-legged on his chair and kicking his feet.

The moment Sukuna’s second plate of food is clean, Yuji pipes in. “Can we open presents?”

“Let me clean up, Yu,” Sukuna sighs, pushing his hair back from his forehead. It seems a moment’s rest is too much to ask for with two eager kids awaiting presents. Splaying his hands on the table, Sukuna pushes himself to his feet, piling all of the plates onto one to carry to the kitchen.

You gather empty glasses and follow after Sukuna, setting the dishes on the counter.

“Go sit,” Sukuna mumbles without casting you a glance as he rinses off plates and loads them into the dishwasher.

“I don’t mind, really!” You insist, bounding back to the table to grab the leftover potatoes. When you spin around, you’re met with Sukuna’s chest, startling at his close proximity. He pulls the bowl of potatoes from your hand, smirking as you purse your lips.

“Sit.” With his spare hand, he presses down on your shoulder until you’re back in your seat.

Uraume stifles a laugh, exchanging a glance with you as your cheeks warm. “Every year, I cook and he cleans up afterwards,” they explain. Clearly, he intends to keep it that way, giving you a chance to get to know Uraume better.

“How long have you known each other?” You ask as Sukuna continues to clean up, gathering the leftover food into tupperware to keep in the fridge while the two kids talk amongst themselves.

They tilt their head in thought. “Around four years now, I sat beside him on the first day of History 109.” They lean back in their chair, resting their hands in their lap with a chuckle. “He drank my coffee.”

“I thought it was mine,” Sukuna groans from the kitchen.

Uraume smiles wider. “I’m not sure how you thought that. You were drinking black coffee and mine had cream and sugar.”

“I thought classes started at ten, not eight,” he huffs as he pulls more dishes from the table “I was tired.”

“I suppose you needed the caffeine more than I did,” Uraume laughs, their eyes crinkling gleefully at the corners. “But it did mean that he owed me a coffee,” they continue their explanation. “Our friends got along well, and here we are.”

“God knows Toji needed someone to keep him in line,” Sukuna mutters.

“Toji… you mentioned he got you kicked out of Gojo’s once?” You question with a tilt of your head as Sukuna clears the last of the dishes from the table.

Uraume hums. “Sounds like the right Toji. He can be a handful. We can introduce you when classes are back in.”

“I’d like tha-”

“Kunaaaa, can we open presents nowwww?” Yuji interrupts, doing his very best to remain patient.

You giggle at the poor kid, who’s just about bouncing off the walls like a ping pong ball at the rate he’s vibrating in his seat.

Sukuna sighs, shutting the last tupperware lid over the remaining vegetables. “Go wait in the living room.”

Both boys’ chairs scrape the floor as they dash into the living room, excitedly yelling about who gets to open their gifts first.

The tattooed brother watches them with mild interest, returning to the table where he leans over the edge on his hands. “Can you entertain them for a minute?” He glances between you and Uraume. You nod in unison and watch as Sukuna pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Sliding one from the pack, he balances it between his lips and opens a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out a box of matches and striking one.

His cigarette burns like a lone star in the night sky against the backdrop of the twinkling apartment. He inhales as he whips the match through the air to put it out, tossing it in the sink to cool as he waits until he’s on the balcony to exhale smoke.

Before he shuts the door, he frustratedly murmurs something about having lost his dad’s lighter. The door closes with a thud, and he leans over the balcony, his back visibly rising and falling as he sighs.

With the kids excitedly seated in front of the tree seemingly entertaining themselves, Uraume uses the opportunity to turn towards you with a more serious expression, though they remain smiling.

“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for him. I know he won’t ask for help, but he needs it. He doesn’t seem as burnt out lately.”

You return their kind smile, nodding. “He doesn’t make it easy, but I’m trying.”

They roll their eyes, chuckling. “He certainly doesn’t, does he?” As their laughter dies down, they cast a glance at the kids. “I’m surprised he told you about his brothers though.”

Shaking your head, you blow air from your nose in a wry laugh. “He didn’t. I ran into him after he didn’t show up to work on our project.”

“Oh? In that case, I’m surprised he’s let you in at all.”

“You and me both,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I think most of our friendship has hinged on the fact that he thinks he owes me.”

“Sounds familiar,” Uraume quips, getting to their feet as Sukuna makes the motions of putting out his cigarette outside. He rolls his shoulders backwards in an effort to stretch his muscles before stepping back inside. You follow after Uraume, quickly making a motion to grab the gifts, as well as your forgotten cookies.

“Oh! I- um- brought some cookies,” you hold out the tupperware as you make your way into the living room, setting the container down on the coffee table with the bag of gifts at your feet.

“That’s so kind of you!” Uraume delights, opening the box.

“They’re nothing compared to your cooking, but they were always a tradition back home for me,” you smile to yourself, heat rising to your cheeks.

Finishing the cookie in only a couple of bites, they shake their head. “They’re delicious, and it’s still very kind of you.”

You find yourself grinning, glancing at Sukuna who hums in agreement as he takes one as well. The brothers are close behind as they practically scarf the treats down, their eyes shining.

“Alright you brats, there’s one for each of ya from me, and one to share.”

“Wait!” Choso cries out, scrambling to his feet as he runs down the hall. You watch curiously as he rounds the corner with three santa hats. Adjusting his antlers, he holds them out to you, Uraume, and his older brother, met with two ‘thank you’s, and an adamant ‘no’.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which of the three of you is scowling down at the hat held in his hands.

You nudge his bicep with your elbow, a gleeful smile donning your lips. “C’mon, Kuna. Just wear it for an hour. Look how excited they are.”

Sukuna follows your gaze, deep red irises flicking between the two kids before resting on the hopeful look his middle brother wears. With a sigh, he gives in to both your and his brother’s wishes, pulling the hat on over his tousled pink hair. Even with his familiar grumpy scowl, he looks surprisingly cute in the Christmas spirit.

Though you’re sure if he realized that, the hat would disappear in an instant, so you keep that secret to yourself.

“One at a time. Youngest goes first.”

Yuji scrambles excitedly with the first of his gifts, tearing at wrapping paper around a gift box that’s practically his size. Tossing the paper aside, he flips the box towards him, eyes wide at the five-year-old sized basketball. He gasps in excitement, holding it up triumphantly. “A new basketball!” He proclaims, immediately trying to tear it from the cardboard.

“Slow down, Yu. There’s one more thing in there.”

Yuji curiously peers down at his lap, now noticing the black and red material he’d missed previously. He holds it up, gaping at the realization that Sukuna’s gotten him a custom jersey with his last name scrawled in big red text across the back with his favorite team’s logo on the front.

“No WAY!” He cries out excitedly, standing up and immediately pulling it on over his t-shirt. It’s a bit big on him, but Sukuna figured it made the most sense to get him a bigger size given how fast he’d been growing. “Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou!” Yuji cries, hopping up and down excitedly.

Sukuna’s chest swells at the sight of what he hopes is a Christmas living up to his brother’s dreams while you and Uraume grin at his sides. Even by his own standards, he thinks he could enjoy Christmas if it’s like this every year.

Like a shot to his chest, his mind suddenly reminds him of the impending lawsuit, but he pushes the thought aside, subconsciously pressing his knee against yours.

You cast him a glance at the feeling of his leg knocking against yours, but you can’t make out whether he’s aware of how close you are. Your cheeks warm as you search for a meaning behind the action, but Sukuna’s mirthful expression gives nothing away about his lingering doubts. Likely thinking too much into the action, you let it go.

“Your turn, Cho.”

Sukuna points to a smaller gift wrapped as neatly as Sukuna could manage (which is to say not neatly at all) in snowflake-covered light blue wrapping paper.

Choso grabs the gift, much more timidly opening it. He pulls out a set of kid-sized knives along with a pan sized appropriately for him. “Thank you, Kuna!” He grins, testing out the weight of the pan in his hand.

“Be careful with those things,” his elder brother mutters as Choso examines the knife set. “One more thing in there for you too, Cho.”

Deep brown eyes widen and he peers down so suddenly his antlers nearly fall from his head. Sure enough, beneath some tissue paper at the bottom of the box is a black apron, also a bit big for him, with his name embroidered across the front in deep purple.

In a much more subtle show of gratefulness than his little brother, Choso holds it up with a look of wonder, running his thumb over his name. In disbelief, he too gets to his feet and throws it on over his head, tying it at the back.

Choso’s grin widens and he runs up to Sukuna, practically hopping over the coffee table in an attempt to get to him. “Thank you, Kuna,” he repeats himself again as he clings to his brother’s sweatshirt.

“Mm.” Sukuna ruffles his hair with a small smile. “Go open your last gift with your brother,” he urges. “And you two better share.”

Choso hops back towards his little brother as the two excitedly unwrap their last gift from Sukuna. Within a small box sits a copy of Sonic Advance for their Gameboy.

“No way!” Yuji proclaims excitedly, turning back to Sukuna. “You’re the best, thank you!” He cries, scrambling to his feet to hug his brother. Choso follows suit, each kid finding a place on either side of the tattooed man.

He blows a breath out through his nose, smirking as he pulls them in. In a rare moment of genuine happiness, he hugs them close. You cast a glance at Uraume, who seems just as happy to be a part of this moment with Sukuna’s little family. They may not be perfect, but they care a great deal for one another, that much is clear.

Uraume leans forward and hands the boys a card. “This is for both of you.”

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Sukuna mumbles to his friend. “The dinner is more than enough.”

“I didn’t have to,” they agree, “but I wanted to.”

Choso tears the envelope open, reading the card out to his brother before peering down at the three papers that fall from the envelope. “Sonic the Hedgehog 3 movie tickets?” He gasps with wide eyes, looking up at Sukuna.

“Tell me the third ticket is for you,” he grumbles to Uraume as Yuji hops to his feet to hug them.

“Nope! I checked with both of your work schedules, you can make it,” they grin at him, bursting into laughter at the grimace that pulls Sukuna’s lips into a frown.

As the cheers and laughter dies down and the brothers make their way back over to the tree after hugging Uraume, you pull out two long, slender boxes and hand one to each kid.

Sukuna sighs, his brow knit tightly together as he avoids your gaze. “You didn’t have to do all this either. You do more than enough for them too.”

“It’s Christmas, Kuna. I wanted to.” You shrug. “Open them at the same time,” you instruct, watching Choso gingerly rip the paper off as Yuji is already eagerly tossing it aside. With wide eyes and gasps, they both hold up Nerf guns, a purple one for Choso and a red one for Yuji.

Sukuna groans as the two boys exchange an excited look, showing their gifts off to one another. “You’re gonna give me a damn headache, woman,” he grumbles, leaning forward on his palm with his elbow resting on his knee.

Yuji bounces to his feet, running to give you a hug as he thanks you over and over, followed shortly by Choso. You wrap your arms around them both, rubbing both of their backs softly. Adjusting your hat so it doesn’t fall off of your head as they pull back, you’re about to grab your gift for Sukuna when Choso gingerly shuffles in place in front of you.

“We- um- have something for you guys too,” he proclaims in a voice barely above a mumble. With a shy smile, he runs off to grab what you can only assume is the gift, leaving the three of you in an air of confusion.

Yuji returns first, followed shortly by Choso. Hidden in their fists are three woven friendship bracelets each. Your lips part, forming an ‘o’ as you gasp at the sight. The two boys are positively too cute.

Holding out your wrist, you watch with tear-filled eyes as Yuji’s tongue sticks out while he ties a red and white striped bracelet around your wrist. It’s the type of bracelet that isn’t coming off anytime soon, but you don’t mind one bit. You’ll treasure it for as long as it’ll stay on your wrist.

Yuji moves on to Sukuna with a red and black checkered bracelet while Choso ties a purple and blue striped bracelet around Uraume’s wrist, his face scrunched in concentration. Unbeknownst to him, Sukuna’s knee presses harder into yours, a somber look crossing his eyes for a split second as he stares down at the checkered bracelet soundly wrapped around his wrist. He swallows hard, twisting his wrist to better see the woven jewelry.

With a glance to either side, he watches with a barely-contained frown as Choso ties a purple and black checkered bracelet just below Yuji’s on his wrist, moving along to add a purple and white striped one to yours.

Both you and Uraume grin, while you obviously fight tears of joy at the simple, yet meaningful gift. Sukuna's stomach seems to twist and he forces down the bile that threatens to come up, chewing on his lower lip.

The idea that this could be the last gift he ever receives from his brothers is fresh in his mind, plaguing his thoughts like an endless nightmare. His muscles tense as he returns his gaze to the two checkered bracelets around his wrist, one much cleaner looking than the other, but that’s not what matters to him.

With a tight-lipped smile that barely masks his underlying anxieties, he’s just about to open his mouth to thank the kids when you speak up first.

“This is so sweet, you two are so talented!” You beam, eyes glassy as you continue to fight tears.

Your knee gently brushes his, a silent acknowledgment that you recognize the paralyzing distance crossing over his eyes. Your quiet offering of support doesn’t go unnoticed and Sukuna uses the opportunity to compose himself. With a sharp intake of breath, he forces a smile that reads more real than the tight-lipped one he previously wore.

“Thanks, kiddos.”

“They look wonderful,” Uraume agrees.

Returning to their gifts, the two kids distract themselves by tearing into whatever cardboard they can get their hands on in an effort to free the basketball and Nerf dart guns. As they busy themselves with their new gifts, you pull out one more box for Sukuna with a cute little bow wrapped around the gift box.

He peers down at the gift as you hold it out to him, shaking his head.

“I don’t need anything,” he grumbles, his mind still somewhat fuzzy as he grapples with the stress of the lawsuit.

“Just take it, Kuna.” You hold it out expectantly to him.

He sighs, taking the box into his hands with a glance up at your timid expression. Pulling at the ribbon, he unwraps it and slowly opens the box, his lips twitching into a frown as he picks his Type O Negative shirt up from inside the giftbox.

“My own shirt,” he comments with a sarcastic edge to his tone at what he’s sure is a joke gift, though he’s actually somewhat relieved you didn’t get him anything.

You giggle at his disdainful expression. “You’re just as bad as your brothers. Unwrap the shirt.”

His brows knit together as he slowly unwraps the shirt. Hidden between the layers of fabric is none other than his dad’s lighter, with the cap back in place, shining like the day Sukuna pulled it from his father’s belongings as though it’s been freshly polished.

His jaw subtly falls open as he drops his shirt into his lap, flipping the cap of the lighter open and watching as he turns it and the flame comes to life. He blinks a few times, his throat tightening as he turns the lighter, the ‘Itadori’ engraving no longer dull and barely visible, but full of life and a stark contrast to the rest of the metal.

Shutting the cap, he runs his tongue over his lower lip once before biting down a bit too harshly on the plush skin, a metallic tang penetrating his taste buds. He pays it no mind, finally looking up at you.

His expression is unreadable and your stomach flutters with nerves as his words seem to fail him when he opens his mouth, fiddling with the lighter.

“You fixed it?”

You nod. “I mean, a professional did, but yeah. I hope- I thought you might appreciate it after the whole lighting yourself on fire thing.” Your voice is quiet, wavering slightly. You catch a questioning gaze from Uraume, but they don’t dare interrupt the moment.

Sukuna stares down at the lighter for another moment, flipping it again. Your stomach does a flip when he rubs his face harshly and you can’t tell whether he’s frustrated with you or thankful.

He’s so damn near tears that it takes him a moment to compose himself before he lowers his hand back down the lighter. “Shit, princess,” he mutters, his throat raw with emotions that he can’t identify.

Unable to tell if that’s a good or bad reaction, you wrap your arms around yourself, tilting your head. “I hope it’s- um-” you stammer, trying to find words, but it’s not like you can undo what’s been done to the lighter, having taken a leap of faith to begin with, even if the gift was Choso-approved. “Sorry, I-”

“Shut up.” Sukuna’s tone isn’t nearly as assertive as usual as he shakes his head at the lighter, unable to meet your gaze out of fear that his eyes might be red again, though this time not from weed. “I appreciate it.”

Your brow raises and a smile finds your lips as relief washes over you. “Yeah?”

He blows a humorous breath out through his nose, nodding. “It means a lot.”

Your smile stretches to a grin that you exchange with Uraume, who seems to know the meaning behind your gift just as well as you do.

“For the record, Uraume’s still right, you should quit,” you point out, earning a sharp stare. Giggling, you nudge his shoulder playfully. “But I know what that means to you, so I thought- you know,” you shrug, thankful you got the right impression from the fact that he continued to use the lighter long after it had broken.

“You two are pains in my ass,” Sukuna huffs, shoving the lighter into his pocket as he finally finds himself back in the moment as the source of your teasing. Reaching up to scratch his chest, he leans back against the couch again. “When did you nab my lighter anyway? It disappeared on a night when I don’t think I saw ya.”

You shoot a smirk at his middle brother, who’s carefully loading foam darts into his toy gun, completely oblivious to the conversation going on between the adults.

“I see,” he hums. Your accomplice glances up as he feels three pairs of eyes on him, tilting his head curiously until Yuji grabs his attention and his impending question is long forgotten. Swallowing, Sukuna gets to his feet. “I have somethin’ for you too.”

He disappears around the corner towards his bedroom, and you’re left exchanging a glance with Uraume, who shrugs. You hadn’t expected anything from him, simply grateful to have company in the absence of your family over the holidays.

You glance back in the direction of the hall when his door clicks shut and he re-emerges, a single piece of paper held carefully in front of him. He sits between you and Uraume once more, turning to face you with a furrowed brow. “Here.”

Gingerly taking the page from him, your jaw drops at the sight. In his traditional graphite and charcoal style, an artistic rendition of you smiling at something off to the side of the page’s line of sight is scrawled across the paper. A clear amount of care has gone into capturing each of your features, deliberate shading and lines framing your complexion.

Bringing a hand up to cover your gaping mouth, you barely manage to whisper, “you… drew me?”

Sukuna’s somewhat glad you haven’t looked up at him yet, his face burning red hot as he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “You loved the project piece so much, I figured…” he trails off, staring down at the piece in your hand when he catches a glimpse of your trembling hand holding the paper.

You chew on your lip as tears prick in your eyes, butterflies threatening to burst at the seams in your stomach as your heart practically rolls over itself in your chest. Whether he returns your feelings or not, one thing is beyond clear.

Sukuna cares a great deal about you, to have poured so much time and effort into something like this, but one more thought lingers in the back of your mind. A thought that has you teetering dangerously close to spiraling into thoughts of uncertainty.

Sukuna thinks you’re beautiful. The proof is in the care that went into each stroke of his pencil and smudge of charcoal to portray you just as he sees you.

“Shit, are you…?” Sukuna mutters when he hears you sniffle, taken aback when you set the art aside and leap forward to hug him. His arms stiffen in the air as he stares blankly at the wall, uncertainty clouding his actions.

“Thank you, Kuna,” you mumble meekly, tears stinging at the edge of your tone as you do what you can to hold them back.

Silence hangs between you, interrupted only by the sounds of clicking plastic as the boys figure out their Nerf guns. Uraume smiles from behind Sukuna at the sight of their friend struggling to wrap his mind around you hugging him. It takes a moment, but gradually his muscles relax and he wraps his arms around you in return.

“Mhm.”

Your eyes flicker open, catching Uraume’s warm smile as you pull back from Sukuna, whose gaze trails to the art. Following his line of sight, you pick the piece back up and hold it gently in your lap.

“It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply, when a stray foam dart hits him square in the jaw and tumbles down to the ground at his feet.

“Watch it, brat,” Sukuna glowers at Yuji, whose toy gun is pointed a little too precisely at his forehead for his liking.

Unfortunately for the tattooed man, this doesn’t deter his little brother one bit.

With a plastic click, another foam dart is sent careening through the air, colliding with the man’s forearm as he lifts it to block the attack. “Brat!” He barks, getting to his feet and stepping over you. A giggle and pattering of small feet against the hardwood can be heard as Yuji skitters around the corner and out of sight.

With a sharp glare and intent to chase his brother, Sukuna stops, turning to you and bending down to your seated height. He points an accusatory finger at you, his face close enough to make your mouth go dry.

“This is your fucking fault,” he hisses, sans any malice. Despite the fire behind his glare and the accusation dripping from his tone, you spot the telltale sign that Sukuna’s having fun. His lip quirks just the tiniest bit at the corner, giving him away as he straightens and grabs the wall to send himself flying around the corner after his brother. “C’mere you little shit!” He calls.

“No swearing!” Uraume reminds him, but their reminder is met only with cacophonous laughter and the sound of foam darts hitting the wall at a near alarming pace. Yuji comes sliding around the corner, one hand tightly gripping his antlers in an effort to keep them on his head. He scrambles away from the foam darts that bounce harmlessly off the ground behind him before diving towards the couch.

You set the art in your lap on the coffee table before the youngest Itadori can clamber into your lap for protection.

The plastic sound of a gun cocking rings in the air as Sukuna points it squarely at you. He sports his usual scowl, but amusement swirls in his eyes.

“She ain’t gonna protect you, brat,” Sukuna threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare shoot us, would you?” You stick out your lower lip pleadingly, pouting as you play along.

Without missing a beat, a dart collides with your cheek.

“Ow!” You gasp in disbelief, although the dart didn’t truly hurt you at all. “Okay, so maybe you would,” you grumble, rubbing at your cheek. “Choso! Shoot him!” You point at the oldest brother.

Choso, who had previously only been watching, hesitates for a moment as he glances between you and the oldest sibling, before firing a shot at Sukuna’s arm. Sukuna’s attention is pulled to Choso, his teeth grit as he fires back a shot at the boy’s shoulder.

“Run, Yu!” You whisper to the little boy, who bounds down off the couch and into the kitchen in a fit of giggles.

Choso gets to his feet and runs into the hallway as the three brothers engage in a Nerf war, bringing a smile to both your and Uraume’s faces.

“I can’t help but feel as though you should have gotten one for Sukuna as well,” they laugh.

You settle into the center of the couch where Sukuna had been seated, laughing alongside them. “Seems like it.” Turning your attention towards them, you shake your head. “I’ll be honest, I thought Nerf guns would annoy him.”

“Oh, they will. I give it a week,” Uraume pointedly nods and you find yourself laughing alongside them again.

“A week is too generous.”

“A day, perhaps?” They laugh.

As the air between you settles, warmth washes over you. You’ve seen small moments like this in the apartment, ones where the three brothers are all smiles and laughter, even Sukuna, but this one seems different somehow. Less fleeting, as though the burden and weight of Sukuna’s responsibilities aren’t bearing down quite as hard on him right now, even if it’s only for a night.

You don’t believe in miracles, and certainly not Christmas miracles, but if they existed, you think this is what it would look like.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.”

You turn your head towards Uraume, tilting your head. “Never?”

They take a moment to contemplate it before shaking their head, their lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s been playing the role of parent so long that I think he sometimes forgets he’s their brother.”

A pang of sadness floods you as a stray dart flies across the kitchen, clanking as it hits a glass that didn’t fit in the dishwasher before it falls to the floor. You’ve seen glimpses here and there of the version of Sukuna that gets to be just a brother and student, it’s hard to believe it’s a side of him that Uraume’s never seen.

“You know,” they comment, setting their elbow along the back of the couch as they lean on their palm, “he seems a lot more relaxed these days. Is that your doing?”

“I guess, maybe,” you shrug. “I’ve been helping take care of his brothers here and there.”

They smile. “I’m glad he has another reliable person to lean on.”

Heat crawls up to your cheeks, but before you can reply, Sukuna trudges into the living room and slumps into the couch with a huff.

“You know, suddenly the Sonic movie doesn’t seem so bad,” he grumbles with a sly look in your direction.

You roll your eyes playfully, nudging his knee with your own. “Oh, don’t act like you aren’t having fun.”

He doesn’t reply, reaching up to pull his Santa hat off and set it aside, running a hand through his hair. He lets out a breath, leaning his head back on the couch. There’s a sense of calm to the silence held between the three of you that Sukuna’s grateful for. A certain understanding that even if only for a moment, he needs this escape.

“Thanks. Both of you.” In an uncharacteristically serious tone, he folds his arms over his chest, relaxing into the couch as he spreads his legs in typical man fashion. “I think Yuji got what he wanted.”

There’s an undertone to his words that you catch, one that gives away what he’s thinking, but before he can slip into a distant world of worries, you set a comforting hand on his bicep. His eyes flicker down to your hand, his expression unreadable.

“Merry Christmas, Sukuna. You too, Uraume.”

He blows air through his nose in a wry laugh, his expression relaxed as your hand drops back to your side. Carefully moving the art of you aside, he kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

“Merry Christmas.”

With a content sigh, Uraume gets to their feet. “I think it’s time I head out. I have an early breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oh! So do I,” you follow suit, beginning to gather your things. “Do you need a ride?” You ask, having taken note of the fact that Sukuna’s gift to them was driving lessons.

“That would be great,” they reply with a smile as you both begin gathering your things. Sukuna calls the kids over to say goodbye before you leave as you pull your coat over your Christmas sweater.

Yuji thanks you both, adorably referring to Uraume as ‘Rume’ as he hugs them, before hugging you. Choso follows suit, both pairs of auburn eyes shining brilliantly as they stand at Sukuna’s feet.

“Thank you for the bracelets,” you grin, kneeling down to Yuji and Choso’s level. They both have three matching woven bracelets on each of their wrists in true friendship bracelet fashion, and quite honestly you could cry at how sweet that is.

Yuji leans in to hug you again, pulling back with a bounce to his step as he cries out “Merry Christmas!”

Choso repeats the merriment more quietly, waving at you both.

“Don’t forget your cookies,” Sukuna hands you the tupperware, but you shake your head.

“If I eat nineteen cookies on my own, I’ll be sick,” you giggle. “Let these two have them.”

Yuji excitedly rocks forwards and backwards on his feet at the prospect of having nineteen cookies that his oldest brother is almost guaranteed to not want.

Sukuna sighs, grimacing as his hand falls back to his side when you refuse the cookies, but he keeps his mouth shut.

It’s Christmas, he supposes his brothers can have some cookies, so he relents.

“Got your gift?”

You nod, unable to help the shy grin on your lips as you hold up the bag that the art is safely sitting at the bottom of.

“Good. Lemme know when you’re both home.”

“I’ll email you,” you confirm.

“Get a phone, Sukuna,” Uraume scolds, only to be met with a sneer as Sukuna’s lip curls in irritation.

“Bite me,” is all he replies, unwilling to admit that he needs to save for a lawyer before he can save for a phone.

He can worry about a phone once this is all over. For now, it’s Christmas, and he wants to put whatever focus he can into granting Yuji the only thing he actually asked for this year.

A big Christmas.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; i know i'm a bit late for the holidays and i'm sure many people will be reading this outside of that time period anyway, but i could nawwwt resist giving them a warm and cozy lil holiday together <3 not sure what happened but when it hit 10k words i figured i'd just make this a full chapter. aaaanyways i hope you all enjoyed the sweet fluffy glimpse into their family christmas because i have some angsty plans coming up 😶 forgive me!! as always, thank you for the love and support <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @kasukuna @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

@spindyl @ohmykwonsoonyoung @kyo-kyo1 @officialholyagua @coldluminarykoala

@ieathairs @cinnamxnangel @nessca153 @aerareads @after-laughter-come-tears

@tillaboo @thepassionatereader @erencvlt @v1sque @a-girl-with-thoughts

@lauuriiiz @blueemochii @paradisestarfishh @erenxh @call-me-doll8811

@toulouse365 @dabieater @janrcrosssing @satsattoru @moonchhu

@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

if your handle is on this list but you have not been tagged, please check your settings.

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[pedgito]

↝ FOR THE WORK (10k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [Pre-Outbreak]

↝ PATROLS (17k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. A collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to Joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next.[Set Post S1]

↝ SOFT & SWEET (5k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around Work Song by Hozier. A comfort fic with lots of angst and fluffy goodness. Content Warnings: mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it’s just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

↝ MEET ME IN THE WOODS (50k words) | (Finished Series) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Taking a much needed vacation for the holiday, you aren't aware your cabin has been double-booked until you're face to face with the other guest the night you arrive, left with a big decision to make and the possibility of a month with a man you know nothing about. But, through communication and isolation, you learn that you and him might not be that different after all. Consumed by your shared loneliness, you find company in the unlikeliest of place—a stranger named Joel, in the middle of the woods. [No Outbreak] (6 chapters)

↝ MET THE DEVIL LAST NIGHT (6k words) — (AU) Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: 18+ Demon!Joel, Virgin!Reader, this was little plot and mostly smut lol.

↝ THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR RIDING (3k words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots.

↝ HANDSOME, DIRTY, RICH (12k words) — BFD!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: The rich father of your bestfriend, Sarah — Joel Miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. ↝ RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW (2.7k words) Summary: joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises.

↝ MILLER'S GIRL (24k+ words) | (Finished Series) — (AU) Professor!Joel Miller

Summary: A sudden infatuation with your professor yields strange, unnerving results and Joel Miller, in his first semester at a new job finds himself in an unlikely position with a student that hides their intentions behind innocence.

↝ MOONLIGHT (8k words) — No Outbreak!Joel Miller

Summary: a series of nights spent with a neighbor you find an unlikely connection with, sharing a similar interest to pass the time, it forms into something much more intense and suddenly, neither of you can deny it anymore.

↝ STICKY SWEET (3.2k words) — dbf!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

↝ DIRTY LAUNDRY (5.6k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. After all, what are neighbors for?

↝ ANYWHERE BUT HERE (1.8k words) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: A poor damsel in distress, saved by the most unlikely of man.

↝ ABSOLUTION (Ongoing Series) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Moving in with your soon-to-be stepfather under the roof of his brother, Joel, ends up being a turning point of change in your life.

REMORSE FOR REMEDY (Ongoing Series) — Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

BONUS (+ other characters):

TWO IS BETTER THAN ONE (9k words) — Tommy x Reader x Joel

Summary: Both the Miller brothers have a thing for you and you have a thing for them. They give you an ultimatum and you don’t like that. So, instead of one, you choose both.

BITTER, TASTE. (14k words) — Joel x Reader x Tommy

Summary: A moment of desperation and a kind gesture leads you down an inescapable path alongside two brothers and a town with a nasty secret. (mini series masterlist found here)

MOUTHFUL (2k words)

Summary: Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

CHANGE (7k words)

Summary: Joel hates change, but you introduced the idea that letting someone else take charge isn't always bad.

PRIMAL (5k words)

Summary: Joel's itch to hunt has became a yearly traditional between you and him.

DRIVE (5k words)

Summary: Joel doesn't have a Mrs. but he does have a sports car.

LINGER (7k words)

Summary: Your postcards become a personal journal during patrols with Joel.

UPDATED: 2/3/2025

[tabiito]

DEBÍ TIRAR MÁS FOTOS I — hard launching with the blue lock boys after a rumour includes: sae, karasu, rin + bonus: shidou note: i've tried to keep fcs ambigious but unfortunately i was to only find fem bodied ones, ima work and make the next part more gender neutral read part 2

Sae Itoshi, who reads the rumour and straight up announces your engagement

Sae squints over your shoulder as your lips part in disbelief over the brazen lies the gossip account has been posting. You feel his hot breath on your bare shoulder, stretching your arm further, knowing he's not wearing his reading glasses which he's left in the villa.

It's a lovely summer evening in Mallorca, miles away from Ibiza, and by some eerie circumstance the beach at your resort is empty, save for the two of you. Your day of sunbathing and reading had been pleasant, however, this preposterous rumour poked through your sanctuary of peace as a friend forwarded it to you.

This was one of many you'd had to endure in your three years of dating Sae (longer, if you'd count the long-distance pining), so it doesn't bother you as much. You know what you were getting into when you set your sights on a football prodigy as successful and good looking as Sae, though he hates how you placidly accept this news with a purse of your lips and a sigh.

He feels offence on your behalf as he spies the hotel staff setting up the candlelight dinner he plans on proposing to you at at the edge of the shore, the Cartier ring you've been eyeing for the longest time tucked into his bag.

Pressing a kiss to the juncture of skin between your neck and shoulder, he ignores the guilt that's creeping up his spine when he tells you to "pay the paparazzi no mind."

He can't help himself to slip his phone out and snap a picture of the scenery before him, you basking in the twilight in your bikini top, a copy of My Year of Rest and Relaxation over your eyes as the blazing Sun sinks into the sea.

The decision to keep your relationship private was a mutual one; in the initial stages Sae didn't want you to be harassed by his legions of loyal fans, and you didn't want Sae, known for his private image to be harangued by reporters when they should be focusing on his performance. You never really talked about reverting this decision, and as time with him flew by, you became an expert at dealing with the baggage that comes with being involved with a celebrity.

However, when Sae feels your incadescent smile against his lips, the band on your finger glinting in the moonlight, the images of the beginning of a shared life flashing at the back of his head, he thinks that you shouldn't have to deal with his baggage any longer; not when the two of you were starting a chapter together.

Later that night, inhaling the scent of the ocean and strawberry margaritas in your hair as you sleep peacefully in his arms, Sae hits "post."

Oliver Aiku, who needs to be defended by you, the only person who he's ever posted

"Ooh, you're getting clocked," you giggle, carding your free hand through his hair and swiping through your Twitter feed with the other. Cracking one emerald eye open, Oliver lets out a weary sigh.

"What now?", he grumbles. "If they've finally traced back all those Barou dating rumours to me just know I've included you in my will."

"'Included'? Am I not getting your entire estate, you stingy old man?", you tease, tugging at his roots. He groans in response, mimicking a ruffled cat who'd just been rudely interrupted from its afternoon nap.

"And no, apparently, your exes have grouped together to do a confessional on you in some tabloid," you chuckle, passing him his phone. You, better than anyone else, know Oliver's complicated romantic past, womanising behaviour and hookup culture fuelled coping tendencies while the two of you pined for each other from the sidelines for years, hoping to erase thoughts of the other by pursuing half-assed relationships.

Not that it worked particularly well, considering you're spending summer break in his apartment in Stockholm simulating level of domesticity you'd taken to a little scarily fast.

Reading out some of the downright malicious things his exes have said ("Really? You'd place sports bets based on their recommendations? No wonder you lost so much cash."), he hears the tinkle of your laughter through his sun-dappled room at some of these quotes, happy at how you were secure enough with him to dismiss these silly one liners as figments of his unscrupulous past.

The truth is that he's really been trying. You've always been too important to him to fuck things up with — the source of his exes' despair of always being "obsessed with texting someone else at late hours of the night", courtesy of different timezones, or being the only person he'd pick up drunk when you'd be in Tokyo. For once, he was nervous about a relationship, treating you with unexpected gentleness.

You've taken many of his firsts, he realises: first proper date he actually planned out, first time sending flowers at two and three month anniversaries, all that corny stuff he never saw himself doing.

He only supposes you take this first and last from him, too.

Swiping off Twitter, Oliver begins poring through your Photos to find a suitable snap from last night when you'd met his friends at the club. Settling on one where he's wearing cufflinks with the initials of your name, he accesses his Instagram from your phone (a safety measure), calmly adding one more post to his limited feed.

Rin Itoshi, who's honestly been itching to do this for a while now

"For fuck's sake," Rin grouses, sipping the water you just handed him. Drenched in sweat, jersey sticking to his back, he'd been grateful when you showed up to give him company as he trained, saying something about "studying anatomy" while pencilling in your sketchbook as he took shot after shot.

Instead, he's subjected to you quizzically raising an eyebrow in the direction of his over-enthusiastic physiotherapist who had a thing for announcing to the public whenever her and Rin were together.

Peeved at the sheer idiocy of the rumour, and irritated at her complete disrespect for Rin's boundaries, with his dislike of publicity well-documented, you were rightfully going to march over and give her a piece of your mind. It wasn't like you'd spend your afternoons in the bleachers of the Parc Des Princes to soak in the sweat, or that Rin would saunter over to you in every free minute to critique your latest doodle — since the day you'd preached at him in the Louvre, everyone from the coaching analysts to substitutes on PXG knew you were a couple.

Rin can practically feel the annoyance radiating off you in an aura unlike the ones that possessed footballers during heated matches. A little pleased with the jealousy something as petty as a gossip column elicited from you, he appreciatively hands you the bottle back and gives your hand a squeeze.

"I've got this."

Though he has to wrangle out the passwords for his social media accounts from his management since he rarely uses them, Rin makes it a point to carefully vet and select photos of you and him during his break. Though he looks comical in some, and downright unflattering in others, he couldn't give a damn less seeing the excitement in your eyes as you lean over the barrier, Airdropping photos to him.

After curating the perfect post, Rin calls for his physio, who practically skips along the grass to the bleachers, but blanches when she sees your unimpressed expression.

"Take a picture of us," he brusquely asks, shoving his phone into her hands, downturned in a sneer. Before she can react, he catches you completely off guard, crashing his lips against yours. Your eyes are shut, but you know him well enough to sense that he's smirking right now. He kisses you a lot longer than necessary for one shot, snaking his hand along your waist for good measure, practically pulling you over the blue barriers on your tiptoes.

You squeak when he lets go, licking his lips ever so slightly as the mortified PT squirms while handing him his phone. "Huh. So you are half-competent at something after all."

Tabito Karasu, who's three months in and knows you're the one

Karasu's a perfect gentleman. Even before you started dating, back in highschool, he'd be one of those quietly chivalric guys who'd hold doors open or jackets above your head if it rained. The kind of guy who'd snatch grocery bags out of your hand despite making a quip about "weak arms." Now, you think that he's a little too perfect.

Things that would be a dealbreaker in other relationships, such as both of your packed schedules, the invasiveness of the internet and the fact that time was not on your side most of the time almost spurred Karasu on to make an extra effort. Your research is going late into the night? He's there to pick you up. You're craving takeout after being absolutely decimated by a physics seminar? He's already wearing his baseball cap and sunglasses, one foot out of the door.

Truth be told, Karasu's a little over-awed by you and your brain He thinks he could spent hours immersed in your world as you ramble on about the paradoxes and theories you're learning, or the cutting-edge research you're contributing to. Though it makes him acutely aware that he has much to learn outside of football, you satiate his curiosity in ways that make him feel that he's the only person you've deigned worth talking to.

Otoya makes fun of him for how whipped he is, and though he hasn't had much experience prior to you other than people just throwing themselves at him, he knows this is more than a fleeting crush. So he goes the extra mile in every little thing, sparing no expense.

The day your finals were over he ringed in the celebrations with you in your dorm, blasting songs he was surprised you even knew the lyrics to. Scaring him with your ability to recite Future bar for bar with him on "Low Life", Karasu feels overcome with an urge hold onto you for dear life. The need to make it exclusively clear to everyone around him that you're the one for him becomes much clearer when a shopping trip turns to an absurd coincidence in the rumour mill, one that's got you all nervous in front of him.

He can't help but feel the dull stab of anger as you, clearly overwhelmed by the opinion of the Internet, spend the day upset. If it's one thing he dislikes, it's when things don't go his way. Instead of complaining about it, though, the words leave his mouth before he can even process what they mean, a rarity for someone like him.

"Come with me to the JFA dinner this weekend."

BONUS: Shidou Ryusei, who never even thought it was a secret

a/n yall im not freaky enough yet to write for shidou but i think the scenario is a really funny one in my head i had sm fun doing this though we got barou n isagi down for pt 2 who else?

[theearloftophats]

Save me mystery trio save me...

They are genuinely the only thing keeping me from losing it. world's most mentally ill group of friends. I genuinely forget they're not canon sometimes and then I get so sad when I remember.

And as a bonus, a mini concept for my big fiddlestan fic. I cant wait to write this scene but first i have to get through so much other shit. I think i'll post the second chapter tomorrow maybe? we'll see.

Im also writing a separate oneshot about Ford meeting a fiddle and stan from an alt universe?? i like how its coming out but idk if anyone would read that....lmk ig??

[nekoro-san]

Oh man, I’m still hoping a Yuri babysitting Anya chapter.

Spy x Family volume 14: bonus chapter and official timeline translation

Volume 14 was just released and it included a ton of great extras, including an extra bonus chapter and a timeline of events! Firstly, here's my translation of the 4Koma (4 panel) bonus chapter!

Lol at Anya telling Yuri to go to work 😂 I also love how Anya has a teacup once Yor is home ❤️

Next, much to everyone's surprise, Endo provided an official timeline...sort of. It doesn't have specific years and a lot of information is redacted, but it's something! Sorry for the sloppy editing, I pasted an excel sheet over the original text since that was much easier. Also, the letters in the "Character Age" column refer to the first letter of the character ("L" for Loid for example).

Did I forget who "Coco" was or was that never actually in the manga?

Even though much of the timeline is redacted, it does confirm a few things, like how old Henry and Martha were during some past events, and in the present, as well as Loid's age when he joined the army. I also find it interesting that Anya is included even though this timeline is about the wars...was the facility she was at involved with the war somehow? 👀 Were the experiments on her related?

Next, a bonus illustration of Damian picking his outfit for the gala, just like Jeeves mentioned in the latest chapter. Ewen is telling him to pick black since it looks more more cool and mature. But Endo says that the overlapping patterns make it hard to see, so he should pick white. Obviously being the creator, whatever Endo says goes 😅

Stella progress illustration. Anya is the only one with tonitrus...

And lastly, the main cover and inner cover featuring young and old Henderson (maybe Martha for volume 15?)

[fujoshirat]

When the Shouto Todoroki saves you and your kindergarten students at the aquarium during a villain attack, you can't seem to get him out of your head. Bonus: you're quirkless and he's a pro hero, so you live in two different worlds. The glue? His cute nephew that's obsessed with rocks and that just so happens to be in your kindergarten class.

In short: You've become obsessed, you suppose. But that's all right, you're not the only one that's obsessed.

WARNING: I cooked so get ready for a long chapter >:)

1 - I'm Obsessed With You

'Two, four, six... sixteen!' Counting the little yellow hats waddling around the jellyfish exhibit, you make a mental headcount of all of your students. Sixteen little kindergarteners with bold personalities and big hearts all under your care. As their kindergarten teacher and chaperone for the monthly field trip, it was your duty to keep an eye out of all of them.

You were quirkless, but you've accepted it.

You knew that you would never become a hero, and that was okay. You would never be like All Might or the young student hero Deku during the war.

But that was okay.

People still respected you. The convenience store ladies would applaud you when you would tell them your job. 'A kindergarten teacher? Sounds fun!' You family loved you all the same and your friends still invited you to the izakaya bar near the station.

And being a kindergartener teacher was fun. Nurturing the children was your passion, and caring for them came like second nature.

Rounding up the children and having them form a line, you led them to the next exhibit. "Alright! Does anyone remember what exhibit we are going to next?" A chorus of "me! me! me!"s filled the area as you led the group to an outdoor area of the massive aquarium. Scanning over all sixteen children, you call out a student's name. "Himari-chan! Do you know?" The bubbly girl with twin braids eagerly nods her head. "Mhm! Mhm! The penguins!" "Very good!"

The sound of honking and chirping fills your ears, a definite sign of the marine animals. Stopping, you clear your throat and turn around to face the children.

"Alright kids, would you like to explore the exhibit?"

"Yes Y/N-sensei!"

"Okay, find your pair and stay in this room. I will call everyone once it is time for us to move on." You watch all sixteen of your students start finding their buddy and splitting up. They were responsible children that knew not to run off on their own and to go to you when they needed the toilet. As the last pair went off to join majority of the students at the emperor penguin's area, you walk towards the sound of chirping.

Walking closer to the Adelie penguins exhibit, you spot two yellow hats in the same area. Upon further inspection, you recognize them to be Kaoru and Taro, huddled close together as to not get separated.

"Kaoru-kun, Taro-kun, do you like the Adelie penguins?"

Taro, the taller one with rosy cheeks and brown hair nods enthusiastically. In contrast, the white-haired Kaoru just stares at you with his usual blank expression. However, the shorter one's eyes seem to sparkle despite his nonchalant look. 'Ah', you recall, 'he must be excited about the rocks because of his rock collection'.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Kaoru Todoroki was a quiet boy. The five-year-old was respectful and completed all of his tasks at school. He never fought and always participated in the activities and games during recess. However, he preferred not to talk and would just observe everyone. On the occasion that he would talk to you, he would only talk about one thing: his rock collection -> "Kaoru-kun! How was your Christmas?" "Good, Y/N-sensei. My oji-san took me camping and got me rocks for my collection." "Oh wow! That sounds like a lot of fun!" -> It was so nice that the little boy had something he enjoyed despite his cold demeanor. He didn't seem to be abused either: you had met his father, Natsuo Todoroki, at the first day of school orientation. He was a pediatrician who was pretty nice and always greeted you whenever he picked Kaoru up. Just like the rest of the world, you knew who your student was related to. A last name that carried high respect and esteem, you could only wonder why his parent decided to enroll him into your kindergarten. However, you didn't mind it at all. ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Do you boys know why the penguins collect the rocks?" They shake their head in sync. You crouch down and point at two Adelie penguins in the corner.

"Adelie penguin boys give a girl penguin a rock because he loves her. He wants to give her a special rock because he thinks that she is so special. When he gives her the rock, the girl penguin will thank him and put the rock in her nest, right there!" You direct their attention to several pebble-nests in the same area. "When she lays eggs, the boy and girl Adelie penguins will keep them warm so they can hatch safely! They are now all cozy like a little happy family. Do you understand?" You stifle a laugh to yourself when you notice the awestruck expressions on both students' faces. Turning around, you look at the other students wandering around the room, doing a head count to make sure that everyone is there. 'Two, four, six, eight...'

But before you can reach sixteen, the sound of glass shattering interrupts you. Right where Kaoru and Taro were, a villainous man breaks the glass barrier between people and the Adelie penguins. Honking and chirping sounds ring through your ears, your heart thumping frantically in your chest. 'A villain!? Poacher!? On field trip day!? But there aren't any heroes around!' Some of the aquarium staff on duty rush to the masked man,

but more glass shatters and they're knocked onto the floor, unconscious.

Pushing Kaoru and Taro and behind you, you instinctively cross your arms into the shape of an 'x' and shield your face from the villain. You hiss at sharp glass shards bouncing off your skin, small cuts forming.

"Stop! Please!"

Three more masked people enter the room. The man takes no mind to your pleas and instead barks orders to what you think are his subordinates in another language. The three men each begin restraining you, an elderly woman, and a couple with rope. You can hear the other kids crying in the back, all huddled together.

This wasn't good.

Trying to fight back, you jab your elbow into one of your assailants and your foot at another. However, they were much stronger than you and quickly pinned you down.

And then there was ice.

A massive sheet of ice appears and freezes over the main villain. You catch a glimpse of red and white hair, your eyes widening at the sight. Only one man could have that distinct color.

It seems like Shouto Todoroki, number 3 hero in all of Japan, is saving you right now. Ensuring that the masked man is secured, he makes quick work of his minions. A kick here, some ice there, a sprinkle of fire. It was all a blur. The next thing you knew, his nimble fingers easily removed your binds and scanned your body.

"Miss, are you alright?"

And just like that, you were hooked. God, his voice, his physique, his care, you just melted at his feet. He wasn't Japan's hottest hero for nothing, and he sure was living up to that. It takes you a while to snap out of your daze (embarrassing), but thankfully he had time to wait. His team was helping the elderly woman and couple, already checking if they had sustained any injuries. Turning your eyes back to his majestic face, you notice his eyebrows furrow slightly. His larger hand gently grabs yours and you wince. Confirming his suspicions, he spots your arms littered in cuts and your left wrist slightly bruised. "You're injured. Are you able to stand up?" You can stand up just fine and offer a polite smile.

"Yes, thank you so much Pro Hero Shouto! I appreciate the concern but I need to check my students, so-" "Red Riot is already checking up on them. I can promise you, ma'am, that they are in good hands." That professional tone was going to kill you, and apparently it did kill your voice, so you swallowed and wordlessly nodded. The pro hero sits you down on a bench and pulls out a bandage roll from his suit.

"I apologize for the poor substitute of a brace. The ambulance is on its way." You watch him kneel down and pray that he doesn't notice the (furious) redness painted on your cheeks. Shouto respectfully takes your arm and bandages it, careful not to apply to much pressure. You admire his hands, large, rough, and calloused, no doubt from his quirk and hero work. It was admirable (and certainly handsome). As he finishes up, he gets ready to say something when sixteen little yellow hats crowd you and him.

Ritsu, the youngest and smallest out of all of your students, is the one to cry first.

As she bawls her eyes out, you reach out to her. "Hey, Ritsu-chan, it's o-" You wince as a bolt of pain crawls up your right arm momentarily, and that causes her to cry harder. Just like that, most of the kindergarteners begin crying. Red Riot, another famous and good pro hero, walks up with a sheepish expression. "Sorry Miss! I promise that I only turned around for one second, but they all ran to you!" He turns to Shouto after. "Shouto, the ambulance is here and the medics are running in." He nods and turns back to you, giving you a soft nod. Clearing your throat, you address your students.

"Is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?"

"You, Y/N-sensei!" You smile warmly, heart touched by theirs.

"Don't worry about me. I'm okay. You all are so brave for not panicking when the villain came and instead stayed together. Can we say thank you to pro heroes Red Riot and Shouto?"

"Thank you, Red Riot and Shouto!"

The red-head hero grins in response, and you watch Shouto's unreadable expression shifted into a soft smile.

"It's no problem at all. Now, can I ask that you all stay with Red Riot while I help your sensei?" All in awe at the popular heroes, they nod and eagerly bombard Red Riot with questions. You chuckle to yourself but notice Shouto's gaze focused on your injuries. As he walks you to the medics, you chirp up.

"It really doesn't hurt that bad, I promise." He shakes his head, "Excuse me." Before you can respond, he abruptly picks you up and sits you on the edge of the open ambulance. '!?!' Your cheeks flare up again.

His gaze never leaving yours, two female medics quickly check up on you and properly bandage you up. One of them gently applies ice to your wrist and smiles at you. "Name, please?" "L/N, Y/N." "Alright, thank you L/N-san for being patient! Your wrist is minorly sprained, so we're using ice to help with the swelling. Please ice it when you get home and be careful not to put pressure or overwork it. Your forearms are minorly cut but should heal per usual. Do you have any quirks or conditions such as pregnancy that we need to be aware of?" "Ah, no." You see the handsome man observing you, his eyes widening in slight shock as he listens to what you tell the medic. He remains silent as the other one chimes in. "Alright! L/N-san, you are good to go!" "Thank you very much!" Shouto helps you down to ensure that you don't use your wrists again and bows to the ladies. They wave at the two of you in a friendly manner and start closing up the ambulance.

As Shouto walks you back, you can't help but admire him. He's tall. Unfairly tall. He towers over your body, no doubt almost or at six feet. His skin is fair and porcelain, and his muscular biceps are noticeable (definitely something to drool on about) His scar most definitely complements his facial features. You also notice that his cheeks are slightly plushy, round and definitely soft if one were to touch it. It was... kind of cute.

He ushers you back into the entrance of the aquarium where his team, all civilians, and all staff were gathered. You spot your students and instinctively want to run to them, but with a warm hand hovering behind the small of your back, you stay put next to the pro hero. You expect all of your students to run to Shouto, to bother him with questions,

But Kaoru runs to you and him.

"Oji-san!" The little boy hugs Shouto's leg, his ivory hair only reaching the man's waist. You melted at the sight, knowing that it was rare to get social interaction or even touch from Kaoru. 'Cute!'

Wait...

SHOUTO TODOROKI WAS THE UNCLE THAT HE ALWAYS TALK ABOUT?!?

"My oji-san got me another box for my rock collection for my birthday."

"My oji-san got me a fossil from America."

"My oji-san snores a little in his sleep."

"My oji-san took me camping and got me rocks for my collection."

You obviously knew that your student was related to Japan's Hottest Hero somehow, but you didn't realize that he was his direct nephew! What's more, you didn't realize how close the two really were, and it was so sweet and endearing to see Kaoru so out of his shell. Right now, the five-year-old was blabbing to his uncle, telling him all about the Adelie penguins today and asking if you were alright and if he was going to come home for dinner.

And Shouto? He looked so focused on the little boy, so amused, and so soft. As he talks with his nephew, you notice that some parents have already arrived, looking for you. Walking away from your savior and student, you politely greet the parents and lead them to the children, all being entertained by Shouto's team. The mothers all fawn and worry over your injuries. "You're hurt, L/N-sensei?" "Oh no!" "Thank goodness you're safe!" After about 30 minutes, the fifteen other children are all with their families and gone from the aquarium. In the horizon, the sun has already begun to set, its golden hue mixed with purple and orange.

You're a little surprised to still see Shouto and Kaoru. He already talked to the police and dismissed his coworkers, so what was he still doing here? Walking up to the pair, you look down at Kaoru. "Kaoru-kun, were you surprised that your oji-san came today?" "Mhm!" "Awesome! I'm glad that you were! I was definitely surprised." Your heart beats rapidly as you shoot a smile at his uncle. To your surprise, he smiles back (be still, my poor heart!). Standing back up, you talk to Shouto.

"I can't thank you enough, Shouto-san. You really came at the perfect time."

"It is no problem at all, L/N-san. I apologize for not arriving sooner."

"Aw! Don't worry about it! All that matters is that my kids are safe." You notice him look at you a little curiously when you refer to your students as 'my kids.' Laughing slightly to yourself, you clarify.

"My students are my livelihood and teaching is my passion. I would be absolutely heartbroken if one of them got injured, not as a teacher but as myself." You playfully wink at the pro hero's nephew, his cheeks turning pink slightly because he knows what you are going to say. "Kaoru-kun is a pleasure to have and I am thankful that he is in my class." Shouto nods and ruffles his nephew's ivory hair. Kaoru whines in response. "Oji-san!" When the tall man laughs at the five-year-old, you choke on your breath. "I am glad that Kaoru is behaving, and I'll pass your sentiments along to his father when I drop him off later." He glances at your wrist before continuing. "Do you need help going home, L/N-san? I can drop you off." You shake your head in response. "It's alright! The station is right there and I live one station away." His beautiful eyes observe your face, a hint of worry evident in his jaw-dropping face. Letting out a sigh, he nods.

"Alright, but please be safe and get help if you need."

"Mhm! Thank you."

You bow to him and glance at Kaoru. "Kaoru-kun, have a good weekend, okay?" "Okay, Y/N-sensei. Bye bye." Smiling, you walk to the subway station.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Unlocking the door to your apartment with your good hand, you lock the door behind you and slump down at the entrance. Today's events have just begun sinking and marinating in your mind.

"Oh. My. God."

Glancing at your left wrist, you bite your lip. 'Gosh, I hope it heals before Monday so I can return to normal.' Standing up again, you trod over to the fridge and open it. Inside, you grab leftover fried rice from breakfast and put it in the microwave. As you wait for it, you instantly think of Japan's Hottest Hero, the man that saved you, and then your cheeks seem to catch on fire.

'Oh my God, I just met him and I'm already obsessed!!'

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: Whew! What a mess! Thank you all for reading the first part of 'Obsessed' and I hope that you enjoyed it!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I love pro hero Shouto and his family so writing his little nephew Kaoru was THE CUTEST THING EVER!! Fun fact: His hyper fixation on collecting rocks reflects my own younger brother's dinosaur hyper fixation (like many other young boys).

I promise that Shouto's POV will also cook once I get that started and ready for you (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) so I hope that you look forward to that! In the meantime, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone's support throughout my Tumblr journey so far! My recent work received a lot of support and love, and I am truly grateful for everyone 🥺🫶🏻I really think that I have been cooking this November (and the last few days of October), so hopefully you all feel the same!

[zepskies]

Against the Wind || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Another short series for @jacklesversebingo! This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon SPN world.

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, angst, smut, fluff and feels. Background Sam Winchester x Eileen (Saileen).

Chapters:

Part 1: In His Hands

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

Part 4: Running to Live

Series Complete!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜

Dean Winchester Tag List

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @mrlonelycat @deans-daydream

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @aylacavebear

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @suckitands33

@winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess @winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak

@megara0224 @yoongi-holland @illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala

@jessjad @impala-dreamer @k4marina @atenea585 @king-of-milf-lovers

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @daisychaingirl @star-yawnznn @number1whorehome

@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @everything-is-all-clear

@trashmoutth @riteofpassage77 @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova

@cookiechipdough

[azsazz]

Severance

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Idk if you’re taking requests and it’s okay if you aren’t but I was rereading Feysand bonus chapter and it mentions that Feyre’s libido was heightened due to pregnancy and really wanted a fic where we see that with Az and reader bc I LOVE LOVE your daddy!Az fics and it would be funny seeing Az being a dad but also finding time to pleasure his pregnant mate due to hormones that man’s schedule would be jammed pack hahaha

Warnings: Smut, reader is pregnant, light breeding kink.

Word Count: 2061

Notes: This req is literally from a year ago today 😳 now that's some sort of fate (or mad laziness lol) Also, it's been a hot minute since I've written some smut hopefully it's good.

Bat Babies ages in this fic: Wren, Nyx, Gid 8, Baz 6, Zuzu 3, Jax 2, Knox and Malos in the womb.

_________________________________________

“Wren,” you sigh exasperatedly at your eight year old, “Please go play with your siblings. Mommy just needs a few minutes to herself.” 

It’s hard to keep your tone cool and level while your core is burning, dripping for the mate who’s stepped into the shadows whilst you bargain with your son. The both of you had snuck off for a few quick kisses that turned into something more, and it’s the first time you’ve had any time to yourselves in weeks. You don’t know if it’s being pregnant with two babies this time around making every single one of your senses heightened, but you don’t recall being this horny for your mate during your first four pregnancies.

Oh, you were insatiable, sweetheart, your mate purrs in your mind. You can feel the smugness radiating off of him not only from the bond tethering you, but from where he stands, five feet away and shrouded in darkness. And I loved every moment of it. You did too, of course.

You shut your eyes for a long second so your oldest son doesn’t catch you rolling them. I would love for you to remind me of just how much I loved it, mate, you send back, letting your frustrated desperation cling to your words, if we can ever seem to find the time.

Last week, Zuzu refused to go to Feyre’s painting class even though all of the other cousins were going in for a private session the High Lady had set up specifically so that you and your mate could spend the night alone together. She spent the entire time latched to Azriel’s leg and crying her little eyes out until the both of you gave in and let your daughter stay home. Your only saving grace that night was getting to lounge on the couch with a good book—that really only made you hornier for your mate—whilst Azriel and Zuzu baked cookies in the kitchen and hand delivered them to you with a large glass of milk.

A few days ago, it was Baz who had trouble sleeping and came pounding at your door while your mate was three fingers deep into your sopping cunt. The both of you had hastily gotten dressed, grumbling the entire time you did so, and let your second oldest son into the room. Azriel swiftly avoided Baz’s questioning about why your door had been locked in the first place, and the both of you watched him crawl up onto your bed and settle in the center of the tangled sheets, looking at the both of you expectantly. Baz talked your ears off all night long. 

And it was only last night when Jax who couldn’t be consoled when he couldn’t find his stuffed Suriel for bedtime. Azriel spent an hour scouring your house for the toy while you held Jax close, trying to keep your own emotions calm and serene instead of the frustration you wanted to give into, lest your son pick up on them and dampen his mood further. Even with his keen spymaster abilities and the shadows he’d released to help the cause, Azriel came up empty.

With four young children and twins on the way, it seemed as though they always knew the perfect time to interrupt you and your mate every time you tried to get close to each other. 

Wren frowns, his head falling back on his shoulders as he stares up at you with those hazel eyes that are a gift from his father. They’re pleading, and he really wants to have that sleepover with Gideon and Nyx, but you’ve never been a sucker for those pleading looks. If Wren thinks that huffing and puffing and making sad faces is going to change your mind, he came to the wrong parent.

Especially since he’s interrupted your fun as well.

You tap your foot, waiting your son out. He stares, and you stare back. You even cross your arms over your chest, resting them over the swollenness of your stomach, nearly two-thirds of the way through your pregnancy.

Your body goes taut at the feeling that Azriel lets zip down the bond. It’s one of complete arousal, his obsession with you when you make that stern face. 

It takes all of your willpower not to shift on your feet with the rush of wetness that accompanies the feeling of heat rushing through your veins. Not to clench your thighs together or glance over to where your mate stands, probably staring at you with his hazel eyes, filled with need.

Not that you’d be able to see him in the darkness anyway.

Wren’s pleading draws your attention away from your desires and back to the matter at hand.

“Please, mom!”

Clearing your throat so that it doesn’t falter when you speak, you answer. “You may have a sleepover with Nyx and Gideon tomorrow night if you're a good boy tonight. And that means playing with your siblings for a few minutes until I come to take Jax and Zuz for their baths.”

You’re pretty sure you lost your eldest son when you agreed to the sleepover, and you nearly stumble when he throws himself at you, hugging you tight. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Wren screeches with excitement, and your heart grows when he places a fleeting kiss to your stomach and bolts from the room. You can hear him tearing down the halls to where Baz is loudly making the toys in the living room speak. 

“Sweetheart, are you crying?” Azriel’s voice startles you. No longer is he hiding in the shadows, but at your side, swiping a calloused thumb across your cheek, swiping away the wetness.

“He’s just so sweet,” you gush, leaning into your mate’s arms. You press your ear to his chest, listening to the steady and strong thumping of his heart. You love this man and everything that you’ve built together. Through all of the missions and worrying, to building a home and family together, you truly are grateful for the life that you live.

“You know what else is sweet?” Azriel says, his suggestive whisper caressing the shell of your ear. It causes you to shiver, fingers curling into his shirt as he pulls you closer, lifting you easily into his arms.

“What?” you answer breathlessly, already losing yourself to your mate’s touch again. Namely, his thick cock brushing against your cunt with each step closer to the desk in the office he takes.

You don’t even have to worry about the kids right now. You can fall into the bliss you’ve been so desperately trying to find for the past week, because you noted how Azriel’s shadows trailed your son from the room, at least one always with every child at all times of the day.

“You.” His lips slant over yours, his tongue parting your lips with ease. You meet him halfway, licking, tasting your way as his hands hike up the skirts of your dress and pull your panties to the side as soon as your ass hits the edge of the wooden desk. “Tell me what you need, mate.”

There isn’t time for foreplay, for teasing nips of teeth against your hardened nipples. They’re rubbing against the fabric of your dress just fine. No time for orgasms by his hands, his tongue. You’d hardly be able to enjoy the view of Azriel on his knees for you with the size of your bump.

“Your cock,” you whimper, trying desperately to keep your voice low.

You shudder against the fingers he drags across your cunt, swiping through your slick. You’re ready, more than. You need him right this instant.

Azriel swallows the plea you’re about to release, enjoying the way you tug on his hair as a way to reprimand him. It has him grinning into the kiss, his fingers quickly fumbling with his belt because he’s just as desperate as you are, having not nearly been near you—or in you—enough in the past few weeks. 

Your pesky children are always interrupting.

“Your wish is my command,” he answers easily, and your back arches as he rubs the head of his cock across your sopping heat.

Azriel almost snarls with pleasure at the sight of your bump pressing sky-high. He leans in closer, loving the feeling of the three of you close. You’re so fucking beautiful, and there’s something special about how you look swollen with his child, something the both of you made.

He’s seen it four times over by now, and it never gets fucking old. He’ll keep you good and pregnant until you tell him you don’t want any more children.

And he loves the way you writhe against him, hook your legs around his waist, trying to force him closer, your cunt greedily trying to suck his cock deep into your womb. Loves the way your nails pinch into his shoulders, the way your teeth latch onto his lip to keep quiet when he pushes into you in one fell swoop. 

There’s a burst of blood on his tongue but Azriel loves it, quickly pulling out and pressing back in so that you’ll bite him again. When you come down from your high, you’ll apologize profusely, but he doesn’t care, likes a bit of pain with his pleasure. 

He’ll revel in the redness of your cheeks when your children ask him what happened to him later, though.

“Azriel,” you cry, clutching onto your mate for dear life. You love the feeling of his thick cock stretching you, the gushing between your legs when he so easily finds that spot that has you cumming within seconds like some whore. He knows that you need this release, that the both of you need to be quick and quiet with your fucking. Your children can only be occupied for so long.

“I’ll make sure Cassian or Rhys can take the children tomorrow,” Azriel promises against your mouth, smothering the sounds you make for him. He’s just as desperate to hear you scream, the reminder of it has heat pooling in his core, his pace quickening. “Then, you can scream as loud as you want, mate, all night long.”

A second orgasm washes over you like a wave. Azriel didn’t even have to stick his hands between the both of you, but he is now, wanting one more before he releases himself. It’s brewing quickly, and he circles his fingers over your clit, skilled and an expert at everything that has to do with you.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You beg, hips rolling to meet his. Azriel groans into your neck, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over the hurt.

“I’m going to cum,” he pants harshly, straightening to his full height to look down at you in all of your sexed-out glory. The way you can barely keep yourself braced against the desk, the way your mouth is parted in that perfect shape that almost makes him want to pull out and stick his cock down your throat instead. The way that your eyes are rolled so far into the back of your head that you can see the bond connecting the both of you, completely overcome with desire.

You keen your agreement, words jumbled as he takes you to your peak again, the both of you shuddering with pleasure as your orgasms overcome you. 

He rubs you through your pleasure, rocking his hips slowly as he empties himself deeply inside of you. If you weren’t  already pregnant, Azriel’s sure you would be now, with how much cum he’s pumping inside of you.

Your mate hugs you close, rubbing your back until you come down from your high. 

You lean back, blinking up at him blearily, and it makes Azriel want to take you all over again.

“Is that a promise, mate?” You ask, referring to him making sure that all of your children will be away at their aunts and uncles tomorrow night, leaving the both of you to yourselves. Well, plus the two in your uterus.

Azriel hums, finally pulling out of you. You gasp at the loss but his fingers are there, stuffing the leaking cum back into your cunt. You’re not sure your legs can support you right now, but they don’t need to, because you’re already rearing for another round. 

“It’s a promise, sweetheart.”