#the one wip for each year thing is NOT going to last but i like what im doing with it atm

[miabrown007]

a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take

[foxmulderautism]

originally i thought lover boy would extend into 1988, and i have this autism thing where i like there to just be one main story for each year of the timeline (beau/bobby/jolie multi pov novel is 1982-83, bobby novella is 1984, felix + dorothy novel is 1985-86, lover boy is 1987. only exception is until heaven and other heavens are both 1990-91 but they parallel each other they are twin novellas to me)….which means the 1988 slot is free now meaning SPACE FOR ANOTHER STORY YAYYYYYYY. sorry for forming a special interest over one wip and turning it into a writing playground where i follow the same series of characters from different angles across a decade, so you still think I’m hot?

[aethon-recs]

40 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — Longfic Edition (Part 3)

Part 3 of 2024 recs! See below for a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2024 🤍

As with last year, I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, with an emphasis on underrated fics and/or fics that made me think about the ship in some new way. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of writing in this ship, there are still so many new themes and tropes and angles to explore. 

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2024. 

Overall, for 2024, I've split up my year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics with 30 fics and Part 2: One-Shots with 30 fics. And with these 40 fics, this wraps up 100 recs for Tomarrymort for 2024!

*

a cool drink of water by @zolpidem105 (E, 10k, WIP)

Harry Potter, an apprentice at Police Scotland, wakes up to find he’s not in his bed.  "Awake? Excellent. We should get going," Tim?—Tom—says from the side, sounding far, far too alert for what Harry feels is catastrophically early in the morning.

A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight (E, 70k, WIP)

Harry can't sleep because of his neighbours' constant fighting, and he ends up falling asleep at work. Tom Riddle, CEO, is not particularly happy.

Accidents happen by @themothatyourdoor (T, 51k, WIP)

Harry must have been London's first accidental sugar daddy.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 114k, WIP)

When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 30k, WIP)

Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him.

Auror Potter by @albondiguilla007 (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry Potter is done. He's been in the past for months now, working undercover. Enter Tom Riddle. Impulse control has never been a strong suit of Harry’s, and this mission is proving to be the most difficult one yet.

By Any Means by @corpium (E, 101k, WIP)

Harry Potter will do anything to protect his little brother, whether that means facing the Dursleys' wrath, dogging his brother's footsteps, or taking down the Dark Lord himself. Absolutely anything.

Crush by @chiocchi (T, 4 chapters, WIP)

Tom Riddle doesn't know what it's like to have a crush. So when his heart starts beating fast every time he sees Harry Potter, it can only mean one thing: His instincts are telling him that Harry Potter is a threat that must be eliminated.

Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3 (T, 57k, WIP)

Harry wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.

draw me after you (let us run) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 287k, WIP)

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years. “It seems I have finally caught you.” 

Echoes by @dracomort (M, 4k, WIP)

Across a thousand worlds, Harry and Tom find each other.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 112k, WIP)

This is Tom’s destiny, a King among men. No—a god. He need only rise to that which is his for the taking… if only one strange boy weren’t so determined to get in his way.

Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot (E, 77k, WIP)

Voldemort survives the final battle and is imprisoned in Azkaban. After a series of unfortunate events, Harry Potter ends up in the cell next to him.

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (M, 90k, WIP)

Harry Potter is a time-travelling, furious mess, and he is going to kill the Dark Lord. Like most of his plans, things do not work out. Tom should not be so obsessed with his would-be murderer.

Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis (E, 595k, WIP)

When Harry Potter cast his first Cruciatus Curse, he was successful. In doing so, he awoke the darkness in his head. It whispers, and it's never wrong. The darkness is hungry, and won’t be denied.

Moon Rite by @isalisewrites (E, 15k, WIP)

Voldemort learned the truth: Harry was his horcrux. With a sudden offer of a ceasefire, the decades long war could be over - lives saved and protected - if Harry swore to one agreement: a magically binding marriage contract with Voldemort himself.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 313k, WIP)

The Dark Lord divines what Harry Potter is in the Forbidden Forest, and revelations lead to incomprehensible consequences. Lord Voldemort has won... and the dystopia is damning.

Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 166k, WIP)

When Harry succumbs to dementors in Little Whinging, the last thing he expects is to wake and find Tom Riddle’s face staring back at him in the mirror. It only goes downhill from there.

of various storms and saints by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 36k, WIP)

“I am the last Lector. I am my people’s very last hope,” Harry bites out through the teeth of his fury. He is done throwing curses and spells. He is reduced to this, divine rage.  And then, Voldemort is there, looming and dark and great and terrible. “And I will stamp it out.”

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 207k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, just when the wizarding world thinks itself safe, a serial killer emerges, leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Each of the bodies bears a gruesome message for the Aurors. A message which claims the Dark Lord has risen again.

Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale (M, 39k, WIP)

Featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together and slowly ruining each other’s lives.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 162k, WIP)

In another world, Harry Potter was spared. Raised in Lord Voldemort's Britain, he enters his seventh year wanting to keep his head down. But after a chance encounter with ‘Marvolo Gaunt’, it looks like it may not be so simple.

Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear (E, 70k, WIP)

The moment Harry is struck by the killing curse, it’s not death that awaits him, but ascension. A story of faith, obsession, and the burden of divinity.

Seaforth by @kippipies (M, 10k, WIP)

For as long as he can remember, Harry's had a normal life, looking after a precocious child named Tom on an isolated island. But everything in his normal life is shattered when he finds out a terrible truth: that a powerful leader called Voldemort is after him.

Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist (T, 95k, WIP)

Anticipation bubbled in Tom’s stomach as he imagined fear and shock Harry’s green eyes. Eyes that snapped open the instant Tom's hand touched the frame of the hospital bed. Eyes that burned gold.

some like it hot by @duplicitywrites (E, 12k, WIP)

When Tom Riddle applies for an internship at the Ministry of Magic, he is assigned to the Department of Magical Fire Control and Containment, a department that boasts a very impressive headcount of one: Harry Potter.

Strings of Fate by @solelyseeking (E, 58k, WIP)

“When I touch you,” Tom says, bitterness clinging to every syllable, “I feel whole.” Harry might just be the first interesting thing that Tom has ever encountered.

Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 71k, WIP)

There's a book in Voldemort's private library that can explain this kind of magic. The cover is black and shiny and looks like it's breathing. Harry really wants to take a look at chapter three, no matter what it takes.

Tender Reigns Our Night by noumena (M, 103k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 41k, WIP)

What is possibly most damning of all is that Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges alongside his companions up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light.

The Runemaster by @kazisstillawake (E, 43k, WIP)

Harry trips on a rock and leaps through time. 1940s Hogwarts is very different from the home he is familiar with. To make matters worse, he is dumped into Slytherin – Riddle’s territory. But it’s hard to be invisible when you’re a novelty, a new student that knows too much for your own good.

the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 47k, WIP)

Harry is sent through time to the relative safety of 1963 and adopted into the Potter family. Now he’s entering his sixth year at Hogwarts in 1976, with a war brewing just outside the school walls. The last thing he needs is to catch the attention of the rising Dark Lord.

The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck (E, 28k, WIP)

Harry Potter, newly licensed Mind Healer, puts personal history aside to take on his hardest job yet. “Talk to me, please. Give me a chance to make you better.” Lord Voldemort looks downright murderous.

The Word of Your Body by @ictyn (E, 7k, WIP)

“Have you heard from him?” Albus asks. He only means one person when he asks Harry this question. He’s asked it five times in twenty years, and the answer is always the same. The only thing he knows about Tom is that he’s not dead. Harry would know if that happened. He’d feel it beating inside his heart, inside of his very soul.

Timeless by @perhaps-sunlight (E, 3k, WIP)

In which Master of Death Harry Potter time travels to the 1940s, only fixing Tom Riddle isn’t quite what he had in mind.

To the Hilt by @izharmilgram (E, 28k, WIP)

Voldemort had trusted him with the task of bringing Prince Gryffindor under his control, thus securing the future of Gryffindor within their hands. Tom would do so easily—the prince was a mere omega, docile and sweet, easily swayed—and then Gryffindor Kingdom would be folded into the Slytherin Dynasty. He would prove himself undoubtedly useful, and Voldemort would finally let him rule at his side.

Venom or Valor by @lightningant (M, 52k, WIP)

20 years old and unemployed, Harry decides to use a time turner to travel to 1946. But what he finds isn’t the proud, charismatic Dark-Lord-To-Be, but a neurotic 19-year-old Tom Riddle living quietly in the tiny flat that his retail job barely pays for, isolated and addled by chronic illness.

we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee (M, 68k, WIP)

Seer Harry who tries to write his own future, fuck prophesies and mastermind darklords and evil teachers. He will live his life, and he will enjoy it, dammit. Oh, and there's also Tom Riddle.

What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes (M, 80k, WIP)

There was a new transfer student, Tom observed at the Start-of-Term Feast as he idly twisted the Gaunt ring around his finger. Featuring a schoolboy on the precipice of becoming a monster, a powerful and mysterious newcomer to Hogwarts, and an initial spark of interest that becomes an obsession.

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 243k, WIP)

Triwizard Tournament, but Hunger Games: Tom Riddle needs to win to fulfill his plans. Cedric Diggory wants to make his family proud. Hermione wants her friends to survive. Harry wants a lot of things, including Tom Riddle. 

you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria (M, 64k, WIP)

When Harry wakes a seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle from the Gaunt's Ring, it is to a world where his future self has achieved none of their goals except one. Harry is proof that he's a great wizard after all.

*

[jensthwa]

love's an uncharted path ★ masterlist.

★ prev called: show & tell universe ★

An exploration of the eight distinct stories of friendship, love, and self-discovery that intertwine as each character faces the trials of entering adulthood and falling in and out of love.

warnings: smut, drinking and drugs, adult language and female presenting oc's (with breasts and vaginas), angst, tears and attempted comedy throughout all stories.

note: this masterlist is organized so that stories are in chronological order, although there's some context within them that range from their childhood, teen years and college years. in these stories, the guys are in their last years of college/entering their first job and tasting a bit of adulthood as they navigate through the motions and find love along the way.

MINGI'S STORY: SHOW AND TELL (bf2l).

summary: you have known mingi since you both were fourteen. you’ve been by his side through thick and thin and you would do anything for him, really, considering he’s your other half. when he has an unfortunate bed experience and asks for your help and you say yes, he starts considering that, maybe, you’re just the best friend a guy like him can have.

main story: part one (8k) & part two (11k).

extras: a very show & tell christmas (7k), tba.

WOOYOUNG'S PRELUDE: A CLOWN'S REMEDY TO HEAL A BROKEN HEART (halloween special, hookup2??).

summary: a drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. only he doesn't really know the name of the scarlet witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

posted here (11.9k).

SAN'S STORY: WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS (f2s2l).

summary: san is your first love. he broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. but his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid san when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

main story: one shot (20k).

extras: tba.

SEONGHWA'S STORY: I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU (s2l, love at first sight).

summary: in an attempt to grasp at his youth, seonghwa buys a motorcycle despite not knowing the first thing about them. when it inevitably breaks down, he has no other option that to ride it to a mechanic shop and, after following a sweet hum, he’s faced with the life-changing (and predictable) fact that, maybe, what he needed after all was not a motorcycle. maybe, just maybe, what he needed was you.

main story: one shot (20k).

extras: tba.

YUNHO'S STORY: MOUNTEBANK CHEM (e2f2l, arranged pr relationship). CURRENTLY WRITING!

summary: the first time you met yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. you didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and jeong yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. is that reason enough to hate his guts? well, of course! now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? and, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

main story: part one (9.7k), part two (14.2k), part three (16.5k), part four (24.1k), epilogue (7.08k).

extras: tba.

WHAT'S NEXT?

YEOSANG'S STORY: WIP.

HONJOONG'S STORY: WIP.

JONGHO'S STORY: WIP.

WOOYOUNG'S STORY: WIP (extra: woo's prelude / posted!).

[lipglossanon]

Until the End

Real son!Leon S. Kennedy x real mom!reader (one shot)

Warnings: incest, dead dove, mom/son, simp Leon, cnc (reader’s “not” into it at first 😉), kissing, dirty talk, teasing, oral (f receiving), just the tip 😩, unprotected sex, creampie, mommy kink to the extreme

not proofread ✍️ it’s been a while since I’ve worked on anything so hopefully this doesn’t suck lmao the ending is just kinda meh

shoutout to the discord; I posted some of this WIP and they gave me the inspo to finish 🤭

title from the Breaking Benjamin song

It’s a quiet affair when you sign the divorce papers. Your husband—of twenty four years—deciding that he’d rather live overseas with his secretary instead of sticking it out; it’s not something you would have foreseen, but as they say hindsight’s always 20/20. It upset you at first but once the indignation died down, you realize you feel more relief than anything. Things have been strained for years and then in the last five, he’s barely been home long enough to chat about your days. 

The one who took it the hardest out of anyone is Leon. Your husband offered him a place to stay, but he chose to live with you (being a mama’s boy through and through). After his father left, Leon angrily refused to speak with him anymore and instead focused on his work and trying to pick up any slack around the house. Not that you hadn’t already been doing that for years, but it’s sweet of him to want to take care of you. 

He dotes on you now, making sure you’re eating and drinking and taking care of yourself. His friends tease him about it or rib him about having a milf (which you had the unfortunate chance to overhear as you walked into the living room). Meeting Leon’s mortified gaze, you smile tightly and walk through to the kitchen. He kicks them out and apologizes profusely to you, face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he murmurs how sorry he is and promises it won’t happen again. 

Things go back to normal for a while. The absence of your husband is something you don’t even notice anymore. Leon is more than capable of moving out and living on his own, but he says it’s closer to work and easier to keep an eye on you if he lives at home. Besides, he told you with a serious face, he doesn’t have a girlfriend to make things awkward so for now you just need to chill out and let him take care of things. 

He gets a promotion at work, no longer relegated to being just a traffic cop, and you couldn’t be more proud! Your offer to take him out to a nice dinner gets turned down; in its place is an evening of take out and drinking. Since it’s the weekend, neither of you are worried about being hungover the next day, so you both end up drinking more than you usually would. 

Later, Leon walks with you from the dining room to the living room, each of you laughing at some silly joke that you can’t even remember. 

Settling together on the couch, he tucks into your side, face nuzzling against your neck like he used to do as a little boy. You giggle and run your hand through his hair. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon,” you murmur, “but aren’t you a little too old to be cuddling your mom?”

“Uh uh,” he whines, making you laugh harder, “always need you, mama.”

“Okay, okay,” you pat his head, slumping further into the couch, the alcohol buzzing through your veins, “my little boy’s all grown up.”

Feeling maudlin now at remembering that the passage of time waits for no one, you sniffle and it draws Leon’s attention.  

“What’s a’matter?” He mumbles, hazy blue eyes sharpening to see your tears, “mom?”

You smile and cup his cheek. Neither of you have shied away from physical affection; however, you remember on more than one occasion you thought Leon went overboard with cuddling and snuggling with you. Now that seems like a silly thought, he just missed you during his long hours on duty. 

“Nothing, just so proud of you,” you smile, dropping your hand to rub his shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek and you coo softly. Moving closer, he lands another soft kiss to the corner of your lips. Blaming it on the alcohol, a warm thrum of heat sings through your stomach. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, lips clumsily landing on yours. 

You freeze, body heavy and thoughts slow. Leon presses his mouth more firmly against yours and you gasp, lips parting under his and he eagerly kisses you harder. Whining, you try to tug your head away but he follows you, kisses becoming rougher while pressing you deeper against the couch. 

Your hands come up and tangle in his hair, but instead of pulling him back they scrape against his scalp, making him groan deliciously. He shifts, pulling away to tilt his head at a better angle before pressing another hot kiss against your lips. You sink into it, clit pulsing in arousal, mouth tingling from each sloppy kiss from your son.

Finally, you twist away, panting heavily while Leon rests his forehead against your jaw. 

“Mama, why’d you stop?” He presses a soft kiss under your ear, making you shiver.

“Leon, this—this isn’t right,” you plead, eyelashes fluttering as he nips and sucks your neck.

“Just this once,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin and sending chills down your body. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you, mommy.”

His words and actions are muddling your mind… and you’ve been lonely for so long. Swallowing, you breath out a shaky breath, mind made up.

“O-okay,” your body feels hot, muttering that out loud.

Moaning, he bites your jaw then kisses your cheek. “Thank you.”

He shows his appreciation by kissing the breath from your lungs; your son’s excitement ramps up your own, cunt pulsing with need as slick fills your panties. Wet, drugging kisses pass between you until you completely lose yourself to the feeling, making out with Leon until your lips are swollen. 

You jump, feeling his fingers trail along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and brushing against your panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Wanna bury my face in your pussy.”

You moan, and he teases your cunt through the soppy fabric.

“You can’t,” your hips grind down into his hand.

“Okay, promise I’ll behave,” he chuckles.

Without another word, he flips your skirt up and slips your panties down your legs to bunch at your ankles.

“Oh mommy,” he moans, fingers tracing your slit up and down before circling your clit, “your pussy’s so soft. Fuck me.”

Your hips buck and he bites his bottom lip, fingers rubbing up and down your pussy lips. 

“So, so soft,” he whispers, eyes glued to where his fingers are touching, “my stubble’s gonna feel so rough when I kiss her, mama.”

You whine high and reedy but shake your head, “No, no, this is all I’m allowing, Leon. You promised.”

“Just a kiss or two,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “she needs it, look how soft and sweet she is, just begging for my mouth. C’mon, mama, just let me have a couple of kisses.”

Your resolve cracks at his pleading. 

“Just a couple, then we stop,” you try to sound firm but your voice comes out breathier than you’d like. 

“Mmhmm, thank you, mama,” he kisses the side of your cheek then the corner of your lips.

You feel a little disappointed that he stops to kneel between your legs. He brings his hands up to spread apart your cunt, slick dripping from your hole as his mouth hovers over your mound. 

“Oh fuck, mom,” Leon whines, tongue lapping at your clit, “so fucking wet. Am I making you this wet? God, your pussy’s so fucking sexy.”

Another groan and he’s fluttering his tongue across your pudgy bud before sucking it gently into his mouth. He pulls back and kisses the hood of your clit. You moan softly and cant your hips up. 

“W-we shouldn’t, baby,” you plead, fingers tangling in his hair again, but not pushing him away. 

“Been wanting to do this forever, dreaming about how I wanna lick your pretty pussy til you cream all over my face,” he pants, dilated eyes watching your face, “gonna make you cum over and over tonight.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue into your pussy, walls clamping around the slippery muscle, “Leon! 

He hums and grinds his nose against your clit as his tongue fucks in and out of your hole, spit dripping down your ass onto the couch cushions. Your eyes flutter as your orgasm winds tight in your abdomen. 

“Need to eat you out everyday, mama,” he pulls back, slick shining across his lips and chin, “treat this pussy like she deserves. Don’t you wanna feel good?”

He sucks your clit back into his mouth, hot tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. It only takes a few more teasing licks before your climax breaks over your body like a tidal wave. Toes curling, your hands tug on his hair making him moan, tonguing at your fluttering cunt until he finally pulls away with one last sucking kiss. 

He crowds you on the couch, thick forearms hooking under your knees to keep you spread open. He nods down to his jeans; your eyes flit from his face to the bulge pressing obscenely against his zipper. 

“Pull it out,” he murmurs, blue eyes nearly black. “Take my cock out so I can stuff your cunt, mommy.”

Shaking your head, your voice cracks, “No, baby. That’s going too far.”

He whines, “But it hurts, mama. You’re being so mean. At least jerk me off.”

Biting your lip, his pouty mouth has you reaching forward, undoing his pants and tugging them down his thighs. You gently ease his dick from his briefs, uncut head sticky with precum. You both moan when you grip his stiff cock, the blood hot skin against your palm turning you on more than you ever thought. Thumb pressing against the slit, you smear the pearlescent sheen across his tip until he’s whimpering. 

“Mommy,” his hips thrust forward, “it’s sensitive.” 

He sags forward, and your legs slide up his arms until your calves press against his biceps. This new position has his dick grinding against your swollen cunt, the head grazing across your pudgy clit. Your fingers loosely circle the base of his cock, the backs of your knuckles brushing against his balls. 

“So good, fuck,” he chokes out, humping your pussy. “Just let me cum like this, let me mark you up, mama. Yeah, just coat this sexy fucking pussy with my cum.”

Keening, you let go of his cock to feather your fingers against his heavy balls. “You can, you can cum all over me.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, pink lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as he watches his cock slip between your pussy lips to rub against your hole. “Mommy, just let me put the tip in, please? Promise it’ll just be the tip. Please.”

You know you should say no, but then again you should’ve put a stop to this before it even started. Just the tip wouldn’t be so bad, you think, eyes greedily taking in his fat, drippy tip. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try it out.

“Just the tip, Leon,” you murmur, flicking up to meet his blown out gaze. “But only this once.”

“Thank you,” he groans, “love you so much, mama.”

Moving one hand from his hold on your leg, he grips his cock and guides the head to your clenching hole. His thumb presses down on the head as he rocks forward, slipping the tip into your wet cunt. You suck in a deep breath at the same time he grunts. The other hand gripping your thigh tightens, fingertips tightly digging into the soft skin. 

Leon blows out a breath, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “You feel so good.”

He ruts the head of his cock in and out of your pussy, the wet schlick loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Your hands move over your head to drape over the back of the couch, fingers grasping at the cushions. 

“Can I—,” he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. “Can I go a little deeper, mommy?”

Your slick hole clenches down on him and he whimpers. 

“H-how much deeper?” You hear yourself say, mouth running away from you. 

“Just an inch or two,” he gasps, feeling overwhelmed by the heat of your cunt. “Pretty please, mommy.”

You nod, eyes unable to look away from where he’s splitting you open, dick driving deeper and deeper—going so much farther than a few inches—into your pussy until he’s completely buried in your pulsing walls. 

“Leon!” You cry out, head falling back as your cunt stretches around the fat girth of his cock.

“Sorry, mama,” he practically slurs, pussy drunk already. “Didn’t mean to, it just slipped.”

You whimper at the pleasure pain of his tip kissing your cervix as he grinds himself against your cunt. Clit rubbing against his pelvis makes you squeeze and clench around his dick, in turn making him groan from deep in his chest. He barely pulls out before fucking back into your sopping wet hole. 

“So perfect,” his face pinches in pleasure. “God, mom, your pussy—gonna make me cum so fast.”

You dig your hands into the couch and roll your hips down into his thrusts, “You need to pull out, baby. It’s bad to cum inside. You’ve gotta pull out of mommy’s cunt.”

He makes a broken sound from the back of his throat and drives his cock into you with harsh, pounding thrusts. 

“No, I’m gonna cum in you, make you nice and full,” he bites out, sweat dripping from the straight line of his nose onto you. “Stuff you so full, mama.”

You can’t hide how his words make your pussy clamp down on his cock, his own hips stuttering as your cunt tries to milk his cock. 

“Yeah, mommy, squeezing me so good, so fucking good,” he pants. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

He reaches down, hot palm a brand across your mound as his thumb teases your clit. You thrash against him, but it’s no use as he strums your swollen bud in rough little circles that makes your thighs tremble. 

“Leon,” you moan, a second orgasm quickly building in your core. “Oh god, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop the frantic pumping of his hips, fucking his cock into your squelching heat while he rubs your clit—his blue eyes jumping between your face and your pussy. Mouth dropping open, he groans, mumbling praises and promises under his breath. Pinching your clit between the knuckles of his first and middle finger, he gives pulsing squeezes to the sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re cumming loudly. 

Your back bows, fireworks going off in your brain, dimly realizing that Leon’s gripping your hips as he wildly fucks your cunt. 

“Fuck, fuck, mom,” he chokes on the word, burying himself balls deep in your soft, wet walls and spilling his thick cum as deep as possible. 

You whimper, squeezing down on him as the hot splash of his spend fills your cunt. He eventually stills, hips still snugly pressed against you as close as possible. Slick and jizz begin to slowly leak out from around his softening cock. He hisses when he pulls out, then immediately whimpers, fingers playing with his cum dripping from your hole.

“Leon, stop, it’s sensitive,” you gasp, eyes slipping closed when his fingers slide up to rub across your fat clit. 

“Sorry, mama,” he pulls back only to drop to his knees, eyes dark, mouth hovering tantalizingly close to your sloppy cunt. “Let me kiss it better.”

[cvnt4him]

Diaries of Spider-Man.

ch1

Dear diary; what was I thinking?!

synopsis; the disastrous "adventures" of a teenaged spiderman.

This is a WIP, please let me know your thoughts and if this is what you would like to see from me<3

“let's do this one.. last.. time...”

“my name is izuku midoriya, and for the past 3 years, I've been the one and only spiderman. Annnd, I'm pretty sure you know the rest..”

₊˚⊹

Izuku jots away in his notebook before taking a step back to read what little he's written. the groan that escaped his lips was quite audible. He was rather disappointed in what he's written.

When his therapist "prescribed" him to journaling or writing down his thoughts in a notebook which he didn't want to refer to as a diary, his initial thought was;

‘theres no way in hell writing things down would help me.’

However for the past three years, izuku found himself writing everything he could down in those measly little journals his therapist gave him. Each and every year the thick and huge diary journal she gave him would begin to get fuller and fuller of all of his little adventures or simple daily routines.

Izuku was nothing if not a stubborn little shit at times. Of course he would disagree heavily but facts don't lie. You can't tell this energetic know it all anything. He's really smart and well put together. Most of the time. Upon becoming spiderman he hasn't had a lot of time for much. His consistent tasks of being spiderman are always heavy and time consuming. He doesn't have time to study for his driver's test, his normal class tests which define if he passes the grade and gets into college, or even dinner half the time?!

To be frank; the poor thing has been through a lot the past years. Too much honestly. Izukus "power" awakening was an honest mistake. Like your typical movie spiderman, he was bitten by a radioactive spider whilst he was doing something he knew he had no business doing

₊˚⊹

To go back exactly three years 4 months and 17 days ago, you would find a 14/15 year old izuku breaking into an abandoned home with none other than his typical, usual, partners in crime.

Katsuki bakugou and y/n l/n.

Izuku knew it was a bad idea from the beginning, however he always followed the two of you into stupid situations that could eventually get you killed. In this case, it almost did. Izuku helped you get through the window the three of you had busted by letting you climb onto his shoulders, katsuki who had laid his jacket over the glass so none of you would cut yourselves, grabbed you by your arms and pulled you in, the both of you then helped izuku in with basically the same method.

“woah.. spooky.”

“ heh.. it reeks in here.”

You giggled at katsukis exclaim, making izuku pout slightly. He sighed to himself, not wanting to admit the blonde was correct.

“ you guys i- i really don't think we should— ”

“ hey check it out! there are spray paint cans in here!”

Katsuki yells running to the other room with numerous cans of spray paint. You followed him like a dumb lost puppy leaving izuku to groan and follow behind you both.

There were many graffiti stamps left behind from many different people, obviously they had left behind their spray paint for some odd reason, that's what really intrigued izuku.

“ tch, hey deku, get over here so we can sign our names!”

Izuku jogs closer to you two shivering to himself at all the spiderwebs covering the cans. It was dusty and quite eerie inside of this place. Izuku truthfully wanted no part. You and katsuki signed your names right next to each other with little quirky doodles next to them, izuku soon followed suit. He picked up the green can of paint and signed his name ‘izuku’

“ no no, put deku! ‘ts way better than ‘izuku’!”

The way katsuki could make izuku feel bad about his given name should've been studied. And they way you were quick to agree hurt the poor boy even more. He soon crossed out izuku and put ‘Deku’ big and boldly. It was all alone compared to how closely the two of your names were.

The two of you had long began to explore elsewhere, leaving izuku wondering where you two went off to.

“hey! Come in here izu- I mean deku!”

You yell out catching his attention, he follows the sound of your voice to find you two the small critter crawling up his back going completely unnoticed. Some time passed and it only got later and later, izuku was still hesitant about being there but the two of you just kept going deeper and deeper inside of the manor.

Izuku rushes inside of the next room, breaking contact with whatever artifacts caught his eye. He looked for the two of you calling out your names with no answer, he was confused and quite scared, where could the two of you have gone?

“ boo!”

Izuku jumped back falling down to the ground and scraping his little hands.

“ow..!”

Izuku winced at the sudden sting of not only his hands but the pinch of his skin itching and being very irritated next to his neck, he slapped it and the arachnid soon fell into his hands. With a shutter he threw the spider out of his hands feeling rather jittery after the encounter.

“ are you alright, izuku?!“

You were quick to rush over to him. It was simply supposed to be a little harmless joke, he wasn't supposed to get hurt. You helped him up and dusted him off as well heading katsuki suck his teeth in response.

“ yes, i- I'm fine. I've gotten bitten by a spider however.. one unlike any other I've ever seen.. we should head back so I can tell my mom.”

“ oh, oka-”

“ no.”

Katsuki was quick to shut down before you could get out your sentence. You both turned to look at him he seemed angry a bit as if something completely ruined his mood.

“ if you tell your mom we could get in trouble, she might tell my mom who might tell y/ns. you don't want us getting in trouble, do you deku.”

The way katsuki used the nickname against him made his stomach feel sick. He gulped down the rising bile in his throat and coughed lowly.

“ katsuki he got hurt, shouldn't he-”

“ no! I'm not getting in trouble because wimpy deku wanted to be an easy scare!”

“thats not fair katsuki!”

The two of you started bickering, leaving him out causing him to sigh. He felt a bit weird.. kind of dizzy and out of breath as if he'd been running. It was growing warm and he had began sweating, hyperventilating as if he needed to catch his breath.

The sounds of him caught your attention and suddenly the boy looked quite weak, frail of some sort.

“ izuku..? are you...alright?”

Katsuki sooner looked over to see izuku hardly keeping his balance, he wouldn't admit it but he was quite worried at the sight of him.

“ let's go.”

Was all katsuki said as he grabbed izuku by the hand and ran back towards the broken window the three of you came in.

The two of you got izuku home in one piece for the most part, he was dizzy and hardly standing up on his own, the running had him so our of breath it was almost like he was having an anxiety attack. He probably was to be honest, izuku was a very anxious boy. His anxiety levels were very high at all times, with the growing symptoms in his body and the bite from the spider he was so worried about what was happening to him he most likely started having a panic attack whilst running. Luckily he was home now, you and katsuki beat on his door as you heard him mom yelling she was coming.

She opens the door with a smile to see the three of you out of breath with a dead looking izuku, the sight startled his mother causing her to pick up her son and rush him to the hospital. Both yours and katsukis parents had been called and had quite a talk with inko who was worried sick about her son, yelling at your parents and explaining how she has no idea what happened.

You two didn't speak to each other once. Not even looking at each other. Both your parents had taken you and katsuki back home. After that night you'd never spoken to katsuki or izuku ever again..

Izuku was completely fine however. Those symptoms may have been bad but that was all it was. He was able to go home that same day and the doctors called it a simple panic/anxiety attack. His mother was worried sick for no reason.

From that moment forward things only began to get weirder for this normal teenaged boy.

₊˚⊹

Izuku sat at his desk reading his old journals of how he believes he got his powers, scoffing to himself at the memories. He had all his books all over his desk in a completely messy pile nose buried in his book as someone walked over and bumped his desk back into him, it lightly hit him in the stomach causing him to drop the journal in the desk and the desk of the books that were formerly there onto the floor.

He scoffed in annoyance looking up to see you with a shit eating grin on your face as you scowled down at him, not even apologizing as you walked out of the classroom.

Izuku seen as the classroom was completely empty, just him and his messy books all over the floor. He sighed and crouched down picking them up and shoving them into his backpack. His phone vibrated in his back pocket, he picked up up to see w text from his friends.

‘ hey! Meet us in the front?’

That singular text from ochako was all he needed for a small smile to form on his freckled cheeks. Just as he was about to put it away there was a pop up from the news channel he had downloaded on his phone, something about a criminal stealing from a jewelry shop.

He sighed to himself and texted her back explaining he wouldn't be able to meet them and that he'd just head home. However that wasn't the case. He ran out the back door of the school pushing through some students earning some angry and annoyed remarks spat at him; but he didnt have time to care. He ran behind some building and quickly slipped his suit on. He'd rather skip the embarrassing details..

Just as he was about to 'web away' he got a call from none other than katsuki bakugou. Izuku jumped and nearly dropped his phone at the sudden ringing, he quickly answers without thinking, lifting his mask over his mouth to speak,

“ oi nerd, y’heard about that criminal stealing that diamond or whatever?”

The normally volcanic boy has a soft tone still laced with a bit of redness and sass.

“ yes, kacchan, and before you called I was just about getting there so if y’dont mind!!!!”

The blond scoffs on the other side, chuckling as he snorts at his sass. Izuku groaned at the sound of him laughing and simply hung up swinging away as quickly as he could.

“ look up there! It's spiderman!!”

People squealed and yelled at the familiar colors of izukus suit, black along the sides and a deep green painting the front and back of his skin tight suit, and a big white spider over the chest. He'd made the suit when he was younger and had started working out he'd wanted to show it off but as of now he thinks it's quite unnecessary..

He swung through the crowds waving and smiling under the mask, as tiring as being spiderman was he was always thankful for the love he'd gotten. They truly made him feel valuable, izuku struggled with self confidence a lot, it's common in people like that to enjoy attention from all.

It wasn't that izuku needed to be humbled or anything but....izuku swung down an alley that reports seen the criminal go down, supposedly the diamond they had stolen was a very important artifact from ancient times or whatever, moral of the story was he needed to get it back to where it belonged! Izuku could do that!

He dropped in front of the criminal with a hero stance making him appear big n bad in front of them.

“ stop! give me that diamond, criminal!”

Izuku was obsessed with action movies when he was younger, his favorite actor was custom to working in them. He always imagined being a superhero and technically he is! However within these three years the fame and glory really went to his head ..

The criminal halted, izuku tried stepping closer to retrieve the diamond in a cool manner, speaking to the cloaked person in a soft voice trying to get them to come to their senses like some kind of......main character. To izukus surprise they pulled out a crossbow. He was stunned at the size of it,

“ how- how did that fit inside of your— ”

Before izuku could get the rest of his sentence out the criminal shot the arrow, it completely piercing izukus shoulder. He yelled out in pain nearly falling to his knees, that then made him realize that was no joke, this person being unlike any other petty thief hes gone up against.

As the criminal kicked izuku to the ground with a bare boot while he was holding his injured and punctured shoulder they quickly made haste and ran past him out of the alley, crowds soon coming up after the person ran away and seeing izuku clutching his shoulder run pain, all of them having different emotions on his face it would be an understatement to say he was embarrassed.

What had he thought that he was just invincible? Izuku struggled into his knees hearing whispers from the crowd and quickly tried his best to attempt swinging away with a singular arm, his left to be exact and that wasn't his maiden arm either. Izuku was fully right handed and did everything with it, with his right arm basically out of commission he did his best to swing with his left hand but...

He eventually wobbled and hit a sign, he was going at a high speed as well trying to hide his shame and find the person who did this to him, as his body came into full contract with the sign knocking every little bit of air out if his body the arrow got pushed deeper, making izuku groan in agony once more. Blood wetting his skin and suit as it dropped down, he didn't take the arrow out before because he thought about how it would cause him to bleed out and wouldn't be any good...now he wished he had.

He held onto the large sign and tried to swing away once more, he eventually got the hang of it for a little while managing to drop himself behind a building. He leaned against the wall of it and groaned, he wanted to take his suit off but it wouldn't be a good idea, anyone could've followed him or even tried to see who he was. It wasn't a good idea.

With every ounce of energy and strength in his body he pushed himself up from sliding to the ground and called who he knew he could.

“ yo?”

“ ka..kacchan... I need your...your help..”

₊˚⊹

AN: this is js a WIP lemme know what y'all think n if I should add or like yk leave out some things!!!!

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

Peeping on your neighbor DILF!Getou Suguru [next]

Here I go again starting something new when my drafts are full of WIPs...

Consider this Getou's 35th bday gift 💋

[fanart by: @polariae on X (#needhim) / cw: peeping]

Everyone has guilty pleasures—secret indulgences they hide from prying eyes, vices they pretend don’t exist.

But no matter how satisfying they may be, how deeply they scratch that internal itch, reality always comes crashing down. And when it does, it cuts deep, jagged shards of shame slicing through delusion.

The worst realizations come after you’ve sunk too far, waded too deep into depravity, so numb to your own self-indulgence that you can’t even recognize it for what it is. Like the old tale of the frog in boiling water—oblivious to its slow, inevitable demise.

And right now? Being awake before even the birds have stirred, wedged between your thick curtains and the wall, peering through the narrow slit with bated breath?

That’s your boiling water.

You lift your arm carefully, tapping your smartwatch. The dim glow illuminates the numbers.

4:55 AM.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. Even the faintest intake of air feels like a risk, as if he might somehow sense your presence.

It’s happening.

Slowly, he stands from the black velvet club chair, folding his newspaper—the Times, maybe?—with meticulous precision before setting it on the bed. He stretches, arms lifting over his head, his body rolling fluidly as he shakes off the last remnants of sleep. A slow bounce on the balls of his feet. A lazy roll of his shoulders.

Then he moves toward the closet, flicking the light on.

You barely stifle a squeak.

Illuminated, his sleep-heavy eyes remain hooded, half-lidded with exhaustion. He crosses his arms over the hem of his faded gray sleep shirt and lifts it in one smooth motion. The fabric slides over his toned torso, revealing the defined cut of his V-line, the faint trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband. His flannel pants dip dangerously low on his hips.

Your mouth goes dry.

As he rifles through his wardrobe, his back muscles flex under the shifting light, honey-bronzed skin rippling as he moves. He pulls out a crisp, white button-up, holding it to the light. The subtle gleam of a barbell piercing peeks through his nipple.

You swallow—loudly.

The wet click of it makes you cringe in embarrassment, even though you’re entirely alone.

You sink down, sliding soundlessly against the wall until you’re curled into yourself, head in your hands.

I have got to get a grip.

𓂃۶ৎ

“You’ve got to get a grip.”

Across from you, Yu stares, wide-eyed and incredulous.

His big, brown eyes are filled with concern, lips pressed into a thin, grim line. He reaches across the table, placing a warm hand over your own, rubbing your knuckles in reassurance.

“I say this with the utmost love and care,” he begins, voice low and serious, “but you are genuinely starting to scare me.”

You tilt your head, amused despite yourself. Placing your other hand over his, you give him a saccharine smile.

“And I fear your love life is even scarier,” you quip, “considering you and Nanami are disgustingly smitten with each other but refuse to do anything about it.”

Yu groans, yanking his hand back as he slumps into his seat.

You’ve been working with Yu for five years now at a highly accredited education company, officially as tutors but often picking up shifts in the adjoining daycare. He’s been a constant source of fresh air in your life—unrelentingly optimistic, perpetually happy, and the only thing keeping you sane when bratty kids, back-talking teens, and overbearing parents strip away every ounce of your patience.

And for the past two years, a certain someone has been an added incentive to showing up.

Nanami Kento.

Tall, broad, devastatingly handsome. Blonde hair, sharp features, and an air of refined old money. He first enrolled his younger brother, Yuji, in tutoring classes two years ago, exasperated by the boy’s athletic prowess but academic struggles.

Nanami, ever the composed professional, is a bank analyst with little time to spare—especially for schoolwork. But despite his packed schedule, he always makes time to bring Yuji in himself. And, without fail, he always requests Yu as Yuji’s tutor.

Nanami never hovers, never interferes—but he stays. Every time. MacBook open, glasses perched low on his nose, working in the corner while his gaze flickers to Yuji…and, more often than not, lingers on Yu.

They’re not slick.

Yu, for all his confidence, is an absolute mess around Nanami. He stumbles over his words, turns an embarrassing shade of pink, and loses all train of thought. Meanwhile, Nanami remains perfectly composed—save for the occasional, barely-there smirk when Yu flusters himself into silence.

It’s infuriatingly adorable.

But despite their obvious mutual pining, neither of them has made a move. You’ve tried to nudge them along, but they’re both stubborn as hell. They have to get there on their own.

Maybe you should have a little chat with Yuji—

“Hey! Hey!”

Yu waves a hand wildly in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I know that smirk! Stop scheming.” His expression darkens. “And focus—you wanted to talk about your situation, remember? I have, like, five minutes left on my break.”

Right.

You lean back, exhaling slowly. Recounting the sick, twisted ways you’ve gone from having a harmless crush on your thirty-five-year-old neighbor to full-on stalking him is…a lot.

So you clean up the details.

You leave out the part where you wake up at the crack of dawn just to watch him get dressed. Or how you happen to be outside every afternoon when his daughters get home from school, conveniently offering them sweets as if it’s just a coincidence.

Everyone has flaws. Yours just happen to feel entirely justified every time you’re blessed with the sight of Getou Suguru—all six feet of sculpted muscle, dressed in tailored suits and expensive watches, long hair pulled into a tight bun, sharp violet eyes glinting behind sleek glasses.

And if that wasn’t enough, the way he is with his daughters—that obliterates any remaining shred of reason.

On weekends, he’s outside your apartment complex in casual clothes, guiding them along the sidewalk on their little pink tricycles. He smiles at them, warm and genuine, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

He moved in a year ago.

And in eleven months, you’ve lost a lifetime’s worth of dignity and grace thirsting over the DILF next door.

Well—not next door, but close enough. Your balconies face each other.

You discovered this little fact a couple of weeks after he moved in.

It had been a casual meeting at first—one of those neighborly exchanges where introductions are made in passing. You were returning from work, tired but relieved to be home, and he had just finished enrolling his daughters in school. He had held the lobby door open for you, a simple courtesy, saving you from the trouble of buzzing yourself in.

You’d jogged a little to close the distance, not wanting to keep him waiting. As you passed through, you turned to thank him, fully prepared to run off—but he stopped you with a radiant smile.

“Hello, I haven’t had the pleasure of introducing myself yet.” He scratched the back of his neck, letting the door swing shut behind him. “We’re new to the building.”

Then, with a gesture toward the two girls at his side, he continued, “This one’s Nanako,”—the jumpy, golden-haired child practically vibrating with energy—“and this is Mimiko.” The brunette clung to his leg, wary but curious.

“They’re adorable,” you had told them warmly.

“Now, girls, what do we say to the nice lady?”

“Thank you, nice lady!” Nanako chirped.

Mimiko mumbled a soft, “Thanks.”

Getou chuckled, ruffling her hair before leaning down to press a kiss to her crown. “Don’t be shy, honey. It’s okay.”

Mimiko tightened her grip on his leg, holding onto him as though you might whisk her father away if she let go.

As he straightened, a sharp breeze carried the scent of musky sandalwood and lavender from him, teasing your senses in a way that felt almost intimate.

“They’re still a little frazzled from the move,” he admitted in a mock whisper, “Don’t tell, but some nights I’ve been sneaking them candy for dessert—except it’s just melatonin.”

You had giggled at his confession, and his lips had ticked upward at the sound.

“I’m Getou, by the way,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “But if I’ll be seeing you often, feel free to call me Suguru—I’m not uptight.”

You’d introduced yourself, mentioning that you were native to the area and worked as a tutor, meaning you were well-versed in the local children’s events. As you spoke, he listened attentively, nodding along to every other word, his eye contact steady. You had to fight every intrusive thought about how distractingly attractive he was—how much you wanted to press your tongue to the line of his jaw, trace the length of his throat.

Not the time. Definitely not the time.

By the time numbers had been exchanged for “neighborly inquiries,” you’d realized you lived on the same floor.

“Well, would you look at that~” He had chuckled, amused by the coincidence.

You’d smiled, bid the girls farewell, and assured Getou he could reach out if he ever needed anything. But the moment you turned away—oh, God. You had to fight the urge to squeal, mouthing a silent oh my God to yourself as you hurried to your apartment, barely processing the fact that an incredibly sexy dad lived just a few doors down.

Then came the accidental discovery.

The first time you caught him dressing in front of his window had been pure chance.

You’d been up early—5 AM, thanks to your turn to let in the clean-up crew for your workplace’s monthly deep clean. Half-awake and desperate for coffee, you had shuffled into your kitchen, only to catch a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision.

And there he was.

Shirtless. Wet.

His long, damp hair fell in dark ribbons down his back, droplets clinging to his skin, catching the dim morning light. He was flipping through a newspaper, one hand resting on his chin, brow furrowed in thought. His serious expression made your brain short-circuit—sending it spiraling into dangerous territory.

A strict professor making you stay after class.

A mean dom forcing you into submission.

A strict boss calling you into his office, locking the door.

You had to physically shake the thoughts away, dragging your gaze back to your coffee like it was a lifeline.

Then he cracked his neck, flexed his fingers, and carefully laid a pair of black work pants across his bed, arranging his outfit with meticulous precision. That was when you realized—you had unintentionally learned his morning routine.

And you weren’t proud to admit that you had grown to love it.

Your favorite part? When he stood before the mirror, brushing out his hair.

He always looked so at peace during that ritual—like it was something grounding, something necessary. It was the last thing he did before spritzing on cologne and stepping out for the day.

Now, sitting across from Yu in the breakroom, you finally admit to your… situation.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?” Yu asks, frowning. “Or—God forbid—a wife?”

You wave him off. “No way. If he had a wife, she would’ve been mentioned. Even a girlfriend—I would’ve seen her by now.”

Yu cringes. “Right.”

He places both hands flat on the table, inhaling like he is about to deliver some sage wisdom. “You need to do what I do—just keep running into him, talk to him, wear him down until you two become close.”

You give him a look. “So I can be friend-zoned for a year? No, thanks.”

Yu turns up his nose. “So rude. Even when I try to help.” He pushes back his chair dramatically. “I’ll be on my way.”

He stomps off toward the door, only to pause, his bangs brushing against his lashes as he peeks back in.

“But text me later, okay?” he says with a smirk. “We’ll figure something out if we put our heads together.”

You huff a laugh. What a sweet guy. Even your obsessive behavior hasn’t scared him away.

The rest of your shift passes in a blur. You spend the final hour tutoring Sam—a regular who somehow always smells like cheese puffs and leaves everything he touches sticky. When his dad finally picks him up, you all but shove the sign-out sheet toward him, making a beeline for the bathroom to scrub your hands clean.

𓂃۶ৎ

A hot shower is calling your name as you skillfully back into your designated parking space, humming to yourself before stepping out of the car.

The moment your foot hits the pavement, the familiar sound of drunken laughter and hollering echoes through the garage. Of course. Your downstairs neighbors—wasted out of their minds. Again. On a Wednesday.

Rolling your eyes, you make your way toward the exit, only to find yourself in full view of the rowdy group perched on the hood of a sports car parked obnoxiously across multiple spaces. Among them is a guy you’ve seen before—arguing with his then-girlfriend at ungodly hours over god-knows-what. Spiky pink hair, gelled into stiff peaks, paired with a tight white tank top despite the night chill. You’ve never spoken to him, barely spared him a glance, but tonight, for whatever reason, he has something to prove.

“YO! HEY, YO!”

You ignore him, keeping your pace steady.

“Aye, I know you hear me! C’mere real quick!”

Your jaw tightens. You shoot him a glare but don’t stop, closing the distance to the door.

“Aww, don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he drawls, clearly reveling in the attention of his friends. “That’s not very neighborly. I just gotta ask you a quick question.”

You exhale sharply, finally turning to face him and his little audience. “What the fuck do you want? You can ask from there.”

He scoffs, spitting onto the pavement. “Damn, no need to be a bitch about it.” He jerks his chin toward one of his friends. “My boy here thinks you look good, wanted to get them digits, but you ain’t even all that to be actin’ like this.”

A dry, humorless laugh escapes you as you prop a hand on your hip. “Funny, ‘cause from where I’m standing, you’re the one desperate for my attention. Screams ‘bitch’ to me—but go off.”

His friends snicker, their amusement only deepening his scowl. He swings his legs off the hood, standing up with an air of aggression. The moment he takes a step forward, your fingers slip into your bag, wrapping around the familiar cylinder of mace.

Six steps to the door.

His bloodshot eyes, the reek of weed clinging to his clothes—it sends your senses into high alert. If he lunges, you’ll spray him.

“Stuck-up bitch.”

A firm hand presses against the small of your back, guiding you away just as the tension peaks.

You startle, spinning with the mace raised—only to freeze when you find yourself looking up at Getou Suguru.

And he looks pissed.

Brows furrowed, lips pressed into a firm line, the sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows like he’s ready to handle this personally.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Sukuna?” His voice is low, rough, demanding.

Your grip on the mace loosens as you exhale, the warmth of Getou’s hand steady on your back. You’re not helpless, but dealing with scum like Sukuna? That’s the last thing you want after a long day.

Sukuna’s posture falters for half a second before he scoffs. “Relax, man. Just wanted to talk. No need for the hero act.”

“I’m pretty sure she would’ve handled you herself,” Getou counters coolly. “But I figured I’d remind you that you’re one misdemeanor away from that assault and battery charge becoming a felony. So watch yourself.”

Sukuna’s arrogance wavers. His jaw tightens as he glances at Getou, weighing his options before choosing the safer one—retreating back to his car.

“If I catch you pulling this shit again,” Getou continues, “I’ll personally ensure you get a speedy trial—as is your constitutional right.”

The group piles into the car in tense silence. As the engine roars to life, Getou pulls his hand away from your back like he’s just realized it’s there.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, stepping back. “I didn’t mean to—” He sighs, shaking his head. “It just pissed me off seeing him try that with you. You don’t deserve that.”

He smiles, but there’s a quiet sadness to it, as if he’s seen too much of this before.

“I don’t think you know this,” he adds, voice softer, “but I run a non-profit for domestic violence survivors. We’ve helped house a few of Sukuna’s former partners. Got them legal support, protection. He’s—” His jaw clenches. “He’s worse than he looks.”

You take in the weight of his words. On one hand, you’re grateful for his work, knowing how important it is. On the other, the thought of Sukuna being a repeat offender makes your stomach turn.

“Don’t apologize,” you tell him, offering a small, genuine smile. “I appreciate you stepping in. Macing him would’ve ruined my whole night—pepper spray’s a bitch to wash out.”

That earns a quiet chuckle from Getou, the tension easing.

“Sure would’ve been a nuisance,” he agrees.

As you walk toward the building together, you steal a glance at him—at the way the moonlight catches in his hair, reflecting off a few stray gray strands. His jawline is sharp in the dim glow, the curve of his cheekbone accentuated in a way that makes your heart stutter. You watch as a calloused finger brushes his bangs back, tucking them behind his ear.

Ever the gentleman, he holds the door open for you and walks you all the way to your apartment. At your door, he rests a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Be safe,” he says. “And if you ever feel unsafe, don’t hesitate to reach out. Okay?”

You nod, feigning composure, but he sees right through it.

He narrows his eyes slightly. “Not good enough. Promise me.”

You huff, rolling your eyes before holding up a pinky. “Alright, alright. I promise.”

A slow smirk tugs at his lips as he hooks his pinky around yours, the warmth of his touch lingering even after he lets go.

“Good girl.”

The praise haunts you for the rest of the night, looping in your head like a broken record. You spend hours lying awake, spamming Yu with frantic, half-incoherent texts detailing every second of what just happened.

𓂃۶ৎ

The following week, you don’t see him—not in the hall, not in passing. And though you tell yourself you’re being ridiculous, the lack of interaction leaves you feeling… disappointed. You want to text him, but without a real reason, it feels weird. You’re just his neighbor, after all—and at least a decade younger than him.

Still, you catch glimpses of him in the mornings. His routine never changes, but you do notice something new—he’s started drinking tea with his morning newspaper.

You wonder what sparked the change.

Then, on Friday night, your phone buzzes with a notification. A text.

Getou Suguru Hello. This is Suguru, your neighbor. Got any eggs?

You stare at the screen, blinking. That is… certainly an approach.

You: I do! Need me to bring a couple over? I don’t mind.

Getou Suguru: Oh, thank god. Would you? You’re a lifesaver.

You: Yeah, it’s just eggs. I’ll be right over!

You toss your phone onto the counter, glancing down at your loungewear—a silk two-piece pajama set, your favorite. Soft to the touch, effortlessly comfortable. Deciding it’s appropriate enough given the hour, you slip on your slippers, grab the carton of eggs, and head for his door.

Getou’s apartment has a personalized doormat at the entrance, The Getou Family scripted in bold cursive. Cute. You knock lightly, mindful of any sleeping children. A few moments later, footsteps approach, and the door swings open.

And it’s… not what you expect.

Getou stands there, hand on the knob, dressed in a sleek black turtleneck and chocolate-brown cargos—an effortlessly clean-cut look if not for the pink, frilly “Kiss the Cook” apron haphazardly tied around his waist. His long hair is braided loosely over his shoulder, stray strands falling over his forehead, and he looks utterly defeated—his entire body dusted in flour, even in his hair.

You giggle before you can stop yourself.

“Finding humor in my misery, are we?”

You barely manage to stifle your laughter behind your hand as he steps aside, ushering you in.

“Maybe just a little.” You poke at the apron first, smirking. “Well, don’t you look adorable?”

He swats your hand away with a playful huff, taking the eggs from you and leading the way into the kitchen—which is immediately visible. And immediately disastrous.

Flour streaks the counters. Sugar coats one side of the island. Three bowls, filled with dough in various colors, sit among a chaotic spread of every imaginable baking utensil. The only thing not in complete disarray is the rest of the apartment—modern, sleek black decor, perfectly organized, with a wall full of adorable photos of the girls over the years.

You whistle, taking it all in. “My god… what did you do?”

Getou sighs, brushing off flour from his sleeve in a half-hearted attempt to clean himself.

“My buddy Gojo had the girls today. Took them to a science museum, then dinner, and spoiled them, so naturally, they will be too hyped to care about me when they get home.” He gestures vaguely to the mess. “Thought I’d win them back over with homemade cookies since they love sweets. As you can see, I’m not exactly a natural.”

You move to the island, flipping an overturned bag of flour upright, salvaging whatever hasn’t already been sacrificed to the countertop.

“Clearly.”

Getou grabs an egg and cracks it over a bowl of light caramel-colored dough.

“Hey, I can’t be good at everything.”

You squint at his movements, catching the inconsistency in his technique. “Still cocky, huh?”

You peer into the bowl. This is definitely his third attempt at the dough.

“Instead of making another batch, maybe try tasting this one first? Are you even following a recipe?”

He taps sugar-dusted fingers against his chin. “Not exactly. I was going off memory. My mom used to make cookies for me when I was little, but… I may have mixed up a few ingredients.”

Before he can stop you, you dip a finger into the dough and bring it to your mouth.

“Don’t do that!” He wags a flour-covered finger at you, scandalized. “There’s raw egg in there—you’ll get salmonella.”

You grin, unfazed. “It’s just a little taste. And I can tell you’re missing vanilla. The sweetness is off, and it’ll help bind the flavors together.”

His violet eyes widen slightly before lighting up in realization. “Oh, right! Of course! Let me add some!”

Watching him scramble around the kitchen, searching for the vanilla like a deer learning to walk, is nothing short of endearing.

Together, you tweak the recipe—adding a little cinnamon, a sprinkle of nutmeg, some roughly chopped pecans. He lifts a mixing spoon to your lips, and you taste again.

This time? Sweet, only a hint of saltiness, and the nutty pecans bring a rich depth to the dough.

“It’s perfect,” you declare. “We can roll it out now.”

You hadn’t exactly planned for your Friday night to be overtaken by this bumbling, flour-dusted dad, but somehow, you don’t mind. You take turns rolling and flattening the dough before he slides the tray into the oven. Already, you’ve started cleaning—scooping up flour piles, bagging ingredients, restoring order to the battlefield.

“You don’t need to do that,” Getou protests, frowning. “You’ve done enough. Sit down.”

You comply halfway, still gathering loose flour into the bin. He pours you a glass of water and begins wiping down his own mess.

“Where’d you learn how to bake?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a baker,” you say, shrugging. “But working with kids, having treats around helps as a motivator. So I picked up a few simple recipes.”

He nods, impressed, running a damp rag over his flour-streaked shirt. His glasses have slipped down his nose, the lenses smudged from dirty hands.

“Suguru,” you say, deadpan, “go clean yourself up. I’ll finish here.”

He grimaces at the kitchen’s state, then exhales in surrender. “You’re a saint. I’d hate for the girls to see this mess when I’m always nagging them to keep their rooms spotless.” He presses a thumb to his brow. “Turns out, I’m quite the hypocrite.”

You methodically put the kitchen back in order, enjoying the gradual return to cleanliness. By the time Getou re-emerges, the only mess left is on his apron. His hair is pulled up in a loose bun, and he shoots you a wink.

“Right on time.”

As if on cue, the oven alarm dings. He pulls the tray out, setting it on the stove. The scent of buttery, warm sweetness fills the air. You inhale deeply, taking a seat at the barstool beside the counter.

Getou leans down, elbows propped against the surface, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Well, wouldn’t you say we make a per—”

“DADDY!!”

The door slams open, and Nanako barrels inside, launching herself at Getou’s waist.

“Daddy! Daddy! Guess what Satoru got us?!”

Laughing, he lifts her up, ruffling her hair as she clings to his neck. Gojo enters right behind, overloaded with shopping bags, white hair slightly tousled, Cartier shades barely hiding his mischievous blue eyes. Mimiko shuffles in, latched onto his pant leg.

Gojo smirks. “Took them on an all-you-can-grab shopping spree. Fun, right?” He inhales, pausing. “Mm, something smells good—wait. Suguru. Did you actually—” His gaze lands on you, and his smirk sharpens. “Well, well. Who’s this?”

You quickly stand, waving your hands. “Just a neighbor! Suguru needed eggs, and, well…” You gesture vaguely toward the cookies. “I took pity on his baking skills.”

Gojo snorts. “Little did you know, you probably just saved this entire building from being burned down.”

Getou shoves his shoulder. Gojo nearly drops a bag, grinning.

“Hey girls,” he calls, heading down the hall. “Make sure to thank your dad for wearing the special apron I got him! And don’t forget—no kiss, no cookie!”

Nanako gasps, eyes wide. “Oh! Before you go—you have to give Daddy a kiss too! Or no cookie!”

Mimiko nods solemnly. “No kiss, no cookie. Right, Daddy? Or were you lying?”

You laugh at Getou’s panicked expression.

With exaggerated effort, you stretch onto your toes, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the edge of his jaw.

“There. No lies.”

You grab your cookie and eggs, heading for the door. “Thanks for the treat! Have a good night, guys!”

As you step out, you catch one last glimpse—Getou, frozen, cheeks tinged pink, his jaw still faintly glossed from your kiss.

Munching on your cookie, you grin.

Bless those kids.

𓂃۶ৎ

The next morning, you wake up lazily, blissfully, embarrassingly late—somewhere around noon. A rare luxury. You stretch across your bed, basking in the slow start to the day before slipping into an easy, indulgent routine.

A long, hot shower.

A hearty, homemade brunch.

A carefully curated R&B playlist humming in the background.

You take your time with the little things—styling your hair, finally trying that shower steamer you’ve been saving, relishing a morning that’s just for you. It’s been a while since you’ve allowed yourself to unwind like this, especially since you’ve just started refraining from peeking in on the DILF next door.

Not that you’ve been thinking about him. Not at all.

The sun is bright today, the perfect excuse to go for a walk. Maybe you’ll drop by Yu’s place—figure out how your night will unfold from there. Something lively, hopefully.

Locking up, you head downstairs, offering nods to other tenants as you step outside. And then—

Giggling. Light, carefree, unmistakable.

You don’t even need to look to know who it is.

“Daddy, look! It’s the Cookie Lady!”

“Hi, Cookie Lady!”

You exhale, shaking your head. You vividly remember introducing yourself properly, but kids? Selective memory at its finest.

Sure enough, Nanako and Mimiko are on their pink tricycles, zooming across the pavement while Getou lingers nearby, guiding them like a watchful shadow.

You wave at the girls first, playing along. “Wow, you two are going so fast! Don’t run me over!”

They giggle, swerving dramatically around you as you pretend to stumble back. Behind them, Getou smiles—warm, effortless, like the sun overhead.

You move closer, eyes flicking over him instinctively.

Baggy denim. A beige sweater. A classic dad fit.

Only… the sweater’s losing a battle against the curve of his bicep, the fabric stretching just a little too tightly over muscle. And his arms—the shape of them, the way the fleece clings to his forearms—

You look away fast. Which is no reprieve because now you’re staring into his eyes—deep purple, sunlit flecks of magenta making them shimmer.

His lashes are obnoxiously thick. Prettier than yours, even with volumizing mascara.

Unfair.

“Any disasters for me to clean up today?” you tease, breaking eye contact.

His chuckle is low, warm, easy. His chest shakes lightly. “Not today. Yet. But can I keep you on call just in case?”

You shrug. “I’m around. And honestly? I could never say no to someone with such adorable little girls.”

Getou hums, eyes drifting toward his daughters, who are now engaged in a very serious race down the sidewalk—little hands swatting at each other as they try to throw the other off course.

“Adorable, yes. But don’t let them fool you.” He sighs. “They’re little devils in disguise.”

You laugh. “That’s just the age. They’re curious about everything. Had a kid at work raid my purse once during a session. Looked away for two seconds, and when I turned back, he was wearing a menstrual pad like a hat.”

Getou snorts. Catches himself. Coughs into his fist. “You’re lying.”

“I wish.”

His laughter fades into something softer. Thoughtful. His brows knit slightly.

“…I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but hearing stuff like that—feminine products, girl things—I get anxious. It’s hard, raising two girls alone.”

Your chest tightens at the look on his face. The quiet weight of it.

Without thinking, you reach for his hand.

“I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but I’ve worked with kids for years,” you say gently. “And I can spot a good parent a mile away. Even with our limited interactions, Suguru, you are one of the most doting fathers I’ve ever met.”

His fingers tighten around yours. Then his other hand clasps over the top, warm, grounding.

“I appreciate that,” he murmurs. “You’re pretty wise for your age.”

You scoff. “Of course. Women mature years faster than men. Be careful—your girls might surpass you before you know it.”

And then—

A piercing shriek cuts through the air.

“D-Daddy! T-The cat scratched me!”

Both of you snap to attention.

Mimiko is curled up on her bike, terrified, while Nanako sits on the pavement beside her toppled tricycle, clutching her arm. Across from her, a fat black cat hisses, back arched.

Getou is already moving. He scoops Nanako into his arms just as the cat lets out a low, guttural growl. You think you see it pounce, but it’s all a blur. You barely register Getou kicking at the ground near it before you swoop in, lifting Mimiko onto your hip and retreating toward the apartment.

By the time you make it inside, the girls’ tear-streaked faces are devastating.

Getou fumbles with his keys, cursing under his breath.

Nanako—the little mimic—parrots him perfectly.

“Shit, fuck!”

“Shi—crap!” he corrects quickly. “No, no, sweetie, Daddy said a bad word. I was just scared you were hurt.”

Inside, Getou heads straight to the bathroom, setting Nanako on the closed toilet lid while you settle Mimiko on the sink. He wets a rag, voice gentle, soothing.

“Can I see your arm, Nana?”

She nods, sniffling. Brave. Mimiko leans forward, eyes wide as she watches her sister.

Getou is careful. Tender hands. Steady voice. He dabs at the scratch, applies ointment, murmurs reassurances as Nanako flinches. A patient, loving father.

And God help you, but it makes him even more attractive.

Once the bandage is in place, Nanako puffs up proudly.

“See, Mimi? I’m too strong for that old cat!”

Getou lifts her up, but as he does, you notice—his sweater has a tear along the back. The fabric darker, wet.

Blood.

���Hey girls,” you say gently. “Why don’t you go play? I’ll help your dad clean up. You were both so brave.”

They perk up instantly, rushing out with another fit of giggles.

Getou starts to wave you off. “I’m fine, don’t—”

“Suguru,” you deadpan. “The cat sliced through your shirt. Let me clean it up.”

He sighs but relents, settling on the toilet lid.

“How do you keep ending up rescuing me?” he muses. “I thought we had a back-and-forth thing going on.”

You snort, swatting his arm before carefully lifting his shirt, rolling it up so he can hold it in place and inspect the scratch. It’s deep—deeper than you’d expect—so the cat must have been a stray with nails sharp enough to cut like that. Skimming your fingers over the wound, you feel Getou’s breath hitch. You murmur a quiet apology before rewetting the rag and dabbing at the injury to clean it properly.

You’ve seen Getou’s bare back more times than you’d like to admit, but up close like this? It’s a whole other story. And—selfishly—you envy the cat for being the one to leave marks on him instead of you.

His broad shoulders shift under your touch, deltoids flexing with every small wince. His spine curves smoothly, leading to two faint indentations at the small of his back. Back dimples.

You suppress the ridiculous urge to trace them with your fingers.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand—reapplying the ointment before resting your hands lightly on his shoulders.

“I think I’m done,” you say, voice steady despite the very unsteady state of your thoughts. “Your scratches are deeper, though, so I wouldn’t bandage them up just yet. They need to breathe so the skin can heal properly.”

Getou hums, the vibrations buzzing through your palms.

“In that case, I’ll just take this off.” He grips the fabric at the back of his collar, crossing his arms as he pulls the shirt over his head in one smooth motion—something you’ve seen him do a million times before.

But somehow, this time feels entirely different.

And suddenly, you’re questioning whether today is the best day of your life—or the worst, because temptation is sitting right in front of you, and you can’t do a damn thing about it.

You poke lightly at the scratch, half out of curiosity, half as an excuse to let your eyes wander. A few scars, pink and raised, wrap around from his ribs. A couple of small, cute moles sit just below his nape.

“—tter.”

You blink. Wait. He was talking?

“Hm?”

Getou chuckles, low and amused. “I said, poking at it like that isn’t gonna help.” His lips curve into something teasing. “Be a sweetheart and kiss it better for me?”

His deep voice lilts, gentle but dripping in lazy, playful seduction.

Heat floods through you instantly.

But you refuse to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

Steeling yourself, you swallow down the butterflies flapping violently in your chest and school your expression into something cool, composed.

“I don’t think that’s how healing works,” you muse, smoothing your fingers over his warm shoulder. “But if you insist…”

You lean in, lips parting as you move closer—so close that you can feel his warmth against your mouth. But just as you’re about to press the kiss to his skin, you pause. Then, with deliberate slowness, you pull back, kiss your own palm, and press it firmly against his wound instead.

“I think that’s the best I can do, Suguru,” you say, feigning innocence. “Wouldn’t want to get antibiotics all over my lips.”

He blinks, momentarily caught off guard, before huffing out a laugh.

“Clever.”

Then, before you can react, he shifts—adjusting his position so that you’re kneeling between his legs. His arms rest lazily over his thighs, dark eyes watching you with soft amusement.

He pouts.

Pouts.

Which, despite being a fully grown man, still looks unreasonably cute on his annoyingly handsome face.

“Guess we’ll have to make do,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly. “Right here is also acceptable.”

He puckers his lips dramatically, raising a brow, but he doesn’t move closer. Just waits. Daring you.

So that’s how he wants to play it.

Your hands slide up to rest lightly on his knees, and you lean in—slow, deliberate. Your noses brush, and you let your breath fan against his lips, lingering.

“I’ll make it all better,” you murmur.

Then, finally, you press your lips to his—soft, warm, deliberate.

His lips are plush, moving against yours in a slow, languid rhythm. One of his hands lifts to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your jaw, keeping you there just a moment longer before you pull back.

But he doesn’t let go.

“It still hurts,” he says, voice lower, gaze heavier. “Try again.”

You let out a breathless laugh but comply, leaning in again. This time, he meets you halfway, mouth parting slightly as his tongue just barely brushes against your bottom lip. You sigh into him, fingers instinctively threading into his hair—his stupidly soft, midnight-black hair. The loose bun falls apart easily, strands tumbling over his shoulders.

When you finally pull back, his eyes are dark, half-lidded, hungry.

“Again,” he breathes.

But just as he leans in to kiss you—

“Why are you kissing Daddy?”

The two of you jolt apart like you’d been electrocuted.

Your head whips to the side, heart lurching.

Nanako stands in the doorway, arms crossed, staring point-blank at the two of you with the unimpressed authority of a child who has just caught an adult doing something stupid.

Mimiko peeks out from behind her, brows furrowed in confusion.

Getou fumbles for an excuse, visibly panicking, and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Kiss the Cook?”

Nanako squints. “But Daddy, there’s no cookies.”

𓂃۶ৎ [Tentative taglist: @mentallyillcore]

[bonus-links]

Director's commentary maybe?

HELLO!! lots to say abt this one

i have this diagram with the entire plot of bonus links on it where every plot point is a digital sticky note. anyway the note for this update was just called "loft and wolf talk about being assholes". The original intent was for them to talk a bit more about how they both left their families behind (re: the party update) but the scene ended up taking itself in a different direction, as they so often do. I've saved that dialogue for later tho >:-)

this panel? bane of my existence to color. you would think after 3 years of making these comics I would have learned how to color night time lighting. ANYWAY. i think it's really funny that Wake is the only one managing to get a good night of sleep 😂 good for him

this whole scene was originally also going to be at night but a) i am so tired of night lighting and b) i thought this kind of morning twilight was appropriate for this conversation :-) it turned out a little brighter than intended maybe but I did my best lol

one more thing to keep loft up at night forever

this is directly referenced from this TP screenshot, I think from the mortal draw training. one of the overall themes for this update is, loosely, the ghosts haunting everyone, so. hello hero's shade :D and hi mask

speaking of ghosts haunting everyone, Loft's BG is the pattern I use on Fi's text boxes, and Wolf's is the shattered mirror of twilight

i also set up these shots to kind of parallel each other; wolf and loft coming to an understanding, while slate and champion can't. another parallel being how Fi is silent the way Champion is silent.

I'm not gonna comment too much on Champion and Slate's conversation (or lack thereof lol), but I will say that Champion's role in the story is like. one part literal and one part metaphorical. Champion is not fully the person he was when he was alive. It's the ghost of him in all senses of the word. something to keep in mind

in regards to the fairies, that's actually a total happy accident 😭 i was just sort of coloring them at random, but it really does look like it could be Ciela, Leaf, and Neri 🥺 i'll leave that interpretation up to you guys

omg also if you saw the WIP for the last page on Patreon, I had originally drawn Slate without his tunic. Literally the only reason i changed it was bc I felt like the page needed the pop of green from his tunic lol the dark color of his turtleneck kept getting lost in the bg. so yes I did have to go back and redraw/recolor every panel 😭

that's all for now, thanks for reading!

[enhaven]

[1:10am] — lhs (m.)

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut, angst, fuck buddies, college!au

wc & rating: 3.5k | 18+ (minors gtfo pls)

summary: the last thing you expect in welcoming the New Year is for Heeseung to remind you that he's still the best fuck you've ever had.

warnings: swearing, riding, making out, car sex, fingering, petnames, praise kink, creampie, semi-clothed sex?, unprotected sex (don't do this i beg), public sex? i mean, also he kinda has fuckboy antics so :’)

a/n: i had a feeling that he'd win the poll lol idk what to name this and it's supposed to be a timestamp but enjoy the ✨ toxicity ✨

— masterlist & wips — navigation

"Happy new yearrrrrr 🎉🎉"

god damn, he looks so good.

damn good indeed that you accidentally liked his story, only realizing that you did when you got a reply from him.

shit, stupid finger

you’re blaming the drinks that you’ve consumed and the weariness from New Year’s Eve preparations for being this careless. you're usually careful especially when it comes to Heeseung's whereabouts each time he leaves you unread.

the nonstop greeting and responding to people as much as you could throughout the day despite being busy must’ve added to it too. curse your habit of occasionally liking ig stories when you’re on that app so naturally, instances like this couldn’t really be helped.

and it wouldn’t have mattered if you had just blocked Heeseung but you didn’t because you couldn’t.

then now he strikes how he normally does when he could've done so weeks ago.

hee: hey

happy new year hee

hee: can i come over?

it’s new year’s?? 

hee: and? it’s been a while

it has and you’ve been planning to keep it that way without making it obvious. but Heeseung must’ve been catching on though cause why else would he hit you up right now, out of all times too.

aren’t you celebrating with your family?

hee: already did in advance

your brother?

hee: on a date with his girl

his parents must’ve been on a holiday like most people around you which sometimes you envy them for. your family’s never been the travel type so you never had the chance to go on holidays, just at home with any available relatives to celebrate.

then that means that Heeseung’s alone and you’re in danger because you don’t want him to be while entering the new year.

your usual convo with him continues but with you trying to divert topics as much as you could this time. however, Heeseung’s always been too good at this, circling it to his intention of wanting to see you.

it's when he asked if he could sneak into your room like many times before that you relent. you can't let him since there’d be many people in your place that could spot him. you don’t want anyone, let alone your family asking who Heeseung is and what he is to you, something that you’re also coming to terms with when you started distancing yourself from him.

but Heeseung does love making it difficult by doing this.

.

“wouldn’t have minded you know..” he says against your neck, busy nipping your skin. you find him leaning on the side of his car earlier when you decided to meet him, surprising you at how needy he's being by caging and kissing you right away.

his touches are a bit too desperate like he misses you though you seriously doubt it when he has a lot of girls he could call anytime.

then why is he here?

“m-minded what..” a gasp escapes you when his hand reaches up to cup one of your tits through your top, squeezing while his other hand does the same with your hip, holding like he doesn’t wanna let you go. 

“meeting them..” he says after releasing your neck from his mouth, revealing the devilish smile on his handsome face. and why would he wanna meet your family knowing the questions they'll throw at him?

Heeseung sees your face forming into a scowl so he grabs your chin to kiss you again until you pull back fully, shaking out of his grasp with a raised brow at him.

he responds with a small chuckle, causing you to roll your eyes and open the door of the passenger seat beside him. he finds your impatience cute and it leaves Heeseung a bit of relief that you're finally entertaining him.

“whatever, let’s talk somewhere”

.

silence rules over inside the car as Heeseung starts the engine. this whole scenario's not new for the both of you anyway since you're always in the car with him when you're not at each other's places.

with how he's tightly gripping the steering wheel, you had a feeling that he might drive you around again or take you back to his place to talk longer. you would've if you're being honest but you made an excuse earlier to grab something at a place nearby so you couldn’t possibly take too long.

you've always preferred it this way and it's easier for Heeseung anyway so when he gets a booty call, he can just drop you off anywhere you want and he can go on his merry way. 

something's different about him tonight though. sure he’s always been the quiet one while you're the exact opposite but he seems off tonight so you break the silence between you to find out.

“why did you really wanna meet me hee? during this occasion too” you huff, still annoyed at him for pulling this on you last minute.

not that you’d say no anyway, you’re unfortunately that weak for him even knowing that seeing him again is a bad idea.

especially with how fucking hot he looks right now.

“just wanted to see you” he quips nonchalantly without adding more and you scoff.

“let me guess the New Year’s Eve party didn’t hit” 

pretty sure it’s the party that one of his best friends is hosting. no one would miss anything Park Jongseong hosts since it’s usually held at high-end places depending on the theme.

and this particular one was what everyone was talking about before the break started.

“not that..but”

Heeseung's having a hard time answering you. the party was fine though it did take a lot of his energy away like it usually does after a while. he doesn't even go to them without a reason, only showing up for his friends each time they ask him. before leaving, he took a shot as a courtesy since he didn't have to stay longer than he had to when he was familiar with everyone's faces there already.

he'd rather meet you, whom he hasn’t seen in almost a month now. 

“stop the car” you blurt out all of a sudden which confuses Heeseung but he obliges regardless. he thought that you didn’t want anyone from home to see you together and now you’re stopping him when you’re barely out of the skirts of your neighbourhood.

you see him turn to you from your peripheral view after hitting the brakes but you refuse to look at him because it'll make you weak. you know that he'll look stupidly adorable with his bewildered face and that you'd give in to whatever he says.

as much as you want to be as far away as possible, you don’t really wanna go that far if you’d have to leave since it’s his car. you’re at a safe distance from your house anyways so that's the least of your worries. 

it’s how Heeseung’s been looking at you this time that does.

you finally look at him, seeing the dilemma in his doe eyes and he's not saying anything, increasing your worry-

“can i just..” he averts his eyes from you, looking a bit frustrated at himself but you’ve known how hard it is for him to express himself with words so you give him time.

he faces you after a few seconds before leaning closer. his eyes never leaving yours as he grabs your face, causing your heart to race at this proximity. confusion bubbles up inside you as you try to decipher his expression to bring back your focus.

but the lingering words on your tongue are abrupted when Heeseung crashes his soft lips against yours.

you respond out of habit, missing the feeling of it cause you haven't kissed nor fucked anyone since him. you feel him at ease when you do, holding your face with eagerness then carefully asking for an entrance by biting your lower lip so you do.

“heeseung..” you whimper when his lips move to your jaw, feeling a grin slowly forming on his lips against your skin. he continues kissing down your neck before coming up, his thumbs caressing your cheek which makes you more desperate of his touches.

“ride me?” he whispers against your lips before devouring you again, eliciting another whimper from you as you nod. 

your fingers tread through Heeseung's already messy hair while his hands are all over you in an instant, touching whatever part of your body he can reach. his touches become even more desperate but slightly different from earlier and you’re not sure why.

still, you should’ve denied him like how you’ve been doing a few weeks before the break but how could you pass this up when he's finally the one seeking you out this time.

he releases you suddenly which surprises you, opening his side of the door before transferring to the backseat. you followed him in a hurry, embarrassment slowly filling you at how quickly you were succumbing to him.

then as soon as you're inside, Heeseung kisses you again before positioning you on his lap. you pull back to take a breather but mostly because you wanna look at his face.

the face that you undeniably missed despite trying your best to avoid him like a plague.

up this close, you can see it in his eyes clearly, like you’re the only one he wants when that could be far from reality. at the same time, Heeseung sees the uncertainty in your eyes so he begins to squeeze your sides to distract you. 

it worked like it always does, nudging you to roll your hips against his, allowing you to feel the hardness right by your core. he must've felt how wet you are already cause the small smirk from earlier is now back on his face.

Heeseung leans in and starts kissing your chest, both hands traveling up to pull down the straps of your top along with your bra. he doesn’t waste any more time and squeezes your tits briefly before his hands bunch up your skirt, granting him access to your wet core.

one hand of his grabs your face to kiss you again while the other reaches you from behind, pulling your panties to the side. he's not letting you breathe, his slender fingers tracing your sopping folds before plunging them in, earning a loud moan from you.

“fuck..” you couldn’t help but close your eyes when he increase the speed of his fingers, grinding more against his hands and in turn his crotch.

“so wet and tight..” groaning against your neck, he pulls his fingers out of you so he can unbuckle his pants but your hands stop him when he's ridding his boxers, wanting to do it instead.

you take Heeseung's leaking cock in your hands, a quiet whine leaving his lips when you squeeze it a bit. he knows of your impatience though so now he's grinning as he watches you guide his dick towards your pussy before sinking on it.

his hands fly to your waist, a loud groan coming out from him after he eases you fully on his cock, the tightness of your pussy knocking his breath out. 

it's your turn to make him suffer so you start bouncing right away, putting Heeseung in delirium at how fucking amazing you feel around him.

"so good, so good for me" he’s gripping your hips tightly, which in turn would possibly leave marks on your skin but you don’t care.

you love the effect you have on him though he tries to hide it by biting his lips. a smile graces your lips watching him struggle, his moans growing louder when you increase your pace.

he's louder than you've ever heard him so continue despite your thighs burning, wanting to hear more of his needy whines.

you don't know how Heeseung manages to recover, now flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. he feels the satisfaction when he sees your face contorting in pleasure, looking so beautiful on his lap with the light from the street lights illuminating your body.

he misses having you like this, falling apart because of how good he makes you feel. he has no idea how you both just stopped hooking up in the first place cause he knows he’s the only one you’re fucking unless..

your whimper brings him back so he dismisses that thought, opting to support your stance when he notices your pace slowing down from riding the hell out of him. he's close but he wants you to cum first so his thumb reaches your swollen bud, rubbing it furiously until you started shaking above him.

you hate how Heeseung can make you cum this fast but what can you do when he a natural at it like how he is with everything else. you end up collapsing on top of him when the band on your lower abdomen erupts, cursing and moaning his name nonstop.

"glad to welcome the new year with you baby," he says endearingly, a little breathless while caressing your bare back as he helps you ride through your high. 

“you couldn’t wait until the semester starts again?” you scoff, still panting but you had to try to ignore the little flutter in your chest at his words. his tone confuses your pleasure-muddled brain cause for all you know, he could just be with you right now cause the others are not available.

“had to make sure..” he leaves a soft kiss on your temple, further increasing your nerves around him. 

perhaps it was Jeongin mentioning you in their conversation earlier at the party that pushed Heeseung to see you right away. the prospect of you meeting his close friend who’s just like him feeding his worry somehow.

that you may have found another “friend” during the break, hence, your avoidance of him.

it might be his fault that a lot of things have kept him so busy, not realizing that it’s been so long since the last time you met. it escaped his mind that you could just find anyone to replace him since you both never talked about specific boundaries in your current setup anyway.

“w-what?” 

"i'm still the best right?” he asks before slowly rolling his hips, making you whine at the sensitivity.

you’re unsure what Heeseung's talking about but this may be what’s been bothering him. his question didn’t sink into your mind, still confused about why he’s asking that. 

plus all you can focus on at the moment is how delicious he feels inside you. he didn’t even give you enough time to recover from your orgasm, hoisting you back up to ride him again.

"huh? uh yeah-oh fuck hee" you mewl when Heeseung starts bucking his hips up to you, happy to hear that he's still your best fuck. it's a funny contrast really, how soft his voice is when asking you compared to how hard he's fucking you right now.

your eyes close once again when he’s able to find your sweet spot immediately, his cock hitting it with precision. then your breath hitches when he grabs the side of your neck as he chases his high, eyes never leaving your face while you keep whining, fisting his black shirt.

all your thoughts went out the window when you finally opened your eyes and looked down at Heeseung.

he looks really good, with half-lidded eyes and even messier hair staring at you while you try to match your pace with him.

the timing must be playing you then when you notice the fireworks starting behind Heeseung, reminding you of how similar it is to what you feel inside right now and him finally exploding inside of you.

“gorgeous..shit” he chuckles before leaving a few wet kisses along your neck and then kissing you like he can’t get enough of you after stuffing you full of his cum. 

he's back to being calm but he’s staring at you intently again and it momentarily brings back his question earlier about him being your best fuck.

of course he is, he's the only one who knows your body like this that's why you're wondering why that would bother him if ever. besides, he had many girls he can fuck who could be better than you by his standards.

and what could probably have sparked this? you're too busy with the holiday preparations to meet anyone new let alone fuck someone.

“what’s with earlier hee?” 

your question's making him anxious so he shifts his eyes towards the front before looking back at you. he was hoping that you’d forget about it after he fucks you that good but the determined look in your eyes is saying otherwise.

“nothing i just missed you” he planted a quick kiss on your lips before pulling you off him. 

you obviously didn't buy his excuse even though he meant it. his refusal to tell you the truth made you wonder if it was because he thinks you’re sleeping with someone.

as pathetic as it sounds, you feel a bit flattered cause that would mean that he might not be fucking anyone during the break but then he still could be, and that he’s just saying that knowing it’s something you wanna hear from him.

he's just keeping in check and now he has his answer.

you both clean each other up in silence while Heeseung continues to avoid your eyes as he helps you. then after, he pulls down the windows to let the cool breeze in before getting out of the car to go around and open your door.

your legs wobble as soon as you stand up but you move quickly, wanting to stay away from him as much as possible because you didn't mean to have him like this.

you wanted to leave anything of him behind that’s why you essentially ghosted him during this whole break as part of your resolution for the year.

but you already broke it literally on the first day. if you weren’t being a dumbass earlier then none of this would’ve happened.

“i’ll drop you off” he says softly as he closes the door but you don't wanna answer him.

"no, i can walk home"

"can you?" he says smugly, holding your waist at once when you almost tripped. you push him back, still pissed at how he's been acting and it’s when you’re about to answer him when you hear a familiar shriek behind you.

"finally found you! oh and who is he?”

your eyes widen at the sweet voice asking who belongs to your younger cousin. you looked at Heeseung who looks just as surprised as you, the both of you getting anxious at her presence, wondering what she could possibly have seen.

his hand's still on you, ready to catch you in case you trip again. you feel Heeseung give you a small squeeze when you look away, shrugging him completely off of you.

turning to your cousin, you try to maintain your composure despite your nerves. she's of age but still young and she's quite similar to you, persistent in getting her answers so you're not sure how to escape her question.

"no one, just someone from school"

your answer shouldn't have affected Heeseung but it did which leaves him in disbelief. you both know he wasn't just no one to you but you couldn't possibly tell your cousin what's the real deal between you.

"i happen to see her on the way so i stopped by to greet her happy new year" he replied curtly and you winced at his tone which your cousin didn't miss. you fight the urge to scoff at how dismissive Heeseung sounded. he has no right to be upset when he's the one who's been vague this whole time.

"okay then let's go! the games are starting already that's why i've been looking for you!" your cousin grabs your arm hurriedly, probably sensing the tension between you and Heeseung.

"goodbye hee" you tell him as you start walking away, not bothering to look at him one last time, hopefully.

"see you around.." he responds but you don't catch what he said after, relief and gratefulness towards your cousin taking over you at the moment.

meanwhile, as Heeseung watches you leave, he thinks about how he fucked up with you again this time but you still called him by that nickname so his chances are still there.

and when you get a series of "i'm sorry" texts from him before you can even reach your house, you wonder if it was a mistake to address him that way earlier.

cause this whole thing continues to give you hope and you're not sure how long until you'd cave in to his alluring charms again.

e/n: it's still january so happy new year 🤧, may y'all have an amazing 2024 ahead. also, that gdamn video of his showed up again on my tl when i was editing this so i had to add it here bye 😩

[prodagustd]

surprise | myg

this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff

—warnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DON’T trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw

—words: 7.6k

a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple 😭 I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badly😭 so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!

A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldn’t. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.

Back then everything was so new to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didn’t know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter. 

It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side. 

With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldn’t get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact. 

You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaos—the people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasn’t something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. You’d have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.

Yoongi liked the city too—he enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didn’t mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited you—someone who hated bugs and couldn’t stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.

You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldn’t say no.

It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him. 

It was easy not to complain when Yoongi’s plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked. 

Did you mention that it was still winter?

Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain. 

You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongi’s warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed. 

“Yoongi, I’m cold.” You whined.

“C’mon, it’s going to wear off” He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. 

You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldn’t see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to you—used to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himself—but it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasn’t the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too. 

“What if I catch a cold?” You mumbled over his shirt. 

Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didn’t even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? “It’s not that cold.” He said, not willing to give up. 

You raised your head to look at him, frowning “Says the person who’s still fully clothed.”

He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Happy now?”

“No, it’s freezing out there!” You kept complaining “Why do we have to do it without clothes? I don’t mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.” 

You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent. 

Yoongi scoffed, amused.  “And I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.” He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. “C’mon, baby. I won’t see you for weeks, let me make love to you.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “You had been using that excuse the whole trip.” And you’ve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you. 

“But isn’t it true?” He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didn’t want to say no. 

You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. “We are gonna make such a mess.” You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didn’t exactly know how he was going to “take care of it”, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.

As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongi’s job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didn’t need him, you wanted him. He wasn’t an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?

Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this. 

Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didn’t kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to “pull out” that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldn’t forget how pale Yoongi’s face turned when you told him about it. 

And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy test—only this time, it was positive. 

The one on your hand wasn’t the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldn’t be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasn’t something normal or a simple mistake. 

You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too.  She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didn’t even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didn’t use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didn’t want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit. 

Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.) 

The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.

Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasn’t easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didn’t look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you weren’t far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldn’t call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you weren’t in the middle of a mental breakdown. 

Your act wasn’t convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.

You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help. 

“You are what?” Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.

There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. “Jungkook…” You said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m serious.” He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. “I crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?”

“I’m serious, too!” You whined “I’m not kidding, I don’t know what to do.”

He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body.  “Are you sure?” He murmured. “Are you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-”

“Jungkook, I’m sure.” You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. “My period is late and I took three tests, all positive.” 

He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didn’t faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.

“What are we gonna do?” He said under his breath.

“What am I gonna do?” You corrected him, sitting next to him “You are supposed to help me.” 

Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. “How?”

“God, I shouldn’t have called you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, I mean, what do you want to do?” He said. “Did you tell Yoongi?”

“Of course not.” You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back. 

“Do you want to… tell him?” He continued to ask. 

You sniffed “I mean, I don’t know how.” You pouted “I’m seeing him in two weeks, I don’t know if I can wait that long.” 

He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkook’s life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. “How did this happen?” He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him. 

“Is it necessary for me to explain it?” You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Did you not use condoms?” He scolded you like he was your mother. 

You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. “We don’t… use condoms.” You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. “I’m on the pill, I don’t know what happened.”

On second thought, that wasn’t something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. “Can you not call your doctor?” He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you weren’t sure if your doctor could do anything about it.

“Even if I call her and tell her what's going on, it’s not like I can get a refund.” You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he began, dragging the word out. “In some way, you could get a refund.” You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. “I mean only if you want to!”

You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like the thought  didn’t cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldn’t see yourself getting rid of the baby—or whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didn’t want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?

You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. “That’s the problem.” You murmured “I don’t know if I want a refund.” 

Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words. 

"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke. 

A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. “I don’t know…” Was the only thing you could say. 

“But do you know if Yoongi wanted… kids?” He said as if that was a forbidden word. “I mean, do you want them?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his mother’s behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.

“We’ve talked about it…” You admitted. “But we’ve never planned it, let alone now that he’s on tour.” 

Jungkook hummed, still thinking. 

“But you both agreed to have kids at some point.” He affirmed, and you just nodded. 

It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation. 

“Fuck, don’t cry.” Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. “C’mon, it’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. “You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. Let’s go step by step, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. “Okay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.” He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic. 

“He’s going to ask why.” You said, your voice hoarse “What am I going to tell him?”

He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution. 

“Let’s not tell him.” He proposed.

“What do you mean let’s not tell him?”

“I’m leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.” He kept going “Say that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.” 

Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldn’t get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier. 

You couldn’t believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didn’t know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.

“Jungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. It’s impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.”

“It’s not impossible, I’m gonna help you.” He insisted “If he texts you, you say you’re at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say you’re busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.”

“It is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?” You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly. 

“You say it stopped working or something! C’mon, I thought you were smarter than me.”

You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldn’t come up with another idea if his life depended on it. 

“Jungkook, if he suspects anything…” You raised a finger, digging it on his chest. 

“He won’t suspect a thing,” He affirmed confidently. “When have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, you’ll have already decided to name your baby after me.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasn’t the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it.  

Jungkook's plan wasn’t the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didn’t have time to question why you couldn’t wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t wait two more weeks to see you either. 

Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadn’t seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place. 

“You can’t keep spending time away from me.” He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll keep you in my pocket if it’s necessary.” 

You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, you’ll let it slide. 

You didn’t know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasn’t helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.

Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongi’s hand. He knew that you haven’t said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right. 

A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldn’t keep declining glasses of wine forever,  you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you weren’t in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.

You weren’t trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked once again.

“Yeah, I just need one night.” You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts. 

“But are you okay?” He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldn’t ignore it. 

“I don’t know… You look like you want me to stay.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldn’t say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close. 

“What makes you think that?” You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.

“Mmm… The Disney movie kinda gives you away.”

You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. “I don’t want to ruin your fun… You should go, I mean it.”

He scoffed “You won’t, there’s going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.”

“They’ll miss you…”

“You’ll miss me, too.”

“But do you want to stay, though?” You asked him a whisper. 

“Of course I want to… But you have to let me choose the movie.” He warned, automatically making you giggle.

Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldn’t see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry. 

When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didn’t even know you could feel. It was certain that you’ve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it. 

You’d stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings you’d tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.

A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldn’t say. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.

“Nothing,” You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. “I’m just… emotional, I don’t know.” Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.

Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice. 

He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off. 

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. “I know something’s up, I’m not a dummy.” 

You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?

“What do you know?” Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong. 

He frowned at your tone. “Well, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost don’t eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like you’re going to leave anytime soon, you look… sad? I don’t know, baby, you tell me.”

You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didn’t realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words. 

“Is it because of Lily?” He said, making you dart your eyes at him. “You don’t like her being here? 

You couldn’t blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongi’s label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didn’t faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous. 

“Yoongi, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.” He defended himself. “The last time I saw you we were fine, but now you’re here crying and I don’t have a clue what I did wrong.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess you’d just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.

You sighed, defeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You said “And it’s not about Lily, I couldn’t care less about that… It’s just that- … Yoongi…”

“Baby…” He said in the same tone as you, “What is it?”

As Yoongi’s gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. “Yoongi, my period is late.” You confessed, observing Yoongi’s eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. “It’s been a week now, I don’t know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a test”

 “A test?” he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“A pregnancy test, Yoongi.” You said, trying not to roll your eyes. “I took three damn tests.”

“And what-... what happened?” He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.

“I mean, guess what happened,” you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.

Yoongi didn’t know anything about pregnancy tests—he’d never needed to. He’d always been careful, using protection with every girl he’d been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasn’t familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.

Yoongi’s hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?

You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. “No, no, no,” He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. “Hey, there’s no reason to cry,” He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. “C’mon, look at me.” His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter now, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t,” you admitted, your words barely a whisper.

“Baby, you don’t have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.” He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

“I know, but… we haven’t planned for this,” you murmured, glancing down. “It just… came out of nowhere.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whined, your voice muffled against him. “I didn’t expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. I’m stressed, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do… and I miss my mom.” The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the soft laugh he let slip.

“You miss your mom?” he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.

“Yes!” you cried, voice cracking. “I feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.”

He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. “Baby…” he began, his tone soothing.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.

“You’re right, we didn’t plan this. But we’ve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, I’ll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.

As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.

“But… what do you think?” you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I mean… we’re not sixteen, baby. We’re adults, we’re about to buy a house together, and we love each other.”

“Well, those are just facts,” you replied, searching his face. “What I mean is… do you want this, now?”

It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with you—as if that hadn’t been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the same time. 

“I've always wanted it, are you serious?” He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. “And I only want it with you, haven’t I made it clear enough?”

Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational you’d been. There wasn’t a world where Yoongi didn’t want this, and there certainly wasn’t a world where you didn’t want it either.

“I want it, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

“Then why are you crying, huh?” he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Because...” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “Maybe you didn’t think it was the right time... You’re on tour right now.”

He frowned, his expression softening with concern. “I won’t be on tour forever...”

“I know, but... we’re not married. What would your parents think?”

He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. “You’re not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?”

“How could I not?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What if they force us to marry? God, I don’t want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!”

He laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Oh my god, baby, no one’s forcing us to do anything!” He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. “If we ever get married, it won’t be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.” He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. “Besides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy they’ll be once they know. Married or not.”

“Yoongi, it can’t be that simple.” 

“But it is.”

You sighed, feeling like all the mess you’d made was for nothing—and thank God it was. You’d been so caught up in your own despair that you hadn’t realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried? 

“You’re right, it is.” You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him. 

Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. “You don’t have to worry, baby, not with me.”

“I know.” You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “But I am-… I’m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.”

“Of course it does, it is.” He said “I’m terrified, too, but we’re together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.”

You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. “I guess you're right,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just... needed to hear you say it.”

Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. “I love you, baby, don’t you know that?”

You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I love you, too, bubba.”

“C’mon, baby, stop crying.” He said, making you laugh. 

[ofmermaidstories]

SUMMARY: The call to be a Pro Hero has never been a question—not for Katsuki Bakugou, explosive and guarded, nor for Izuku Midoriya, protective and determined, and certainly not for Shouto Todoroki, who’s family legacy hangs over him like a shadow. Years after the War that upended Hero Society, these three men have helped rebuild a path to Pro Heroism for the next generation, tentatively heralding a new era of hope. But there’s danger lurking in this rebuilt world, danger that has the power to rekindle old fears and usher in new resentments, and as the trio branch out to find and end these threats, they each encounter a new challenge along the way—colliding with someone unexpected, and falling in love.

(A Pro Hero x Reader Trilogy; in which falling in love is a random chance all at once chaotic and exhilarating and incredible, for each of the Big Three)

The premise is simple: three heroes, three fics, and three different lives to live. Named for the Katy Perry song, The One That Got Away, the In Another Life trilogy was originally intended to be a series of five stand-alone fics that evolved, fairly quickly, into what we have today: three interconnected stories that let our Reader-inserts move throughout the My Hero Academia world, and eventually find where—and who with—they belong.

Started in 2020 when the manga was still on-going, the fics have diverged from the canon Horikoshi’s given us both in small and large ways. Despite where they separate (and where the fics have to stay faithful to their own canon, now), it’s always been my hope that they read like the love letters they are—to My Hero, to the boys, and to x reader fic at large.

i’m running to your side—flying my white flag

1. surrender (whenever you’re ready) [Explicit] — ao3

93k+

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: You first meet Ground Zero when he's thrown, unceremoniously, through the glass window of your florist shop.

(In which Bakugou cannot stand flowers but finds himself coming back, anyway)

i’ve been reading books of old—the legends and the myths

2. something (just like this) [Explicit] — ao3

203k+

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

COMPLETED ✔️

SUMMARY: It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is instead the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would've bullied him, in high school."

At least until those muscles came in.

(In which Midoriya is an absolute nerd for the release of his own hero-inspired comic book series—and the artist responsible for it)

all your flaws and scars are mine

3. still (falling for you) [Explicit] — ao3

TDB

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

WIP 🕙

SUMMARY: The first time you and Shouto cross paths, he nearly drowns you.

(In which Todoroki meets a jeweller by the sea, and learns the difference between the value of the lessons he's been given—and the precious things he chooses to keep)

🚧 UNDER CONSTRUCTION 🚧

i am actively adding to and editing this section, still. if you think something is missing, or you have something you’d like included, please let me know!!! i am going through all the posts and links i do have, manually, so i may still miss something and would love a gentle reminder. 🌷

🚧 🏗️ 🧱🔨🔧🪛 🚧

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] do u think bakugou ever gets so angry his mouth misses [Readers] when they’re making out?

Katsuki’s home for once, sleeping off the last few days in the darkness of his room, cocooned.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] what type of jewellery would Bakugou gift [Reader], if any at all?

The first gift Katsuki gives you after Christmas is a pocket knife.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] merms, what are bakugou and weeds up to this christmas? :)

Katsuki wakes up before his alarm, before the sun rises—the city spread out beyond his bedroom windows like a carpet of stars.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i miss weeds and katsuki so much 😭😭

It will be proper twilight, when they leave together; Weed's hand in the crook of his arm.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] how are weeds and katsuki?

It’s a Wednesday, a normal day, and they are figuring it out.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] petition for you to write [Reader sending] bakugou horny tweets

light it up like an ELECTRIC STRIKE ⚡️: please please PLEASE Kacchan has blocked me and muted the groupchat PLEASE, I need him to see this, please just send him this ONE THING, PLEASE!!!!!

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] would [it] be important to bakugou for [his parents and weeds] to meet?

Masaru will just scratch the side of his nose under his glasses and think about a younger Mitsuki, who literally would not take no for an answer from him—and a younger Katsuki, who had the same laser-focus when it came to the things he wanted in his life.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] i am asking for royal au + florist au for [weeds/bakugou]

In his armour still, his forest-green cape, Ser Bakugou is dressed for war—solid and imposing as he stands on your threshold.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] what does [Reader] post [to instagram]? + [SWYR] things weeds would post

The one consistent has been art, good, bad and middling.

[ASK/DRABBLE 📖] [IAL] it’s so cute that SWYR’s reader is a fan of SJLT’s comic

Kacchan has never asked for anything from Izuku—beyond that he doesn’t look down on him (beyond that Izuku live).

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki keeps a pot of strawberries for you in his kitchen;

When they finally fruit he’s disgruntled.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] katsuki’s quieter than usual

So you wait. You let him have his silence, and you fill the space around it with your own presence.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] he tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be—

The bed dipping under Katsuki’s weight wakes you.

[DRABBLE 📖] [SWYR] you and bakugou walk home in the rain

“Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving

[DRABBLE 📖] [SJLT] bad touch (you and me)

Minoru’s skeleton nearly fists itself out of his asshole when a voice behind him says, “That was a kindness you just did, for Midoriya.”

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] if you were to write surrender today, do you think anything would change?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what would have been the moment bakugou knew he had it bad for surrender's reader?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] what do weeds and bakugou fight about? and how do they apologise?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] do you think bakugou ever feels like weeds would be better off without him? :(

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] have you ever written/imagined Kirishima’s POV [throughout the fic]?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] how does bakugou and haru’s relationship progress?

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] idk if you meant her to come off in this way, but [Reader] strikes me as [lonely]

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i’m literally going to throw up from excitement if you actually make a bakuweeds oneshot collection

[ASK ❔] [SWYR] i am vibrating in my boots with excitement about the [SWYR] one-shot series!

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] did you have any inspiration for the kimono Reader is wearing in SJLT?

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] looking forward to our [gala] wear

[ASK ❔] [SJLT] could we have visuals of Reader’s outfits during the gala?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] double dates

[ASK ❔] [IAL] what city/prefecture does [the series] take place in?

[ASK ❔] [IAL] how [would] the Y/Ns react to fanfic about their heroes?

[PODFIC 🎙️] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — narrated by Chthonianqueen

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] surrender (whenever you’re ready) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SWYR] and i’d give up forever to touch you: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] something (just like this) [plays on spotify]

[PLAYLIST 🎧] [SJLT] like lightning: a suggested-songs playlist [plays on spotify]

[ART ✏️] [IAL] bakugou & weeds, deku and & scribbles & bakugou/weeds, deku/scribbles, monoma/reader — by @groshia

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] you get to witness, in real time, as [Deku] leaps from the now open door — by @getstarried

[ART ✏️] [SJLT] izuku, just izuku. just as he is — by @handlethegbread

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] when you’re bakugou katsuki, — by @okeydokiescribbles

[ART ✏️] [SWYR] haru + the flower shop signs

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] the moodboard trend inspired me to make this little thing

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] SJLT is my all-time favourite fanfic,

[MOODBOARD 🖼️] [SJLT] this is just […] a collection of things that reminded me of this story

[BINDING 📚] surrender & the widening sky — @ladybirdk

[BINDING 📚] surrender (whenever you’re ready) — @/captain-liar

[PODCAST 🎙️] Canonically Incorrect, episode 75, season 2: Surrender (Whenever You’re Ready) — 10 December, 2022

[ spotify | apple ]

[PERMISSION STATEMENT:] You are more than welcome to print out any of the fics and bind yourself a copy for personal use, or otherwise record a [non-AI] reading of them, or translate into another language—as long as my ao3 username, OfMermaids, is credited somewhere as having written it. 🥹📚 I also love, love seeing and hearing about the work that goes into the pieces you create for yourselves, so if you’re comfortable with it, I’d love to see a picture of (or get a link to!) your efforts!!

final note:

This series is the result of several years worth of love and work, and most importantly, encouragement from the people who have come along and read the stories in it. Whether this is your first time discovering the trilogy, or you’re otherwise revisiting the boys, this is a note to say thank-you for being here. Thank-you for reading, and for being apart of something that has been so much fun to create. Fandom and fanfiction has always been about sharing the excitement with other people—so thank-you for letting me share mine with you. 🌷📖

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Hi are your requests still open? If they are can I request the jealous and he’s mad , prompts on the Macaque master list??? Please and thank you 🙏🏻!!!

LMK Macaque: Jealousy.

Word Count: 1915.

Content/Trigger Warnings: pushy guy that can't take a hint.

Authors Notes: Here's the He's Mad request too ^^. (wip)

<---Previous | Masterlist | Next--->

There were a lot of things Macaque learned since his reincarnation, especially about himself. One thing he never thought would have to be that seeing men around you made his skin crawl. In the few months you've known each other, seeing you smile with someone that wasn't him made his skin crawl. Seeing you laugh and smile with someone else made his skin crawl, and seeing someone make physical contact with you made his fur stand on end, and he often found himself snarling with his tail twitching uncontrollably. 

Unfortunately for Macaque, a certain Monkey King had witnessed the snarling this time. Wukong smirked mischievously when he saw what had made his beloved friend so… primal. He studied Macaque closely as the male, he forgot his name, constantly flirted with you. Now, usually Wukong would have put the guy in his place for bugging you… BUT SEEING MACAQUE LIKE THIS WAS SO FUCKING HILARIOUS! 

The male in question was the one you went on a double date with, from what you had told Wukong, it was when you saw Macaque again. Did he get past his jealousy at how close you got to the other demon? Course not, but he eventually learned to get over himself since you seemed happy when you told him about what happened that day, and how your date went. 

Since then, Wukong and basically everyone else, but you noticed how possessive Macaque was where you were concerned, especially if you get hit on. 

Sooo… like right now. As you promised, you visited the noodle shop the first chance you got. You ‘just so happened’ to run into Macaque on the way there so you invited him to tag along and enjoyed small talk on the way there. What you didn't expect though was to see a familiar face, well, faces. One of them being Wukong, who was enjoying noodles and talking with MK, the other being your friend Sofia and her boyfriend Jeremy.

At first, you didn't acknowledge Sofia and her company sitting at a table, only focused on your belly as you ordered a nice big bowl of noodles that Pigsy was eager to get. Sofia was the one to acknowledge you first, waving you over, but you motioned for her to give you a minute.

Why is this tool here? Macaque thought to himself in annoyance, Wukong snickering silently when he noticed his old friend’s pout.

“Aren't you hungry?” you turned your attention to Macaque with a smile, taking account of his sour mood. “You okay, Mac?”

The nickname made his heart race for some reason, and he had to look away from you. After a few seconds, he offered you a simple nod before he too ordered a bowl of noodles.

“(Y/n)!” Sofia yelled at you over.

“I said wait!” you snapped at your impatient friend before carefully taking the delicious bowl of noodles. “I'll be right back,” you looked at Wukong and MK.

“Take your time,” Wukong grinned as MK too waved you off with a reassuring smile.

“Sorry,” you smiled at Macaque, “you can join us if you want.”

“You go, I'll be here,” he assured, not trusting himself to be close to the male and risk hurting him.

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged and walked over to Sofia’s table with your bowl.

He was being so obvious about it, but you were oblivious to it… or maybe you just didn't care? Who knows. With Macaque falling more into his animalistic side as the time went on, Wukong had entertainment to last him years. Growling and hissing quietly, everyone was expecting the guy to disappear when this was all over, if he was lucky enough to stay alive that long. 

The group all watched as you greeted Sofia, then looked at Macaque who glared daggers at the male who tried talking to you, then back to you. You weren't looking forward to talking to him again, so you tried to collect yourself the closer you got to the table, having no choice but to sit next to him and talk to Sofia who sat in front of you.

“What’s wrong, bud?” Wukong’s voice never failed to irk him. “Jealous that your pretty girl’s getting hit on?”

Something about you being called his girl made his heart race again, hearing it from Wukong felt like an acceptance he didn't know he craved. His eyes lingered on you for a while before Wukong leaned in front of him to see his face.

“You really gonna sit here and brood?”

“I'm not brooding, I don't brood,”

“Sure you don't, bud,” he patted Macaque’s shoulder and sat beside him again. “You better not disappoint me, ya know.”

“What are you talking about?” Macaque looked at Wukong with a raised brow.

“I've decided to give you a chance to be with (Y/n),” he stated as if it were obvious. “Don't make me regret it~” he glanced at you and the male who sat beside you. “You aren't gonna let some human guy take her from you… are you?”

“She doesn't want him,” Macaque brushed him off and turned to eat his noodles. 

“Oh yeah? And how would you know that, tough guy?” he raised a brow, curious about Macaque’s confident posture.

“You didn't see how annoyed she was with him that day,” he glanced at Wukong.

“People change,” Wukong sang teasingly as he got up in Macaque’s face. “Case in point, you're all in love~”

“Shut up, moron,” he shoved Wukong’s face away from him. “She's facing away from him, focused on her friend and not making eye contact with the guy.”

“Oh~” Wukong smirked teasingly, “you're really studying her while acting all cool and collecting,” he leaned into his ear. “But we both know that seeing her close to that guy is making your blood boil,.” his grin grew when he noticed the shadow under Macaque seemed to grow. “I'm proud though, way to work on your self-control, man.”

“Hey, did you get to see that new movie showing? I heard it’s really good,” the voice got their attention and they both focused on you. 

“No, I didn't get the chance to see it yet,” you said boredly before slurping your noodles. This would have to be the first time you acknowledged him since you sat down.

“We should go see it sometime, while it’s still showing,” Lin Shi, desperate determined to get a second date out of you, suggested with a smile. 

“No, thanks, I'm good,”

“Why not?” he tilted his head and leaned in close to see your face. “Didn't you like our last date?”

It was infuriating. You thought to yourself, but chose not to respond.

“C'mon, lay off man, she's not interested,” Jeremy said, but was ignored.

“One chance,” he said softly with a smile he thought was charming.

“Don't want to,” you glanced at him. “Like ever,” you added, but it was clear he didn't know when he was beaten.

“C'mon, one night won't hurt anyone,” he chuckled softly, attempting to touch you but he couldn't move.

“You'd be surprised,” Macaque snarled, finally cutting in, using his ability to secure Lin Shi by his shadow. “She said she doesn't want to go with you,” Lin Shi looked at Macaque with a raised brow.

“I wasn't talking to you, monkey boy,” he said and motioned for him to beat it. “Now move before I make you.”

“Are you challenging me?” Macaque chuckled in amusement. 

“Macaque, don't,” you warned, trying to avoid a fight.

“Better listen to her, wouldn't want to hurt you too bad,” he glared at the dark themed primate.

“Lin, cool it, man. Don't go picking a fight,” his friend, Sofia’s new boyfriend, tried to calm things down before they escalated.

“Trust me, you don't want to pick a fight with him,” you warned, looking at Wukong with a ‘help me’ look, but he only smiled at you and gave an ‘oh well’ shrug. 

This damn bastard is just enjoying the show! You thought to yourself in annoyance. I'm gonna thump him when this is over!

“You think I'm afraid of some monkey demon?” He laughed a bit, his red eyes making an appearance and took you both by surprise. The lack of shock from Jeremy and Sofia made it clear they already knew he was a demon. 

Seeing someone’s true colours really is something to behold… you thought to yourself as you watched Shin. 

“Oh ho, so you're a demon too, huh?” Macaque tilted his head a bit, clearly amused. 

“What of it, emo boy?” Lin Shi glared.

“Oh boy,” you mumbled.

Before Macaque could react, you did something that shocked everyone, Wukong and MK’s jaw dropped as you grabbed him and kissed him like your life depended on it. It was rash, but it calmed him down real quick. You slowly pulled back, looking at him as his face flushed darker.

“Not how I thought our first kiss would happen, but I’ll take it,” he winked and grinned one of his infamous cocky grins when he collected himself. Now it was your turn to blush, you were quick to look away from him and look at the shocked group in front of you. 

“You're actually with that freak?” he asked in disgust, you were about to give him a piece of your mind for calling Macaque a freak, but the six eared Macaque rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Yes she is,” he said with confidence that made you blush. The aura that surrounded him darkened, his gaze turned sinister and made the guy stumble back, tripping over himself. “So beat it and leave her alone before I make you regret it.” he glared at Shin before he stiffly smiled. “Are we clear?”

“Yeah, we’re clear” he nodded vigorously, lips quivering.

“Beat it,” he ordered, “before I show you what I can really do.”

You all watched the terrified demon bolt out of the noodle shop, tripping over himself to get away. You've never seen someone run as fast as Shin did.

That was kinda hot… you thought to yourself as you looked up at Macaque from the corner of your eye.

I'm never going to be able to live this down… he thought to himself when he got a glimpse of Wukong’s mischievous, shit eating grin, but then focused on Sofia and her boyfriend.

“You're that puppet guy, aren't you,” Sofia asked knowingly. 

She's a sharp one. He thought to himself as he folded his arms.

“Yeah,” Macaque nodded.

“And the date you went on…?” she trailed off as she looked at you.

“Yep…” you said awkwardly. “With him.”

“You had a boyfriend… AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!” she snapped, making you flinch even though you thought you were prepared for it.

“We’re not really… dating yet…” you rubbed your fingers together sheepishly.

“Yet, huh?” Macaque smirked at you, making you glanced at him once more, but quickly looked away.

“Well…” you blushed and refused to look at him. “I didn't go out with you for nothing…”

“Well then,” he looked down at you with a grin, “wanna go see that new movie that started showing?” 

“Yeah,” you managed a smile when you finally looked at him. “I'd like that…”

“Finally!” Sofia’s loud voice made you jump a bit as she grinned that grin you didn't trust. “I finally have someone to embarrass (Y/n)!”

“Oh gods no…” you mumbled, blushing as Macaque simply grinned and enjoyed it fully.

[ihavethedreamies]

Stray Kids Historical AU! Series Hub

WIP

Oh boy! After my poll, Stray Kids was decided as the subject of my next series! Below you will find the overviews for each story and I will be working on them next and uploading them as I finish. Hopefully it won't take more than a week to get them all up, so stay tuned!

I'll be going in age order, so Bang Chan first and I.N. last.

Let me know if you want to be on a taglist! I do those, just not had too many requests to do so.

(I also struggled to find a Historical-type outfit for Changbin that wasn't older so if anyone has something more recent, let me know. I really only check on Pinterest so...)

I have a glossary of the Korean words I use in my historical fics, and if you want some pictures, see this post.

Only You - Bang Chan [NSFW]

King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other. ~4.5k

Her Hero - Lee Know [NSFW]

Podocheong! Lee Know x Noble! AFAB! Reader

(The Podocheong were like the police of Joseon Era Korea)

Summary: When a political rival of your father kidnaps you for a ransom, your father calls on the Podocheong (Police) to rescue you. An extremely handsome Bujang (Lieutenant) rescues you, but you would be loathe to admit you need (and like) a hero. =5k

Kept Secret - Changbin [NSFW]

Wonsanghwa! Changbin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

(A Wonsanghwa was essentially the guy who trained the Hwarang)

Summary: You are the youngest princess, and because of that you get the most freedom. The only thing your father refuses is to let you learn to fight. So, you get rid of the middleman and go straight to the Wonsanghwa. ~4.6k

Love is Free - Hyunjin [WIP]

Prince! Hyunjin x Merchant! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You run a store for your father that sells all kinds of clothing and accessories. A nobleman comes by nearly every other day and will buy anything you recommend. You figured at first he was there to buy gifts for his girl, but turns out, he doesn't have on. Yet.

Beside Me - Han [WIP]

Noble! Han x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You often go to spend the day with your best friend at her husband's family's estate, using it as an excuse to leave the palace. Your friend's younger-brother-in-law normally keeps to himself, but you heard he's actually really fun. You're determined to bring him out of his shell.

Love Release - Felix [NSFW]

Noble! Felix x Handmaiden! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You had been training ever since you were a little girl to grow up and serve the crown prince and later the king. Because of that, you grew up with the prince as well. Though, the one that always had caught your eye, was the prince's best friend. ~4.9k

Favorite Place - Seungmin [WIP]

Noble! Seungmin x Princess! AFAB! Reader

Summary: You are a habitual escape artist, sneaking away from the palace as often as you could to actual live a fun life. Your best friend of nearly twenty years is always on the other side of the wall to catch you. Every so often though, he goes into the palace to see you instead.

Keep You Safe - I.N. [WIP]

Personal Guard! I.N. x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Summary: Your father, because of his political position, he hired a private guard to keep you safe. He was always disguised as either a servant or a suitor. You have yet to see him actually need to protect you, and you were honestly fairly curious how well he'd do.

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @minghaosimp, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @stresskidz, @rhonnie23

[lynaferns]

FNAF Steampunk AU

That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.

I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.

So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.

Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.

If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:

All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).

Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.

DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.

Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.

Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.

Burntrap also apeared more.

All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.

Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).

Also, first idea and some doodles.

Edit: Now Cassie is in the AU

Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.

Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"

Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"

Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"

Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.

Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.

The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.

Sun-"..." "Gregory"

Gregory-"..."

Sun-"come on, say it"

Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"

Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.

They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.

Moon-"go gator boy"

Monty-"I hate you"

One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.

(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)

The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.

Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?

Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”

Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”

There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)

Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.

[zuppizup]

Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning

I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.

So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.

What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?

The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?

And what do they know about what’s to come?

You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.

Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?

Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.

Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.

So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?

In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?

Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.

Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.

I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.

Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.

From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.

I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?

Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.

To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.

Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.

Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.

Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.

I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.

Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.

We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?

Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?

Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.

Or worse, Mum has to take him out.

Angsty though!

As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.

So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.

On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.

But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.

Either way, bring on the pain.