#this was fun let me know if you read any of these

[joemama-2]

velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, cheating, scandals, drugs, drama, family drama wc: 5155 a/n: hi everyone! i'm so excited for this piece of work as I have a lot of exciting ideas planned in store! this will probably have slow updates, so please please please be patient with me. thank you all for reading! i'm aiming for at least 15ish chapters, maybe more or less, depends how much i write in one chapter in the future. next chapter

“Cash or card?”

“Card.”

The sound of light dinging follows, the transaction completed. “Here you go, Miss. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, you too.” The woman takes the small bag from your outstretched hands, giving one last smile before exiting. The bell at the top of the door rings, signifying her exit. You sigh and look at the clock, one more hour. It’s not that long. But you’ve been here since opening and the shoes you’re wearing are beginning to hurt your feet. Maybe you should’ve broken them in more.

It’s a quaint little cafe. Most of the customers are teenagers, college students, or overworked office workers who need caffeine to get them through the day. Other than that, you have no qualms. Of course, it does get a little annoying having to tell the newer, much younger co-workers that they can’t do this or that. 

A mundane routine of making coffees, packing orders, and ringing them up. Just one more hour. 

As soon as the clock strikes 5:00, you’re clocking out and saying goodbye. The school is an exact walk of ten minutes, six if you’re fast. Then another ten back to the apartment. And finally, another fifteen to the convenience store. 

Hustle and bustle is all you’ve ever known. Sure, you like it most of the time. But you just wish you could get a break. It’s always go, go, go, but never take a rest and time to yourself for a moment. But when you see that adorable smile plaster on those chubby cheeks you never shy away from pinching, it’s all worth it. “Mama!” 

“Baby!” you crouch down and open your arms. The young boy wastes no time in throwing his body into yours, face nuzzled into your chest and arms around your neck. “How was school? Fun?” you ask, hand rubbing his back up and down.

He nods. “Mhm! Mr. Ito says I got the most gold stars out of everyone in class.” 

Your smile grows wistful, aweing. “Wow, such a good boy, aren’t you?”

You carry Koji into your arms, starting the walk back to your very humble apartment. He chatters innocently the entire trek, with you occasionally adding on or asking questions. His soft white hair pokes at your cheek, to which you straighten down with one free hand. It’s days like these where you wish you could just lounge at home with him, basking in his sweet innocence. But while most people are ending for the day, you’re barely starting your second half.

You feel the self-deprecating thoughts fill your mind like a virus while stationed near the light, waiting for the pedestal symbol to indicate. Your grip tightens around your son slightly, as if anchoring yourself to reality and reminding yourself you’re doing it all for him, and to keep going for him. 

It’s hard, yes. But so is parenting. 

The symbol comes on and you walk, seeing the building of your complex in the distance. Forcing any lingering negativity away, you clear your throat. “So, what did you learn today, baby?”

Koji looks up at you. “We learned how to add! I helped Mina.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

He giggles bashfully, leaning into the kiss you place on his cheek. Eyebrows raising as a sudden memory hits him. “Oh! And Mr. Ito said Dad Appreciation Day is next month. There’s gonna be food and music.”

Your smile wavers, footsteps momentarily pausing before continuing. “Oh, really?” you ask, inhaling a wavy breath of air. “That sounds like fun.”

“Mhm.” Koji nods, then tilts his head curiously at you. “But everyone is bringing their daddies. I wanna bring Papa too.” 

And you really try not to make your guilty grimace visible. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

“Can Papa come?” he frowns. 

No, he can’t. But you’re not about to tell your five-year-old that the reason his father can’t make an appearance is because he doesn’t even know he has a son. It’s been a difficult conversation for you. You’re not sure when or how to have these sorts of hard ones with children. So you’ve been dancing around the subject. Saying his dad is away on vacation, or fighting intergalactic dragons, or some other excuse you’ve been forced to use. He believes you, most of the time. But that doesn’t stop his curiosity and growing impatience. 

The last thing you want him to think is that he has no father in the first place.

He does. You’ve shown him pictures and videos occasionally. Of, and of course, he’s an exact carbon copy of the man. From his bright blue eyes, albino hair, and all the way down to his stubborn personality. You were a little annoyed when your only child took quite literally everything from his father, only leaving him with a couple of things from you–your nose and helpful nature. 

“We’ll see. Papa is busy, remember?” you gently reply, walking through the parking lot of your complex to the lobby.

Koji’s frown deepens and so do the metaphorical scars on your heart. “But Papa’s always busy! I wanna see Papa.”

“I know you do, baby. You will soon, okay?”

“Do you promise?”

You hesitate but eventually nod with a forced smile. “Mama promises.”

After leaving Koji with the babysitter, you give him a quick kiss and recite the list with the babysitter before rushing off to your second job. A convenience store. 

Not the most savory place, mainly because you get all sorts of crazy and odd customers, but also because you are close. You hate closing. But you need the second disposable income and this is the only place that fits with your schedule. It’s also a little more leaned back than the cafe, when there are no customers, you spend your time browsing the web for jobs.

You’ve probably sent in over 500 applications over the years, with not even half of those places reaching out. Even then, you’re not guaranteed a job. The job market is horrible nowadays and you’re living through it.

Whatever, you think to yourself as you clock in. One day at a time.

It’s around eleven at night when you're slugging back into your apartment, lights dim, and silence enveloping the place. “Thank you, Sana.” You mutter, exhausted but still sparing the 20-year-old a smile. You hand her a small envelope. “For today and last Saturday. How was he?”

Sana thanks you kindly and grabs her stuff. “All good, no tantrums today.”

“That’s good.” you walk into the kitchen, grabbing some food you’ve meal prepped. “Get home safe, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N. Sleep well.”

When she leaves, you give yourself a moment to slump over the kitchen island, sighing in both relief and lingering tiredness. The silence feels nice, like an old and familiar friend welcoming you and praising you after yet another day of the same routine. You’ve always loved routines, but you can’t help but crave at least some sort of spontaneity. Putting the tupperware of chicken and rice into the microwave for a minute, its light humming makes you zone out. The conversation from before with your son ringing in your mind like a very annoying bell.

Soon, images of his son, your ex, flood your mind. An old fluttery sensation residing in the pit of your stomach, your body suddenly feeling all too warm for your liking. Your fists clench to stop their light trembling, shaking your head free of him. 

Not now.

You stop the microwave at one second, before it makes that obnoxious beeping and wakes your son. There are two chairs at the small dining table, you sit at one of them and eat your now warm meal. You’ve started meal prepping after one too many missed meals and a few incidents where that light-headedness and blurred vision caused you to faint. Luckily, you were alone when that happened. Unluckily, you were alone when that happened. Nursing a few bruises to your forehead after making contact was not a fun time. 

You take time to eat, in no particular rush. Although you know you should be getting ready for bed soon for another early day tomorrow, your body doesn’t move. Either consciously or subconsciously. The end of the day is when you find yourself attempting to unwind and detach from the day’s events. But, the stress of unpaid bills, debts, and worry for the future always find time to crawl back.

It’s exhausting, extremely so. Sure, you’re an adult and this is normal. But don’t you deserve at least a little bit of time when you don’t have to worry about anything? It feels like every waking second your mind is working overtime, your body in a constant state of motion. It’s worn you down completely over the years. But you have a son who needs you, so you suppose you shouldn’t be feeling pity for yourself.

This is what parenting is all about, isn’t it?

Making sacrifice after sacrifice for your child. However, when you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper, slowly losing more of yourself, what if there’s nothing left to sacrifice in the first place? The eviction bill from this morning taunts you as it lays upright in front of you in the middle of the table.

It’s then do you think, no, you do have one thing left. 

Koji.

If Koji’s gone, then you really have nothing left. There’s no reason to live if that happens. And with the path you’re going down, that’s feeling more and more like a dreaded possibility. 

I wanna see Papa.

Koji’s words play repeatedly. For a second, you feel yourself resonating with your son. Only for a second. You reach for your phone and go to Google, typing in a name that still haunts you. You’re barely three letters in before his name appears and you’re clicking.

A smiling image fills your screen along with other general information.

For some unknown reason, your breath hitches. You feel like he’s almost staring at you, smiling at your pathetic predicament. Grip tightening around your phone, swallowing down an unexpecting lump, tears fall from your eyes and onto the phone screen.

Why you’re crying, you don’t know. It could be many things, but you won’t address that right now.

Gojo Satoru.

The father of your child, your ex of 4 years. 

You rarely look him up, almost never. Only in desperate times when you feel yourself drowning and needing some sort of comfort. It’s stupid. You haven’t been together or even seen him in seven years. Not since you ended things with him. Not since you felt his hands roam your skin, whispering sweet words.

He didn’t even protest or question why. Almost like he knew your breakup was inevitable. You’re not sure if that hurts more.

You’re twenty-eight now. But while your life still feels the same from when you met Satoru at the ripe age of seventeen, you’ve reached a plateau. But him? He’s thriving, of course. Making a name for himself, as an heir to one of the biggest conglomerates in Japan, the Gojo Group. 

You’re happy for him. But where is that happiness for yourself?

You feel a little, no, a lot jealous. You always were of Satoru. Being given everything he wants without much thought, never worrying about money, and a stable home life. You’re extremely jealous of that bastard.

But right now, jealousy isn’t in the picture. It’s your son’s father. And if you want to keep your son, give him everything he wants, that starts with one person.

Letting him meet his father. 

“Honey, do you like your pancakes?” you ask your son who’s currently scarfing down his plate of breakfast. Adorned in an adorable shirt uniform shirt and some little black trousers. He hums back excitedly with a muffled “yes, mama”. With a chuckle, you dry up the rest of the dishes, then your hands. Dropping him off at school is the first thing on your agenda, as per usual. 

The walk to his school is a familiar one, wanting to get your son knowledgeable with the route so when the day comes that he needs to walk him himself, he’d know his way back. You pass by other kids and parents, some children yelling bye as they step onto the school grounds, with others giving their children long-lasting hugs.

You walk until you reach his door, his teacher, Mr. Ito, standing outside and greeting his students as they enter. When he makes eye contact with Koji, he smiles a bit wider. “Good morning, Koji.”

“Good morning!” your son happily replies, waving up at his teacher. With one final hug and kiss shared, he’s running in to already begin talking to his friends. Standing back up, you see Mr. Ito already looking at you. And you especially don’t miss the way his eyes not so subtly rake up and down your figure. You clear your throat. “Good morning.”

He meets your eyes again. “Good morning, Y/N-san. How are you today?”

“Good, and you?” 

“Very good.” 

The way his tone is almost causes you to visibly shiver, brows furrowing slightly in discomfort. One of the things you dislike the most about Koji’s school, his teacher. Although he hasn’t outwardly done or said anything inappropriate, you’re a smart woman. “That’s good. Well…have a nice day.” Doing anything you can to quickly end this dreaded conversation, but still wanting to maintain a level of politeness. 

You’re about to turn on your heel and leave when he calls out. “Ah, Y/N-san?”

Damn it, what now? “Yes?” you turn and look at him.

The distance between you reduces as he steps a little closer. “I have some concerns regarding Koji’s behavior in class. Would you be available to set up a conference anytime this week?”

“Behavior? Has he been misbehaving?” You did not expect that.

“Well, it’s complicated. He has some trouble listening as talks when he shouldn’t. I’d like to nip this in the bud before it grows out of control.” Mr. Ito cooly replies, smile looking more like a hidden smirk. “So, will you be available?”

You hesitate, not really. With your two jobs, you barely have time for yourself, let alone your son’s teacher. But if it’s regarding a behavior problem, then do you have any choice? “I think I’ll be free this Saturday. Weekdays are very hectic for more.”

He nods. “That’s fine, we can grab coffee.” When your head tilts slightly, he adds on with a chuckle. “And discuss Koji over coffee. On me.”

Right, of course. You know what this is, but just think about your son. That’s the priority. “Okay, 8 am at Latte Lounge sound good?”

“Sounds excellent, I’ll see you then. Have a wonderful day.”

With a simple nod back, you turn around and finally leave. Practically feeling the way his eyes shamelessly check out your behind. A frown inevitably grows on your face, why wouldn’t it? As long as this man doesn’t try anything…more, you should be fine. And if he does, 1) you’ll be in public, and 2) you’ll tell him straight up.

Whatever. 

“Pizza or teriyaki?”

“Pizza!”

“Of course.” you chuckle and put the frozen pizza in your cart, your son clutched onto your right hand after announcing he can walk on his own because he’s a big boy. The grocery store isn’t crowded during this time of day. Rightfully so. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday, most people already cooking dinner by now. You always grocery shop at this time, your son appreciates it too. There’s been a few times when you both got quickly and very overwhelmed with the bustling nature of the grocery store on a weekend morning. Currently, you’re moving through the snack section now, picking up a few of your and Koji’s favorites. 

“Mama, can I pick a cereal?” Koji asks and points to the cereal aisle next over. When you nod, he happily runs off. You still however make sure to look over at him frequently when picking up and putting down a few snacks. 

You reach up to grab a pack of Hello Panda, the pink and chocolate ones, before a hand beats you to it. “Oh, I’m sorry.” As soon as you look over, you and the stranger meet eyes. 

Immediately, there’s a silence that falls over you two. Eyes each blown wide in shock. 

Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.

Just your luck. As soon as the stranger speaks, a strange nostalgia fills you. “Y-Y/N?”

It almost sounds weird coming from his lips. Your friend–well, ex?--friend gets out. He still looks the same, just more…manly. 

“...Suguru, I–I’m… surprised to see you.” you awkwardly laugh. Reunions were never easy.

“Oh my god,” Suguru breaths out, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Well, shit. I mean, how are you? You..you look good.” His eyes move down your figure in an appreciative way.

“Thank you, I’m good. How are you? Your hair is longer.” you motion to his sea of black, healthy locks. “ ‘M a little jealous.”

He laughs with you, the sound reminding you of old times. “Yeah, been working on it. And I’m good.”

Another pause is permitted, as if you two aren’t very sure what to say to one another. Well, in all honesty, it has been seven years. “Well,” he clears his throat and puts his hands in his pockets. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know,” you glance down at your cart. “Just some shopping.”

He also looks down, head tilting slightly. “Ah, right.” With a nod, he juts his head toward the direction of the kid’s toothpaste. “Just for one?” He laughs, joking of course. 

You mentally curse yourself, putting a pack of cookies on top of the toothpaste to hide its already revealed existence. “Uh, ye—”

“Mama! I want this one!” Koji runs up to you, showcasing his desired cereal.

Well…..shit. 

As if things weren’t already complicated.

With Suguru’s eyes even wider than when they were staring at you, his mouth is practically on the floor when the young boy looks at him. His sharp eyes dart across his features and…..

“I-is this—”

“Koji.” you cut him off, gulping and shifting the child closer to your leg. “My son.”

Suguru spends another good minute staring at the boy, who innocently stares back. When his eyes slowly move from the blue ones to yours, there are a million and more questions swirling in his brain. He’s not even sure which one to ask first. But he goes with the obvious. “...Is….is he…..”

You nod uncomfortably. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, hand running through his hair. “Holy shit, I mean….holy heck.”

Your lips purse, putting Koji’s cereal in your cart before picking him up in your arms. “Koji, this is Suguru. Say hi.”

“Hi.” Koji childishly smiles at the older man. “Are you Mama’s friend?”

Suguru spares you a glance. “Uhm…yeah. Yeah, kid, I am. Nice to meet you.” He then shifts weirdly, not sure if he should shake the boy’s hand, which seems too formal. He decides to gently ruffle his hair. “So…how old is he?” The question is directed towards you, but Koji answers. “I’m five!” He holds up five small fingers. 

“Five?” Suguru’s brows furrow at you. It’s surprising how quickly you recognize that scolding look of his. “Have you—”

“No.” you once again cut him off, shifting Koji to your hip. “I haven’t.”

“Why?”

That’s a good question. One you know the answer to…slightly. But with Koji looking between you two curiously, you can’t exactly say why. At least not here. “I….I just…haven’t.”

Silence. 

You can feel Suguru regarding you with many emotions, but the main one is confusion. He bites his lip as he thinks over how to react properly to this situation. From the looks of it, Koji is just as clueless as him, maybe even more. “Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what to say right now.” Heavily sighing, he looks back at Koji, then you, then Koji, then finally you. “You’re going to…right? I mean, he deserves to know, Y/N. You’ve just–I mean, come on.”

There’s not much of a response to that, much to his expectation. You always used to do this when you were guilty. But Suguru has always been the more… empathetic of the two. “Look, I–I know you’re probably going through your own things, but…”

You look at him again, remorseful. His lips purse and with a heavy sigh, he takes a card out from his pocket and hands it to you. “Here’s my business card, it has my number. We lost your old one, so.”

Your hand reaches out to take it, examining the words, Rising Futures Foundation. "Building futures, one child at a time.” You meet his eyes again, forcing words out. “Okay…thanks.” 

“No need,” he waves you off, taking down the two Hello Panda boxes and putting them in your cart. “I’m sorry, I have things to do right now, but please…give me a call, okay?”

With slight hesitation, you nod. He mirrors you before focusing on the child again, a smile forming. “See you, buddy.” Suguru pats his shoulder lightly before walking away and away from your vision.

Your mind is being overrun, body feeling stiff and stuck, unsure of how to process what the fuck just happened. No doubt he’s about to tell his best friend. Then said best friend will find you and Koji. Then maybe he’ll try taking you to court for hiding his son for five years. You’ll obviously lose because you have no lawyer and Satoru has the best. Your son, your one and only, your sole happiness will be taken away from you and you’ll be left alone to rot in angui–

“Mama?” Koji’s small hand is put to your cheek, stirring you from your mild comatose state. “Are you okay? You have tears in your eyes.”

“What?” Raising your hand to your eye and sure enough, you are letting loose some tears. “No, no, Mama’s okay. I’m not crying, just…just tired.”

But with growing age, so is his perception. “Are you sure? Did your friend make you cry? I don’t like him then.”

Oh, how sweet. You smile, head tilting. “No, baby. Don’t say that, okay? Mama’s fine. I promise. See? I’m smiling. Wanna smile with me?”

Like clockwork, he follows your emotions and smiles, giggling. “Yeah, I wanna smile with you. I like smiling with you, Mama.”

“And I like it when you smile with me too.”

Maybe, this isn’t too bad. You were just thinking that you want Koji to finally meet his dad. So, this is good. This ensures a meeting. But, it also ensures a deep-rooted, most likely bad confrontation that will take place between you two. Why wouldn’t it? At least you’ll be able to prepare yourself now, mentally. 

You can imagine the harsh words he might say. The raised voices and brutal questions about how you can do this to him and so on. In hindsight, you deserve it. What kind of woman does do this to a man? Children are supposed to be bundles of joy, not hidden secrets. Of course, there’s the lingering worries of what legal action Satoru, or his family, might try to take.

That would quite literally fuck you over so hard.

But…maybe Satoru will go easy on you because of your past. You really don’t know. This situation is messy as fuck and it’s mostly—a lot—because of you. You have no one to blame but yourself. Hopefully, he’ll take pity on you, even though you hate when others pity you. It’s different when it comes to him, the father of your son. It always has been and it probably always will be. 

Honestly, you’re a little relieved that you ran into the best friend of the man than the man himself. Now that would’ve been bad. 

The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, mixed with heavy grunts and airy moans. The headboard repeatedly hitting the wall plays like a drum, the lights dim and the view of the dark city landscape is exposed. Satoru’s gripping the woman’s hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in her fair skin. Her constant mewls sound heavenly in his ears. “God, you feel so….good…”

“S-satoru!” 

“Yeah, say my name. Just like that, baby.”

He presses a firm hand down on the small of her back to keep her arch in place, feeling his release invade her warm walls, filling her with a lovely warmth. She clenches around him, moaning out once more as she finishes with him.

He collapses against her back, his heavy breaths tingling her ear. “Baby, that was…so good…” she croaks out. 

Satoru’s mind is fuzzy, vision blurring slightly. He hums in response and leans back up to pull out, discarding the heavy condom with his load into the trashcan beside the bed. “Stay.” With a small pat to her hip, he’s forcing his limbs out of bed and to the connecting bathroom to grab a warm rag. Aftercare. Although most of the time, he really can’t be bothered to do something like this. Cleaning her up feels like a chore sometimes,  but the last time he voiced that opinion, it led to a huge argument between the two. 

In just a few minutes, they’re both cleaned and changed. Wearing his sweats low on his hips while she indulges in just one of his oversized shirts. Another small pet peeve he has. And another thing he must keep his mouth shut about. “What time do you have to go into the office tomorrow?” Himari asks, snuggled up against his chest, dainty fingers tracing circles along the firm muscles. 

“Same time as always,” he sighs, grabbing the TV remote and putting a random show on. “You know that.”

“I know, but…can’t you just call off tomorrow? Please? I wanna spend the day with you.”

When he looks back down at her, she’s frowning. A small tug is pulled at his heart and before he knows it, he’s pulling her closer and placing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Can’t, baby. Maybe this weekend?”

Satoru can feel her ready to protest again, but the sound of the front door downstairs being opened and closed interrupts the moment. Followed by the familiar voice of his friend. “Satoru! You here?”

Satoru’s brows furrow slightly. A small grunt falls from his lips as he maneuvers Himari off his chest, standing up and walking out. He looks down the staircase and sees Suguru staring up at him. “What do you want? I’m sorta busy.” Himari comes out and hugs his waist, proof of his so-called “busyness”. 

Suguru holds back an eye roll when the woman gives him a look, focusing on his best friend. “Need to talk to you. Privately.” 

“For what?”

“It’s important.”

“So just say it now.”

“Damn it, Satoru. Just come down and kick your friend out.”

“Girlfriend.” Himari corrects with a scowl.

“Yeah, sure.” Suguru waves her off and motions for Satoru to come down as he walks into the man’s kitchen.

Sighing with his eyes closed, he turns to Himari. “Sorry, babe. My driver’ll give you a ride back.”

Once again, she frowns. “But I—”

“Please.” 

His bottom lip pokes out in a small, but convincing pout. “I’ll see you later, mkay?” Satoru reaches his thumb out and brushes it along her cheekbone, which he knows she’s weak for. Confliction and hesitation dance in her eyes but she concedes. Gathering her purse and shows, she gives Satoru a dramatic kiss on the lips before leaving. 

“Finally,” Suguru huffs from the kitchen, swirling a glass of whiskey. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“It was a break.” Satoru grumbles, walking over to stand across from his friend, snatching the glass out his hand and sipping. “Anyway, what’s so important you come unannounced for and demand my sweet company to leave?”

“That woman is not sweet.” 

Satoru smiles and shrugs, “She tastes it.” 

A groan is heard from Suguru, eyes rolling before he shakes his head. “Look, you should sit down.”

“That good, huh?” he plops down in the nearby chair and leans back, arm resting against the back of it. He nods. “Alright, shoot, baby.”

Suguru takes in a deep breath and steels himself for the more than likely hard conversation. A part of him feels like he’s intruding, like it’s not his place to reveal such a thing to him. But at the end of the day, it’s his best friend. And you, well…he’s not exactly sure if you’re still friends or not. “What I tell you might sound crazy, but I need you to promise you’ll stay calm until I’m done speaking, got it?”

Satoru’s brows raise in mild astonishment, seeing Suguru get all serious like this is quite amusing. “Okay, I promise.” He shrugs again. “Can’t be that bad, right? No one’s hurt.”

Not yet, Suguru says to himself. He claps his hands together, mulling over how exactly to break the news. “So, I came across an old friend today.”

“Oh yeah? She cute?” Satoru swirls the alcohol in his glass.

Suguru holds back another eye roll. “Yeah, she is.”

“Nice, man.” the white-haired man chuckles, head tilting. “So what, did she make a move on you or something? Now that’s crazy.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m actually quite favorable amongst women.”

“Are you now?”

“Listen, you ass. No talking, just listening.” When he doesn’t get a response back, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Anyway, I saw an old friend. And…she had a kid with her.” Satoru nods slowly, already getting lost on his this information is even remotely crazy, or relevant to him. But he stays shut, deciding not to face another one of Suguru’s mini-lectures. One more deep breath is let out from Suguru and he gets to the point. “It was Y/N, she has a kid.”

A small beat of silence follows as Suguru gauges his best friend’s reaction. He doesn’t look like he’s flipping out, but he doesn’t show much emotion either. Confusing Suguru, he waits for the inevitable lash out. “Who?” Satoru ends up asks.

His best friend knits his brows, trying to see if the other man is serious or not. When his expression doesn’t change, he replies. “Y/N…” he speaks slowly. “...your ex?”

Still, no emotion. But his grip on the glass does tighten.  “And she has a kid.” Suguru reiterates, almost in nervousness now. 

“Satoru….the kid looks exactly like you.”

a/n: thank you guys for reading!!! Sorry if this chapter was a little short, i’ll try to make the next ones a little more longer. But writing super huge chapters isn’t my forte. Anyway, stay tuned for chapter 2 :)

[lustlovehart]

Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!

If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~

Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.

Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!

Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.

The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.

“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”

Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.

Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.

Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.

“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”

“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.

But to your dismay, he finds one.

“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”

“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.

In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.

His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…

He could help everyone.

…

His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.

And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.

Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.

He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—

Ah, you’re asleep again.

Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.

He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.

He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.

Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.

It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.

…

You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.

There’s a note hastily inscribed.

Human, leave soon.

Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.

In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.

… You feel like you’ve seen this before.

[goldfades]

https://www.tumblr.com/goldfades/768009162138517504/title-luke-hughes

What about luke’s reaction? coming into the room after the boys told him he was wrong at practice or something, maybe he saw the comments?

it’s a little past eight when you hear the front door slam. you’re curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone with a smug grin on your face. the video you posted earlier is still blowing up, comment after comment pouring in. your favorite so far might be the one that reads “he’s so confident it’s actually heartbreaking”—but there’s stiff competition.

the sound of heavy footsteps stomping down the hallway makes your ears perk up, and you sit up straighter just in time for luke to appear in the doorway. he’s still in his practice gear, hair damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed pink, but his expression is what gets you: somewhere between confusion, betrayal, and... is that a pout?

“you,” he says, pointing at you with the kind of dramatic flair usually reserved for soap operas. “you set me up.”

you blink innocently, setting your phone down. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

luke steps further into the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “don’t play dumb. the guys wouldn’t shut up about your video during practice. jack kept reading the comments out loud! ‘cuticle pusher means nail thingies? HAHAHA.’ do you know how humiliating that is?”

you’re already biting your lip to keep from laughing, but when he mimics jack’s voice, the dam breaks. you burst into giggles, doubling over as luke groans loudly.

“it’s not funny!” he protests, though the way his ears turn pink suggests he’s more embarrassed than actually mad. “i was so proud of myself, and you—you let me think i was getting them all right!”

wiping a tear from your eye, you manage to catch your breath long enough to speak. “okay, okay, listen. it wasn’t my fault you were so confident! i mean, ‘tight lines’? really?”

he groans again, flopping onto the couch next to you with a dramatic sigh. “i knew something was off when you said i got ‘halo eye’ right. but you were so convincing!” he shoots you a look, half accusing, half amused. “you’re evil. actually evil.”

you snicker, nudging his shoulder. “oh, come on. you were having fun.”

“yeah, until i realized you were setting me up for the internet to roast me,” he mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “look at this—this one says i belong in a museum for confidence alone.”

you glance at his screen and can’t help but laugh again. “they’re not wrong.”

he groans, tossing his phone onto the coffee table and sinking lower into the couch. “i’ll never live this down.”

“oh, stop being dramatic,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you made people laugh, and isn’t that what really matters?”

he’s quiet for a moment, then tilts his head toward you, lips twitching like he’s fighting a smile. “did i at least look good in the video?”

you grin, reaching up to ruffle his curly hair. “you always look good, lukey. even when you’re confidently getting everything wrong.”

his laugh rumbles under your ear as he finally relaxes, letting himself sink into the moment. “you better watch your back, though. payback is coming.”

“oh, i’m shaking,” you say with a smirk, already planning the next video in your head.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Jealousy ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,300ish

Summary: You and Logan have your jealous moments.

Notes: This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

There was no absolute reason you should have laughed like that in the grocery store, especially when Logan wasn’t making you laugh. He had left you alone for a brief moment, only to get the items you asked of him. When Logan returned to you, you were laughing with another guy. His jaw clenched as his hands threatened to shred the items in his hands. The claws almost came out as soon as your hand playfully hit the man's arm.

You bent down to pick up the large case of water, only for the man to place his hands on you. The man moved you away from the case and bent down to get the case himself, putting it on your cart. Logan took large strides to get to you, reaching your side once the man had already walked off.

When you caught sight of Logan, you smiled and took the items from him. “Thanks, honey,” you said.

“Who was that?” Logan growled, glaring at where the man had disappeared.

“Oh, I don't know. I accidentally ran into him, and he helped me get the waters.”

“How kind.”

Logan’s tone let you know that he had seen the interaction and was not okay with it. This gave you the perfect opportunity to see how jealous he could be. When would he break, and exactly how?

“It’s no big deal,” you shrugged, continuing your trek down the aisle.

Logan walked behind you, practically having his chest against your back. As you continued to gather the items on your list, you started to have a little fun with it. First, you stopped in front of the cereals and began to pull one box at a time and study what was in it.

“Just grab our normal,” Logan stated after you checked out the fourth box. His brows pinched together when you ignored him. “Babe?”

You continued ignoring him, finally grabbing two boxes of cereal and placing them in the cart. This happened a few more times, allowing you to sense Logan’s growing frustration. Then, you went to the deli section and began to flirt with the workers as you asked for what you needed. Logan’s claws poked out as he clenched his fists. You said a too-sweet thank you to the workers before heading towards your next destination.

Logan glared at the workers, barely missing which aisle you went down. You noticed that he wasn't following you, so you quickly grabbed what you needed and disappeared to another aisle. Logan grew increasingly frustrated as you continued disappearing before he could reach you. When Logan finally found you, you were at the checkout, flirting with the worker. 

As soon as Logan appeared at your side, it was time to pay. You motioned your head towards him.

“He’s got this,” you told the worker and then left with the cart of groceries.

“Okay,” the worker said, confused about what was going on. “Sir, that will be—“

“Here,” Logan slammed down more cash than necessary. “Keep it.”

Then he stomped out to the truck, where you had already loaded the groceries and were waiting in the passenger seat like you were completely innocent. Logan got into the car and sped off, gripping the steering wheel so tight you were worried it was going to break. But you continued to avoid him, focused on a book you had left in the car.

As soon as the truck had pulled up at home, Logan threw it into park and was at your door before you could get out. He threw it open and grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Logan!” You squealed. He began to walk to the house. “The groceries!”

“They can wait,” he muttered. He carried you into the house and threw you on the bed. He knelt above you, pinning your hands in place. “Am I not enough?”

“What?”

“You. Today. The flirting. The ignoring.”

“Logan,” you laughed. “It was a joke! And it clearly worked.”

“You played with me today, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting your lip.

“You’re gonna regret that. I’m gonna spend the rest of the day reminding you of who you belong to.”

~~~

This was one of those moments that you hated that Logan couldn't wear a wedding band. Stupid claws. You had just pulled up to pick up Logan from work to see the new lumberyard secretary leaning against the tree next to where Logan was working. It was clear that Logan was ignoring her, but she was persistent. You got out of the truck, slamming the door to see if it would do anything. Neither of them turned to look at you. Your hands were growing hot, flames threatening to explode from you.

“Hey! It’s the wife!” One of the men, Todd, exclaimed. He and a few others headed towards you.

“Hi, boys,” you briefly glanced their way before focusing on the scene in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Picking up Logan today?"

“Yep.”

“I see that Lucy has found Logan.”

“Lucy, huh?”

“She’s been flirting it up with all of us. Besides, don't get too worried; Logan only has eyes for you.”

“Thanks, Todd. See you boys around.” 

You waved before heading over to where Lucy and Logan were. You watched as Lucy moved closer to Logan, brushing her hands against his arm. Clenching your jaw harder, you were trying not to burn the place down.

Logan smirked as he continued working. He had smelt you the moment you got out of the truck, but now it was clear as day. He knew that Lucy being this close would drive you crazy, so he wasn't working too hard to change the situation. He set his ax down and shrugged off his flannel, leaving him in one of his famous white tank tops. Logan saw Lucy bite her lip and shamelessly check him out. 

“Hey, honey," you said, coming up to him.

Logan had to bite back a laugh; you were laying it on thick. “Hey, sweetheart,” he replied.

You came over to his side and put your arms around him, ensuring your ring was evident. “Who is this?”

“I’m Lucy,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N, Logan’s wife.”

“Oh, it's nice to meet you. Logan is one of our best workers.”

“I’m sure.”

“Surprised I haven't heard him talk about you. Are you two recently married?”

You were going to kill this woman. Logan could feel the heat threatening to burn through his shirt.

“A few years now,” you replied through gritted teeth.

“That’s nice,” she said. “I hope it all works out.”

Before you could stop it, the pile of logs next to Lucy had caught on fire. Logan quickly pushed you away from it as the other men rushed over to put the fire out and get Lucy. 

“Put it out, baby,” Logan muttered, trying not to laugh.

With a deep breath, the fire died.

“Everyone all right?” Todd asked, looking around.

“NO!” Lucy shrieked. She was holding the ends of her long hair that the flames had singed. “My hair is ruined!”

A satisfied smirk overtook your lips. “That’s too bad," you said. “I know that there’s a few good hairdressers in town. Let me know if you need their numbers.”

Lucy scoffed before storming off. Logan finally let out a chuckle, pulling you closer to his side.

"Alright, boys, I’ll see you next week,” Logan said. The men said goodbye as Logan led you back to the truck. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Fine," you huffed, sitting in the passenger seat with your arms folded over your chest. “Just didn’t like the way that she was near you…”

Logan chuckled, pulling you across the bench seat to sit closer. “You don't have anything to worry about anything, darling." He kissed your cheek. “I’m all yours.”

[moowmoon]

DOCTOR

— spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

— summary: she was with a cold, and he was her personal doctor.

— c/w: sickness, cold and fever

— w/c: 0.9k

— a/n: hello! how are you guys doing? i had fun writing his one and i kinda wish that spencer was here taking care of me lol! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there's any mistake!

The rain drummed softly against the windows, filling the apartment with a constant, comforting rhythm. Spencer entered the living room, his footsteps silent on the carpet. He saw her lying on the sofa, curled up under a blanket, her face slightly flushed with fever. A pile of crumpled tissues rested on the coffee table next to an empty mug.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asked, his voice low but full of concern. He knelt beside the sofa, studying the tired face in front of him.

"Terrible. But at least you're here." the reply came out hoarse but accompanied by a weak smile.

Spencer smiled back, gently pressing his hand to her forehead. "It's still warm, but better than this morning. I'll make some more tea."

Without waiting for an answer, he got up and disappeared through the kitchen door. From the sofa, she followed his movements with heavy eyes, feeling the heat of Spencer's concern as warm as the blanket.

He walked back into the room with measured steps, carefully balancing a tray in his hands. The mug of tea was spewing fine spirals of steam, and beside it lay some simple but inviting cookies. He stopped beside the sofa and watched her for a moment. She was partially covered, one hand loosely holding the blanket while the other rested on her chest, rising and falling in a rhythm that indicated persistent tiredness.

"I've brought you something." Spencer's voice was low, but full of tenderness.

She opened her eyes slowly and, although she didn't have the strength to move much, she managed to give a weak smile and get up slowly. Spencer put the tray on the side table, picked up the blanket, and carefully arranged it, pulling it up to her shoulders.

"You didn't have to…" the voice came out hoarse, but grateful.

"Of course I needed it." he leaned over and rested his palm lightly on her forehead. "The fever has started to come down. That's good." a small but sincere smile appeared on his lips before he picked up the mug and handed it to her. "Drink it slowly. It's still warm."

As she brought the mug to her lips, Spencer sat down next to her on the sofa, close enough for their shoulders to touch. He watched intently as if monitoring every little movement, and when she took a cautious sip, he spoke, his voice a reassuring whisper.

"Just rest. The paperwork can wait, and you don't have to worry about anything now. I'm here."

She stared at him, her eyes shining with something other than tiredness. A feeling of comfort and gratitude that only Spencer could offer at that moment.

After a few minutes, the room was plunged into a comfortable dimness, with only the soft light of a lamp filling the corners. Spencer was sitting on the sofa, a book open in his hands, his voice low and calm as he read.  Each word came out with an almost hypnotic cadence, projecting tranquil images into the room.

Still wrapped in the blanket, she leaned on his shoulder, adjusting her head so that she could hear the warm timbre of his voice more closely. She sighed, gradually relaxing as the tension left her body.

Without interrupting his reading, Spencer let one of his hands slide down her back, his fingers drawing slow, meticulous circles, a gesture that seemed as automatic as it was intentional.

"You know I could listen to this all day, right?" her voice sounded muffled against his shoulder, laden with tiredness but also a slight humor.

Spencer paused and smiled, closing the book for a moment. He watched her with quiet affection, his eyes filled with a fondness that needed no words to understand.

"And I'd read all day if it would help you get better faster."

She let out a low, husky laugh, her head sinking further into his shoulder. Sensing the movement, Spencer adjusted his arm to wrap around her completely, holding her firmly and gently.

"It's working," she murmured, almost falling asleep.

Spencer didn't reply, just resumed reading, continuing to trace those comforting little circles; the sound of his voice blending with the quiet rhythm of the pages being turned and the rain.

Her breathing became slow and rhythmic, signaling that sleep had finally overcome the discomfort of fever. Her head rested on Spencer's shoulder, her features, once marked by fatigue, now softened into an expression of peace.

He remained motionless for a few moments, listening to that calm, steady sound. Carefully, he adjusted the blanket once more, pulling it up to cover her shoulders and making sure she was warm.

Tilting his head slightly, he observed every detail of her sleeping face. The lips parted, the eyelashes casting delicate shadows against the still slightly flushed skin. There was something deeply comforting about that moment of stillness as if the whole world had been put on pause so that he could be there, exactly where he needed to be.

Spencer sighed softly, a sound of relief mixed with gratitude. He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before leaning back further on the sofa, the comforting weight against him bringing a sense of belonging.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, even though he knew the words wouldn't be heard. Even so, saying them out loud seemed important, almost like a promise.

As the rain continued its gentle rhythm against the windows, Spencer stood there, his arms tightly around the one he loved, treasuring that moment of peace.

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

reader x jay

jay, your long time school crush

a trip between your friend group and his to a cabin in the woods

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

check out my masterlist!

“will you loosen up!” your friend, yuna, exclaimed. “we are here to have fun!”

“hard to have fun when it’s freezing, a snow storm coming our way, and to top it off, you booked a cabin on a hill in the woods!” you rattled off, pulling your suite case out of the rented SUV.

your other friend, sully, scoffed, “you need to leave those suspense books and movies, alone.”

you huffed crossing your arms. “how did you even know my mind was going that way?”

“because your mind always does.” sully replied.

“no it doesn’t.”

“yes it does.” both sully and yuna replied with a laugh.

you huffed once again, your coat not doing much to keep you warm. “when are these other friends of yours coming, yuna?”

yuna smiled big, “oh soon. they should be arriving any minute now!”

you helped the girls with their suite cases, bright lights coming up the icy driveway. it had began to snow slightly, and was thankful you all made it before the actual storm.

3 boys got out of the SUV. jake, sunghoon, and jay.

you gasped, nearly hyperventilating. “yuna, i will kill you!” you said through gritted teeth, and both girls just giggled. “why didn’t you tell me it was them three? specially, jay!”

“because if i told you he was coming, you would’ve backed out!” yuna sighed.

“you’ve had a crush on him since high school. it’s been three years and we are now third years in college. it’s time to make a move.”

“and lose that damn virginity!”

you scoffed, slapping yuna’s arm, “not so loud, would you?”

yuna just laughed as the three boys came up the driveway with their own suitcases or duffles.

“hi ladies.” jake smiled.

“hi jake, jay, and sunghoon!” yuna smiled eagerly, you and sully waving.

all three boys greeted you by name and sully along with yuna.

“i’m glad you came!” jake said to you.

jay added with a chuckle, “when yuna said you were coming, we almost didn’t believe it.”

“oh yeah, well, i didn’t have a choice really.” you mumbled.

“it’s getting cold and my ass is freezing! let’s get inside. there’s a fireplace, how romantic!” yuna clapped and you all followed her up the steps, careful not to fall.

well, you tried to be careful, but ended up stepping on the snow wrong, and almost twisted your ankle.

jay caught you, “careful there.”

“oh, um thanks.”

yuna unlocked the door, you all rushing in to the warmth of the cabin airbnb. you all awed in delight with how beautiful it was.

“how many bedrooms does this place have?” sunghoon asked dropping his duffle.

jay and jake immediately went to the wood burning fireplace to add the already prepared, chopped wood.

“3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms.” yuna replied.

“three boys, three girls,” jay tapped his chin, “how are we going to divide it?”

“i vote jay sleeps alone. he sleeps with his eyes open sometimes.” jake shivered at the thought.

you and the other girls laughed. jay shrugged, not complaining to have a bedroom to himself.

“ok so jay in one of the master—,”

“why does he get the master?” sunghoon objected.

“because you and jake are getting the room with the bunk beds!” yuna laughed.

“okay, we can deal with that!” jake said excitedly, sunghoon chuckling.

children.

“the girls and i will share the other master bedroom.”

“won’t it be crowded for you three?” jay asked. “i can sleep on the couch—,”

“absolutely no way!” yuna interrupted. “we’ll be fine. we’re used to sharing small beds.”

jake looked at all you girls with a flirty expression.

“get your head out of the gutter, sim!” sully screeched.

jake laughed. “let’s just unpack and get ready for dinner.”

about an hour and a half later, you all had changed into comfy clothes, and made 3 frozen pizzas in the oven.

3 bottles of alcohol open—whiskey, wine, and tequila along with some seltzer cans and beers.

“let’s play never have i ever!” yuna offered.

you groaned. “that juvenile game?”

“and you have a better idea?” yuna narrowed her eyes at you, but you shook your head with a sigh. “no.”

“it’s settled then!” yuna clapped.

she was so happy and eager this trip.

jay watched you closely. he has of course noticed you around like the other guys have, noting how pretty you are, but you stayed much to yourself.

“i’ll start,” yuna tapped her chin in thinking, “mhm, never have i ever made out with a stranger!”

all three boys and sully took a drink.

jake looked at you and yuna, “really? neither of you?”

yuna and you both shook your head no.

“my turn!” sully said, “never have i ever, got a piercing other than in my ear!”

you and yuna drank to that. the boys raised their eyebrows at the both of you.

“matching belly button piercings.” yuna leaned against you.

“and it hurt like a bitch too!” you sighed.

“you still have it?” jake asked.

“i don’t, but she does.” yuna said. “my mom threw a fit!”

“can we see it?” sunghoon asked.

you shrugged, standing up showing off your belly piercing.

“nice!” jay nodded. “can i go?”

“sure!” yuna agreed.

“never have i ever had sex with a girl other than in a bedroom.”

“LAME!” both sunghoon and jake laughed. they took sips of their drinks.

“should’ve phrased that a bit differently jay.” sully laughed.

“fine, never have i ever had sex with someone else other than in a bedroom.” jay rolled his eyes.

yuna and sully took a drink, leaving you and jay out.

“yall are lame!”

“no surprise she’s not drinking.” yuna laughed.

“what?” jake asked and you slapped yuna’s arm once again, shaking your head.

“what’s the wildest place you had sex?” yuna asked.

“just a car at a park.” sully answered.

jake smirked, “dressing room.”

“hotel balcony.” sunghoon answered.

“hot tub.” yuna was the last to reply. “and sunghoon, we’ll revisit that balcony answer later.”

“we both know the last two who didn’t drink probably have only ever fucked in a bed.” jake joked.

“nothing wrong with that.” jay defended.

you kept your lips closed. jay looked at you as you stayed quiet not backing him up.

“don’t you agree?”

“oh, uh, yeah—um, i guess.” you shrugged, lacking the confidence in your answer.

“what do you mean, you guess?” jake teased. “don’t tell me—,”

“can we move on, please!” you rushed out. “someone say something that’ll make me drink!”

“never have i ever had a crush on someone in this room.” yuna smirked looking right at you.

damnit. you took more than enough sips.

each of the boys took a sip, you the only girl. “what, you both never found them attractive?” you stared at yuna and sully shocked. “or me?” you teased.

“so what you’re saying is you find one of us attractive?” jake grinned.

you looked wide eyed between the three boys. “i don’t like this game, let’s play something else.” you suggested nervously, gulping your drink, emptying the cup.

jay was wondering, who did you have a crush on in this room? he knew sunghoon had a small crush on sully, jake having a crush on yuna, sully, and even you at one point.

yuna pulled out uno cards.

“oh thank goodness, a normal game!”

“no way! we’re using this to play truth or dare!”

you closed your eyes taking a deep breath. “oh great.” you mumbled.

“let me explain.” yuna began, shuffling the cards. “if you draw a red or blue card, it’s a dare. if you draw green or yellow, truth. wildcard, you choose truth or dare, if you get any of the draw two or fours, then you pick a truth or dare and give it to someone.”

“what if we run out of questions to ask?” sunghoon brought up.

“ya, that’s what google is for! sadly i left my sister’s game. you know the one with explicit content and questions.”

“ryunjin is probably hiding it from you.” sully scoffed, sipping her drink.

“whatever, let’s play!” yuna pouted.

after another twenty minutes of truth or dare, yuna was tired of the boring stuff. you still weren’t flirting or making a move on jay. jake was getting annoying. sully was flirting with sunghoon, who claims so much she doesn’t have a crush on.

“next, you pick.” yuna looked at you with a bored expression.

you picked out of the deck—red.

yuna smiled wickedly, “let me ask you the dare.”

you swallowed nervously. so far, any cards you picked that were dares, the group went easy on you. but you could tell yuna was bored and on a mission.

“yuna—,”

“out of this group of boys, who’d you pick to have sex with?”

all three of the boys choked on their beers. “yuna, ya!” jay scolded.

“a little warning would be nice!” jake added wiping his chin.

your face felt hot. “oh, uh, yu—i don’t think,” you stuttered out looking between the three boys and yuna and sully.

“just pick one! not that hard!” sully smiled.

then yuna put you on blast. she rolled her eyes, “fuck this! who out of the three boys would you chose to take your virginity?”

you froze in place. so did sully. and so did each of the boys.

“yuna.” sully said through a warning tone. she can’t believe yuna outed you like that.

you swallowed, fighting off tears. it wasn’t like you were ashamed or embarrassed to be a virgin, but it’s not something you’d really want to advertise, especially in front of your crush.

you told yuna with your crush being jay, you wouldn’t mind he be the one to take your virginity. you knew he was a nice guy.

but you didn’t know if he had sex with virgins. or even would be interested in you that way.

“i need to pee.” you quickly stood up, running to the bathroom down the hall.

“not cool yuna!” sully snapped.

yuna shrugged. “i was sick of her beating around the bush. if i didn’t do anything she sure wouldn’t have.”

“well you didn’t have to out her like that.” sully pushed yuna’s shoulder. “go apologize, now.”

yuna looked at the boys who were quiet and felt awkward.

“maybe we should end the night. we have 2 more nights here to enjoy it.” sunghoon said standing up with a stretch.

the boys turned in for the night, and the girls went to the bedroom. yuna knocked softly on the bathroom door hearing you sob quietly.

“i’m really sorry.” yuna apologized.

you knew you would soon forgive her. yuna wasn’t a bad person, she just had a strong extroverted personality compared to you. sometimes yuna forgot you weren’t all about putting your business out there or being forward.

you soon came out the bathroom, giving your friend a hug, sully joining in.

“i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just,” yuna sighed, “i saw you weren’t going to make a move! at least now jay is intrigued.”

you looked at yuna like she had two heads. “how do you know that?”

“you’re a virgin, with a crush on one of the boys, and never answered that question or who you would choose to take your virginity.” yuna explained. “jay is romantic and polite, but he’s still a man.”

sully snapped her fingers. “i did see him sneaking glances at you.” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“no need to make me feel better.”

“we’re telling the truth!” yuna said. “trust me on this.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

around 2 am, you awoke freezing cold. of course you slept on the end, yuna and sully hogging the covers.

you got up quietly, walking towards the kitchen down the hall. you quickly made a cup of hot chocolate. while doing so, you noticed from outside, the snow falling heavily from the sky.

walking to the window, you stared up at the sky in awe at the gorgeous sight.

“pretty outside, huh?”

a voice startled you. turning around, you noticed it was jay, dressed in his pajamas.

you nodded to his question. “yeah, very pretty.”

he came up beside you, you turned back around to look out the window with him. “good thing we brought enough food to last us a couple days.”

“yeah.” you agreed softly. a cold chill ran over you, causing you to shiver.

“cold?”

you nodded. “sully and yuna are cover hoggers.” you laughed.

“i see you’re making hot chocolate. mind making me a cup? i’ll put more wood in the fireplace.”

you nodded walking back to the kitchen. jay put more firewood in the fireplace to get it warmed up, grabbing the extra blankets and pillows from the couch and setting them comfortably on the floor.

you brought jay a cup of hot chocolate, handing it to him, then sat down next to him, immediately enjoying the heat of the fireplace.

you both sat in quiet, enjoying the crackle of the fire, the quiet snow falling outside.

jay sighed deeply. “i, uh,”

you looked over at him, shocked he seemed nervous. you always thought he was cool and confident. the glow of the fire looked good against his honey skin, as his hands wrapped tightly around his cup.

“mhm?” you tilted your head, sipping the hot chocolate.

jay laughed nervously. “please don’t be offended.” he looked at you.

“i won’t.” you stated.

“i just—are you really a virgin?”

you sighed and nodded. “that i am.” you chuckled. “yuna didn’t lie.”

jay stayed quiet for a moment, calculating his next move. he didn’t want to scare you off or come off too strong.

“why?” you asked instead.

“mhm?” jay hummed, raising his eyebrow, sipping his hot chocolate.

“why did you ask if i was really a virgin?” you whispered out.

could yuna and sully be right?

jay scratched his eyebrow, then the back of his head. “it’s just, i don’t like questions left unanswered.”

“oh don’t i know it!” you chuckled. “remember senior year in high school? mr. youngin for once didn’t have the answer to a complex question and it drove you crazy?”

jay laughed remembering. “yeah.” he cleared his throat. “so i was wondering, um, actually, jake, sunghoon, and i were all wondering,”

you liked this side of jay, a stuttering mess. you bit your lower lip, fighting back a chuckle of amusement.

jay breathed through his nose, cursing himself for acting like such a loser right now. “so um, the first question, who in the room did you or do you have a crush on? and, uh, secondly, who would you choose to you know?”

you laughed, “no, i don’t know.”

where did this string of confidence come from? was it because jay seemed less intimidating than he does in the classroom? in an academic setting?

jay looked up at the ceiling, then back down to you. “who do you have a crush on and who do you want to take your virginity?” jay mumbled out quickly. “and please answer. please don’t leave me hanging.”

“why jay?” you asked seriously. “would you be disappointed if i said jake or sunghoon?”

“no, not disappointed. just, upset and jealous.”

you set your mug down next to you, grabbing jay’s chin between your thumb and index finger, making him look at you.

“it’s you dummy.” you laughed and kissed his lips softly, you both tasting like chocolate.

when you pulled away, jay almost looked like a giddy teenage boy. “me?” he whispered and you nodded.

“since second year of high school.” you confessed. “i’ve had a crush on you since then, jay.”

jay smiled confessing his own feelings. he hasn’t liked you as long as you’ve liked him, but he’s had a crush on you for the past two years, always afraid to make a move.

“yuna would punch us both.” you poked fun at.

jay had set aside his mug as well, leaning in to kiss your lips again. “do you want me to?” he asked against your lips.

“here? now?” you leaned away briefly, to look around the living room.

“i mean yeah. at least it’d be somewhere other than a bedroom.” he joked, but then cleared his throat, “but if you want to, we can go to my room.”

you’re starting to think yuna set this up in beginning—especially jay getting his own room.

“well it is kind of romantic to get my cherry popped by a fireplace.” you smiled.

jay smiled too, and leaned back in to kiss you softly. “i’ll be gentle, okay?”

you nodded against his lips, as he began to ease you down on the blankets that covered the floor. jay was careful to not bare all his weight on you, as his right hand ran up and down lengths of your side, goosebumps riding against your skin.

you then got shy. “uh don’t worry about going down on me or anything.”

jay looked at you like you’ve lost your mind. “i gotta get you turned on and wet for me.” he caressed your cheek.

you smiled shyly, “no need to worry about that. honestly been that way since you walked in the room.”

jay chuckled, “if you don’t want me to, i won’t, but i don’t mind it at all.”

“maybe another time? i—i just want my first time to be over. then you can take it slow if you want me a second time.”

“if? oh cherry, i will definitely want you a second time and more.” jay kissed roughly against your lips, appalled you’d even say something like that.

jay began to tuck his hand in your pajama bottoms and pull those, along with your underwear, down your legs as far as possible without breaking the kiss, then he did the same to his own bottoms.

“are you okay with no full nudity? still rather not have our friends get a full show.”

you nodded with a laugh. “yeah. let’s just be horny impatient teenagers.”

“i can do that. i—don’t have condoms, but i know jake does—,”

“absolutely do not wake him up!” you whispered. “how’s your pull out game?”

“well i’ve always used a condom—,”

“well tonight we can test it, if you’re okay with that?” you asked and jay nodded.

“yeah.” he answered softly. “just let me know when to stop if it hurts too much, okay?”

jay looked in your eyes, completely serious. you verbally told him you understood.

resting his forehead against yours, heavy breathing between you two, your face skewed, mouth slowly opening as jay push forward.

his dick meeting the tightness and resistance of you. you let out quiet gasps, as he slowly pushed in his tip, then inch by inch.

jay wasn’t lengthy, but he was thick.

your eyes snapped shut, your hands gripping jays shoulders, thankfully his skin protected by his shirt. a low moan of pain escaped your lips, mixed with a gasp as jay finished settling inside you.

he brought his lips down to meet yours for a rough, passionate kiss, almost as if he never wanted to stop kissing you.

jay used his tongue to distract you from your lower half and the stinging of it. he was still, dick settled into your cunt, which was pooling with wetness around him.

you didn’t even know you could get that wet.

just making out, while nestled inside you, when he felt you were distracted enough, jay pulled back slowly to push back even slower.

by accident you bit his lip. “fuck.” your head leaned back against the blanket, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

jay grabbed a pillow to place under your lower back for better leverage and for you to be more comfortable.

he sat up on his knees, your legs resting apart, enough for jay to rest in between them.

he pulled back out and began a slow thrusting pace, watching your facial expressions for any sign of extreme discomfort.

for the most part, you let out low pitched moans, and bit your lip. jays own mouth began to let out a few moans of his own, making sure to be quiet enough that only you could hear him.

other than the cackle of the fireplace and quiet sounds from you two, anytime jay pushed deeply into, your wet cunt made noise against his dick, it slicking down your behind, his balls slapping against your skin.

thankfully your friends were heavy sleepers for the most part.

jay leaned down for a different angle, his forearms resting on each side of your head, as his thrusts picked up in pace, the stinging pain still in place, but mixed with pleasure.

“fa-faster.” you grumbled against jays lips, and with no protest or hesitation, jay picked up this pace of his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping getting louder, but you both ignored it.

your friends being able to potentially hear be damned. they’re always in your sex lives anyway.

jay thought you felt heavenly, and was for sure hoping for a second time, third time, as many times as he could, with you. he would definitely love to explore his sexual interests with you in different places.

he never had any interest in having sex with someone in someplace other than a bed, but with you, he can imagine taking you against the kitchen counter, a couch, in his car, against a fucking desk in an empty classroom.

the thought only excites him more, and when he heard the squelch of your cunt, he was done for.

“shit, im gonna come.” jay whispered out, leaning his hand down between the both of you to stimulate your clit.

you’ve never experienced an orgasm in your life, so you had no idea what they felt like. all you could feel was your bottom half starting to become overly sensitive, your legs shaking, and wanting jay to stop because you felt like crying.

“jay—it all feels like too much.” you cried against his shoulder. “i—i can’t take anymore, please.”

jay with a proud smile, kissed your forehead, quickly pulling out, lifting your shirt up to come on your stomach. in the belly piercing he finds so damn attractive. his come perfectly landed there, dripping down to meet your cunt.

“sorry—should’ve asked where you wanted me to come.” jay sighed in content and out of breath.

you laughed out of breath yourself. “s’fine.”

jay took off your bottoms completely, but pulled his up. he covered you with the extra blanket.

“mhm, wanna take a bath or shower?”

“why? want me in there too?” you joked.

“of course. but you’ll start to ache soon, shower sex can wait for now.”

you nodded tiredly. “can i sleep with you?” you yawned.

“of course cherry.”

“mhm, cherry?”

“my new nickname for you.” jay kissed your cheek.

thank you yuna!

[ssentimentals]

hello! could you maybe do soft promt 23 with mingyu? these have been so much fun to read <3333

hello! aw i'm glad you're enjoying my drabbles! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'you are my new pillow.'

'can this just be a lazy night in?' mingyu wonders loudly, taking off his jacket as he enters your room. 'i know we promised to go to the friends but-' he stops at the sight of you fluffing the pillows, already in your pjs, grinning at him. 'oooh, i love you baby. you got everything ready?'

you nod, proudly showing him your laptop with netflix account opened. 'i already chose a movie and snacks are in the kitchen, can you grab them for us?' mingyu walks over to you, hugging you tight. 'i knew you'd decide to lie in tonight after you messaged him how tired you are.'

'it was a horrible day,' mingyu sighs but then perks up, kissing you soundly. 'but it's about to become amazing. let me change and i'll go grab us snacks, yeah?'

mingyu changes and rushes to and from the kitchen in a record speed, not wanting to waste any more time to not being in the bed with you. your sweet laughter makes him smile and he comfortably lays on the bed, pulling you into his arms depiste your protests. 'i can't pick a movie when you're holding both of my arms,' you whine, giggling at small kisses he peppers your face with. 'mingyu!'

'quick-quick,' he relents, waiting eagerly for you to set everything up and then instantly gathering you back to his arms. he moves, changes your positions until he's laying lower and sighs in satisfaction once he places his head on your chest. 'finally. you're my new pillow.'

'what an honor,' you chuckle, automatically running your fingers through his hair, making him wiggle in joy. 'don't fall asleep on me.'

'no promises.' mingyu sings out, all cozy and cuddled up. when movie starts, he buries himself deeper into you, breathing your scent in. 'perfect night.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[gojodickbig]

Can I request a smut fic where Toji’s hit job in Europe got extended from 4 days to 4 months. So when he finally gets home, y/n is desperately all over him because she missed him terribly and she’s so insatiable that he can barely keep up and tells her to slow down during the most mind numbing sex they’ve ever had. Like I want her crying and clinging to him while he says the sweetest things to her catering her praise kink about how his pretty wife was so patient and he apologizes for leaving home so long 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Home Again. | Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader.

warnings: explicit sexual content!!!, fluff, angst (due to separation), consent (implied). pet names (doll, mama, sweetheart).

A/N: i wrote this in a rush, but i hope you like it🫰🏻🫰🏻have fun reading💘💘

also reblogs are appreciated! :)

wc: 2,8K

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

The sound of the front door unlocking made your heart lurch in your chest. You sat up from the couch, and when Toji finally stepped through the door, you felt your breath catch. He looked tired—his hair slightly mussed, a faint scruff darkening his jaw—but the moment his eyes met yours, his expression softened.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and warm, the corner of his lips quirking into a small smile. He dropped his duffel bag by the door, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

You didn’t hesitate. You were in his arms before he could take another step, your face pressed into his chest, breathing him in—his scent, the faint musk of sweat and travel, everything you’d missed about him.

“You’re here,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you clung to him. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. His lips brushed the top of your head, lingering there. “God, I missed you, baby.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. “You look tired,” you said softly.

Toji chuckled, his voice low and rough. “It’s been a long trip. But I’m home now.” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Four months, Toji,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your fingers curled into his shirt, clinging to him like you were afraid he might vanish if you let go. “You were supposed to be back in four days.”

Toji sighed, his expression softening, guilt flickering in his green eyes. His large hands ran up and down your back in soothing strokes. “I know, mama. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave you that long, but things got… complicated.”

You didn’t care about apologies—not right now. “I need you, Toji, please,” you whispered, your voice a desperate plea as you tugged him toward the bedroom.

“You’ve got me,” he promised, his lips brushing against your temple.

The second he sat on the edge of the bed, you climbed onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. Toji hissed as you ground against him, your hands tugging at the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he said softly, catching your hands in his. His lips quirked into a slight smirk, though his voice carried the rough edge of desire. “You’re acting like you’re starving.”

“I am,” you shot back, dragging his shirt open and running your hands over his chest. “Four months, Toji. Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you? How much I’ve needed this?”

Toji’s breath hitched as your lips latched onto his neck, your teeth grazing his skin. “You’re gonna kill me, woman,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as you ground down on him again.

You reached between him, palming him through his pants, feeling the hard length of him straining against the fabric. “You’re a big man, you can handle it,” you teased, though your own voice wavered with desperation.

“Barely,” he muttered, his hands tightening on you. “You’re so damn impatient.”

You pulled back to meet his gaze, your eyes fierce and glassy with need. “Four months is a long fucking time, Toji,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m not slowing down.”

As your body moved over him, his hands gripped your arms softly, the tension of his restraint turning into a gentle pull, encouraging you to take the lead. You paused for a moment, your lips brushing against his ear as you breathed out, “I want to make you feel so good.”

He groaned softly, a low, appreciative sound, his grip tightening slightly around your waist. “You always do,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “But go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”

You moved forward on your knees, twisting around to land your hands on his pants, already undoing the button and zipper. You came face-to-face with his throbbing cock. Looking up at him, you innocently took hold of his member with both hands. You licked your lips, ready to take him into your mouth. Just as his tip entered between your lips, Toji grabbed your hair. Taking him in your mouth, you sucked on his tip, already dripping with precum. He hissed in pleasure. You lowered your head slowly, squeezing his balls with one hand while taking him fully in your mouth. You tried to push yourself further. Toji moaned as your throat constricted around his tip, but he restrained himself, taking a bunch of your hair in his hand again. You looked up at him, drool dribbling down your open mouth, tears welling in your eyes. Toji’s grip on your hair tightened, guiding your head away from his cock.

"My turn now, doll,” he rasped.

When he finally had you pinned beneath him, your clothes scattered across the floor, his voice was low when he spoke, the huskiness making your breath catch.

"You’re so good to me,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before his lips found their way to your neck, leaving a soft trail of kisses. “I’ve been thinking about this, about you, every damn day.”

The way he said it made you shiver, your chest tightening with the same need. You reached for him again, but this time, he took the initiative. Pushing you into the softness of the pillows, his lips never leaving your skin as he moved lower.

Toji’s hands trembled slightly as they rested on your thighs. He kissed his way down your body, every inch of you a reminder of how much he’d missed you and your body.

“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval as his fingers slid through your slick folds. “All for me, huh?”

You nodded, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Only for you.”

Toji grinned, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before slipping a finger inside you. You moaned, your hands clutching at the sheets as he worked you open, his finger curling against the spot that had you writhing.

“More, more Toji, please.” you whimpered, your hips lifting to meet his hand.

"Greedy girl,” he muttered, though he obliged, adding a second finger. “So tight, baby. Gotta loosen you up for me.”

Your head fell back against the mattress, your cries echoing in the room as he pumped his fingers in and out, his thumb brushing over your clit in lazy circles.

“Fuck, Toji,” you gasped, your body trembling beneath him. “I can’t—I need—”

“I know what you need,” he said, pulling his fingers out and dragging them over your lips. “Open up, sweetheart.”

You obeyed, your lips parting as he slid his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them eagerly, your tongue swirling around the digits as his cock throbbed against your thigh.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Missed this mouth, too.”

When he finally lined his cock to your entrance and pushed into you, your body arched off the bed, your nails digging into his back. He groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he stretched you inch by inch.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You whimpered, your legs wrapping around his waist as you clung to him. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling. “Please, Toji, don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “Missed you so fucking much, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

He started to move, slow and deep, his hips rolling into you with a rhythm that had you gasping. Your nails raked down his back as tears spilled from your eyes, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

“Toji,” you sobbed, your voice breaking.

“Shh, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your tear-streaked cheeks. “I’ve got you. You’re so good for me. You waited four fucking months, my good girl.”

You choked out, your voice trembling with raw emotion, “I’ll always wait for you, Toji.”

His praises only made you cry harder, your body trembling beneath him. “I needed this,” you choked out. “I needed you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice rough but tender. “I’m here now. I’m here, and I’m not fucking leaving.”

He shifted, his hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit, his movements coaxing louder moans from you. “Come for me, pretty girl,” he urged, his voice soft but commanding. “Show me how much you missed me.”

Your body obeyed, your release crashing over you as you sobbed his name, your walls clenching tightly around him. Toji groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his warmth spilling inside you.

He held you close, his large hands trailing softly over your back as your breaths evened out.

“You’re not allowed to be gone that long ever again,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice still hoarse.

Toji chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Rest now, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp. “We’ve got time. I’m not going anywhere, i promise."

His fingers brushed through your hair one last time, the weight of the time spent apart and the relief of being close again settling between you.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He smiled softly, feeling the words settle in his chest. “I love you too, mama, more than anything.”

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[pandorascripts]

Familiar By Thy Side pt 2

super excited to share part two with all of you!! sorry it’s been a bit since I updated, my school clubs are starting up and I’ve been figuring out all my stuff as I go.

relationships: (drumroll) Agathario/Reader!

lots of yall said it should be agathario/reader, so I’m delivering! thank you for all the feedback :)

warnings: uhhh, I don’t think there’s any, but who knows.

The next time you’re able to remember current events, you’re laid down on a dock, in nothing but your wet undergarments. With a loud gasp, you shoot up, chest rapidly rising and falling. Everything is overwhelming, the noise of the lake, the splashing and laughter, the bristle of trees’ leaves, the creaking of the dock — it’s too much, everything is too much. You can’t recognize anything, your whereabouts completely unknown as the cold sinks into your achy bones and shaky fingers. 

Finally, you see someone just barely familiar. Nicholas, laughing and splashing his Mother just twenty feet off to your side in the shallow waters. With a hard breath, you look around and try to focus on regaining your senses. Previously dirty skin is shining clean again, your hands brushing over it in confusion. Agatha had bathed you? The thought of being unconscious and vulnerable makes your spine shiver, gaze hardening at Agatha. The moment you fully look at her, really recognize her, you have such a hard time hating her. The smile plastered on her raw face, laughter so hard she’s forced to wheeze and turn her back from her boy, she looks human to you for the first time in, well, however long you’ve been with them. 

Nicky is the first to notice you, his smile still wide as he waves to you. Agatha snaps her head to your direction, icy blue eyes running along your posture for a good read. There’s a subconscious relent in Agatha when she realizes how scared you are right now. There’s so much familiarity in that showcase of fear for her, that she’s slightly taken aback by the memories of nights when she was younger and afraid. A low growl dies down into a clearing of her throat, Agatha turning away. 

“Nicholas, you’ll get frozen if we’re here any longer,” she states, but Nicky knows it’s a demand. 

He pouts but doesn’t argue with his mom, waddling out of the water that Agatha easily cruises through. Her outfit matches yours — nothing but undergarments, and it’s clear that they had been playing in the water for quite some time. A weird thought festers in your mind, happy that despite being apathetic to everything, Agatha knows that her son is but a boy and deserves to have fun. 

By the time Agatha and Nicholas are fully dressed in their slightly damp clothes — ones you haven’t seen before, so you realize they must’ve been stolen during your lights-out phase — the embarrassment settles in. You feel even more vulnerable now, the only one absolutely indecent enough for viewing. Agatha lets Nicholas head back to their makeshift camp just some odd feet out, her journey steering to open a medium-sized leather pouch, and take out some clothes. Silently, Agatha walks down the doc to toss them in your lap. 

“What did you do to me?” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, more so questioning how she managed to subdue you so easily. 

“Bathed you. Nothing more nothing less.” 

The sharpness of her tone makes you realize she believes you to be questioning something else, a small flinch on your face. 

“Not that, that I understand well. The time I was awake, we were fighting, and then…” 

“Then I came to the smart conclusion you were too shambled to make such a journey and made it so you did not kill Nicky, nor I,” she answers, still on the defensive. 

You don’t argue back with her. Neither do you even try to dry off with anything, immediately trying to put on your clothes. 

“Wait.”

You stop at her words, convinced it was her magick rather than your obedience. “What?” 

Agatha walks off the dock, leaving you confused on whether or not you should continue. She turns her back to you again a couple seconds later, heading down the platform before tossing you a damp rag. 

“To dry. These clothes will be yours next few days, nothing wet against your skin will be comfortable enough for our journey. We leave tonight again.” 

You wet your lips, holding the rag before looking up at Agatha. Seeing her this close, it’s no wonder she was able to lure in many with a beguiling feeling of comfort. Agatha is motherly in many of her actions, even when she’s killing witches, surprisingly enough. Motherly or not completely monstrously, you’re not sure. 

“Thank you, Agatha,” you say softly, her name foreign on your tongue. 

“Make haste, the sun will set in a few hours time.” 

A simple nod from you has Agatha walking over to her son, your hands working to dry off your body with the rag. It’s slightly rugged, a little ripped and the edges are frayed. Although, you can’t be too picky, you suppose. Agatha almost gave you nothing. You’re not sure why she didn’t, why she let you dry off. It truly wouldn’t have been that uncomfortable for you, walking all that distance would’ve heated your body up and in turn the clothes would’ve probably helped cool you down. You turn around on the dock to run the rag over your chest, Agatha’s mean eyes running along your back. 

In her own mind, Agatha is beating herself up over giving you that rag. Why did she care if you were comfortable? If anything, Agatha only wants you to be uncomfortable around her, to be scared around her. It’s much easier that way, for you to be terrorized into obedience. She’s not sure, but maybe after being in your mind during the week in Salem she saw one too many correlations between you and Her. Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to believe that after six years clean she’s genuinely letting herself feel the things she long ago buried about Rio. The name sends shivers down her spine, eyes running to find her boy. He’s nestled against a tree, fixing his hair into a braid. The facial expression she finds on him is way too similar to Rio’s mouth open in concentration, nose tilted up. Agatha comes to the realization that she can never get away from the sound of the woman that loves her, and it haunts her. Rio’s voice in the mornings, her small touch throughout the day, the sweet laugh she let out at Agatha’s off-colored jokes, everything that was and is Rio stays within Agatha. Her eyes fall down to her hands, balling them up tightly before she lets go of them with a sigh. 

You walk down the dock, fully dressed and mainly dry. Wet against your neck is your hair, but you simply scrunch it up and keep it behind your shoulders. Agatha is moving Nicky up, sitting behind him as she starts softly speaking to him and doing his hair for him. The braid wasn’t the best, so Agatha simply undoes it and starts over. He doesn’t seme to mind, lost in the conversation as he drags a stick through the dirt to spell out his name. The scene is a little too vulnerable and familial for you to want to engage in, even if you’re more calm than when you first woke. There’s some slight gratitude you feel for Agatha, considering that she didn’t completely undress you when bathing you. Despite the slight awkward dampness of the materials against your skin, it’s something to be thankful for. 

You’re too caught up in trying to figure out everything that happened — stubbornly refusing to ask Agatha — that you don’t notice her sit next to you. Of course, there’s still a couple feet of distance from the two of you, but you’re unsure why she wouldn’t sit by Nicholas. Until you realize he’s not here. 

“Where is the boy?” you ask, your body more unsettled without him. This makes no sense, and you know it, but you swear Agatha is almost human around him. Despite that she’s killed in front of the boy, openly explained that she kills witches to him, and still speaks down to you around him, it just feels safer when he’s around. 

“Off to harvest some berries past that brush,” she replies, and you’re almost surprised she actually does. 

You just stay quiet, a slight nod of your head as your eyes lock on the fire. 

“Salem was just fine, in case you were wondering,” mumbles Agatha, sniffling after as if to cover up everything she just said. 

“Have they still been killling witches?” 

There’s a small laugh from Agatha, her head shaking slightly. “Oh, please, we were much too clever to be killed during then. Those women were married to the worst of the worst, and killed simply so their husband could marry younger or justify his continuous infidelity.” 

“We?” you ask, head turning to stare at Agatha. You weren’t aware that she was living in Salem during those times, but then again, you’re not sure how old Agatha actually is. “Yes, we. Womanhood came to me after spending my youth in that town. I left soon after.” Agatha’s tone at the end, her licking her lips and turning her head too, tells you that there’s something there — a story, no doubt, but you don’t question. 

“Must have been quite fearful, I’d imagine.” 

“They couldn’t catch us, dear, only a few were ever caught.” 

The fire is crackling, your hands reaching out to warm up over the flames. Agatha watches, the way your hair falls off your shoulder and over, her eyes running along your clothes. You’re maybe in your early twenties, or older - it’s hard to tell with witches. Her body is way to relaxed with you so near, but she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because she’s sure you’re magic isn’t as strong or because she’s sure you’re not skilled at all. Either way, Agatha doesn’t like it. 

You don’t react to the word “dear” slipping from her mouth, certain its’ just another way to degrade you and poke fun. It doesn’t bother you. You don’t let it. 

“Man has never been smart, have they?’ you chuckle out, flashing her a small smile. 

Agatha responds with a shake of her head, pursing her lips. “Not much, no.” 

Silence absorbs the both of you for a couple minutes, up until Nicholas stumbles through the brush. He’s brushing off some burs with a distasteful look. 

“They’re so sharp,” he mumbles, very displeased with his clothes being covered in spikey balls. There’s a small smile from you, your hand lifting up to drop down. Just as the action is completed, all the burs fall from his clothes, his head snapping up to look at his mother. 

“Thank you, mama.” “Don’t look at me, boy, that had nothing to do with me,” she chuckles slightly. “Would’ve been quite entertaining watching you flounder about a bit longer.” 

Nicholas laughs slightly at his mom’s teasing, his eyes turning to you. “You then? Thank you.” 

Turning back to the fire, you remain quiet as Agatha and her son converse together, the sun starting to fall. You still aren’t clear how long had passed since you last remember anything, but you’re too nervous to talk. Wringing out your hands, glaring at the fire only to occasionally look at the duo before you, you can’t find a good enough time to interject. 

There’s a small huff from Agatha, her annoyed look turning to face you. “You’re loud.” 

“Excuse me?” you ask out, a little bewildered at her statement.

“Your mind that is, you’re insufferable. What is it you need?”

Closing your gaping mouth, you blink a bunch before relenting. “How long was I — how long did you have control over me?” 

Agatha wets her lips, turning back to the fire. “Maybe around eight days, including a portion of today.” 

Eight days. It had been eight whole days. You swallow thickly, looking down to stare at the dirt below. She had been in your mind, controlling you, full access to everything for eight whole days. You feel perturbed at this information, wetting your lips down as you struggle to come to terms with that. What had she done in there? What had she seen? What had she messed up? What had she learned? It feels like a violation to you, your head turned away from her. 

Apathetic to your discomfort, Agatha goes back to talking with Nicky about his day and what he found in the forest. 

The next few days are spent silently for you, simply walking alongside Agatha. You wish you could’ve been behind her, away from her, but she insisted you go next to her to negate any chance of betrayal from you. Far too tired to argue and far too worried she’d overwhelm your mind again, you just gave in. During this journey, you didn’t car to ask her where you all were going, you just walked. And walked. And walked. 

The group of you walked for days until reaching a newly-named settlement called Philadelphia, which had started booming since being labeled. Weirdly enough, Agatha was able to swindle an older man into letting the three of you crash, despite having no way of paying him back and being covered in grime. You watched the way she did it, hand on his bicep, straightening out his lapels, and showering him with praise. Alongside sickening you, you were intrigued. Agatha was a sight to behold, you were well aware of her beauty, but you and Nicholas being included on the deal? He was but a boy, and you weren’t ever the most attractive in your eyes, so how is it that he let all of you stay? 

Being rushed into his home by Agatha’s hand on your back made you forget your questions, slugging into the room he offered and laying down on a couch in the corner. There were two beds, one for Nicholas and one for Agatha, so you assumed you’d be cramped up here for however long the stay lasted. 

You were partially right. Agatha dumped her small amount of belongings onto the second bed, sorted them out into things that needed washing and things that were clean, doing the same with her sons too. Nicky sat on the first bed, shoes neatly tucked below as he took off his coat and fixed the collar of his shirt. 

Agatha grouped up all of the clothes, put them into a bag, and handed Nicky two coins and the pouch. “Round down to the market, Nicky. Find a woman willing to launder our clothes and pay her well for her troubles.” 

He gave his mom a look, a little shocked he was allowed to go out on his own, but he nodded his head and listened. Just as he slid off the bed, Agatha held his shoulder and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Be quick, be kind, and use any extra to get yourself something you like.” 

Nicholas smiled widely at his mom, nodding his head before sprinting out when he was dismissed. Agatha started to fold the cleaner clothes, nestling them in the dresser nicely. 

“How did you manage to convince that man?” you ask softly, sitting up on the couch. 

Agatha turns her head to look at you, fixing her hair by tucking it just under her ear. “I’m persuasive.” 

“There was more than that, d’you’re magick permit you to do so?” 

Her lips are pursed as you push further, a small sneer on her face. “It is nothing of your concern, be grateful you’ve a placed to rest that isn’t dirt, girl.” 

Agatha is cruel in her words, so you settle for questioning when she’s in a much better mood. Your questions are only making her feel more at odds with herself, hating the way those powers only work on men. After all, Agatha would much rather have her succubus powers sway women, at least there could be something more she could get out of it. Now she’s to deal with this man trying to hit on her, much more disturbing when she’s with her young boy, but Agatha won’t risk disturbing her magick at work. The last thing she needs is this man kicking them out, or far worse, claiming witch because he was rejected by her. 

Nicky comes back twenty minutes later, hands full with two trinkets, and a wide grin. His eyes are sparkling as he runs up to Agatha. 

“Mama, this nice lady just minutes out from here gave me these — free of charge, she said!” he laughs out, setting them on the bed which previously held clothes.

“Nicky, get them off the bed. Lord knows where they’ve been.” Agatha directs the boy with her hands, moving him out of the way as she does it herself. Whilst holding the items, her face pales and she glares. “Who gave you these, boy?” 

“A woman, Mama, a kind lady.” 

“A kind lady she is not, not if she tried her hardest. Nicky, you stay inside, no matter what.” 

You watch Agatha, seeing her truly unsettled for the first time. The items as you look at them, are slightly odd, but nothing to signify anything perilous. One is a small painting of a flower, some sort of dipladenia if you can remember correctly. The other is a small, festive skull, something from the Spaniards’ holiday Día de los Difuntos, you reckon. There’s no reason Agatha should be this uptight over a simple gift from a townswoman. 

Still, you keep quiet as you fon’t want to upset her any more. Nicholas is slightly distraught, watching his mother behave like this. She looks over at you. 

“Watch the boy and stay here.” 

With that, Agatha turns on her heel, coat lagging behind in her twirl, and slams the bedroom door behind herself. Nicky sits on the bed, his hands playing with the sheets as looks at the items Agatha threw down. The painting of the flower is in his hands, fingertips running over the medium used. There’s a hint of pity you feel for the boy, a small forwn on her your face as you move to sit next to him. The bed creaks. 

“D’you know what flower that is?” you quietly query. He shakes his head. “It’s a diplandenia. A Rio Diplandenia. They take almost no care from others and thrive, very low maintenance from it’s maintainers. Beautiful, no?” 

Nicky nods his head, looking up at you. His eyes are a little glossy. “A Rio?” 

“Yes, boy, a Rio.” 

For some reason, that brings a smile to his face. You’re not sure why, but you just smile back and watch him, your hand moving some of his hair behind his ear. “Whatever reason your mother has for acting like this, I’m sure it will be alright in the end. No need to fret over her antics.” 

Nicky nods his head. “I’m not worried, I know what’s to come.” “Oh, do you now? Forgive me for not taking you as divination warlock,” you laugh slightly, bumping his shoulder. 

Nicholas shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you. “No, no, not like that. I’ve just — I’ve got an ease within me. I know I’m okay, that I will be. I just worry for Mama.” 

“Your mother is quite the strong witch, boy, she will be fine as well as you will.” 

Nicholas looks like he’s on the brink of saying something, but his mother comes through the door, two bags full of what you assume are stolen travel items. 

“Nicholas, these bags, now.” 

Nikcy runs over to his mom, grabbing them and checking their fastenings. You kick his shoes out from under the bed, sliding them over to him. With your back turned to the group, you grab the painting of the flower and slip it under your clothes with the intent to give it to Nicky later. 

In just ten minutes you’re out the door, your eyes just barely catching sight of a gray hand behind a corner wall. You swallow loudly, but remain vocally silent. 

You’re not sure how many days pass when you’re thinking clearly again, too caught up in wondering why Agatha was so uptight to even care. The knowledge that Agatha has full access to your thoughts doesn’t hit you until after all your hard thinking. Agatha hasn’t said anything about it, so you assumed she either blocked you out or was too focused on moving to care. 

[deepestdelulu]

Becoming a better student ₊˚⊹♡

Honestly I´ve never been an A student, but I always try to do my best, and I´m very proud of myself, at least in this area of my life. So here I let you know my tips for studying, not getting bored (at all) and having great marks.

Prepare for your classes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Wake up on time. We don't want to be stressed first thing in the morning, right?

Eat breakfast. So you will be able to better focus in class.

Assigned reading and homework. Make sure you are prepared for your classes!! :)

Review your notes. Going through some of your flashcards before class is really helpful.

Check your bag and charge your devices. Ensure you have everything you need: Books, homework, chargers, pens, water...

In Class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Listen and pay attention. You can save yourself a lot of trouble by simply paying attention, trust me.

Take notes. My favourite note-taking method is the Cornell method; I can make a separate post on that!! <3

"Quick notes." If you struggle with note-taking, try taking quick and messy notes. You can clean them up once you get home!!

Engage. If you have any questions or don't understand something, make sure to ask!! Most teachers really appreciate students who speak up. :) And remember you can always go talk to them privately.

No distractions. Turn off your phone, no chatting, you'll be glad...

After class ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Finish your assignments as soon as you can. Go home, put on a cosy outfit, have a snack, and get working!! <3

Prepare flash cards. A great way of reviewing your notes, too... :)

Update your Study schedule. Write down any assignment and due dates, reading you must do, upcoming tests, etc...

Clean up your notes. Review them, highlight the important parts, and maybe even make them look cute!! :)

Don't avoid topics/Subjects you dislike. I know it is tempting, but you can't avoid them forever, so you might as well get them done.

Structure and routine ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Goals and Priorities. Keep them realistic and manageable.

Time management. Having a set schedule makes studying less overwhelming; it takes some discipline but is so worth it!! <3

Develop a routine. Figure out what works best for you; I prefer studying in the morning or at night.

No "zero days". Even if you can only do a bit, do it!! NO. ZERO. DAYS.

Remember your goals. Dreams will keep you motivated; remind yourself of what you're working for!! <3

Self-care and balance ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Don't forget about your hobbies. You need to do things that make you happy, so make time for those things!!

Maintain a balanced diet. I know chocolates and junk are tempting, especially when you are busy studying all day, but you're not doing yourself any favours.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. 8 Hours. Non-negotiable.

Exercise regularly. Even if it's just a walk, put on some headphones, listen to music, and give yourself a break. <3

Care for your social life. Reach out to your friends, make plans, and keep in touch; a good work-life balance is critical!!

Romanticising ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Study dates. Meet up with your friends at a cosy cafe, discuss your work, and have some fun!! Studying doesn't have to be all serious all the time ;)

Silly Pinterest boards. Visualising your goals will help you find motivation!!

Music to set the mood. Make a playlist to study with, I have lots of them :)

Cosy sweater and candles. The cosy Rory Gilmore vibes haha...

Getting a coffee before class. A little treat before things get serious... Simple pleasures, you know? :)

As always, Please feel free to add your own suggestions and tips in the comments!!

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[focusonkayjay]

between the ride and the roses (3)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Word count: 3.8k

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Chapter Warnings: argument, jungkook is mean, OC is mean. both have high egos.

A/N: part 3 is here <3 i'm having sm fun writing this. also, i got this anonymous ask which stated i was using chat-gpt for my stories. i didn't like the tone of their message so i blocked them. however, i just want to say i have not used chat-gpt for my stories. i take time out of my day to type this story because i really want to put content out there that people might enjoy reading. i want to make stories that i have always wanted to read, but never found. truthfully, i did use chat gpt for the names of a few flowers, plants and bouquet combinations though, because i'm not a professional florist and i have no idea about flowers. i hope that's understandable. anyways, thank u for reading. let me know your thoughts :)

part 3: blooming grudges

The sun is setting, painting the street in hues of orange and pink, but the peace you’re so badly yearning for is shattered by the rumble of motorcycles and boisterous laughter right outside your shop. It’s been a week since Jungkook’s shop had started running and it has surprisingly quickly become a hotspot for bikers to gather in the evenings. The constant noise and chaos spill over into your once-quiet corner of the neighborhood.

You have no idea what they do and what the point of all these gatherings are, but you dread it every single time you hear a bunch of men lounging outside your shop.

As the evening progresses, you’re in the middle of arranging a bouquet when the sharp crash of breaking pottery jolts you out of your work. Heart pounding, you glance outside and see one of Jungkook’s biker friends near the sidewalk through your window. Still confused, you stand up and storm out to see what the hell had happened.

Anger surges through your veins as you spot the man casually standing there as if he didn’t just knock over one of your handmade ceramic pots off the display stand that was right outside your shop. “What the hell is wrong with you??!!?!” you snap, glaring at the man and then at the jagged pieces of your pot just lying there, near his feet.

The biker barely spares you a glance, shrugging nonchalantly. “Relax. It’s just a pot.” he says.

“Just a pot?” you repeat, your voice rising. “Do you have any idea how much time and effort went into that? Or do you only care about things you can rev or ride?” you feel your heart thumping as your anger skyrockets.

Before the man can respond, Jungkook suddenly steps out of the crowd near his shop. His leather jacket gleams in the fading light, and his dark eyes flicker to the broken pot before landing on you. “What’s going on?” he questions, his voice low and calm, but there’s an edge of warning to it.

You point at the shards of pottery. “What’s going on? One of your friends just broke my pot and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize!” Jungkook looks at his friend, who just shrugs, then back at you. “It was an accident.” he dismisses, his tone clipped. “I’ll pay for it.” he continues and you watch his friend just leave the scene, completely unbothered.

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Pay for it? Do you think that solves everything? This isn’t just about the pot, Jungkook. Every night, this street turns into a circus because of your shop. My customers can’t park anymore, and now your friends are trashing my things.” you begin, moving your hands as you speak, unable to remain calm anymore.

His jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer. “Look, I’m sorry about the pot, but don’t act like I’m the reason your shop isn’t doing well. Maybe it’s not the noise. Maybe people just don’t care about overpriced flowers.”

Your breath catches, his words cutting deeper than you expect. “Wow,” you say, your voice trembling with anger. “You really think you’re better than everyone, don’t you? Just because you’ve got your flashy bikes and your little gang of followers?” you ignore the way your heart twitches at how he had just disrespected you and your business.

His expression hardens. “Better than everyone? No. But at least I’m not the one blaming other people for my problems. You’re so focused on what’s wrong with my shop, but maybe the issue isn’t me. Maybe it’s you.”

Your fists clench at your sides. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve been here for years, building this business from the ground up. And you waltz in, turning this neighborhood into a mess, and act like you’re doing everyone a favor?” you see red as you fight with him, unable to contain the flow of words that are spilling out of your mouth.

Jungkook’s voice sharpens and he doesn’t hold back. “You think I don’t work hard? That I haven’t sacrificed everything to make this shop work? You don’t know anything about me. But sure, keep throwing stones from your little glass house.” he counters harshly.

“Oh so you can say anything about my business, but i can’t? You can talk about me like you know me, but i can’t?” There’s venom in your voice as you argue and Jungkook clenches his jaw, trying to calm himself down.

The tension between the two of you is suffocating and each word cuts like a blade. As an awkward silence fills the air, you shake your head. “You’re unbelievable.” you breathily say. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.” you add.

“And you...” he fires back, “care so much about your damn shop that you can’t see past your own damn ego.” You look at him with your lips parted, unable to come up with a comeback. You feel your eyes sting and nothing makes sense anymore. You hate it here. You hate him.

Before you can respond, one of the bikers calls out to Jungkook, and he turns away, his shoulders tense. He doesn’t bother looking back at you and just leaves.

Fuming, you crouch down to pick up the broken shards of your pot. Your hands tremble as you scoop up the jagged pieces, and a sharp piece slices right through your finger. You hiss, dropping the shard as blood wells up from the cut. Your eyes tear up as you watch your finger bleed. You were so done with this man and his stupid shop.

Ignoring the sting, you finish cleaning up and head back inside, pressing a tissue to your finger. You flip the sign on your door, deciding to call it a day since you weren’t really in the mood to face any new customers. You retreat to your counter, where you slump into your chair, frustrated, exhausted and seething.

//

Inside Throttle and Torque, the atmosphere is much quieter, now that the bikers have left. Jungkook leans against the counter, his expression stormy as he thinks of the interaction he had with you 4 hours ago. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok sit nearby, watching him with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

“You look like you’re about to punch something.” Jimin says, breaking the silence. Jungkook scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s that flower shop owner again. She’s impossible.”

“Y/N?” Hoseok grins. “What did she do this time?” he questions. Jungkook glares at him. “One of the guys broke her pot, and she went off like it was the end of the world. Then she starts blaming me for everything—says I’m ruining the whole street. Like it’s my fault her shop isn’t getting customers.” he speaks, his tone filled with annoyance.

“Isn’t it, though?” Jimin teases, earning a sharp look from Jungkook. Yoongi, raises an eyebrow. “Sounds like there’s more to it than just a pot.” he states.

“She doesn’t get it hyung...” Jungkook says, his voice growing louder. “She acts like she’s the only one who works hard, like I haven’t busted my ass to get this place running. And then she has the nerve to call me selfish? Like she knows anything about me.”

“Sounds like she hit a nerve.” Hoseok snorts, a smirk on his face. “Shut up,” Jungkook mutters, but the irritation in his voice betrays him. “She thinks she’s so perfect, but all she does is complain. It’s like she’s looking for reasons to hate me.” he rolls his eyes.

“Maybe she is.” Yoongi says, his tone thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ve already given her enough reasons to hate you.” he continues. The room falls silent, and Jungkook scoffs, pushing off the counter. “Whatever. She’s not worth it.” he dismisses, not wanting to think of you or the raging encounter he just had with you.

//

the next day; The morning sun spills through the large windows of your flower shop as you rearrange a fresh batch of chrysanthemums. Despite the beautiful blooms around you, there’s a heaviness in your heart. Last night’s argument with Jungkook replays in your mind, his sharp words still stinging.

The little bell above the door jingles, pulling you out from your trance. You turn to see a man walking in—a face you recognize from the group that always lingers outside Jungkook’s shop and sometimes with him as well. “Hi.” he says, his voice calm but kind. “Y/N, right?”

You blink in surprise. “Yeah… and you’re one of Jungkook’s friends, i suppose.” you say, moving away from the flowers as dry your hands on your apron. You notice how his eyes fall on the bandage wrapped around your finger, so you quickly hide it by crossing your arms over your chest. He pretends like he’s seen nothing and nods, his hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m Yoongi. I came here because I wanted to talk to you, if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tender.

Your instinct is to put up a wall, but something about his tone disarms you. “If this is about last night—”

“It is.” Yoongi interrupts gently. “But not in the way you think.” He steps closer, his gaze steady but non-threatening. “I’m here to apologize. On behalf of Jungkook. And… the idiot who broke your pot.”

You blink again, caught off guard. “You’re apologizing? Why?” you gulp, something about this, not sitting right with you. “Because he won’t.” Yoongi says with a faint smile, though his tone carries a hint of seriousness. “Jungkook’s stubborn. He knows he messed up, but he’s too proud to admit it outright. And, well, someone has to try to make things right.” he admits, blinking his eyes.

Yoongi observes your expression, noticing how you still look quite unconvinced. His face softens as he continues. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy, Y/N. He just… rough around the edges. Give him time. He doesn’t always know how to handle things. He gets defensive when he feels cornered.”

“Cornered?” you echo, frowning. “I wasn’t cornering him. I just wanted some peace.” you defend yourself. “I know.” Yoongi agrees. “And I think, deep down, he knows it too. But he’s been under a lot of pressure with the shop, and sometimes he lashes out without meaning to. Not that it excuses anything.” he adds quickly. “You didn’t deserve what he said. Or how he treated you. ”

His honesty surprises you, and for the first time, you feel a part of the weight lift off from your chest. “Why are you telling me this?” you suddenly ask, eyeing him even though, deep down you’re trying your best to believe everything this man says.

“Because I think you’re both better than this petty back-and-forth... interactions.” Yoongi says simply, shrugging. “And maybe, if you understand where he’s coming from, it’ll help. Or not. I don’t know. I just thought you deserved an actual apology, even if it’s not from him directly.” he finishes, flashing you a small, kind smile.

For a moment, you’re silent, processing his words. Then, to your own surprise, you smile faintly. “You’re a good friend, Yoongi.” you softly say, earning a chuckle from him as he scratches the back of his neck. “Someone’s gotta keep him in check.” he grins.

After a moment, he steps back towards the door, pausing before leaving. “Take care, Y/N. And if he steps out of line again, let me know. I’ll knock some sense into him.” he nods at you and you laugh lightly, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you say, waving at him.

//

Jungkook sits on the edge of the counter, a wrench in hand, intently focused as he works while Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge around. The conversation flows between them, lighthearted at first, until Yoongi brings up his visit to your shop.

“So....” Yoongi begins casually, “I stopped by Y/N’s shop today.” he says. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What for?” he asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“To apologize.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair. “On your behalf. Figured someone had to.” he adds. Jimin snickers, while Hoseok whistles low. “Apologizing for Jungkook? That’s new.” he laughs as Jimin gives him a high five.

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, but his attention stays on Yoongi. “What’d she say?” he questions and Yoongi shrugs. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to hear your name, but we talked. She’s not as tough as she seems, you know. She’s just… tired. Your shop and the noise—it’s really messing with her.” he explains calmly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his jaw tightening. “And she’s hurt, by the way.” Yoongi adds, his tone sharper. “I noticed her hand. I guess she cut her finger while picking up the broken pieces of the pot your friend broke yesterday.” he explains.

The guilt that had been simmering in Jungkook since last night, suddenly boils over. “Why didn’t she say anything?” he snaps, more to himself than to his friends. “Maybe because you were too busy arguing with her to notice,” Yoongi retorts, his voice calm but firm. “She’s not your enemy, Jungkook. Stop treating her like one.” he says gently, hoping the younger one understands.

The room goes quiet, the weight of Yoongi’s words settling over them. Jimin and Hoseok exchange a glance, sensing the tension. Jungkook exhales heavily, tossing the wrench aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” he admits quietly. “I just—” He stops, frustration lacing his voice.

“You don’t know how to back down,” Jimin finishes for him, a teasing edge to his tone. Jungkook glares at him but doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans back against the counter, running a hand through his hair. “What else did she say to you?” he questions Yoongi. He smirks slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asks, wiggling his brows.

Jungkook’s glare intensifies, and Yoongi chuckles. “Relax. She was civil. We just talked about you a little and that’s all. She thinks I’m the ‘good friend,’ by the way.” he smiles to himself.

The comment makes Jungkook’s stomach churn with something he doesn’t want to name—guilt, jealousy, maybe both. He stays quiet as the others laugh, his thoughts swirling.

He’s messed up, and he knows it. And now, the thought of you opening up to someone else, even Yoongi, twists something deep inside him. For the first time, he wonders if the damage he’s caused can ever be repaired.

//

It’s just another day—or at least you hope it will be. After the pot-breaking incident a week ago, things between you and Jungkook have only grown tenser. Though Yoongi apologized to you on behalf of his actions, you were still very annoyed by the way things still hadn’t changed.

His friends still gather outside his shop in the evenings, their bikes parked so close to your store it’s nearly impossible for customers to walk in without squeezing past them. You’ve been trying to keep your head down, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with Jungkook.

However, despite the ongoing tension you can’t help but notice how hardworking Jungkook is. For a brief moment, you feel a twinge of guilt as you think about the bad blood between you guys. Maybe you need to start putting your differences aside and try to get along with him.

You shake your head, telling yourself not to think about that. You leave that thought for another day, when you’re less busy and have more time to waste.

A new shipment of flowers and pots arrives after about an hour. You’re juggling the chaos of directing the delivery workers when disaster strikes. One of the crates slips from a worker’s hands, scattering flowers and dirt all across the curb—and, unfortunately, onto one of the shiny motorcycles parked outside Jungkook’s shop.

You barely have time to assess the mess before Jungkook storms out. His face is a mask of irritation, and his voice cuts like a blade. “What the hell is this?” he immediately snaps, gesturing at the scattered soil and dirt-streaked bike.

You sigh, already bracing yourself. “It was an accident. We’ll clean it up right away.” you calmly say, knowing damn well this wasn’t something you were about to get to away with. “An accident?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief. “You really need to start taking responsibility, Y/N. You can’t just keep saying it’s an accident every time you screw something up.” he angrily says.

Your frustration bubbles over. “Excuse me? This is the first time I’ve caused any inconvenience to you. Meanwhile, your friends park their bikes outside my shop every evening, blocking the entrance, and I don’t say a thing!” you argue.

“Oh, here we go...” Jungkook retorts, his voice rising. “You’re always whining about the bikes. Maybe if you managed your deliveries better, this wouldn’t have happened.” he scoffs loudly.

“Don’t turn this on me!!” you snap, stepping closer. “You act like this street belongs to you and your gang of bikers. Maybe if you had a little consideration for others, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation!” you stomp your feet at the last word, wanting this interaction to just end. But were you going to be the first one to stop? no.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something even harsher. But he just shakes his head, his expression dark. “You know what? Forget it. Clean up your mess and stay out of my way.” He coldly says as he turns around and walks back into his shop, leaving you standing there with your hands clenched into fists.

//

After the chaos of the day, you’re sitting in your shop long after closing time, staring blankly at the broken pieces of another pot that lays lifeless on a piece of paper on your counter —a casualty of the earlier mishap. You close your eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

Yoongi’s voice echoes in your mind from the other day, when he’d come into your shop to apologize on Jungkook’s behalf after the first pot-breaking incident. “Jungkook’s not a bad guy.” Yoongi had said, his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just… rough around the edges. Give him time.”

You had wanted to believe him. For a moment, you even thought there might be a chance for you and Jungkook to coexist peacefully. But now? Now you feel stupid for ever entertaining the idea. Jungkook has made it perfectly clear that he has no intention of meeting you halfway.

You sigh, rubbing your face. You didn’t like how this whole thing had been affecting you. It was draining and just sooooo not worth it.

Forcing yourself to get up, you clean up one last time and then proceed to lock up the shop, so that you can finally head home. As you begin your walk home, you notice how the streets are quiet, the faint hum of distant traffic is the only sound accompanying your footsteps.

Your thoughts are heavy, clouded by everything that’s happened. The arguments, the pot-breaking, the way Jungkook’s words today had stung more than you wanted to admit. You wonder if you’re overthinking things, but the lump in your throat says otherwise.

You hug your jacket tighter against the cool night air, eyes focused on the pavement in front of you as you walk briskly towards your house.

//

Jungkook stands outside his shop, ready to lock up he watches you walk down the stairs at your entrance and cross the road, not noticing his presence at all. His chest feels tight, an unfamiliar mix of guilt and something he can’t quite name. He doesn’t like how things escalated today. He doesn’t like the way your voice cracked when you argued with him.

As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he’s been unfair. It wasn’t just about the dirt on the bike or the delivery mishap—it was the way you stood up to him, pointing out how inconsiderate he and his friends had been. You weren’t wrong.

He steps away from his shop, just to get a clearer view of your walking form. He watches intently, observing the way your shoulders are hunched slightly as if the weight of the world rests on them. The sight stirs something protective in him. It’s late, the streets are too quiet, and he knows better than anyone the kind of dangers that can lurk around in the dark.

For a split second, he considers calling out to you so that he can offer you a ride home. But then his pride kicks in, the argument from earlier replaying in his head. His ego won’t let him take that step—not yet.

Instead, Jungkook makes a quick decision. He leaves his bike parked outside his shop, shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and starts following you from a distance. You walk briskly, your mind elsewhere, completely unaware of the quiet footsteps trailing behind you. Jungkook keeps his distance, making sure to stay out of your line of sight.

His gaze scans the dimly lit street, the quiet unnerving even to him. He can’t help but feel protective as he watches your small frame move through the shadowy paths. Every now and then, he glances around, hyper-aware of his surroundings.

He follows you for several blocks, his pace matching yours but always a few steps behind. When you pause to adjust the strap of your bag or check the time on your phone, he stops, leaning casually against a lamppost or pretending to examine something in a shop window.

You finally reach your building, pausing to fumble with your keys at the front door. Jungkook stays back, watching as you disappear inside. Only when he hears the click of the door locking do his shoulders relax slightly. He lets out a long breath, rubbing his nape as he turns to head back towards his shop.

As he walks back, his mind is restless. He thinks he’s ridiculous for following you all the way home just to make sure you reach safely. “Why do you care so much?” he mutters to himself, kicking a loose pebble on the sidewalk. But he already knows the answer, even if he’s not ready to admit it.

When he finally reaches his shop, his bike still waiting where he left it, Jungkook glances once more in the direction of your shop. A strange mixture of guilt and something warmer lingers in his chest. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just sighs, climbs onto his bike, and decides to head home.

While he rides back home that night, a quiet resolve settles in his chest—a growing realization that maybe, just maybe, he owes you more than just a silent apology.

<- part 2 // part 4->

[cupidbedsy]

hiii!!

i hope you’re having a good day!

i was just wondering if you could give some of your blog recs?

yes of course!! i love answering this question :)

〚 @sweetestdesire 〛 ; okay i never mean to do this on purpose but somehow brynn is always the first blog i think of when i think blog recs because i think something deep with in me just needs to share my love for her and her fics. if there's anything that should tell you to read her fics is that i was once a brynn fanpage and i would go back to that era ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @sweethischier 〛 ; abby is so sweet and omg i just love her so much. i can never get enough of her and what she does and i always know i can get the best nico contnet from her and i'm so grateful for her ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @toasttt11 〛 ; my lovely toasty! i love toast so much, every time i get a notification that she posts a new fic or au i'm jumping at my phone and clicking the notification as fast as i can when i'm able. i absolutely love all of her au's and her mind is absolutely beautiful ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @19mercer 〛 ; oml rey is such ana amazing person. idk how or when i started calling her reyrey but i wll now always call her that because that's just what i think about when i see her posts. anyway, her au's are absolutely adorable and i love them sm ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @asunsetgrace16 〛 ; audrey is my yapper girl that i love to yap with. it's truly the most random conversations and it's so fun just to have that relationship with her, i wouldn't change it for the world. plus i absolutely love her fics too, they are always the sweetest thing to read ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @lukesvangelista 〛 ; okay shea might be my guilty pleasure in this very moment as i'm writing this. and yes, i have read all of her fics multiple times and i won't stop talking about them ever. if you're not reading her fics what're you doing? ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @rowdyluv 〛 ; cay is the one who supports my thirsting and i couldn't be more thankful for her for encouraging me. she's one of my favorite hype girls, plus just seeing any notif from her makes me smile ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @hhughes 〛 ; omg cami! so so so so amazing, her blog is just scratches my brain in the right way. and not to mention if i even see a blurb from her i am all in and sat down to read it ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @wineauntie 〛 ; ivy's mind is honestly such a wonder to me. i cannot believe all of the things she comes up with and let me tell you, i want to kiss her mind every time a fic comes out. (the quinn and bunny series is all i need in my life, thank you thank you thank you for your service) ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @winterbarnesblog 〛 ; MY GIRL!!! sitting here giggling and kicking my feet just thinking about her. ana and i have gotten so close and i'm so thankful fo rit because she's honestly all-around amazing. and her au's- don't even get me started ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @lovesickhughes 〛 ; oh what to say what to say about liv. i love everything liv does and i may or may not have caught myself staring at her blog for minutes on end bc it's so pretty. she's so sweet and nice and i love her overall! ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @wintfleur 〛 ; roro's fics are the just the thing i need after a long day. i love curling up on my couch and just reading them with a mug of tea, it's so perfect. and plus i do have to talk about her blog vibe because it's just so pretty and amazing ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @heartsaturn 〛 ; truly truly the only girl that i relate to when it comes to being a chicago fan, it is an absolutely different feeling that you can only feel in the city of chicago and i'm so glad i have her to bond of it. she is so amazing to talk to and i love reading everything she writes ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @isaadore 〛 ; isa is an absolute gem and so are her fics. she's always so sweet to me and has helped me with so much and every time i get to talk to her i'm so happy! ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @star2fishmeg 〛 ; there are truly no words to describe how much i adore meg. sitting down to talk with her is so fun and i can gush about her writing if you ask me to at any moment, just go on and on, truly no shutting me up. also she's one of my resident luke girlies so like bonding! ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @luke-hughes43 〛 ; i love meg so so so much. honestly just talking to her can make my day and i love our little ocnversations we have here and there. her au's are adorable and just the sweetest thing ever ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @delilaahh9 〛 ; lilah is an amazing person to talk to her and her will au is absolute perfection. everyone needs a lilah in their life, i'm sure of it. ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @prettyboysinmyheart 〛 ; a is a wonder, and that's that. i cannot tell you how much i love her and how loved she makes me feel. she is always one of the first people to give her support and comment on something that makes yous o happy. so is the sweetest person ever ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @daniiiboo 〛 ; dani's fics are a work of art and i cannot express how much i love them. she deserves all the love in the world and so much endless support ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @wusyanamegirlfriend 〛 ; elise is so wonderful to talk to and yap with! our conversations never cease to entertain me and i could rms me on and on forever with her ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @crazy4smitty 〛 ; i'd like everyone to meet who got me on my will smith shit and i'm never looking back. everyone should go thank her and support her. no but actually, i love reading her au's and her fics and i just get so giggling when i see one ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @thedevilrisen 〛 ; cici is the kindest person ever and she's so fun to talk to. the amount of random shit i say that she supports is actually so impressive if i'm honest. she deserves the biggest thanks for putting up with me and my convos. also her fics *chefs kiss* ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

〚 @anqeliclust 〛 ; okay immediately the first thing i think of when i think harls is how cute her blog is bc it's honestly immpeciable. back to what i actually wanted to say - one of the biggest hype woman i've come to known! she's so sweet and funny and i always love reading her feedback after she reads one of my fics bc it makes me feel so honored ; ꒰ navigation ! ꒱

and any of my other mutuals! i probably forgot some people so blame me and my poor memory

i should really make a post of all my mutuals

[lunaatthezoo]

Introducing: What None Saw

As I'm finished writing and now just in the editing stage of the final chapters of She'll Wait No Longer, I have begun work on its prologue: What None Saw. This will be a dual-POV mostly canon-compliant multi-chapter Elriel fic leading up to ACOSF Solstice. I wanted to explore interactions with them that we didn't get to see in the first four books, and I've been having so much fun writing it. It's unfortunately not smutty, but a whole lot of mutual pining, angst, and fluff. We're talking a WHOLE lot of soooooooft Azriel and blushing Elain. Preview below ;)

🎨: padawan.carol, commissioned by stephdaydreams

“Another question?” Azriel asked her, as if he could sense that void still pulling on her. Elain nodded again.

Azriel considered for a few moments.

“What did you dream of becoming, when you were a child?”

Elain blinked. She gazed down into her tea again. 

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “When my mother was still alive, she expected me to marry and unburden the family of my care, I suppose. Or perhaps bring them further fortune. I was only ever encouraged to think, act, and look like a highborn lady. I played the pianoforte, I learned to read and write with my tutors, and I attended society events. I was never told I could be anything other than a wife and mother.” 

A pang of guilt swept through Elain at the thought that Feyre did not get that chance to learn to read and write, and that she and Nesta had done nothing to teach her. 

Azriel only watched her, impassive, so she continued. 

“When we lost our fortune, I had no time to dream. I became quite skilled with sewing, as we could not often afford new clothes and ours always needed repairs. I gardened seldomly, only when I could afford seeds and had the time to. I helped keep our cottage in working repair and cooked in my father’s stead, because he was injured. The only thing I ever allowed myself to dream about was falling in love and marrying. Partially because it was something I desired, but also because it was a way out.”

Elain had never admitted any of this to another before, and she didn’t know why she did now.

But Azriel just listened, so quietly and thoughtfully, and the words falling from her felt like…a relief. A grounding. He listened to her without judgment or concern, only honest curiosity.

“What did you dream of becoming as a boy?” She asked him.

Azriel kept his cool, collected mask on his face, even as Elain swore she saw something flicker through his eyes.

“I had no dreams as a child.” 

Shame flooded Elain at what an insensitive question it was. Azriel had just told her he was locked in a dungeon for eleven years. Of course he wasn't thinking about becoming a warrior or a courtier or an artist. He was just trying to survive. 

Azriel must have seen the guilt on her face because he considered. 

“I suppose I dreamed of freedom.” 

Elain let out a breath. 

“As did I,” she answered. 

Their gazes locked and they simply stared at each other for long moments. 

“What is your favorite dessert?” Azriel asked her. Elain felt the smallest semblance of a smile tug at her mouth. 

“Do you enjoy sweet things, Azriel?” She asked him, surprised once again by his question. She couldn't imagine the warrior eating a slice of chocolate cake or lemon tart. 

Azriel grinned a bit, too. “I do enjoy sweet things, Elain,” he answered, holding her gaze with intensity. 

And despite everything, despite her doomed engagement and the unfolding war and her stolen life and her daunting mating bond, Elain felt a blush kiss her cheeks. 

She looked down, feeling bashful. 

“Strawberry shortcake,” she told him. 

Azriel grinned a bit broader at that. 

“Strawberry shortcake,” he repeated, nodding thoughtfully. “I have never had that.”

“Really?” Elain asked. “Is it not eaten here?”

Azriel shook his head. “No, I have never heard of it.” After a few seconds he added, “Perhaps I can try it one day with you.” 

Elain fought a blush once more.

“And you?” She asked, curious now. 

Azriel leaned back, considering. 

“Honey biscuits.” 

And despite herself yet again, Elain swallowed a laugh. Azriel raised a brow at her reaction, which made a true giggle escape her lips. 

“I'm sorry,” Elain laughed. 

Azriel's mouth twitched at her amusement. “What is it?” He asked her.

“It’s just,” she chuckled. “Honey biscuits are rather a…a youngling snack, are they not? A snack for a hungry toddler stomping his feet?”

Azriel chuckled a bit himself then, smiling truly. Shadows flitted around his head as if in response to his laughter.

"Yes," he answered, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I suppose they are."

Elain giggled once more. She imagined Azriel munching on honey biscuits in a secret Spymaster lair and laughed harder still.

"But can you deny their perfection?" Azriel asked her with an amused smile.

"No," Elain answered, shaking her head with a smile. "No, I cannot."

Azriel's smile seemed to falter as he gazed at Elain's face.

"That's the first time I've heard your laugh," he noted.

[toto-the-cactus]

Primarch + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

[defectivehero]

Ur reading is always so much fun! I'm excited to see what you have for the bingo 👀

I have a request! Would you consider "They'll come for me" or "Dragging themselves along the ground" with a villain whumpee?

Good luck with the rest of ur writing!! I'm excited to read it all eheh

ahhh thank you so much! I'm excited to write it too, tbh! and yes yes yes! i can do that. mwahahhahaha Ψ(`_´ # )↝

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: They Will Come for Me

"They will come for me," the villain maintains. The truth of the matter settles unpleasantly at the pit of their stomach. They know damn well no one is going to rescue them. This isn't a fairy tale—there won't be a royal figure to dash in and save them. This is the bleakness of reality: cold iron bars, a gnawing hunger digging at their stomach, dried blood crusted along their skin. The villain pushes these sensations aside, attributing their spiraling thoughts to their increasingly unpleasant confinement.

"You don't even seem to believe that," the hero points out helpfully. There's something almost close to worry on her face and it makes the villain sick.

"They're coming back," the villain repeats themself.

"Do you want to know what I think?" The hero hums. It's a rhetorical question; the villain isn't safe enough to weaponize satire and find a witty way to snap back at their enemy. Instead, they just stare at her blearily. The hero paints a sympathetic smile over her lips, a hand rising to grip the bars between them as she crouches down to meet their eyes. "I think you're going to rot down here. Because they left you, and they're not coming back."

The villain remains silent. They convince themself they're trying to save their strength—their silence is not born out of resignation. They pull their knees closer to their chest and curl in on themself, still warily watching the hero as she paces outside their cell.

"I'll cut you a deal," the hero offers after a moment. She continues walking back and forth across the villain's vision.

"No." The villain interjects.

"You didn't let me finish." She says.

"I don't trust you to be truthful." The villain remarks.

"I am being truthful," the hero sighs. She stares at them for a moment, before evidently abandoning the notion of compromise. "But, fine." She shrugs. As she begins to depart, the villain realizes they've just thrown away what could've been their only way to escape. They hear the plea fall from their lips before they can stop it.

"Wait." They implore her.

The hero freezes in the doorway. The villain doesn't need to see her expression to know she's wearing a sharp-toothed smirk. Their enemy swivels back around; indeed, she's grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Damn it. They've played right into her hand.

"Yes?" She asks.

The hero's going to make them say it. The villain grits their teeth and promptly abandons any semblance of dignity and pride. "What's the deal?" They question.

The hero stares at them with a scrutinizing gaze. She seems to be puzzling out the details in her mind. After a moment, she breaks through the silence. "If your little friends come for you within... let's say... a week," the hero offers, "I'll let you go without a fight."

The villain stares at them in disbelief. That doesn't sound believable in the slightest. Surely there's something they're missing here. And while they don't want to think about their friends failing, they have to ask. "What happens if they don't come?" They ask uncertainly.

"If they don't rescue you, you'll remain here." The hero answers smoothly.

"...For how long?" The villain hears themself ask.

The hero studies them. "For as long as I deem it necessary." Forever, then, the villain thinks to themself darkly.

"What's the catch?" The villain demands, after few moments have passed and they've failed to find an immediate risk to this 'deal.'

"There's no catch," the hero says, contrary to their suspicions. "Trust in your allies, and everything will work out. Right?" She looks at them expectantly.

"Right." The villain responds, their mouth dry. It's such a simple thing, yet it feels like an impractical feat. All they need to do is wait for the others to rescue them. So... why do they feel so uneasy? They shake their head and withdraw into the caverns of their mind, suppressing any doubts or reasonable suspicions.

One day passes. Then two. Three, four, five. There is no sign of a savior for the villain to latch onto. The villain's hope begins to morph into despair; they start to dread the sound of the door swinging open at the hero's grip. At first, they had relentlessly monitored the rise and fall of the sun through the sunlight cast across the floor. But after the telltale mark of five days passes, they begin to abandon the notion. They know it's foolish to give up hope with two days remaining, but there's an inexplicable conviction brewing in their chest: one that renders any of their previous expectations to static.

The next time the hero enters the room, the villain doesn't bother with their typical fanfare. "How long has it been?" They cut right to the chase.

The flat line set across the hero's lips is all the villain needs to get their answer. Yet the words their enemy utters are even worse. "It's been a month."

"A month," the villain repeats hollowly. Their ears are ringing. How far will the hero go to ascertain her victory? Why would she choose such a blatant, easily disproven lie?

The hero pays them a sympathetic smile. "We had this same conversation yesterday." She admits. She's staring at them with concern, as if they're a fragile ornament just moments away from breaking.

The villain doesn't believe her. They say as much, in many rather unsavory words. The hero doesn't seem affected by their anger or irritation; rather, she is frustratingly calm. She leaves them silently moments later.

The villain waits until she's gone to take a slow rattling breath, before burying their head in their hands. Their heart is roaring in their ears. Surely the hero is lying. She's messing with their perception of time to instill fear in them. Surely the villain will be freed soon.

Their head is spinning. The blood on the floor is so dark it appears black. The truth of the situation is staring them in the face, but they can't accept it. They can't accept the scars set into their skin; the noticeably more brisk air surrounding the space; the length of their fingernails, which they always file extremely short.

"They're coming back for me." The villain whispers to themself. "They're coming back."

Maybe if they repeat it enough, they'll start to believe it.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterlist

I know this isn't necessarily the straightforward way to write this trope... but ah well. I just like the idea of "they will come back for me," being stated as a way for the villain to reassure themself, rather than a genuine threat or warning to the hero.

anyway, thanks for reading! <3

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[divinit3a]

For the ask game 💕

💕 Time for a shout-out! What are some of your fav AUs from other creators in the fandom? ⭑ dca au ask game

^-^ ....OK! I shall set down all the cakes on the table for a full buffet! Get your forks & knives out! 🍽️🍽️🍽️

please don't hesitate to let me know if you'd prefer not to be @'d in the future, or to be removed from this post u_u <3 I totally respect folk's preferences!

✨ lets go! ⭑⭑⭑ ⭑⭑⭑ ⭑⭑⭑

@muzzlemouths Dead Mall Dare / DfTR AU(s) Dead Mall Dare was one of the first AUs I read (like, literally. 1-2 months ago!) & I went woooaaah they are fun removed from original context. Isn't that so neat ?? This isn't a rabbithole to fall in, tho. u_u No wayyy guys c'mon ... /j Likewise, DfTR is a treat to watch unfold & see people squirm ^-^

@r0b0-wannabe Botanical Garden AU (or just any of your stories, but I'm.. sticking to the law...s... ) Hi, I stayed up to 2-3am drawing ur boys bc Im normal about this AU & how endearing it is... obviously... (💚) I love your writing style & characterizations. Maybe this is silly, but, I also enjoy learning about plantcare, too :3

@sinister-sincerely 2nd Choice AU Oh, you are so evil. The username matches. (A COMPLIMENT!! Hehe.) Oh, you write drama, angst/no comfort, hurting/damaged characters making awful choices so well. It was wild doing a double-take to realize YOU! are the WRITER for 2nd choice!! Some day, I will get u. For now, run 💜🔪

@wyervan Human!Slasher AU :D Yay! Both the OG/Main storyline are wonderful. I find the community version very endearing as an AU-within-an-AU. (love that!) As someone who used to run RP groups (on god!) it fills my heart with joy to see people filling out a world with so much life. Your art style is delightfully grungy ^-^/

@pluck-heartstrings - Pluck My Heartstrings AU Ohhh. I am weak to fairytale/renfaire vibes, as well as the more classic harlequin jester aesthetic u_u<3 Plus, the Vocalist/Princess is just so dang compelling, too. Your design sense is impeccable.

@moon-buggg Haunted House & Mad Scientist AUs They are both so neat & I can't wait to learn more!! The Haunted House AU designs live in my head rent free along with the comics :3

@zenkaiankoku Broken but Better AU Lovely, torn-up designs! Yay, mechanical horror! Yay, angst!! And a delightful remix of their personalities, too <3

@authormeat Alienware AU ^-^ I am instantly delighted by the weird guy freak energy & that the yn IS an alien/monster. Thats all I want & more. I also love ur designs for other AUs

...

...

...... 🧍 I Have More to Say

And...And... Not.. AU specific, but 🏏💥BAM , BAM 💥🏏 LOVELY FOLKS!!!!!!

🍲 <{ @soupdweller THERE IS NO ESCAPE ok but fr.. I appreciate ya, homie :3 you are a joy to chat with!! beautiful art!! evil mind!! delicious soups. i cant wait for whatever u cook up ^-^ 🐤 <{ @luckyyyduckyyy I WILL READ UR AU STORIES!! RUN & HIDE!!! you are the goofiest goober in the wild west, by goodness. i love ur energy and the gorgeous designs u create!! 🐛 <{ @chickenchirps27 ACK I COULD STARE AT UR ART FOREVER! I'll have to start volleying over illustrators I think ya might enjoy... u are so sweet & funny!! 🐐 <{ @lurking-loaf YOU ARE SO KIND! Seriously, I appreciate the fun craft projects you recommended -& your words of support :') 🔮 <{ @anis-sketches :D HI! Happy to throw recs your way. Also, your art is adorable!! 🌿 <{ @craykaycee HI TO U TOO!! the tags u leave always make me smile, and i appreciate u stopping by to say hi... :3 & MANYMANY MORE BUT I NEED TO CUT MYSELF OFF OR ELSE

Per usual, I lost sight of the original goal. But! Consider:

🏏💥WHAM , BAM 💥🏏 GOTCHU >:)