#u have a whole life ahead of you after all
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madeofsunbeams ¡ 3 months ago
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i’ve been in & out of therapy + homes since i was ten years old and i grew up living with emotional, physical and sexual trauma before i was even big enough to reach a counter. and if nothing comes out of this site other than this one message then that's absolutely fine with me, but i promise you, it won’t always be like that. i know it doesn't feel like it now. and it doesn't feel like it when you go to bed, when you wake up, when you take a shower, or when you kiss someone, or anytime that you look someone in the eye and try to explain. but you will be able to reconnect with your body over time. something that has helped me a lot is taking the time to close my eyes, process & focusing on the pleasure + the actual sensations of my body and being more meditative as opposed to stuck in a cycle of intrusive thoughts. i used to not be able to have sex without dissociating, crying or feeling intense pain (vaginal, abdominal & pelvic most of which was psychosomatic, it was my body’s trauma response). because our bodies are the topography & cartography of our life experiences. both good & bad. it’s taken a lot of time, patience, challenging myself, work & therapy to get to where my body can experience pleasure without feeling like a wound or wincing & flinching. or to just not have my shoulders be constantly up to my ears. to not always be alert and hyper-vigilant like a deer after a gunshot. there are a lot of therapies & books that you can read on how to work on being more present in your body so you can be in the here & now and less in the past. emdr is one that is helpful as well as somatic therapy. some practices of dbt can be useful as well. and if you can't afford therapy or don't have insurance, some books are ‘the body keeps score’, ‘what my bones know’, ‘healing the incest wound’ (this is particularly useful if you’ve survived csa at the hands of a relative), ‘when survivors give birth’ (i read this one for a class but i got so much out of it, you don’t have to be pregnant or even want kids to get insight from it bc it gets into all the different nuances & types of sexual abuse + how that affects our bodies & how do we heal from those experiences to bring forth + birth new life into the world, both metaphorically and literally, and to help break these generational cycles of shame & trauma). there's also the cbt coping skills workbook for ptsd which is popular among therapists so you could buy that + work through it as well. i know you probably feel dirty & like you are colored in shame. i want you to know those feelings developed as a way to cope when you were young. a child can't deal with the possibility that the main person/people caring for them is harmful & unstable, because even if you do acknowledge that, what difference does it make? you have so few rights & such little power as a child. so we learn to internalize the chaos & abuse because it gives us a sense of control in a powerless + out of control situation. you are not the shitty, fucked up & disgusting actions of someone else who should've known better, had some fucking self control, and who should've been held more accountable; but even more importantly you should've been safe & you should've felt it every fucking second of every day. you are more than the harm others have done. i promise, i promise, i promise. pinkies, scouts honor and everything. your body, mind & heart deserve so much more joy, pleasure, exploration + wonder. i'm sorry someone once robbed you of that. i don't want you to continue to let them though. i want you to end up in a place where you are present + where you know you are safe. i want you to finally be able to look forward to the future. instead of constantly trying to clear the wipe board of the past. i would rather you draw a better & more whole picture instead. one with your own hands. you are so strong + resilient already. you survived the unthinkable & unimaginable. so i know you can do it. the truth is there's no magical cure all & you will never heal from these things fully, you will simply learn how to cope with them.
i feel so repulsed by sex i wanna vomit and cry and i dont know if im just like that or its my trauma affecting me
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ambreiiigns ¡ 2 years ago
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like SORRY to be rick and morty posting but
#he didn't wanna do the dimension hopping but when he's forced to do it bc he needs to kill that bastard rick he becomes like. hooked up#like all ricks are bound to do probably#bc he does use it just for fun too. he does put his whole pussy into having fun after a while. which he deserves#anyway. even if it grows on him it's still lonely like he thought#and so he tries to get his best friend his beloved his right hand man his silly rabbit birdperson to join him in like. one of the maybe fiv#moments of weakness. or vulnerability in his life post-dianebethmurder#and gets rejected. which is fine and he doesn't even care btw#and he Continues to be relatively lonely & becomes an alcoholic thru all that citadel bullshit until eventually he finds morty#and now he has his little buddy to dimension hop with for better or worse#more or less intensely for good or bad reasons w good or bad intentions but heeee mortyyy he is soooo special#only rick in the land who loves his morty baybay and maybe he doesn't do it well at all but considering where the bar is#morty got real lucky i guess#like he goes on and on abt how morty sucks and he can replace him w whoever but DOES HE. does he ever#like go tf ahead buddy get a new one what are u still doing here. did you perhaps get attached to this morty. surely not#he doesn't even have the strength to replace morty w his other grandkid like. come on#the closest he ever gets to actually replacing him is when crows teach him the way of Being A Decent Person and as he always does when he#realizes he's terrible he removes himself from the family and leaves. w the crows. before crawling back like the sad grandpa that he is#oh nay
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ellecdc ¡ 3 months ago
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HI QUEEN 🎀🩷🎀🩷
I literally just atalkws all your marauders fics for like 2 solid hours. You're writing is healing me at this point.
I was wondering if your requests were open? And if they are can I please request a fic that happens directly after the first war (marauders era) and reader has ptsd and maybe got triggered by the smallest of domestic actions done by one of the boys and comfort ensues for the episode and aftermath guilt?
I'm sorry it's oddly specific, just fighting some demons rn and your awesome writing kinda does the trick heheh
please feel free to ignore this one! love u <33
thanks for your request, love. hope things have been easier on you as of late <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader who is struggling with PTSD [1.5k words]
CW: PTSD, post-war, mention of past character death/grief, panic attack, hurt/comfort
The war had taken its toll on all of you; ghosts of the people you lost and the people you all once were haunted you, reminding you of scars both visible and invisible that coloured every aspect of your life.
There were things that the four of you staunchly refused to talk about; Remus refused to speak about his time in the feral packs, Sirius refused to speak about his brother, James refused to speak about Peter’s betrayal, and you refused to speak about what happened when you went missing.
Perhaps there were healthier ways to manage the grief and pain, perhaps you would all benefit from reconsidering those lines each of you had drawn in the sand.
But you were all alive, you were all together, and you had your whole lives ahead of you, and for now, that was enough. 
It was enough until it wasn’t.
It was enough until Remus was sitting on the floor of your kitchen with you pulled into his chest as Sirius hovered in front of you, holding your hands against his chest as he begged you to breathe, to copy his breaths, to come back to him. 
To come back to him. 
You and James had been fussing in the kitchen making breakfast this morning; Remus being wholly uninterested in mornings but very much interested in the two of you had been sitting at the kitchen table in camaraderie as Sirius shuffled sleepily into the room. 
He took the time to admire Sirius’ sleep rumpled hair and the faint lines over his face and bare torso, clearly having rolled straight out of bed before going in search of his loves. 
You were reaching into a cupboard to retrieve Sirius’ favourite mug when he came up behind you and placed his hand at the nape of your neck at the exact moment that James burned himself at the stove; cursing loudly and dropping the pan which landed on the floor with a bang, closely followed by the sound of breaking glass. 
Remus was up from his seat in record time, aching joints be damned, and at James’ side.
“I’m sorry, I’m okay; sorry.” James gritted out, acquiescing to Remus’ probes and allowing him to examine his hand.
“Awe bubs, you got yourself good.” Remus cooed as he cast a quick aguamenti over the burn.  
“Shit, yeah.” He breathed out. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“What broke?” Remus asked then, looking down at the pan that had landed horribly close to James’ feet and searching for evidence of a broken bowl.
“What do you mean?”
“Did you not drop something?” Remus clarified.
James shook his head with furrowed brows. “Just the pan.”
Their bemusement turned to concern when they heard a choked “baby” coming from Sirius’ lips. 
Remus’ stomach dropped as he turned to see you half keeled over, leaning against the counter with one hand at your abdomen and the other over your mouth as if you were suppressing a scream. 
“Is she hurt!?” James asked quickly, moving swiftly along from his own pain.
“It…I- it was me. I-” Sirius started, sinking to the floor in time with you as your legs seemed wholly unable to hold you up in your current state. 
“She’s panicking.” Remus surmised aloud, quickly tiptoeing over what he realised were shards of Sirius’ mug that you’d been procuring moments before. 
“Dove? Hey, look at me.” Remus offered as he crouched in front of you.
You shook your head quickly and sucked in a stilted breath. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, my love, just look at me.”
You shook your head again and tried to back further into the lower cabinets as if hoping they would simply swallow you whole.
“I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart,” Sirius pleaded, “we’re not worried about the mess.”
“I’m okay.” You sobbed, sounding anything but.
“I know you are, dove. You’re okay, come now.” Remus said as he finally joined you on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets and pulling you into his lap so that you were fully enveloped in his embrace. “Big breath, babylove, can you do that for me?”
You made a high pitched keening sound and shook your head quickly. “I’m sorry.”
Remus looked over to notice that James had his burnt hand held protectively against his chest while his other kneaded into Sirius’ shoulder as he whispered into his ear.
“Look, dove, Jamie can fix the mug no problem, and Siri’s gonna help you take big breaths, okay?” Remus tired then, stirring both boys into action as James straightened and cast a quick reparo to Sirius’ mug and Sirius shuffled over on his knees to station himself between Remus’ spread legs and in front of you. 
“Can you copy me, baby? Like this?” Sirius begged. “Just like this.”
Sirius pried your hands away from your face and encouraged them to flatten out against his chest where Remus was sure you could feel the hammering of his heart as he took a dramatic breath for your benefit. 
You choked out a few more apologies that both boys gently admonished you for as you tried to copy Sirius’ breaths; they were nowhere near as deep or graceful, but Remus was thankful for your effort nonetheless. 
James reappeared then, his own hand now wrapped with medical tape and smelling strongly of Remus’ healing balms when he held something out for you.
“Angel, can you do me a favour?” He asked extraordinarily softly that it even had Remus feeling more at ease. “Can you hold these for me?”
Remus watched your face as you wretched your eyes open - another ‘deep breath’ stilted by a sob as you looked to him - to see him holding two large spheres of ice that Sirius had for his firewhiskey. 
Sirius kept his hands gently stationed on your arms as you removed them from his chest and accepted the ice from James, still never letting go even as the ice began to melt and drip freezing water down your wrists. 
When your sobs became the occasional hiccups and Remus felt you deflate further into his embrace, he braved a gentle caress of your upper arms in warning of his presence.
“Better?” He murmured lowly into your shoulder, earning him a deep sigh that came out only slightly shaky. 
“I…think so. I’m s-”
“No, no, dove.” He admonished quickly, peppering slow kisses along your shoulder and the column of your neck. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”
“I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” You murmured quietly, and Remus watched as Sirius’ face crumpled.
“You didn’t cause a scene, baby.” He argued quickly. “You were scared; I-”
James made a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat as he wrapped an arm around Sirius and pressed his lips to his long-haired boyfriend’s head.
“Should we not touch you like that, dove? Here?” Remus asked carefully then; dragging a barely-there finger across the nape of your neck and watching goosebumps appear.
“No, that’s fine, I- it wasn’t that I…it was just both and I…I didn’t sleep very well and it was just…”
“Too much?” Sirius offered as James relinquished you of what was left of your ice that had you and Remus damp, drawing circles into your wrists that he still had secured in his grasp.
“Just at once, I’m sorry.”
“Angel…” James chided.
“I am sorry.” You insisted as you looked at James imploringly. “I’ve not been doing a very good job handling my shit lately and now I’ve ruined the morning for everyone.”
“It’s not your shit, baby, and it’s not only yours to handle; we’re supposed to be helping you too, yeah?” Sirius pressed as he craned his neck to meet your eye that you were trying to avoid. 
“And you didn’t ruin anything; you could never ruin anything.” James added. 
You sniffled at that and took another deep breath that hardly shook at all as you leaned further into Remus. “Is your hand okay, Jamie?”
James smiled softly at you before bending down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’ll be good as new, but I owe Moons some healing balm since I used a whole jar from his stash.”
“I’ll buy it!” Sirius announced quickly, surprising a small laugh from you.
“I’d think not, Pads; I’m the one who used it up!”
“Yes but you’re the one who was hurt, I’m the one who upset our girl.”
“I upset her too.” James countered as they began arguing who had played a bigger hand in this morning’s commotion. 
You and Remus shared a fond yet exasperated look before the two of you stood - on shaky legs after being folded up for so long - and opted to take a warm shower and change into dry clothes.
It may not have been the start to the day any of you would have liked, but you all made it out okay, you were all together, and you had your whole lives ahead of you. 
And for now, that was more than enough.
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truefandemonium ¡ 1 month ago
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BILLSTILL BILLSTILL
This AU has consumed my mind
Please accept my humble offering to the Bill still community ( @jellynut I totally forgot to credit u I am so sorry)
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a mind ensnared pt. 1
a billstill ficlet
(inspired by the AU by @jellynut)
…
“According to my research, and the readings I’m getting— she’ll be just off the coast— the Laptev Sea,” Ford said, adjusting the map in front of him before folding it and pointing in some random direction ahead of them. Stan tipped the wheel idly, raising his brows at his brother.
“Always thought Nessie would be in Scotland. Like the name. Not Norway.” Stan blinked as snow began to fall in soft flurries onto the boat, finding purchase in the tufts of greying hair poking out from the front of his beanie.
“Russia, Stanley,” Ford corrected in his trademark deadpan, judgemental eyes flicking over the rim of his glasses as he shifted his focus away from the roaring waves in the distance. “We’re headed for the coast of Russia.”
“Yeah, whatever, poindexter.” Stan didn’t exactly mean to say it. He could feel Ford tense every time the word slipped from his mouth. When they were kids— the nickname was friendly, affectionate. But after everything happened… everything with Bill…
You called?
Stan cleared his throat loudly, forcing himself to stare up at the falling flakes head on. “Heck of a storm, huh?”
Thank God— Ford laughed at that. “You mean the gust of cold wind that couldn’t constitute a squall? Yes, quite a storm,” the other man agreed.
Stan smiled. He missed this. His whole life: wasted, without his brother. But now, they could finally make up for that lost time.
Lost time. Boy have I heard that one before. But so have you, right Stanley?
Get out of my head. Stan didn’t notice his own knuckles whitening around the wheel. Get out of my head right now or I’ll—
You’ll what, Mystery Man? Yell at me? Hahahahahahahah—
Say, how much do you remember, Stan? Do you remember your favorite food? How about the shirt you wore everyday for a month while waiting for good ol’ Fordsy to come back from the abyss?
Stan sucked in a deep breath, risking shutting his eyes against the wind as the screaming in his head swelled. He can’t hurt you, Stan told himself, starting to sweat despite the cold.
But you remember the important things, don’t you? Like what Pine Tree gave you before he left for home. Or the secret Shooting Star confessed to you and you alone? Come on, tell me you remember that.
Stan opened his eyes and steeled himself. He wouldn’t let some stupid triangle ruin the rest of his life.
You gotta remember what makes you you, though, don’t you? The fact that you were the reason Ford spent half his life in nightmare dimensions. The reason his childhood was spent looking out for you.
No, no, it’s not true. Is it? Did I destroy Ford’s life? Since the beginning?
The reason he’s never been happy. Not even now—
Stan suddenly doubled over, a sharp pain in his skull causing a bright light to rip through his vision. The steering wheel cracked hard against his knuckles as he tried and failed to find purchase somewhere before collapsing.
“Stanley!” Ford was at his side in an instant, knees on the ground as he placed one steadying hand on Stan’s back, and pushed him to kneel with the other. “Stanley—?”
The two men sat in the snowy light of the moon, Stan wheezing, his vision blurred as sweat began to pool in his gloves and drip cooly down the sides of his face. The waters around them began to spin— or at least it felt that way. Despite the endless space beyond the boat, Stan felt the world closing in on him. All set to the sound of distant wicked laughter.
Ford felt cold to his bones, not from the wind or weather, but the look of sheer panic etched into his brother’s face. Stan had few moments of real fear that he let Ford get close enough to see. This… this was one of them.
Ford eased his hold on Stan and watched him slam his palms onto the deck, shaking hard enough to make his dentures clack together. Keeping one six-fingered hand on his brother’s back, Ford started to speak in a slow, soothing tone.
“Stanley, it’s alright, breathe, Stanley,” he muttered, watching Stan’s eyes flick wildly around, the fear clawing at him. He looked like a wounded animal… more specifically a rabbit.
Caught in a snare: the wire tightening with each sharp breath around his throat, Ford’s heart wrenched at the image. “Stanley.” Ford shifted to cup Stan’s jaw in his gloved hand, applying enough pressure to ease his glazy eyes upward.
“I’m right here,” he whispered. Stan’s gaze flickered with something— recognition, but his heaving didn’t cease. Ford continued, “Breathe, Stanley. I’m here.”
“Bill—” Stan choked out, shaking his head hard, trying to recoil from his brother’s gentle touch.
It was like a blade between Ford’s ribs. The name sent a shudder through his spine and blood flashing behind his eyes. Still, he held firm.
“Stanley.” His voice shook as he pulled Stan into his arms, forcing him to still. “Bill is gone.”
Finally, Stan moved. All at once, he barreled forward, wrapping Ford in a tight hug as he sobbed, the heat of his tears soaking into the exposed hair curling around Ford’s neck.
“He’s gone,” Ford repeated. Part of him wanted to believe it.
Part of him knew, even if Bill was gone. The memories were one thing that would never fall away.
…
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donatellawritings ¡ 9 months ago
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Rich to me is always the friends to lovers (everybody sees it but you two) it’s him yelling “behind” at everyone but sliding behind you with a hand on your hip “behind sweetheart” it’s you walking into the group of boys smoking outside & u bypass everyone to grab a smoke straight from his lips “thanks babe” it’s family having no empty chairs at the table so you sit on his lap while Syd & carm just stare. I think you’d bring my wish to life beautifully written. I need all the build up to the smut
can i just say that richie is definitely the type to be a jagoff to everyone, but never to you - everyone else knew how to work his last nerve, but you and your cutesy smile and bright eyes would make him all warm and fuzzy for sure
explicit sexual content ahead
it was no secret to anyone who worked at the restaurant (or had eyes) that you and richie had a ‘special’ kind of relationship. for starters, it wasn’t common for a hotheaded man, like richie jerimovich, to be so touchy and lovey-dovey with anyone. i mean, not even his ex-wife got to see that side of him often, and they shared a child. however there was something about you that just made richie feel as though he needed to be around you, protect you, handle you tenderly.
maybe it was because you were younger than him - fuck if he knew, all richie knew in his heart of hearts was that he had it bad for you.
things between you two started off gradually, “gotta get past you, sweetheart,” the older man rasped, the warm and calloused palm of his hand gently cradling the small of your lower back as he made his way past you, his tall frame easily reaching over you to grab ahold of a pot from the top cabinet.
you’d simply nod wordlessly, keeping your eyes trained forward in an effort to conceal the blush that rose to your cheeks.
after weeks of comfortability that increased between the two of you, you decided you’d test the waters. you’d watched carefully as he made his way out of the back door that led behind the building of the beef. quickly scanning over the not-so-busy environment of the restaurant, you walked away from the cash register, towards the back exit of the beef.
“i’ll be back in ten!” you called out, earning a mumble of approval from carmy and sydney who were entirely too engrossed in a conversation about expanding the menu.
the moment you’d exited the restaurant, the unforgiving cold winter chicago air bit at you, causing you to hiss as you quickly folded your arms tightly over your chest, your fitted ‘the beef’ t-shirt lifting a bit as you turned to find richie leaned against the brick wall.
he was so rugged and laid back, it drove you insane. his hoodie remained open, revealing the matching t-shirt that clung to his slim abdomen, one of his hands shoved in the pocket of his adidas track pants, while the other held a cigarette to his lips. richie didn’t notice your presence yet, too involved in a conversation with sweeps and marcus.
you’d decided it would be the perfect time to push the envelope, walking directly past marcus and sweeps as you approached richie, a flutter now swirling in your stomach as he raised his eyebrows at you, cigarette loosely held between his sharp teeth.
you two held eye contact for a beat, before you gently grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, before raising it to sit sit between the swell of your lips, taking a quick pull from the cigarette, “thanks babe,” you exhaled with a sweet close-mouthed smile.
all richie could do was swallow thickly, nodding to himself before he returned his attention back to the conversation at hand, softly swatting the side of your thigh when he decided that it was time for you to return the cigarette.
it was then, that things started to reach a whole new level of touchiness and couple-like actions between you and richie.
today was family. your second-most favorite day of the week, aside from payday. you were a bit late to the function, courtesy of your hair appointment, walking into the main room of the restaurant, instantly being greeted with a chorus of differing ‘hello’s’.
“hi, m’sorry for being late, my hair girl was late!” you rushed to explain, shrugging off richie’s your zip-up hoodie as you glanced around the room, seeing that all seats were occupied, “oh.”
sydney’s eyes widened as she shared the same realization, “fuck, uh, maybe we can get you an extra seat from the office, i-” she began, taking a bit too long, leaving richie no choice, but to come up with a solution of his own.
“s’nothing syd, she can sit with me,” richie spoke with a careless shrug, his mouth full of pasta as he looked up at you, swallowing his food before continuing, “c’mon, sweetheart.”
you obliged, your lips suddenly running dry as you walked towards richie’s seat, softly grabbing his outstretched hand as he gently guided your hips to sit comfortably against his.
you slightly shifted your hips, sending a shock to your clit as his bulge deliciously sat flush against your ass, “thanks, richie,” you muttered, focusing your gaze on the pasta dish that sat before you.
richie leaned back into his seat, the suddenly awkward silence of the dining room now becoming a bit too apparent to him. shaking his head, richie kept one of his arms loosely hung around you, before clearing his throat.
“yo, i don’t know why the fuck everyone is being fuckin’ quiet,” he huffed, his eyes now landing on carmy and sydney, before he sighed, “cousin, just say what the fuck you’re grateful for already!”
it wasn’t long before everyone returned to their normal conversations, about twenty minutes passing, before richie decided to lean in close to you, bringing his lips to your ear.
“m’ready to get the fuck outta here.”
and that’s how you ended up in the driver’s seat of richie’s car, his seat fully reclined back, one hand gripping the back of your neck, while the other guided your hips to bounce hard against his.
“ah, fuck - y’gonna make me cum in you if you keep fuckin’ me like that, sweetheart,” richie groaned, moving the hand that guided your hips to your back, pushing you further into his chest as he fucked up into you.
your face was in his neck, throaty moans and gasps leaving your lips as you sloppily kissed and sucked at the skin of his neck, the sound of your hips slapping into each other mixed with the squelch and slurp of your wet pussy taking his length leaving you a needy mess.
you were so close to reaching your peak, your pulsing hole clenching around richie’s dick as his thrust remained forceful and rough, “i can fuckin’ feel you around me, baby, y’want me to make you cum, yeah,” he chuckled, leaning his head against the headrest as he brought his hand to your hip, grinding your hips flush against his in circular motions.
“fuck, richie,” was all you could mewl through your gritted teeth, your stomach tight as your clit rubbed against the wet skin of his pelvis.
“keep ridin’ me, sweetheart,” he whispered, pecking your flexed temple as he forced your hips deeps against his, “just keep fuckin’ ridin’ me.”
yeah, your relationship with your coworker was far from orthodox, but neither of you seemed to get enough of it. nor, did you want to.
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taegimood ¡ 3 months ago
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Can we get sub!soobin getting jealous and possessive after you flirt with some guy in front of him
SQUEEEEE i was just telling berrie that i feel guilty for writing soobin too much but this one’s not my fault 🤓☝🏼 THE PEOPLE ASK AND I DELIVER 🗣️
edit: ……i got a little…..…. carried away 😶
ok soobin being such a little SLFNSKFJF he’s so pouty and defensive please
you would never intentionally hurt his feelings, but let’s say he’s been pushing it lately with the stubbornness. borderline brat behavior with how he talks back and whines over the littlest things, trying his luck with the pouty cold shoulder treatment that of course gets him nowhere (which then only makes him more of a baby about it).
at first, you can’t for the life of you understand what’s making him act this way lately; where did your sweet puppy-like soobin go ??? alexa play good boy gone bad
it’s not until he begrudgingly picks you up from work one day that you realize: oh…
he’s jealous.
you hadn’t thought anything of it when your new coworker joined your team a couple weeks ago, nor when he came face to face with your unsuspecting boyfriend who was picking you up from work that day.
sure, this new guy was very friendly, and eager to help where he could as you trained him for the new position, but you didn’t see it as anything more than that — while soobin, apparently, did.
you can see him now from across the room as everything clicks for you.
he’s sitting at the table by the entrance of your café, waiting as you take the last few minutes of your shift to go over a new latte recipe with said coworker, and you can tell from the furrow in his brows and how tightly his lips are pressed together that he is not happy with the current proximity between you and this other man.
like i said before.. you would never intentionally hurt soobin’s feelings. but when you laugh a little too hard at a joke your coworker just told and give his shoulder a light punch in response…
well, your introvert boyfriend is certainly not one for confrontation with a stranger, so needless to say you’re shocked as he immediately stands and stalks right up to the two of you with no hesitation.
“baby?-“
“don’t you think you’re a bit too close to her?”
you gape at him. he’s staring directly down at your coworker, who he towers over now that he’s right in front of him, and the other man’s eyes widen at the sudden shift in atmosphere.
“u-uh, well-“
“your shift’s over, let’s go home.” soobin mutters to you then, not looking at either of you now as he takes you by the hand without another word and pulls you out the door of the café.
you’re scolding him in the car the whole drive home, telling him how he can’t just do things like that, how he can’t just start randomly being rude to people and that this is so unlike him, how he’s been acting out so badly lately and he seriously needs to put this attitude to rest —
but soobin is silent the entire time. looking straight ahead, jaw clenched, leg bouncing in his seat.
your eyes flit over to him in concern.
he’s still silent as you both get out of the car, as you go up the elevator to your apartment, as you finally enter the keycode and step inside — and that’s when it all comes out.
you gasp as you’re suddenly pressed to the wall, his lips urgently meeting yours and his hands gripping you as close as they possibly can; you’re so shocked at the sudden display of dominance that you don’t react at first, until he whimpers against your lips, a silent, desperate plea for you to return his fervor.
and so you do.
soobin has you thrown onto the mattress before you know it, clothes ripped off, his body pressed right up against yours, his lips and his tongue and his hands overwhelming you all at once.
“s-soobin-“
“you’re mine. you’re fucking mine.”
you gasp as he bites down on the part of your neck where he was just sucking marks into a moment ago; a dam seems to have broken as he starts babbling now, and finally you understand the reason behind all of his recent behavior.
“hate the way he looks at you… hate the way he follows you around like a lost fucking dog.”
you moan wantonly as his throbbing cock suddenly enters you in one thrust.
“no one else can make you feel as good as i can. no one else can be as good for you as me. you know that, right? right? f-fuck-“
you’re practically drooling as he fucks you hard, his quick, deep strokes overstimulating as his voice breaks and you can tell just how desperate he actually is for your reassurance right now.
“s-soobin- f-fuck, i can’t even think s-straight-“
“i’m your good boy, right?? n-no one else? i always make you feel good? p-please say it..”
his hips are stuttering as he loses his cool, barely able to maintain a steady rhythm as he buries himself over and over again in your dripping cunt, face pressed into the crook of your neck as he desperately tries to make you cum — whether for you or for himself, or both, you aren’t sure.
“b-baby- fuck, baby, of course you do- so fucking good for me, always so fucking good.. my good boy.. fuck, just like that, soobin-!”
you’re fighting to maintain the control of yourself that you know he needs you to have, but it’s so difficult as he pounds your pussy so good that you swear you’re seeing other galaxies.
your words have him whimpering, breaths coming out in short little moans as he clutches you impossibly tighter, begging to hear more —
you gasp at the sudden feeling of his hot cum shooting into you, and a broken cry escapes his lips, pleasure mixed with frustration as he doesn’t stop, his body trembling from sheer overstimulation as he chases down your orgasm.
“b-binnie-! binnie, slow d-“
“w-wanted you to c-cum first, m’sorry, m’sorry, fuck-!“
you feel as if the wind is knocked out of you before you even get the chance to respond, because suddenly his hot tongue is laving roughly over your nipples and his fingers have moved down to draw rapid circles around your clit;
his hips slam into yours, making filthy wet sounds as his cum gushes from your entrance, his teeth marking up your tits, his whines and moans pornographic as you cum hard around his aching cock and his own second load fills your pussy to the brim.
you have to lock your trembling legs tightly around his waist to get him to stop thrusting; you’re both breathing raggedly as his hips finally still and he goes slack on top of you.
he lets out an exhausted little whimper at the feeling of your still-twitching pussy. he doesn’t show any signs of pulling out, and you don’t even know if has the energy to do it himself;
“binnie,” you whisper, reaching up to card your fingers gently through his damp hair.
“mmh…”
“baby, look at me.”
slowly he lifts his head from its hiding place in the crook of your neck.
“you know… normally i’d punish the hell out of you for how bratty you’ve been… but i think i’ll let it slide just this once,” you joke softly.
his lips are already forming into a pout but you’re quick to add; “you don’t ever, ever have to feel threatened by anyone else. you’re absolutely perfect for me, bunny.”
poor sensitive soobin, bro… 🤧 he’s had such an overwhelming day of different emotions that he quickly tears up at your words, sniffling and mumbling explanations and apologies and so many i love you’s as you cuddle him to your chest, cooing over your sweet silly boy and making sure he knows that he’s the only one for you <333
he still gets grumpy when your coworker’s around — but that man will be staying far, far away now. (soobin’s stank face is sure to clear any place out for miles)
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viceroywrites ¡ 4 months ago
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the way i have this whole story for gravity falls (stan x reader x ford) and am so tempted to write it but i need to finish my other wips
so i'll just dump it out here (some of this is also somewhat inspired by the swooning over stans dating sim)
edit: i ended up making it! interested in reading? click here for the masterlist.
-
pretty much the premise is that you are dating ford during the time that he's deep into his research into gravity falls. you become uncomfortable seeing how bill takes over his body and the havoc bill causes when he's in ford's body and after seeing what happened to fiddleford when entering the portal, give him an ultimatum: cut ties with bill or you're done.
of course, ford chooses his research. ford chooses bill.
you can't get over him, and after countless nights of tears, you appeal to fiddleford to let you use his memory gun to erase the memory of ford from your mind.
and he does.
you move back home, confused on how you ended up in a small town in oregon but fiddleford makes up a story, saying you were an old friend, visiting him while he was doing research. you lead a normal life free of the paranormal for many years. you sometimes have dreams, visions of a face that should be familiar but you can't seem to make it out.
planning out a roadtrip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself in explicably drawn to the town of gravity falls and figure you might as well check it out since it's on the way through your drive up to washington, you figure why not.
your car ends up dying on you, the battery giving out almost five miles out of town. as you're on the phone trying to map to the nearest towing company, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.
you look up to see stan, his window rolled down and his arm dangling out the side of the car.
why does he look familiar? you think to yourself as you put down your phone.
"yeah if you have jumper cables, i just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery." you say.
"of course, i have jumper cables, kid - look at my car, you think i haven't been stranded out here myself." stan chuckles, making a effortless u turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours.
you pop the hood of your car, giving stan access to hook up the jumper cables. you both stand in silence while stan attaches the cables to your car before stan's voice cuts through, "so uh, what brings you out here? you just driving through?"
you almost chuckle at his awkwardness, "sort of. i'm doing a whole road trip through the pacific northwest. i was gonna check out this town ahead, gravity falls."
stan blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town. his lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the mystery shack! one stop shop for mysterious oddities!"
you take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. you look up at stan, almost feeling like this is a con but as your car starts up to life, you figure you might as well check out what sounds like a tourist trap to appease the man who just helped you.
after driving your car to the mystery shack, you get a tour from stan himself, who shares that he used to be the former owner. as you walk around the building, it almost feels like home, like you've been here before.
talk about deja vu.
little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as you rounded the corner, finishing the tour. ford was outside fiddling with a new device with his back turned to you and stan elbows you in the arm, "that's my poindexter brother, ford. he's always working on a some geeky invention."
"you know i can hear you, stanley?" ford sighs, turning around to face you two.
he freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago. "y/n?" he calls out to you.
you blink, stan staring at the two of you in confusion and you tilt your head, confused yourself, "sorry... have we met before? how do you know my name?"
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kaeyeahsworld ¡ 3 months ago
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The Right Choice
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content warning: mild abusive relationship, thoughts of cheating (but none actually) scumbag ex, mild violence, regret, big dick toji, eating out, female reader, fingering, orgasm, 18+, angst bcs I love writing it.
A/N: another tattoo artist Toji brain rot. Not proof read or edited pls don’t come after me, come after or for toji which ever works for u :D
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It had been an entire year of your scumbag boyfriend setting up his own tattoo parlour right along side Toji’s.
Although in the initial days, your boyfriend’s place had done better compared to Toji’s simply because he was loud and obnoxious enough about his work, but when ultimately it came to finesse in the art Toji remained undefeated.
Toji’s calm but awkward manner with the clients made him an instant favourite in stark contrast to your boyfriend who only cared about the bucks.
With the tattoo parlours being almost beside each other, you often bumped into him. The first few times were just awkward but prolonged eye contacts, that went ahead to subtle smiles and Toji’s crinkling eyes, which at last proceeded to an awkward conversation.
“I see you around a lot. You work here?” He somehow mustered up the courage to ask you that, praying to the saints he hadn’t come off as creepy or overbearing.
Toji could never forget the first time he had laid his eyes upon you. It was late in the night while he was closing down, when he heard some voracious laughter coming off from Zack’s parlour. On the usual, he wouldn’t give two fucks if someone was even dying on Zack’s side but when curiosity got the best of him, he turned around and glimpsed at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.
Only for the rose coloured glass to be broken when he got to know that you were dating Zack. The most narcissistic piece of douche Toji had ever come across.
He initially thought you might have been the same and somehow kept convincing himself to keep away, but none of that worked when you guys had started conversing.
You had met Zack at a concert and not knowing better started dating him and the year since then had been..well, bleak to say the least.
Zack was beyond your comprehension. He was everything you wished you were- loud, confident but the more you came closer to his world, the more distant you felt from him. The Zack that doted on you in the beginning and made out sloppily with this stinky breath was nowhere to be found these days. The Zack that was all up for late night video calls was now the same one who would leave you on delivered for 24 hours straight. Or should you say a different one. Still, you were a stubborn little one. Refusing to accept the reality of the situation.
To the add to the whole thing, was the guilt that was brought upon by your little crush on Toji. You would never cheat on your guy, but god Toji felt like he was everything you deserved and more.
His intense lingering gazes, his soft smiles, his gentle demeanour but the strength that had come with it. It gave you all the right shivers.
Ironically, the first time you guys spoke to each other was when you were trying to escape your boyfriend who was fighting with a customer about the design, when you had accidentally bumped into Toji.
Noticing the inked beauty peaking out on his forearm, you immediately realised that this was your favourite artists design.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah” Toji looked at you, trying to not let his heart eyes show,
“Is your tattoo Miyazaki’s work?” This question genuinely surprised Toji and gosh he prayed to the heavens to warn him if this is the part where he falls head over heels for you.
“Ya know him?”
“OF COURSE I DO??” You had screamed and almost pounced on his arm to admire the man’s work.
Toji had wondered then how your eyes would light up if you got to know he had trained under the said artist.
Fast forward past a few more of “accidental” bumps into each other, and some lighthearted conversations about everything and nothing under the sun, in a few moments and both of you could sense the undeniable attraction you had felt towards each other.
But neither of you ever crossed the line. You were a woman, taken, and he was a man who respected your choices no matter how strange or..shitty.
You couldn’t help but notice how different Toji was around you and when you were together with Zack.
The kind demeanour he held was immediately replaced by indifference whenever he would see you with your boyfriend who would pass on a snarky reply just to irk the said man.
Toji could easily give Zack 2 broken legs with how big he was, but one look into your doe eyes and he couldn’t even bring himself to look in your direction except throwing a finger off to the other guy.
But nothing could keep you away from each other especially during those lonely wistful nights.
You lying in your bed with your fuck ass boyfriend wasted somewhere, fingers plunging deep into your warm cunt and a heart full of regret, guilt and most of it all, lust for Toji. Nights that went away calling out his name in small whispers imagining his large hands that would envelope you and touch in all the right ways nobody ever could. Making you see stars and kissing you through the bliss.
Toji was no better. Stroking his cock in anguish, lusting after you like a beast in heat. Your plump lips, your sexy fucking hips that he would dip kisses all over, if you were his, your luscious skin that he would worship and mark, you were going to be the death of him.
But when the nights slipped away and dawn broke and as in when in you guys bumped into each other, it was the same all over. Hidden glances and lazy longing that would never translate into something more.
Until it had.
You shouldn’t have come to the parlour today. Things had been rocky between you and Zack for a few weeks now.
He had been smoking up all the money and refusing to take even the simplest of clients just out of sheer audacity and worst of all, paid no heed to your words more than ever.
Going to the parlour, at 2 am in the night after getting a call about the ruckus your boyfriend had caused and setting the damn curtains on fire, you immediately ran over only to come across the most drunk and high Zack had ever been, amidst scattered flames.
You knew from your experience to be better than to be around him when he intoxicated but the situation at hand was not helping. If only you hadn’t invested money out of blind stupidity into his tattoo parlour, maybe you would have been spared this ordeal today.
“Drag this bastard away miss OR we are gonna call the cops on y’all” said a stranger trying to control him.
“I’m so sorry about this”
“WHO…THE FUCK..lem..me gooo you little..bitch..”
“Baby listen to me, you aren’t in the right mind let’s get out of here..”
Zack had always been rough with you but never violent but it seemed like that was about to change tonight, when he grabbed you by your shirt collar and harshly dragged you towards him.
”ZACK! LET..ME GO!”
“Fuck youu..you” but before he could bring his face towards you, came a dangerous hit that probably bore into the drunkard’s skull.
“Hands away you sick fuck.” said the seething voice.
It was Toji. More than the pain, all you could think about was the relief that had washed over you on seeing Toji’ eyes that were ablaze with fury.
Before you could even say anything, he grabbed your wrist towards his motorbike and plopping helmets on both of you, drove away to your address.
He drove like the man he was at the moment- fast, angry and menacing. You clutched onto his waist for you dear life and that was the only thing, that calmed Toji a little bit.
You were here, he was here with you and you were safe and that was all he needed.
But in the half an hour that he drove both of you in utter silence, the events of the night slowly came crashing back to you.
Longing that turned into regret and that had now taken its ugly form of shame. Shame for who you were and who you had chosen to be with.
Sensing your hasty breaths on his back, Toji slowly parked his bike near the sea shore.
Even with unbearable longing like his, Toji had made it a point to never touch you. He would only do that when you were his completely mind, body and soul.
Tonight was the first time and he didn’t like it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to face Toji and when he slowly grabbed your chin to look at him, the sight before him tore his heart apart.
Tears welled up in your eyes and dripped down your soft cheeks like pearls, if Toji was a god he would be raging a war by now. But he was a mere mortal and all he could do was engulf you into him. Arms all around, caging you and protecting you, while you stained his jacket with your sobbing.
After the night had passed and somehow returning to your apartment with his help, you didn’t leave the confines of it for almost 2 weeks. Except for the occasional knocks from the said man or a get well soon bouquet, he had not spoken a word more to you, just as you hadn’t.
Both of you knew it was your decision in the end.
Almost as a sign, you got the news from your friends that Zack had ran away the same night as the police tried to catch a hold of him. Nobody knew where to and neither of them cared enough to find out.
The last checkpoint was having a conversation with Toji.
As you slowly approached his parlour, the ever so familiar but distant end of the tattoo street, one end of which was burnt ashes and the other end bustling with less customers compared to the usual, you awkwardly knocked on the clean glass door.
“Here inside” said Toji’s low baritone from the room within, as you noticed him deeply zoned in into his work on an old man and mistaking you for a customer.
You decided to wait outside in the waiting hall. It felt only right. It was only right to apologise for whatever had happened.
He had waited for you so patiently always, a steady wall that you had come to lean on unknowingly through the past few months and he never once asked anything in return. You loved him and you would wait for him just as long.
After being done and billing up the customer half an hour later, Toji peeked into the waiting hall to see who had checked in while he was working when his heart raced at the sight.
Here you were, in a soft white dress that had flown gently till your knees and straps falling agonisingly over your shoulder, looking like the sweetest angel and not to forget, with a small flower in hand. A delicate little rose and upon seeing Toji in all his black top and pants glory your heart welled up just as much as.
“Toji…I didn’t want to disturb you..so”
“You should have. You can always disturb me you know that right?”
He wanted to hug her. Touch her face, kiss her locks and smooch her lips. His restraint was a tight string waiting to break.
“Why are you here, Y/N?” His voice came off tighter than usual. With tears in your eyes and slowly offering him the small flower you found on your way here, you asked him
“Toji, can I get a tattoo?”
This took him by surprise. He didn’t know what he was expecting but tattooing you was definitely last on his list. Heaving a sigh, he gently took your fingers and the flower and moved you into the room with all his equipment.
Nobody had given him flowers before. The simple gesture had set in an ache for your being that he couldn’t ever define even if he wanted to.
If you wanted to do it his way, so be it.
“Where do you want your tattoo miss? Based on that I can tell you how painful—“
“My lower back”
“What—“ before he could even say anything, you were stripping down from your dress, locking the door while Toji’s mind was reeling.
2 weeks you had disappeared and now you were here in front of him , half naked.
“You favourite work of Miyazaki. Can you ink it on me Toji?” Of course he would. He could never say no to you. Not when you looked so sweet, sitting right in his chair looking up at him with heart eyes. Legs on display all for him. In nothing but soft lace panties.
“Fuck…darling, what are you doing to me..” he said as he slowly grabbed a delicate stencil of one of his favourite art, a pattern of the moon, the cherry blossoms and a ripple through it all.
Toji was an excellent artist but he never had to work with a raging boner before. His pants were bursting to the sight in front of him, you in a relaxed state ready to be marked. Almost a dream.
“Are you sure baby?”
“Yes. But one thing before that.”
“Hm?”
“Can you kiss me Toji?”
That was the last straw and before you could even say anything, Toji was at your lips, grabbing you by the back of your head and devouring you. You deserved slow and gentle and Toji swore to himself he would take all his time with you, but not at this moment.
Months worth of pent up lust and more so, love and the result of it, was kisses that took your breath away. Nipping away at your lower lip gently, as you opened your mouth he plunged his warm tongue into you, making you moan in ecstacy.
“Hmpph— To..jii..hm!” “Gosh baby do you know how many times I have dreamt of doing this to you huh? Your luscious fucking lips that you keep tinting up with that gloss..fuck..”
Littering kisses all around your neck, under your ears, licking across your collar bones, your whimpers were honey to his ears. Slowly wrapping your hands around his nape, you whispered to his lips
“Take me Toji. Make me yours, please.”
That was all you had to say.
Kissing you harder than ever, Toji grabbed your waist. “Turned around for me baby. Let me take care of you” with your back arching and on all fours on his chair, he ripped at your panties. You were a dripping mess and Toji was so close to coming in his pants like a fucking teenager.
“Toji..wait…it’s messy down there..stop—“
“Tell me girl. Did that fucker ever eat you out?” He asked venomously, slowly slipping in a finger into your sopping hole
“No-ughmm!!- he said it was too dir..ty..” his finger was so different from yours. Long and thick. If a finger alone was so delicious, you were sure you woud go crazy once his cock was in you.
“Proved himself to be a fucking moron once again. Well, you are all mine now. So let me treat your delicious cunt the right way baby yea?”
“Hmm—ahh!!” Dipping his face into your wet folds and antogonizingly licking up along them, eating you out from the back was Toji’s personal heaven. His nose bumping right into your sensitive clit and making you wetter by the second and now 2 of his fingers in your cunt, prodding you in all the right places sending shudders down your spine.
“Ride my face baby. Find your rhythm and make yourself feel good” Toji said and as he literally sucked and slurped at your folds and clit like a man starved. Spitting and licking and slightly pinching on your clit, in a few minutes, you were seeing stars that would normally take you so long.
“I’m cominggg Toji—!!!” Crying out and slumping over the chair.
Toji couldn’t get enough of you though. Marking you all over your back, letting red bruises blossom like petals, leaving you a sputtering mess.
He needed more. He needed you to cry his name out. Turning you around, he latched his lips onto your breast this time with a finger brushing on your clit lightly.
The wet muscle languidly brushing over your sensitive buds, teasing and biting and soothing it up again, you were so lost in pleasure, sure you would come from his attention to your breast alone.
“Faster toji..please..” “On your clit baby? Like this?” His gentle brushes had now turned into precise strokes and never in recent times had your dreamt of coming twice so quickly.
“Ahh!! Fuck!! Just like….that..I can’t! M gonna——cum..”
“Come for me good girl, let it all out… there ya go” and with the knot uncoiling, you came harder than ever.
“Such a good fucking girl for me” he whispered sinfully as he locked your lips in a gentle peck, making you ride out your high.
Little did Toji know that his sweet girl was minx in bed, all ready with her cunt clenching around for his cock. And he was all ready to give her the entire world, and of course his cock too.
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A/N: everytime I wrote Zack my brain kept going ‘gongaga’ send help.
A/N: just edited it a lil bit I’m so sorry for the all the typos 😭
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wttcsms ¡ 8 months ago
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angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;
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pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k  synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3
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Don’t do it.
He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)
He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.
(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.
And he does.
Every. Single. Time.)
For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.
(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.
After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)
The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.
As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.
Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.
Don’t do it.
He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes. 
The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.
“Move.”
It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.
“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.
School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.
The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.
For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.
And they’re not wrong, anyway.
(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)
Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.
Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.
(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)
No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.
And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.
“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.
(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)
“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.
He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.
Little boy.
He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.
“Leave him alone.”
Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.
Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.
He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.
You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.
All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.
“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”
The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.
“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.
“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.
Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.
But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.
“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”
“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”
“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”
The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.
After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.
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You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.
“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”
It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.
Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.
“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.
“We’re not friends.”
“Too late. I told my dad we were.”
There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.
You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.
“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.
“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?
“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”
“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.
(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”
Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)
People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.
(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)
“Hmm. Okay.”
But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.
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The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.
You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.
“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.
“What’s this for?”
“For you to eat, silly.”
“...How much?”
“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.
“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”
“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.
Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)
“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”
He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.
“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”
Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.
Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.
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“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”
“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”
“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.
No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.
“And yet, you’re still always here.”
You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.
(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.
Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.
Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.
“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”
You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.
You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.
“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.
If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.
Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)
You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.
(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.
“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.
“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.
“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”
“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?
“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”
“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”
The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.
“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.
“Are you sure about that?”
You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.
“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.
You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.
For your words to be true.)
You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.
So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.
He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.
(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”
“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.
“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)
It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.
Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.
Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.
It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.
Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.
Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.
“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.
“No.”
You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.
“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.
“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.
It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.
“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”
“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.
“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.
(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)
There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.
You like Megumi. 
Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.
And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.
It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.
It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.
Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.
He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?
Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.
Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.
Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.
You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.
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gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now
Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.
You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.
Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.
He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.
Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…
Do you hate him now?
It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.
He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.
If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.
You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.
He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.
“Ow, man, what the fuc—”
“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.
“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”
Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.
He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.
He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.
It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.
The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.
The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.
It’s locked. 
His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.
Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away. 
He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.
It’s a phone ringing.
He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”
Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.
The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.
“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”
He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.
The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.
It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.
The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.
“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.
Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.
The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.
Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.
“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.
As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now? 
You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.
The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.
The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.
It’s only a matter of time.
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You’re too good to be true.
You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.
“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.
You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.
“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.
Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.
“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.
“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.
You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.
“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.
“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.
“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that?  I could fuck you forever.”
His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.
“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.
There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy.” 
Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.
He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.
“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”
“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.
“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.
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“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”
He’s silent for a minute.
“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.
You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”
Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.
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Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.
Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.
He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.
And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.
Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.
Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?
It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.
He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.
Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.
Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.
“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”
“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”
“So then why do you have to go look for it?”
“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”
At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.
From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.
Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.
Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—
—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.
In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro’s world crumbles to ashes.
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thestarrynightslover ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Discreet Not Detached
Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader
Word count: 1,397
Warnings: None, really.
Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.
A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!
(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)
| masterlist |
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Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…
It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.
As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”
“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”
“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 
“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.
“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.
“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”
“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.
“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”
“That bad, huh?”
“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”
“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.
Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.
“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.
Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.
“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.
“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”
“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.
Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.
As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.
“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 
As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.
“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.
“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”
“Funny. But that’s actually-”
“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”
“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.
“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.
“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.
Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.
“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”
“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”
“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”
“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”
“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.
“But do Jessica and Donna know?”
“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”
“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”
“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”
“But-”
“Mike. Now!”
“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 
“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.
And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.                                                                 
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sylveon-official ¡ 9 months ago
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thoughts on angel's heartbreak
viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo
i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.
we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"
i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.
so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.
husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.
the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.
that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"
"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"
"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"
angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"
"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"
angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...
"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.
"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"
"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.
husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.
"angel, wait-"
"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.
then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.
this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.
i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.
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celestie0 ¡ 1 month ago
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hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.
i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)
but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics
that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc
but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”
not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone
i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention
but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.
anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others
i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)
i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.
hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love
- ellie
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g1rld1ary ¡ 9 months ago
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you never disappointed me - part two
part one part two part three part four
➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)
➻ word count: 3462
➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos
➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!
TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull
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It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.
“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.
“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.
“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”
“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?
“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”
“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.
“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!
“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.
“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.
Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.
“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”
When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.
“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.
“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.
“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.
“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.
“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.
“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.
“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.
“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.
You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.
You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.
You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.
“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.
“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.
“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?
“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.
“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.
“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.
“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.
“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.
“Well, I’m not.”
“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.
“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.
“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).
“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.
“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.
“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.
“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.
“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.
Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.
“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?
“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.
“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.
“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”
“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.
“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.
“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.
Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.
Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.
“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.
“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.
“And why would you do that?”
“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”
“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.
“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.
“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”
“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.
“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.
“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”
“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”
“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.
“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”
“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.
Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.
“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.
“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”
“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”
“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.
“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.
“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.
As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.
“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.
“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.
“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.
“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.
“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.
“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.
“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.
“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).
“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.
“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.
“Ha! You wish.”
“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”
“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.
Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.
Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.
part three
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sycamorelibrary754 ¡ 1 year ago
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We're a Family
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Summary: You and Natasha are taking your first vacation since the birth of your 5-year-old daughter. While you and Natasha are off on a romantic getaway to Paris for your anniversary, how will your Avengers family handle watching your daughter for the weekend?
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Romance
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: Some mentions of grief.
A/N: Thank you so much for the positive feedback on Come Home to Me! I hope to keep writing as I feel inspired and have time. This story takes place after the events of Endgame. Tony survived defeating Thanos with the Snap, and Steve brought Natasha back after returning the Soul Stone to Vormir.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Natasha questioned for the third time that Friday morning as you gathered the last essentials for your 5-year-old daughter to take to the Avengers Compound. You and Nat were taking your first vacation together since your child's birth in celebration of your wedding anniversary. Understandably, your wife was struggling with the idea of leaving your daughter. It was all you could do to convince Natasha to drop her off at preschool, let alone leave her overnight. 
“Love, we’ve talked about this. It’s only for the weekend. Mila is going to have a great time. Besides, there is nowhere safer for her than surrounded by Avengers. You trust them with your life”, you remind her reassuringly as you rub gentle circles on her back.
“Exactly. My life, not my child,” Nat muttered.
It had been five years since you gave birth to your and Natasha’s daughter. Your whole world changed from the moment you both laid eyes on her. Soon after, Nat transitioned into semi-retirement with guidance from Clint. She was still available for consultation and recruit training or if the situation was dire, but you and Mila are her number one priority now.
You heard little feet padding down the hall as your daughter entered your bedroom. Her red curls bounced up and down on her head. “I'm ready, Mommy and Mama!” Mila squealed. 
“Oh, Moya Lyubov, you look so pretty! Did you dress yourself this morning?” Natasha asked, getting down to her level.  
“Yes! I wanted to match Auntie Yelena!” as she showed off her mini black vest that Yelena made her for her last birthday, worn expertly over her pink tutu. 
“Auntie Yelena is going to love it, sweetheart. You’re going to have so much fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” hugging her tight.
After packing your luggage in the car, you drive to the compound. FRIDAY greets you as you exit the main elevator. “Good morning, Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Y/L/N.” The team is awaiting your arrival in the common room.”
“Thank you, FRIDAY,” you replied as Mila let go of Natasha’s hand and ran ahead of both of you, having been here several times already in her young life.
As you enter the room, you see Wanda and Vision in the kitchen, and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air. Peter and Kate are playing video games, Bucky and Sam are playing cards with Clint, and Steve is quietly reading Moby Dick. 
“Little spider!” Yelena called out as she entered the room, and Mila ran into her arms.  
“Auntie Yelena! Do you like my outfit? I got dressed all by myself!” 
“I love it, malayshka. It's so much cooler than Mama’s outfit,” Yelena says as she side-eyes her older sister with a smile. “We are going to have so much fun this weekend.”
“Yeah, about that,” Natasha interrupted. “Mission briefing in five.”
Mission briefing?" you asked, confused. "Love, we're going on vacation, not a stakeout.”
“Yes, but they have the most important mission of all, watching our daughter,” motioning to the group before you.
Your heart warms at how protective your wife was—the Black Widow. She was a woman who would run into a collapsing building or intercept an alien invasion without batting an eye, but the moment she became a mother, everything changed. She vowed to give Mila everything she never had as a child. To break the cycle of uncertainty and pain that the Red Room forced upon her. Truthfully, you were so proud of how far Natasha had come. From growing up believing love was for children to giving nothing but love to both of you. 
Just then, Tony and Bruce entered the living room, arguing over their latest nanotech calculations, with Pepper following closely behind. 
“Hey, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, park it,” Natasha declared. 
“Ah, Rushman, wonderful to see you as always,” Tony says, winking at Nat. She rolled her eyes in response as Tony and Bruce hugged you before sitting down, and Pepper picked up your daughter.
“Come on sweetie, do you want to go play with Morgan?” Pepper asked.
“Yay!” Mila cheered as they walk down the hall to Morgan’s room.
“Okay, here are some quick dos and don’ts for this weekend. No guns, no repulsor rays, no arrows, and no using our daughter as a beta test subject for any new experiments. When Thor gets here, no Asgardian beverages in front of our child. Mila’s bedtime is 7 pm, and she likes it if you do the characters' voices when you read her bedtime story. If she has trouble falling asleep, a lullaby usually does the trick. Got it?”
“Geez, this is almost as bad as Budapest,” Clint whispered to Kate.
“It’s going to be alright, Natasha,” Wanda reassured. “We’re a family. You know we would do anything for that little girl. Please, go and enjoy your anniversary. No one deserves some special alone time more than you two”, Wanda says as she hands you a tin of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for the trip. 
You put your arm around Natasha and kiss her cheek. “Wanda is right, my love. Mila will be fine.” 
Just as you complete the sentence, Mila runs back into the room. “Mommy, Mama! Morgan has Puss and Boots: The Last Wish, and we will watch it tonight before bedtime.” 
“That sounds like so much fun, sweetheart! I know you will be a good girl for your aunts and uncles, and Mommy and Mama will see you on Sunday night, okay? We love you so much.” you said. 
“Okay, Mommy. I love you!” She said as she hugged you so tight. Natasha knelt to kiss your daughter on the cheek and squeezed her hand three times. Their unique way of saying I love you. After one last hug and kiss, you walk to the Quinjet. Tony had offered one for easy and convenient travel. 
*^~^*
By the time you arrive at your hotel in Paris, it’s almost dinner time. After sightseeing, you two enjoyed a gourmet candlelit dinner under the Parisian moon and a romantic stroll under the stars. When you returned to your room, you received a text message from Clint with a photo of your daughter asleep on her bed—lovingly cuddled under a blanket with Yelena. 
“See, she’s okay,” you said lovingly as Natasha smiled at the picture of her little girl and her little sister.
As you lay in bed that night, you feel more grateful than ever to be here with the love of your life. Both of you had learned firsthand to never take anything for granted.
You were one of the lost souls left behind after the Blip. Struggling with the loss of your loved ones, you began attending Steve’s Brooklyn Support Group once a week. It was after one of those meetings that you were first introduced to the Black Widow. 
Natasha hesitated at first to let anyone in. She was too scared to lose anyone else and was convinced that nothing should take away from her commitment to bring everyone back. However, she still found any excuse to attend Steve’s meetings. Whether that was to bring homemade peanut butter sandwiches for the snack table or shyly offering to give you a ride home. 
You weren’t a hero or a super soldier. You didn’t remind Natasha of the guilt she carried over the last five years as the fallout from the Blip continued. You were just yourself, which Natasha loved the most about you. You began to visit her at the compound, and slowly but surely, the walls came down for both of you. 
When she told you about the Time Heist, you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t comprehend the thought of losing Natasha, but you knew she believed in her heart that she owed it to everyone they had lost to try. When Clint returned from Vormir alone and dropped to his knees, so did you. Grief overtook you all over again.
As the Battle for Earth became inevitable, the team hid you in a safe house off the grid. Days went by and you lost track of time, stuck in your grief and unaware of what was happening. It wasn't until a knock on your door awoke you in the middle of the night that you dropped to your knees again. This time in shock at the sight of Natasha on your doorstep. Tears streaming down her face, she told you they had won. Tony defeated Thanos with the Snap, and Steve performed a miracle by bringing her back upon returning the Soul Stone to Vormir. 
So much life has happened since then. You were married in a beautiful autumnal ceremony shortly after Nat returned and bought your house. Five years ago and twelve hours of labor later, you welcomed your daughter into the world that your wife sacrificed herself to save. You couldn’t believe how much you loved them both. Returning to the present moment, you gently move a strand of Natasha’s unbraided red hair away from her face. Her hands move effortlessly to the nape of your neck, and you lose yourself in her touch.
*^~^*
It’s Saturday morning back at the compound, and Mila is eating blueberry pancakes when Clint strolled in from his morning workout. 
“Hey, squirt! Those pancakes look amazing. Did Auntie Wanda make those?” he asked, reaching for the extra plate of pancakes on the counter. 
Before Mila can respond, the plate glides quickly away from him, enveloped in Wanda’s red magic. “Auntie Wanda did make those, but they’re only for adorable little girls named Mila. Is your name Mila?” Wanda said to Clint with a raised eyebrow.
“No,” Clint grumbled.
“Then make your breakfast, Hawkeye,” Wanda sighed, patting him on the back. 
After breakfast, Sam and Bucky take Mila outside to play. Meanwhile, Steve is working on a mission report in his room when FRIDAY interrupts his concentration. “Mr. Rogers, I’m picking up an elevated heat signature from your shield just north of your location.” Steve looked curiously out the window to see Mila giggling as she slid across the grass. She is sitting on his overturned shield, pulled by a rope tied to the back of Red Wing. 
“My shield is not a toy!” Steve yelled out the window. 
“Oh, hey, Cap! It does make a great sled, doesn’t it?” Bucky answered, pretending not to hear what his best friend said, as Sam laughed out loud. 
Steve shakes his head to hide his smile. You meant the world to him, having spent countless hours processing your grief together in that dark and dank recreation room in Brooklyn. He was honored when you and Natasha asked him to be Mila’s godfather. His shield was made from Vibranium, after all. If his goddaughter wanted to play with it, he knew no harm would be done. 
That afternoon, Peter arrived at the compound to work on his newest suit upgrade with Tony. Mila is engrossed in coloring at the kitchen table with Auntie Kate when Peter walks in to get a soda. 
“Hey Mila, what are you up to?”
“Coloring, do you want to help us?” Mila asked happily. 
Peter nodded, and they got lost in her Disney Princess coloring book for the next twenty minutes. After adding pretty sparkles to Elsa’s Frozen dress, Mila noticed Peter’s Spider-Man suit sticking out of his bag. 
“Pretty!” Mila said with wide eyes.
“You like it?” Peter asked.
“Yes, is this how you fly? Mama says you can fly!” Mila exclaimed. 
“Something like that,” Peter chuckled and tousled her hair. 
Down in the lab, Tony had been waiting for Peter to arrive for half an hour. Unusual, as his protege was typically annoyingly punctual. Running out of patience, Tony asks FRIDAY for Peter’s current location.
“Mr. Parker is in the kitchen with Ms. Bishop and the young Ms. Romanoff, sir.” Tony rolls his eyes as he trudged up the stairs.
“Hey Hawkette, have you seen Peter? He was supposed to — “
Tony stops as he sees Peter swinging from the ceiling with Mila on his back. Kate was too busy filming the spectacle on her phone to notice Tony standing there. 
“Wee!! Faster, Uncle Peter!” Mila shouted as Peter’s web carried them across the room to the top of the bookcase. 
Tony’s eyes follow the pair around the room. He put on his best poker face, “I won’t tell Romanoff or her better half, but if you break it, you pay for it. That includes the kid.” Tony warned.
“Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” Peter gives Tony a thumbs up. 
“And for God’s sake, at least put some pillows down on the floor!” Tony hollered as he walked back to his lab. 
*^~^*
You and Natasha took a Saturday evening cruise down the Seine River in the city of love. It was magical. When your phone alerted you to an incoming FaceTime from Carol, you had seen the Musée d’Orsay the Notre Dame Cathedral and had just reached the top of the Eiffel Tower. You swiped, her face appearing on the screen.
“Hey, you two, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be on Earth-616 tomorrow for a meeting with Fury and thought I’d drop in on my favorite couple. Wait, where are you?” 
“Paris, for our anniversary! Our first vacation alone in over five years. Can you believe it?” you said giddily as Natasha put her arms around your waist and lovingly kissed your cheek. 
“Wow, that’s wonderful! Where’s your little mini-me?” Carol asked.
“With the team if you’re going there anyway, could you just make sure that everything is good with Mila?” Natasha inquired. 
“Of course. You know you never have to ask.”
“Thank you, Carol,” you gratefully respond. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, so I’m sure we’ll see you then.” Carol gave you a mock salute before you ended the call and put your phone back in your coat pocket. 
“You look so beautiful, dorogaya. After all this time, I still can't believe you’re mine.” Nat waxed poetically as she removed her scarf and wrapped it around your neck. Natasha could not look more beautiful in the glow of the Eiffel Tower. You decided this is the perfect moment to give her your anniversary gift. You slowly hand her the red velvet box you had snuck into your satchel. Her green eyes went wide at the sight of it.
“Detka! We said no gifts this year. This trip is gift enough,” Nat facetiously scolded.
“I know, but I still wanted to do something special for you,” you said sheepishly. 
Natasha opens the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold heart locket necklace. Upon opening the pendant, she is greeted by a candid photo of all three of you. Clint took one during your last visit with his family in Iowa. Nat was sitting on Clint’s front porch with a smiling Mila on her lap. You are leaning behind her with your arms wrapped lovingly around her neck. It quickly became one of your favorite photos of your small yet precious family. 
“This is so beautiful, Moya Lyubov. Can you put it on me?”
You moved Natasha’s braid away from her neck and clasped the necklace in the back. The heart locket fell directly on top of her own heart. It looked perfect on her. You're not sure who leaned in first, but your lips met in a kiss that made your stomach flutter like it was the first time. You couldn’t be happier than you were at that moment. 
*^~^*
The Sunday morning sun was slowly breaking through the compound windows. Yelena was pouring your daughter a bowl of Cheerios and singing along to the sound of American Pie from her phone when The God of Thunder entered through the Bifrost. Mila jumped and started to hide behind her Auntie Yelena but ran toward him when she realized only her Uncle Thor was materializing before them, leaving his trademark on Pepper’s Persian rug. 
“Must you do that every time? You’re becoming more of a poser than my sister.” Yelena remarked. 
“Of course,” Thor said nonchalantly. “It is the only entrance fit for the God of Thunder.”
He lifted Mila with one arm, “Odin’s Beard! You’ve gotten so big since I last saw you, Mila,” Thor declared
“I know! Did you bring me a present Uncle Thor?” Mila squealed. 
“Yes! Now, let’s see here… Asgardian Ale, Mead, no… ah, here it is!” He handed the little girl a small snow globe set in gold with her name engraved elegantly on the base.
“Wow. Pretty snow globe….” Mila whispered. 
“It is indeed,” Thor said, sitting cross-legged on the carpet before the little girl. “This is a special Asgardian snow globe. Look, see the rainbow bridge inside it?” He pointed. “Most importantly, Lady Mila, if you shake it, I shall be there in a flash. If ever you need me, I will be there.”
“Thank you, Uncle Thor!” Mila said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. I’m going to show it to my Teddy Bear!” Running to her bedroom. 
“You spoil her, you know,” Yelena stated with a smirk, as she began to clean up the kitchen. 
“I know, but she is such a grand example of goodness and joy in such a tiny human. She deserves the world.” Thor declared.
Carol arrived shortly after lunch. After a short meeting with Fury in the conference room regarding upcoming mission targets, she finds your daughter in the compound courtyard. She is wearing her vest to match her favorite auntie as Yelena demonstrates the newest tricks Fanny has learned.
“Roll over! Good girl, Fanny!” Yelena praised the dog. Mila takes a treat out of her vest pockets with her tiny hand and tosses it to the Akita.
“Well done, Mila! Before you go home tonight, I will show you what else you can hide inside those pockets,” winking at her niece. 
“Fruits and veggies, right, Yelena?” Carol deadpanned as Mila ran over and jumped into Captain Marvel’s arms. 
“Auntie Carol! When did you get here?” Your daughter giggled. 
“Just a little bit ago. I talked to your Mommy and Mama last night. They miss you and can’t wait to see you when they get home tonight,” Carol shared before kissing your daughter on the cheek.
*^~^*
As the sun started to sink on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the ancient city of Paris, you found yourself immersed in the rich history of the Louvre museum. You had eagerly anticipated this moment, and after spending the afternoon exploring the countless treasures within the museum's walls, Natasha was determined to ensure you had the chance to lay eyes on the iconic Mona Lisa. As you weaved your way through the bustling crowd of tourists, Natasha's determined presence caused a path to effortlessly clear before you as she kindly asked them to move the fuck over.
You returned to your hotel and enjoyed a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries when Natasha’s phone dinged. 
Carol: Hey, lovebirds. It's all good here. Mila is doing great and excited to see you when you return. However, you may want to check her vest pockets when you get home for some “special” presents courtesy of Auntie Yelena. 😘
Natasha giggled, showing you the text. 
“The important thing is that they’re bonding,” placing a delicate kiss on her temple. 
Following Wanda’s delicious Chicken Paprikash dinner, your daughter watched Frozen II. Vision attempted to explain the science behind snowflakes to her when Tony strolled into the lounge.
“Hey, kiddo, do you want to come to the lab with me and see the new suit modifications that the Jolly Green Giant and I are working on?”
“Yay!” Mila said excitedly, jumping up and down.
“Sir, Ms. Romanoff indicated there was to be no experimenting with young Ms. Mila while she is in our care.”
“Relax, chrome dome. We’re just looking at the new holographic mockup.” Picking up Mila and carried her to his lab. 
*^~^*
After a few hours, Natasha gracefully guided the Quinjet to a smooth landing. As the engines powered down, she took a deep breath and gently reached across the console to grasp your hand. Together, you gazed out at the glittering lights of the team living quarters in the distance.
"Thank you for making our anniversary so wonderful," you said. "I love you so much. I know it was tough for you to leave Mila for three days, but not only did we have a beautiful anniversary, but our daughter got to spend meaningful time with her family, which she will always remember." You pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Natasha caressed your cheek.
You were right, dorogaya. This was perfect. I’m sorry I was so nervous about leaving her. I just never thought I would have my happily ever after. That little girl and you are my everything. It breaks my heart every time I leave either one of you.
“I know, my love,” you said quietly. “Now, let’s go get our daughter and go home.”
As you entered the compound, the air was filled with shouting and the excited barking of Fanny and Lucky. Natasha instinctively reached for her spare Widow Bites, but before she could react, both of you heard the unmistakable sound of your daughter's laughter. Following the noise, you entered the common room to find your daughter joyfully running through the compound. She was wearing her pajamas and had one of Tony’s Iron Man helmets perched on her head while clutching a can of whipped cream. Yelena and the rest of the team were in hot pursuit, with puffs of whipped cream trailing behind her as she raced through the room.
Kate skidded to a stop in front of both of you. “Oh, you guys are back. Awesome! Umm, we made ice cream sundaes for dessert. Mila enjoyed hers, as you can see”, Kate motioned, breathing heavily.
Mila took her last lap around the couch when she caught sight of you and Natasha. 
“Mommy, Mama! You’re here!!” she squealed, running into Natasha’s arms. 
“Hi, Moya Lyubov, we missed you so much!!” Natasha said as she wrapped Mila in a big hug before passing her to you to do the same. 
“It looks like you had fun with your aunts and uncles this weekend,” removing the helmet and brush a red curl away from her eyes. 
“I had so much fun, Mommy! I got to eat yummy food, ride a sled, fly, and Auntie Yelena helped me hide special treasures in my vest pockets. Oh, and I got a magic snow globe with my name on it!” Your daughter rambled happily. 
Natasha looked at you slightly skeptical, wondering if your sweet little girl was exaggerating. With your family, you were never quite sure. 
“Wow, that sounds amazing, kotyonok!” Are you ready to go home now?” Nat asked as Mila gives you her best puppy dog eyes. 
“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll come back and see everyone next weekend. Why don’t you go get your Teddy bear?” you suggested.
“I’ll help her with her things,” Yelena said, scooping up your daughter and walking to her bedroom. 
“We can’t thank all of you enough for taking such good care of her. I know she would stay here forever if we let her.” You said as you move through the group hugging every one. 
She is always welcome here, you two know that.” Wanda said, confident she was speaking for the entire team. 
A short while later, Mila emerged with her unicorn backpack, followed by Yelena, carrying more bags than she had when you dropped her off. You couldn't help but shake your head, knowing the team had showered her with gifts. Natasha crouched down to Mila’s eye level, tenderly placing her hand on her back. “Can you say goodbye and thank you to all of your aunts and uncles, dorogaya?” she asked. Mila made her way around the room, hugging everyone. It warmed Natasha to witness her family showering your daughter with so much love and affection.
Mila drifted off to sleep only five minutes after being placed in her car seat. Upon returning home, Natasha carried her to her bed with the utmost care. She tenderly laid Mila down, ensuring she was tucked in snugly, and then, both of you gently kissed her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. You decided to postpone the unpacking until the following day, feeling too exhausted from the long journey. In the bedroom, Natasha was sitting in bed, engrossed in a book with her reading glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. The day's fatigue faded as you turned off the bathroom light and joined her in bed.
“I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic anniversary, my love,” you admitted as you carefully removed her glasses from her face and gently kissed her lips. “But there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with you and our beautiful daughter.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Nat said, returning the kiss. 
As Natasha drifted into slumber, her mind wandered back to the tumultuous path that had brought her to this moment. She couldn't escape the memories of her past—a life of manipulation in the Red Room with no autonomy and the unending pursuit to cleanse her conscience of the bloodstains it bore. But then came the shot that Clint didn't take and the chance that Fury did. Her deeply unconventional yet cherished family culminated in the arrival of you and your precious daughter. In these precious bonds, Natasha Romanoff found the strength to thrive and, at long last, find peace.
908 notes ¡ View notes
verysanebsdfan ¡ 5 months ago
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HIIII!!
So I'm not sure if you still write for killua or ciel or tokito😭 but if you do could you do some headcanoes of how they would be with a reader fem If possible that basically acts like a doll looks like a doll and basically is a doll but where also kinda creepy like we talk about disturbing things all with a smile on our face
Another one with all 3 is that reader is very VERY clingy like she loves to hug, cling,and talk to the 3 she's always around them and usually talks to them and is always seen with them !!
(sorry if it's to many)
HII!!
It is no problem whatsoever>_< TY SM FOR REQUESTING AS WELL! i hope it will be to your liking :3
Also i still do write for them but i dont think i will do for too long :(( im getting old...(for them)
tw: u say disturbing things, gore mentioned (sorta i think?), Muichiro one is angsty because i felt evil, spoilers for demon slayer manga ahead!!
our!Ciel Phantomhive, Tokito Muichiro, Killua Zoldyck (separate) x doll-like!reader
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Ciel Phantomhive:
One thing would be the engagement with Lizzy, so for the sake of this, lets say it was canceled for....reasons
Neither of you really remember how you exactly met and got close, or what got Ciel so captivated. It may be the way you dress, always in a pretty dress, which contrasts with your beautiful skin, or maybe the way you walk, talk...he is just down bad.
After you got closer, Ciel let you be more clingy, but when he needs space, you need to respect that, or he will have Sebastian take you away (carefully to not hurt you)
After some time, Ciel actually confesses, and you get engaged cuz....it is still 19th century so...
Now, you basically live there and the servants LOVE you. When Finny is doing his work in the garden, and you sit there and have a tea with Ciel, you look like a pretty painting >_< Thats what he says at least (everyone agrees tho)
When you got to know the...darker side of Ciels business, and all the stuff he does as the queens watchdog, well...you revealed your darker side too i guess
Whenever he tells you about all he did, you always say really disturbing things, and not only him, but also Sebastian loves that >_<
"Hmm *head tilt* I think you should have slowly removed his finger nails, toe nails, and then move onto the fingers...keep them alive tho....then peel off their skin and rub salt into it- ah but thats just an idea!! (*✧×✧*)"
(˘ŏ_ŏ) "what did you just say (name)?"
well!!
Once Lizzy came over for whatever reason she had, and dressed you up, telling you that you look like a doll, no! even better!
Now imagine Ciel coming from wherever he was, and seeing you, his beautiful finacĂŠ getting dressed up as a doll, while staring into the space.
However you quickly notice him and attempt to kill him- urm hug him and start talking about your day
Overally really good, has his moments but Sebastian always helps him get better so he doesnt hurt you, emotionally i mean. After all, with him by your side, nothing can happen...
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Tokito Muichiro:
Being a demon slayer is never easy, but when having someone you love by your side, it seems much easier!
When he met you on one of his missions, he thought you were a demon! There was no way a human can be this pretty, and creepy at the same time.
The way you look...empty, without soul, is really weird. The way you move, almost doll like. Thats it! You're a doll!...No that isnt right...no matter
You slay the demon, and then go eat together, because food is superior.
And then again. and again. again.
Until he developed feelings for you.
He didnt really tell you, but there were signs, you unfortunately never noticed them.
When you hug him, he blushes, and when you talk and yap about your day, he makes sure to keep every detail in mind, so he can write it up later.
He has a WHOLE NOTEBOOK dedicated to facts about you, so he doesnt forget.
His favourite part of his notebook are your quotes.
"Hey...Mui...after we kill Muzan, lets live a quiet life, together, okay?"
*to a demon* "if i didnt need to cut your head quickly, i would torture you, slowly, painfully...and then, id leave you exposed to the sun...so you can have a taste of what normal humans see. And then we will go to eat, right Mui?"
"Muii! This dango matches your eyes! LOOK LOOK!"
Down bad.
(i dont rlly remember this 100% cuz i read it some time ago, srry about that) When the last mission came, and you were fighting in the Infinity Castle, you didnt see himget hurt so bad, however, on command, you were directed to the chamber. You saw a horrific scene, what most concerned you however, was bleeding Muichiro. On the floor. Hurt.
You run up to him and take him in your arms, then start crying, and succesfully breaking your doll look.
"(Name)...please...I- i love you"
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Killua Zoldyck:
Okay sooo, you two met at the Hunter Exam, in the first phase lets say
Somehow, you caught his interest, not only you are absolutely gorgeous, but youre also drinking Tonpas juice?! No ordinary girl.
He would observe you during the first phase, seeing the elegant way you run, barely tired...and then, Gon would befriend you, and then Killua! so you would be friends >_< (thank you Gon ily)
You would stick by the main group as in any average killua x reader fanfictions >_<
In the third phase, when it was your turn to fight, it took a real turn.
First, Killua wanted to go fight the big, dangerous looking guy instead of you, but when you refused, he hoped you have some tricks up your sleeve.
"Oh That must be a joke, they sent a little girl against me!" the man would say "how about a death match then?"
uh oh-
"hm...i would love that, but if i were to kill you, i dont think i could stop myself from torturing you, but that would take time, and we've been here for some time...hmmm whatever....I accept!" Ready, set, go! *and he is dead*
Kill is down bad now. What was that?! there was no blood at al, no scream, nothing. Just a loud thud. were you also an assassin?
Who knows.
After that, he knows not to mess with you, and not worry...and also, have you seen how you looked?! Great heavens...
So after a lot of bonding (over choco-robots) you were close...and he liked you, especially after you said his mom is probably a robot becuse WHAT.
You talk shit about his family.
Idk probably confesses before you go to the castle wher Meruem was yk? And brushes it off, i mean, there are worse things happening...
After all the blood shed and pain, and suffering, you meet him and Alluka (my babyyy)
Alluka would 100% love you!! So everything is good...sort of...right? RIGHT? Wrong, his mom doesnt like you but who cares about herrr...
Gon is your biggest shipper :3
( ⓛ ω ⓛ *) - u have choco robots :3?
244 notes ¡ View notes
seongclb ¡ 1 year ago
Text
LIKE A MAGNET ! sim jaeyun
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“you’ve called me a lot of things, sim jaeyun, but never have you called me a magnet.”
“not like that! i just meant, we’re not as alike as we think. kinda like a magnet..”
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SYNOPSIS. whereby your academic rival, jake sim, returns after spending a year in australia to come back and restore his place: as top physics student but also your (hopefully) boyfriend.
PAIRING. academic rivals to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, flirty!jake x fmr
GENRE. fluff, light angst.
WARNINGS. cursing, jake being flirty, kissing but not making out.
WORD COUNT. 7512 words
N. finally out yelp i think this is not as good as i wanted it to be but i have to post as promised so pls make sure to give feedback and stuff !! special thanks to mari for beta reading :) i love u pooks
TAGLIST. @sjyuns <3… @dollkis @taejaysmain @dear-hoon @oldjws @jjakey02 @luvistqrzzz @yizhoutv @mrchweeee @darly6n @hoonieluv @ghostiiess @jaeyunsonlyone @en-happiness @loumin908 @tasnim10 @rikisly @samyu01 @ashrocker123 @enhastolemyheart @enhaz1 @viagumi @articxari @vnsux @mersmoon @jungwonderz
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Kicking your shoes off, you step into your house as your mother frantically scours the house for her expensive china plates.
“Mum, what’s going on?” You wonder, looking around at the house and noticing how all your awards and family photos are out. You groaned, this only meant one thing - guests were coming today.
Great, you thought. After a tiring day with your best friends driving you mentally and physically insane, you now had to entertain guests in your own house when all you wanted to do was lay in the comforts of your bed.
“The Sims are back from Australia,” your Mum announces while pushing you up the stairs.
You pause as your heart plummets down your stomach, “What do you mean?”
Your mum chuckles, “The Sims! Don’t tell me you forgot about them already. It’s only been a year.”
“Mother, this has been the best year of my life. Why are they back? Wasn’t Mr Sim, like, settled in his new job? Why are they coming here of all places, too?”
Your mum narrows her eyes at you as your father steps into the room, struggling with his tie, “Ah, Y/n you’re home! You’d better go up and get dressed. The Sims are arriving soon.”
“So, I’ve heard,” you huff. “I know we’re family friends but shouldn’t they settle in their house first? Why are they coming here already?”
“Because,” your dad sighs. “Mr Sim and I have secured a business deal. We’re going to be partners in the firm soon, which is why they’re back. Of course, we have to welcome them with a nice meal.”
You groan and cross your arms, “Isn’t this something you discuss with your daughter first?”
Laughing, your dad pinches your cheek sweetly, “Now, why would this concern you? Go upstairs and get dressed, you must be hungry after practice today.”
It takes every fibre in your being to not stomp up the stairs in defiance. Sim Jaeyun, the cause of your distress throughout your entire school whole life was returning after a blissful year of peace. The mere thought of it made you want to rip every strand of hair out of your head.
Stepping into your room, your eyes immediately set on the expensive dress sitting on your bed that your mum laid out for you. Just as your parents requested, you hopped into the shower to prepare for the dreadful evening ahead. It’s not like you weren’t used to this; your parents worked in especially high fields and earned decent salaries. It was more than normal for them to have these important, yet over the top, dinners every few months meaning you had to dress up like this often. The only issue was him.
You could already hear his irritating giggles from your bedroom. Amazingly, they were the same as you had remembered.
Before you could even take a deep breath, there were soft knocks at your door, “Mum, I’m coming. Thirty seconds.”
There were the knocks again. Rolling your eyes, you swung your door open, ready to ask your mother why she couldn’t wait for thirty seconds, when you saw him leaning on the archway of the door. His lips were curled into that familiar smirk of his, yet Jake looked so different. His hair was much shorter, slicked back slightly but a strand of it falling onto his forehead.
It had only been a year, yet you were more than surprised to see Sim Jaeyun actually looking semi decent.
His eyes are playful as they rake over your figure, checking you out head to toe. The feeling of Jake’s eyes boring into you evoked a sense of insecurity to wash over. Since when did you care about him looking at you?
“Hurry up,” he ruffles your hair as he runs down the stairs. Forgetting about the annoying action he had just done, you pause for a moment; his words replaying in your mind. It seemed that Jake’s looks weren’t the only thing that was different but he had developed a strong Australian accent, too. It wasn’t attractive, though.
No, of course, not. That was impossible, being Jake Sim.
You fix your hair before following him into the living room where his parents are sitting on the couch in your living room.
Mrs Sim smiles at you as you greet her, “Y/n! You’ve grown so much.”
She engulfs you in a tight hug as you giggle, “No, I look the same. You look better than ever, of course.”
She shakes her head as she makes room for you on the couch, “Nonsense, you’ve gotten even prettier just like Jaeyun. He’s gotten so handsome now, right?”
You nod, sending an obvious fake smile towards his direction.
Jake clears his throat as he brings his glass of water to his lips, “Y/n, have you grown any taller since last year?”
You force a polite chuckle, despite wanting to throw your glass at the smile on his lips, “Maybe a few inches.”
Jake nods, pursing his lips to prevent a wider smile from breaking out, “I see.”
He sits opposite you at the dinner table, sending you winks every so often just to get a sneaky middle finger or a dirty look in return when no one was looking.
“Y/n, you’ll have to show Jaeyun around tomorrow,” Your dad says to you.
“I’m sure he knows where everythings been. It’s only been a year,” You smile.
Jake leans over, “I heard there were some changes. I’m afraid I might get late to some of my classes.”
You turn to Jake, “Oh, really? Who said that?”
“Sunghoon,” Jake smirks back at you.
You nod, of course he did. Sunghoon was the little provoker in your feud with Jake; always meddling to give Jake new ideas on how to annoy you. That was clearly one of his duties as Jake’s best friend since he had just given Jake another reason to irk you and follow you around tomorrow.
“So, why can’t he show you around?” You narrow your eyes.
Before Jake can answer, your dad interjects, “It’ll be better for you to do it, Y/n. I’m sure Sunghoon will have practice and other things tomorrow.”
The little shit was smiling way too hard, again. He just gets lucky too often.
The talk quickly turns into business amongst your parents, boring you completely so you use it as a perfect opportunity to excuse yourself to your room until your Mum says, “Why don’t you take Jaeyun to your room?”
Jake’s eyes grow as he smiles mischievously, “Yeah, you can show me what topics you have been covering in Physics. I don’t want to be behind.”
You take another deep breath, it got to the point where every breath now was slow and used to calm you down in order to stop you from lunging at the boy in front of you. He used every opportunity to get you to agree to yet another thing to help him with while your parents were around.
Jake followed you up to your room, standing at the doorway for a moment to look around your room at a different angle before stepping in and tracing his finger over all your trophies and pictures.
“Hey!” He calls, pointing at a particular picture of you with a trophy after winning the Science Fair competition. “We did this together, I’m in this photo. Did you crop me out?”
That day was quite fun, one of the only times that you and Jake had worked together rather than against one another, which was the usual dynamic. That occasion, your father had suggested for you two to work together. Even back then, it had created such dismay for you but you couldn’t deny that he was the reason why you two had won. You didn’t work well under pressured environments, so Jake had picked up the slack and presented most of it but you doubted that he did it for the sake of you. He definitely did it for the mere reason that he wanted to win.
You scoff at the pout on his lips as he picks up the frame, “Obviously. I’d get nightmares with a picture of you in my room.”
Jake touches the picture, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, “You didn’t cut it. You folded it.”
He dismantles the frame, unfolding the picture to reveal a younger version of him, “I was handsome back then, too. Keep it unfolded, you can use it for motivation.”
Fake gagging, you snatch the frame back from him and set it down, “I don’t need motivation. “So, how was Australia?”
Jake shrugs, playing with the Miffy plush that you cuddle to bed every night, “It was fun. Different from here. Better girls.”
You roll your eyes and respond sarcastically, “Sounds wonderful.”
“Jealous? Don’t worry, they didn’t compare to you,” Jake flirts.
“Ew!” Your face contorts in disgust. “Don’t make me throw you out of here, Jaeyun.”
He giggles and goes back to nosily touching all your things. You watch him in silence for a few more minutes, not minding Jake exploring your room. Jake’s parents call him from downstairs, initiating that it was time for him to finally leave.
“This new business deal means I’ll be seeing you more often than you’d like, angel.”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his briefly upon hearing the pet name before he leaves the room. He’s staring at you, searching for a response in your facial expressions but all you can focus on is the luring brown specks in his eyes. The Australian air must have done a number on him; this was not the SIm Jaeyun you knew. Of course, he still used to go out of his way to annoy you before, but the excessive winking and flirting was so unlike him. It was only until you heard him call you ‘angel’ that you realised how different Jake was, now.
You returned down the stairs to bid them goodbye.
“Y/n,” Jake’s father calls. “Jake and I will be here tomorrow morning to pick you up for school. We must repay the favour.”
“What favour?” You question.
Jake’s mother strokes your arm lovingly, and you wonder how a woman so kind can produce that devil staring at you by the door, “We’re so thankful that you’re tutoring Jake every weekend!”
You raise an eyebrow and look at your parents, who suspiciously are avoiding your eyes, “It’s no problem. Is this why Mr Sim is picking me up tomorrow?”
They nod and hug you goodbye, constantly reminding you of their appreciation.
With one last annoyed look towards your parents, you turn on your feet and head up to your room for the night to scream into your pillow about the return of Sim Jaeyun.
୨ৎ
The next morning, at the table while you wait for Jake and his father, you see your own come down the stairs to get ready for his own job.
“Y/n, you and Jake have to go to school alone. Mr Sim sends his apologies, he has a meeting,” Your dad informs you.
You groan softly at the light knocks on the door, knowing it was Sim Jaeyun. “That must be him,” your dad smiles as he opens the door. “Hi, Jaeyun.”
“Good morning, Mr Lee. Is Y/n ready?” Jake asks as he steps into the house and meets your annoyed eyes. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking towards Jake, you say bye to your father and leave the house with him.
“Why did your dad want us to go to school so early?” You huff. Jake smiles down at you, “So we could go get breakfast.”
He flicks his dads bank card in between his fingers, “Wanted me to thank you for that tutor thing. Did you know about that, by the way?”
You shake your head, “Mum and Dad probably knew I would refuse. Did you?”
You look up at him and see he shakes his head, with a proud grin on his face, “Mum and Dad probably knew I would refuse, too.”
You stop and cross your arms at him, “Why would you refuse? I’m the top of the class, you should be honoured.”
Jake snickers, “You’re top of the class because I was in Australia for a year.”
He ruffles your hair before walking off, leaving you to curse at him under your breath.
With a croissant and a coffee in each of your hands, you walk through the school gates with Jake. As expected, all eyes are on him. Everyone knew him; you remembered the way everyone was heartbroken when he announced that he was leaving last year. Apart from you. You were busy bouncing off the walls to celebrate his departure as now, there was no debate about who the top physics student was. You knew it sounded condescending and extremely nerdy, but you worked hard for your grades; the title was deserved.
“I have to go to the principal's office,” Jake tells you.
“Go then,” You shrug. Jake tuts and drags you to the principal's office with him.
You fight off his grip on you, “I thought you didn’t know where anything was.”
Jake rolls his eyes, “Shut up and wait here. We have class together next, anyway.”
Just as you’re about to argue back, you realise that you do in fact have Physics next. Of course, he was in your class.
You sit and eat the breakfast that he bought you while you wait. Not long after, he exits the principal's office with a few books in his fingers.
“What are those?” You ask as you try to reach over and read them, only to have them held over your head and out of your reach.
“Don’t be so nosy,” Jake tuts. “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”
You frown and follow him swiftly.
Jake opens the class door, and all eyes are set on him once again. Your Physics teacher calls him to the front while you rush to your seat at the back, away from all the gazes fixed on him.
Thanking God that your first lesson after the dreadful weekend was Physics was a waste since Jake was momentarily ordered to sit beside you.
“Is there a problem, Y/n?” Your teacher asks following your noises of protest.
You shake your head, not that it mattered to Jake who was already sitting in the seat beside you.
“Thankfully, I got placed next to my tutor. What would I do without you?” Jake drawls with a soft smile on his lips.
“Shut it, Sim,” you groan, snatching your things to your side of the table. “My side. Your side.”
Jake watches you pull out a thin ribbon and place it in the middle of the table.
Towards the end of the lesson, you’re assigned individual worksheet tasks that Jake gets done with smoothly. Unlike you, who is struggling slightly.
It’s not that the work is difficult to understand, but you’ve never been that close to Jake to see his hands. Despite your many attempts to focus on your work, your gaze is teared away from the Physics equations on your sheet and replaced with the sight of Jake’s hands only inches away from your own. In order to control your impulsive thoughts, you have to focus your full attention towards not touching his hands which is driving you absolutely insane.
Jake looks over his shoulder at your sheet, eyes widening slightly, “How are you still on the first question?”
Jolting slightly, you scramble to pick up your pen and mumble sometimes about getting distracted.
Jake bites his lip to prevent a giggle from escaping, “If you need help, you can ask me.”
“I don’t need your help,” You respond and commence with the work.
The bells to announce the end of the lesson go off soon after and you sigh in relief, packing your things instantly in order to get away from that nightmare sitting beside you.
Jake watches you pack up as if he was waiting to say something until Park Sunghoon and Jay Park run into the classroom.
“Jake!” Sunghoon smiles widely, Jay following shortly.
Jake grins, “I didn’t see you two this morning.”
“We had to meet up with the football (soccer) team before school. Join us after school today?” Jay asks.
Jake shakes his head, “Can’t. I have to study with my tutor.”
You dart your eyes over to him, “Not today.”
Sunghoon and Jay break out into fits of laughter.“No way, Y/n has to tutor you. That’s so unfortunate, Y/n,” Jay says to you, and you nod with a frown.
Jake furrows his eyebrows, “What’s so bad about tutoring me?”
“Dude, you don’t even need a tutor. Y/n, I’ve been asking you to tutor me for months now,” Sunghoon follows you around your desk.
“I didn’t have a choice!” You remark. “Our parents arranged it behind our backs.”
Sunghoon smiles, “What? Like an arranged marriage?”
“Ew!” You both said in unison.
Clearing your throat, you look at Jake again, “I’m not tutoring you today. They said weekends. “
You grab your bag and leave the room, rushing to find your best friends. Minji and Jieun are sitting at the usual bench near the football field, snacks laid in their laps as they discuss the precious lesson when you rush towards them.
Their attention immediately turns to you and Minji asks, “Y/n, is it true that Jake’s back?”
You huff and nod, “You’ll never believe it.” And, with that, you start filling them in on all the events that have occurred in far little time that you’d like.
They listen intently as you tell them every single detail since yesterday.
Jieun gasps, “How has this all happened in less than 24 hours?”
You shrug and steal a biscuit from her lap, “Honestly, I’m wondering the same thing. I didn’t even know he would be back 24 hours ago.”
Minji leans forward, “Shit, don’t look. Shit, shit, shit.”
Despite Minji’s request, Jieun turns her head with a car and gasps, too.
“What?” You ask, impatiently, wanting nothing more than to see what they were so intrigued about.
“Jake’s in a football shirt,” Jieun claps her hands together and you roll your eyes, although you turn your head ever so slightly to get a look. You don’t see Jake anywhere.
“Where?” You ask, now looking more closely.
Jieun and Minji giggle beside you and you close your eyes in anger after sudden realisation, “He’s not there, is he?”
“Nope,” Minji chuckles. You lightly shove her with your arm as she continues, “So, Y/n. A crush on Jake, huh?”
“Impossible!” you argue. “I was just looking because you guys were so shocked.”
You cross your arms and stuff your mouth with snacks as your friends stare at you in disbelief, “I do not like Sim Jaeyun.”
୨ৎ
Taking tests were usually anxiety inducing, but with your rival back, it was even worse than usual. Jake helped you separate the table into individual seats for the test, watching the way your fingers drummed on the table; a habit to get rid of the nerves.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you, angel,” He whispers, leaning so close to your ear that you can feel his breath fanning onto your cheek.
“Ugh,” You shove him away. “Are you trying to make me vomit before the test so I can miss it and fail?”
Jake sneers, “As if I need to do something like that. I’ll get higher than you regardless.
“We’ll see about that Aussie boy.”
Jake's eyebrows raise upon the new nickname, his eyes gleaming as he watches you take the test paper into your hand and write your name before starting it. Jake leans back in his chair, twirling his pencil in his fingers before he too starts the test.
The school bells go off, signalling both the end of the school day and the test.
Jake stands behind you as you hand in your paper and exit the classroom.
He taps your shoulder, “Did you finish all the questions?”
You nod, “Yeah, did you?”
“Yeah, but I don't think I did that well. I guess it's good that I’ve got myself a tutor, huh?” Jake giggles beside you.
You almost laugh, instead concealing it with a roll of your eyes, “Lucky you.”
“Be ready for one, tomorrow,” Jake ruffles your hair, earning a smack on the arm from you, which he fake winces at. “You coming to the football game next Monday?”
“No,” You guffaw and watch Jake slip his hands into his pockets.
“Hm, I thought you were. A little birdie told me you were,” Jake shoves his phone into your face, revealing messages from your mother telling him that you would go.
Angrily, you twist Jake’s ear and he yelps, “Ow??? What was that for?”
“Many reasons,” You cross your arms. “You messaged my mum to get me to go to your stupid football game! Why do you even have my mothers number?”
Jake rubs his now pink ear, “She told me to take it for the tutoring sessions since you said no to giving yours. Plus, is it so bad that you’re coming? Your friends are there every day.”
“Yeah, to see the boys they like,” You shrug.
“There’s no one you want to watch play?” Jake asks, slipping his hands back into his pockets.
“I have no interest in watching anyone play.”
Jake hums again, turning his face to the side before clearing his throat, “That’s because no one wants you to watch them.”
You glare at him, “Then, why did you ask my mother to force me to go?”
Scorning, Jake responds, “I didn’t force her. I just mentioned it and she said to make sure you go. Why would I want you there?”
At his words, you feel your heart gain a few bruises but you play it off, “I’m not going.”
“Shut up, Lee. I’ll pick you up at 5 on Monday. Games at 6,” With that, Jake walks off to join his friends. You grab your phone and message your group chat with your friends.
You: It looks like I'm attending my first school football game next week.
Minji: You wanna tell me this isn't because of the Sim boy?
Jieun: LMFAO FR.
You: Dude messaged my mother to get me to go.
Jieun: No fucking way
Minji: Yeah, so when's the wedding?
You: shut up, we don’t like each other.
Minji: 🙄
Jieun: keep telling yourself that. Want us to pick you up?
You: no… he’s picking me up
Minji: act surprised!
Jieun: Suit yourself, I am surprised!
Usually, the weekends are more than enjoyable; being that you can sleep in bed for a few hours longer than usual without feeling like you're rotting away as you’re still up before noon which automatically means you're being productive. This weekend was different; just like every day has been since Jake has arrived back.
This was now yet another time that he’s randomly been in your house as if he lives there, and waiting for you to join him.
“You’re late,” He says, taking a bite of an apple.
“I forgot,” You respond and sit down at the table with your textbooks.
Jake sits beside you, smiling at your pyjamas, “Why are all of them so childish?”
You frown, “They’re not childish. Anyway, focus!”
Tutoring Jake reveals to be harder than you thought. He either gets distracted every few minutes with an odd would you rather question that he needs to hear your response to or he’s bragging about how he doesn’t need these tutoring sessions, and could easily beat you in the upcoming exam.
Two hours fly by ever so slowly, and you’re silently thanking God that it’s over when the time comes.
Slamming your books shut, you spring to your feet with a wide smile plastered over your lips “Well, it’s been lovely but, that’s me done. Goodbye!”
Jake snickers as he watches you disappear up the stairs in a hurry, “See you on Monday!”
Monday flies by faster than you realise, you think as you sit in Physics next to Jake with your head resting in your palm. Monday was always such a mission to get through, but it didn’t help that you had a particularly late night.
“Tired?” Jake asks, sliding over your favourite bottled coffee. Your eyes light up upon seeing it as you accept it with a slightly enthusiastic nod.
“Extremely, staying up watching ‘Criminal Minds' is not a good idea,” You advise before taking a happy swig of the coffee.
Jake laughs, “Thanks for the warning. You’re coming to the game, by the way.”
You roll your eyes, “Is that why you got me a drink?”
Jake hums, “Why else would I do something nice for you?”
You scowl and hand him the coffee back, only for it to be slided back towards you with a disgusted expression on his, “I don’t want it! You already put your mouth on it.”
You sigh, and put it back in your bag, “Asshole.”
“Idiot,” He remarks.
You flick your eyes up and notice the teacher handing out the test papers from the last lesson, “We’ll see who the idiot is.”
The teacher places both yours and Jake's papers down with a smile.
You read the 97 on your paper, tilting it nervously to reveal to him as you wait for his mark.
“96,” He huffs, setting the paper down with a disappointed frown.
You clap your hands together with a wide grin, “I knew it! Sim Jaeyun, you fell off!”
You tease him consistently, singing celebrations in his ear as he places the paper in his bag, smiling at the 98 written on his sheet that he would much rather keep hidden for the sake of you singing gleefully beside him.
Jake swears he’s never seen you so happy; it's almost impossible to keep his smile under control as he watches you in slight fear that the adoration he has for you is emanating more than he would like.
୨ৎ
Your exciting plans to nap immediately after school were destroyed when you heard knocks on the door at exactly four minutes to five pm.
You answer softly, “Come in.”
Expecting one of your parents to walk in, you don’t bother to try and fix your hair or anything so when Jake walks in, you hurry to cover your snoopy pyjamas with your blanket, but judging by the way he snickers, you can tell he’s already seen it.
Jake stands in front of your wardrobe, “Say, Michael B Jordan came into your room and opened your wardrobe. Would there be anything you’d be too shy to show him?”
“No,” You reply, confused. Jake swinging your wardrobe doors open and grabbing a sweater before throwing it at you and walking out of the room was the last thing you had expected. Not to mention that he compared himself to Michael B Jordan, as if you’d care if he had seen your undergarments. Jake, however…
“Ten minutes!” He calls out before closing the door.
You sit in disbelief for a few moments before complying with his demands.
A few moments later, you walk out of the room and hear Jake and your father watching the football game.
“You’re here watching the game when you’re about to play anyway…” You stare at the two, dumfounded.
Jake tilts his head up at you as he gets up, “The game’s too good. Let’s go!”
He says goodbye to your parents and walks you to his car, “We’re kind of early, so you wanna eat something or eat after the game?”
“After the game?” You repeat slowly.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning to run home as soon as the game begins,” Jake runs a hand through his hair.
You stifle a laugh, “I doubt I'd make it before half time.”
Jake laughs, “Alright, let's get going.”
Along the way, Jake plays some songs and you can't help but enjoy the atmosphere. Jake glances her eyes towards you from time to time, fighting the smile that creeps his way onto his face in response to yours.
He can't help but think of how beautiful you look, when you’re not even doing anything remotely significant.
“We’re here,” You say.
“Thanks, Sherlock,” Jake rolls his eyes and gets out of the car. As soon as you open the car door, he pushes you back inside and shuts it. You furrow your eyebrows at him standing by the passenger door.
Jake swiftly opens the car door for you, looking around as you leave the car although it's a struggle to move after a zoo of butterflies started swarming in your stomach from his actions.
“Thanks,” You rub at the nape of your neck as he mutters an ‘its alright’ to you.
The pair of you make your way across the football pitch, Jake greets people as he walks past them while you dodge dirty stares from jealous students. It almost makes you want to laugh; if only they knew how it really was.
To be quite honest, you weren’t sure if you knew either now that you thought about it.
Brushing your thoughts away, you sat down on one of the benches, “I’ll watch from here.”
Jake nods and slings his bag to put next to you, “You’ll watch this, right?”
“Yes,” You huff. “Anything else, kind sir?”
Jake throws his head back as he laughs, “No, madam.”
Before you can look away, Jake removes his top and replaces it with a football jersey. You know you shouldn't, but you can't help it - his abs were literally staring at you in plain sight, so you had to look back at them.
Of course, he notices you staring and tuts, “Didn’t strike me as a pervert, Y/n.”
You gasp, stammering, “You.. You didn't even warn me!”
“Relax, angel. I don’t mind,” He jogs backwards, sending you a few winks before printing off to the rest of his football members.
Just before the game starts, Minji and Jieun run over and join you, already screaming the names of whichever boy they were infatuated with at that current time.
The game proves to be far more interesting as expected and you end up not regretting letting yourself be dragged out of bed by Jake.
You watch intently as Jake dribbles the ball and shoots it directly in the goal. Your adrenaline must have taken over you, since the next thing you know, you’re jumping up and cheering. In the midst of Jake’s celebration around the pitch, he looks over at you with the widest smile he’s ever fathomed. Jieun and Minji share smirks from the side.
By half time, he separates from the rest of his team and runs directly to you.
You hand him a water bottle as he sits beside you, sweat droplets making his skin glow an extra bit.
“I didn’t expect you to cheer for me,” Jake says, smugly.
“I didn’t cheer for you. I cheered for the team,” You correct.
“I didn’t see you get up and cheer like that when Sunghoon scored,” Jake mutters under his breath.
You dart your eyes at him, “You’re lucky I didn’t hear that.”
Jake sits beside you, regaining his strength in the fifteen minute break while you look around at the other members, eyes fixated on one familiar member.
“Oh shit,” You turn around to Jieun and Minji, whose eyes follow your previous gaze and soon replicate your own shocked expression. Jake turns to the three of you, attempting to eavesdrop.
“Is that-”
“Don’t say the name,” You gesture to Jake sitting beside you.
“Woah, woah,” Jake stands up. “Whose name?”
“None of your business,” You snap. “Shouldn’t you go and, like, discuss team plays?”
Jake shakes his head, “Nah, this isn’t a serious game. It’s just a friendly. Who’s the guy?”
Jake nods his head at the guy you were looking at, fury slowly bubbling in his insides.
“He's a relative,” You lie.
“Bullshit,” Jake huffs. “I’ll find out after the game, anyway.”
The guy was Lee Minseok, and he was your first kiss at a party several months earlier. Being a kiss at a party, you don’t even remember it but your friends had informed you of it. He, too, had wanted to reconnect by messaging you on each and every one of your social media accounts for weeks after despite you saying you weren't looking for anything. You’d felt bad, but it was better to leave it as a drunken mistake than leading him on completely. It had also been a shame that he was your first ever kiss, but you were glad you didn’t remember it.
You look at Jieun and Minji again before sitting back down next to Jake, who doesn’t say another word. After a few minutes, he walks off to his members without saying anything. You feel slightly disappointed that he didn’t say one of his flirty remarks, but you don’t pay too much mind.
You continue watching the game, silently cheering whenever Jake scores or does anything remotely notable and you notice how his eyes always turn to you upon doing something well, but again, you don’t think much of it.
It’s only when you notice Minseok slytackling Jake, leading to Jake falling on his back. Soft gasps erupt from the crowd, a way of everyone agreeing that it was far too harsh of a movement. Minseok holds his hand out to apologise, only to be rejected by Jake smacking his hand away and pushing him by the shoulders. It becomes a small brawl, Jay and Sunghoon having to pull Jake away and to the changing rooms. You watch Jake strut over to the changing rooms, a look of rage crossed over his face.
The next thirty minutes of the game go by painfully slow; all you wanted was to know if Jake was alright.
Despite Jieun and Minji’s attempts at trying to get you to go home with them, you wait for Jake, just to find out if he's okay.
It gets dark when you spot Jake walking on the other side of the football field and you call him over, “Jake!”
He turns around and looks at you with a slightly bewildered expression, but waits for you nonetheless.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
“I’m fine,” He mumbles. “Did you ask Minseok if he was, too?”
It was your turn to look at him bewilderedly, “No, I couldn’t care less if he was injured.”
Jake’s lips almost curl into a smile. Almost, if he didn’t hear Sunghoons words replaying in his head. Minseok was your first kiss - he stole your first kiss. The feeling of rage bubbled in Jake’s insides again.
“Anyway, I waited because you promised to get me food,” You grin.
Jake looks away, “I can’t. Dad needs help at home.”
“Oh,” You whisper. “Okay, but you owe me another day.”
Jake nods in agreement, and you wait for that familiar smile to return on his face, but it doesn’t.
“I’m going to get going,” You say.
Again, you wait for him to say something, like offer to drop you off home. But, nothing.
You feel like a fool as you walk away from him, his figure growing smaller and smaller behind you with every step.
The next few days are all similar, there are times where you expect Jake to say something to you around the halls or in Physics, but he doesn’t. You don’t even see him around the house anymore, despite his family being there and them saying that he was busy catching up with schoolwork. That was definitely a lie, you knew him.
Mr Sim calls you to sit with them, smiling at you politely.
“Thank you for tutoring Jaeyun. His grades slipped a bit in Australia but, thanks to you, they’re back to normal,” He grins. “I hope there’s no hard feelings, though.”
“Of course, not. Why would there be?” You return his politeness.
Mr Sim sighs in ease, “Oh, I thought you would be since Jaeyun got 98 on the recent test. Although, it was only a marks difference. You’re seriously wonderful-”
The rest of his words tune out, the only thing you hear is that Jake got higher than you in the test but he lied. Why did he lie?
୨ৎ
Deciding to head over to his house with the lie that you needed to give him some school work was merely impulsive, it was far too late when you realised at his doorstep. You’d spent the last few days laying in the darkness of your room, wondering why he has suddenly switched off his typically playful manner to a foreign, nonchalant version of himself. You even cried to Jieun and Minji about it, who cursed him repeatedly.
Jake opens the door in Spongebob pyjamas to which you cock an eyebrow at, “And you called mine childish.”
“What are you doing here?” Jake asks, helping you into his house. “Do you want something to drink or eat?”
You shake your head and he leans on the wall in front of you as you take a seat.
“So,” Jake stares at you. “What are you doing here?”
You take a long and slow breath, “Why did you lie about your mark in the recent exam?”
Jake steps forward slightly, “How did you-”
You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter. Why did you lie?”
Jake exhales, “I knew it would make you happy.”
You scoff, getting to your feet, “Why on earth do you care if I’m happy?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jake grits his teeth.
“You hate me. You’ve been avoiding me for days, now,” You breathe out.
Jake stares at you blankly, before breaking out into a fit of laughter, “Hate you?”
He inches closer to you until hes standing directly in front of you, “Y/n, I came back here for you.”
“What are you talking about?” You chuckle. “You came back because our parents-”
“No,” Jake interjects. “You think I didn’t beg my father to take that deal? You think my dad doesn’t know how in love with you I am? Y/n, everyone knows but you!”
You shake your head, “This isn’t true.”
“Look, if you don’t like me back, just say so. But, don’t come here and start spewing nonsense. I’ve liked you since that day that we won the Science Fair together. I’ve been in love with you since I left for Australia.”
You look up at him, “No way.”
Jake rolls his eyes and takes your hand, pulling you to his bedroom. He sits you down in his bed while he reaches into a drawer and pulls out a large box.
Jake removes the lid and brings out multiple items that you recognise and some that you don’t.
“This is my Y/n box,” he places it onto your lap. “Have a look.”
Jake holds a few items in his hand, “This is the bracelet I won at a Physics competition in Australia at the beginning. I planned to give it to you. This is a teddy I won at some amusement park. And, this is a letter I wrote on the plane when I realised that I was in love with you. Well, am in love with you.”
Jake continues, “Even my grades, Y/n. They were nothing without you. It’s like you were my only source of motivation, my grades were average towards the end of the year in Australia. My parents and my teachers all blamed it on the move, but I knew. I knew it was because you weren’t there.”
You’re speechless, he kept everything remotely linked to you since you were thirteen. He thought of you in every little thing he did.
“You love me?” You question.
“Yes, Y/n. I’ve been in love with you.”
“But,” You breathe out. “I’m hard to love.”
Your voice is strained, and isn’t far from a whisper. There’s so many things you want to say yet so little words to conform them to the perfect boy sitting in front of you.
He almost guffaws at your words - Jake might have if he didn’t realise just how serious you were. He didn’t understand; what on earth was so hard about loving you? There was nothing.
If only you could see just how effortless it had been, straight from the beginning. The minute he laid eyes on you standing by a handmade rocket, scribbling ideas down on a piece of paper, it was as if the atoms in the universe had created an inseparable bond that tied you two together. It was as if the poles in the universe had drawn together, creating a magnetic field of attraction.
Jake’s eyes twinkle as he leans closer to you, “There is nothing hard about loving you. Loving you is like breathing out oxygen, so if loving you is hard then breathing is, too.”
You flick your eyes up at him again, now only centimetres away from those pink plush lips of his until you close the gap, pulling him into a soft kiss.
“I love you, too, “ You breathe out.
“Really?” Jake gasps. “You’re not just saying that?”
You shake your head, intertwining your fingers, “No, seriously. I do, I didn’t know I did but now.. Now, I know. I came here because you were avoiding me the whole week and I couldn’t bear it.”
Jake giggles, “That’s because I didn’t think you liked me back after that whole situation with Minseok at the football game. I thought it would be better to just leave you alone.”
Jake gently intertwines his fingers with you, a casual action albeit causing your heart to race a million miles per hour.
“So,” he beams, “if you get higher than me in the next Physics exam, I’ll take you out on a date.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, a grin paired on your lips, “And, what if I don’t?”
Jake looks away, thinking for a moment, “Then, you take me on a date.”
“Well, can I give you a kiss first?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him as if he’s ever going to decline that offer
“You don’t need to ask twice,” Jake breathes out, before meeting your lips with a wide grin plastered on his face.
୨ৎ
Seeing Jake knock on your window from outside your house was quite a shock for you, being it was a Sunday evening and you were sorting out your school bag for the next day.
You open your window to let him in with a befuddled expression worn on your face, “What are you doing here? It’s almost 6:30.”
A soft smile is on his lips as he looks at you, and climbs through your window, “I had to see you. Its been so long.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, “I saw you on Friday.”
“That’s far too long, angel.”
You smile as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you in for a warm embrace, he hums as he closes his eyes and rocks your body with his from side to side.
“Why didn’t you use the front door?” You ask him.
Jake nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I’m scared of your father.”
You laugh at his words, “You’ve known the man for years! What’s there to be afraid of?”
He sits down on your bed, playing with your teddy bears, “Well, he’s different with me now that I’m.. dating his daughter.”
“He’s a bit shocked but he’ll get used to it. You can’t expect him to like you if he finds out you’ve been sneaking in through my window, though,” You pinch Jake’s cheek softly.
Jake nods, “I know.” Jake sighs and leans into your touch against his cheek.
“Why don’t you try going back through the front door? You can ask my parents for permission to grab dinner outside, today,” You suggest, pulling his hands up.
You watch Jake’s eyes glint in excitement as he heads back out of the window. Yet, he doesn’t forget to turn around to press a quick kiss on your cheek before he leaves, only to return to be in your house in less than a minute.
Hearing the doorbell ring, you make your way downstairs while fighting the urge to grin upon knowing exactly who was at your door.
You watch your father open the door, seeing Jake, “Hi Jake, what brings you here?”
Jake stammers, “Hello, sir. I mean, Mr Lee… I came to see Y/n.”
You stand beside your father, “Dad, you haven’t even let him in.”
Pulling Jake inside, you frown at your Dad as your Mum joins the three of you.
“Honey, why are you so awkward around Jaeyun now? Weren’t you the one who always wanted him as a son?” Your mum chuckles.
“I didn’t think he would become a son like.. this,” Your dad darts his eyes towards you and Jake. “So, is the relationship going well?”
You struggle to not break out into a fit of laughter, “Yes, Dad. Thanks for your concern. Jake and I are going to get some ice cream.”
Your Mum nods happily while your father sighs and sits back. Jake bows his head politely and leaves with you.
“I hate the awkwardness,” Jake whines and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with his.
“He’ll get used to it!” You boop Jake’s nose sweetly.
Walking alongside Jake with your fingers wrapped tightly in his own, the crisp autumn air hitting against your cheeks and the streetlights illuminating the sky; you can’t help but feel a sense of longing towards the moment. It just felt right.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jake breaks the silence, tilting his head towards you. “Actually.. No, no. You’re going to make fun of me.”
Jake hides his face in his hoodie, but you can still see the redness in his cheeks.
“What?” You laugh, prying his face out of his hoodie. “Tell me!”
Jake sighs, “I used to think we were alike but I don’t think we are. So, I guess we’re kinda like magnets.”
“You’ve called me a lot of things, Sim Jaeyun, but never have you called me a magnet.”
Jake sighs with a smile on his face, “Not like that! I just meant, we’re not as alike as we think. Kinda like a magnet, but they work out fine. If anything, there’s literal forces of attraction pulling them together. Isn’t that so cool?”
You chortle, “Yes, Jake. That’s very cool. I love being your magnet.”
Jake presses a kiss to your lips, “Stop making fun of me.”
“Stop being a nerd,” You retort.
“Says the one who got 100% in the last quiz!”“Don’t be jealous, Sim. You’ll get on my level someday.”
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