#we gotta take the small joys in life

[newtafterdark]

You know, I had expected immediate wild happenings in the politics of my country (Germany) following America's election... what I didn't expect was it being our chancellor firing our minister of finance with an honestly scathing speech.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji witnesses his son’s first steps and it nearly makes the grown man cry.

wc. 1k

tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama.’ life if gege just gave us what we wanted. ending is a bit rushed if you couldn't tell.

“gumi, look here,” you coo at your child who’s sitting in his playpen. you’re laying against some stuffed animals, too tired to move after doing all kinds of chores. the baby looks up at you with curious eyes and you take your chance to make a silly face.

megumi giggles and responds by throwing a small toy your way. it accidentally hits your head, though luckily it isn’t anything too heavy.

toji, who laid lazily on the opposite side of the playpen, watches the scene unfold. he grins once he sees you rub the spot on your forehead, “oi, megumi, careful with y’r mama.”

you chuckle, dropping your dramatic act. you ruffle megumi’s hair a bit before standing up. a yawn escapes your lips and you stretch your arms above your head—clearly in need of a break.

“i’m gonna take a quick nap, honey,” your eyes meet toji’s. your husband nods and sits up with a groan. he’s also sleepy, but he knows that you did most of the work today. he’ll gladly watch over megumi while you rest and regain your energy.

megumi starts to fuss the moment you step out of the playpen. his tiny hands reach out to you—the little boy clearly too attached to his mother. toji shakes his head and effortlessly picks his son up and puts him on his lap, “naw, y’re stuck with me buddy. mama’s gotta rest.”

megumi squirms around and whimpers. he’s clearly not interested in his dad at the moment. toji sighs and tries his best to keep the baby still, but to no avail.

“mama! mama!” the baby’s cries for you breaks your heart. you stop a a couple steps away and turn around with a pout. you notice how megumi is kicking his legs, thrashing around in toji’s arms in attempt to free himself.

you sigh and crouch down, “gumi, mama’s sleepy. . papa’s gonna play with you, okay?”

megumi, of course, does not understand what you mean. he thinks you’re leaving him alone and it causes him to wail loudly. you’re about to console your son, but backtrack when you notice how megumi’s starting to stand up on his own.

his chubby legs are barely holding his body weight up. the balance is hard to find for the baby, yet he still does his utmost best. he nearly trips from just standing.

even toji looks on with wide eyes and a hint of a prideful grin on his lips. he’s silently encouraging his son in his head.

“ma..ma,” megumi babbles. he almost topples over, but toji’s quick reflexes come in handy. a big hand keeps the baby standing straight. the dark-haired man carefully lets go again, however keeps his hand near his son’s body. just in case.

neither toji nor you could believe what was happening. you both watch in awe as megumi’s left foot moves forward—the right one copying that same movement.

your precious boy, taking his first steps right in front of you both to witness. it’s a heartwarming sight. you hold your breath and toji’s lips part slightly. your husband has yet to grasp why this scene in front of him makes him feel so. . . giddy on the inside.

“c’mon! come to mama!” you squeal excitedly and open your arms, encouraging megumi to your best ability. the tiny boy giggles and moves his limbs as fast as they could go. his chubby hands flail around as he quickly walks over to you.

toji stares at his family and that’s when it hits him; how much he loves this peaceful life. his son just achieved another great milestone that he had the honour of witnessing firsthand. it made him happy that he chose this path instead of the more ‘darker’ one.

it also nearly causes your husband to shed some tears from pure joy. but, toji didn’t want to seem too ‘soft’. even if he secretly is for his wife and child.

toji coughs subtly. totally not to get rid of the irritating lump in his throat. a ghost of a smile appears on his face while he got up, immediately moving towards megumi and you.

“good job, kiddo,” toji says as he puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he stares down at megumi in your arms—the little boy getting drowned in kisses and compliments.

your ears twitch. there’s no denying it; the faint crack in toji’s voice. you give your kid a break from your overwhelming affection and tilt your head back. your eyes meet your husband’s.

you grin when you see how he quickly avoids your gaze. something he never does unless he’s. . . “gonna cry?”

toji rolls his eyes at your question. he ignores your teasing by trying to change the subject. he focuses on megumi who’s still going absolutely wild in your embrace—cutely demanding more praise and kisses.

“daddy can also give ya some kisses, y’know,” toji pokes megumi’s cheek, fascinated by the plush fat. the baby stops babbling the moment his dad talks to him. he looks up at toji and then back at the finger still prodding at his cheek.

megumi opens his mouth and doesn’t waste a single second. he goes for a playful bite, though his little baby teeth do no real damage, “yumm.”

you giggle at the way megumi frowns at toji, his teeth holding tightly onto toji’s fingertip. it’s time for your husband to take over the dramatics now.

“hey, that ain’t so nice now,” toji hisses and leans forward until his face is right in front of megumi—a similar frown on both the dad and son’s faces. they really do look alike now that you see them both from up close again.

megumi only bites down more on the finger in his mouth and toji reacts to that by feigning his anger. it’s amusing to see how neither of them gives up first.

but, it’s also rather cute to see how the father-son dynamic plays out in cozy family moments like these.

your eyes focus back on toji’s face and you can’t help but smile to yourself. he’s a good husband and father; always there for the both of you. his own way of showing support for megumi’s first steps is rather heartwarming. plus, the playful banter between the two never fails to make any moment all the more precious.

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑… 𝐍𝐎. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were once a feared name on the sea--once, but not anymore. your downhill life takes a turn when you decide to rob a pirate ship, and it happens to belong to one of your big brothers.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy's sister!reader x strawhats

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: smoking, mysterious backstory ooooo ahhhh, fluff and minimal angst, not enireeeely satisfied with this but its left off kinda open-ended so ill likely return to this scenario later

Now, the Strawhat Pirates were used to not knowing much about their captain’s past. He has a brother with flame powers? Sure thing. A Marine Vice Admiral for a grandfather? Okay, that’s fine. Monkey D. Dragon is his father? Whatever, they’ve heard crazier. 

But really, at this point, they might want to just sit him down and get all of it out in the open. 

Usopp wandered through a busy marketplace, Luffy’s shirtsleeve in his tight vice. Sanji tailed them as an extra precaution, one eye on his supply list and the other on the ready-to-bolt captain. 

Luffy huffed indignantly, tugging at Usopp’s grip. “I wanna explore.”

“And we want to get out of here in a timely manner,” Usopp quipped back.

And they just might have done just that, if not for the hooded figure running right through Luffy and Usopp, parting their hands. A street vendor shouted curses after them, shaking a fist. “S-Stop! Hey!”

It was no use; the thief was too far away, and the man was too old to have the energy to chase them. He slumped his shoulders and pinched his brow, raising his gaze to find the stares of Luffy, Sanji, and Usopp zeroed in on him. “What? You plan on robbin’ the old man too?”

Sanji removed his cigarette from between his teeth with a shake of his head. “Sorry. What’d they steal? Maybe we can get it back for you?”

The old man shook a dismissive hand, frown deeply set on his face. “Agh. Don’t bother. You kids don’t get yerself wrapped up with her.” That was all it took for their prying curiosity to close in on him, and suddenly the man was surrounded on all sides. “Hey, now…”

“Who?” Luffy demanded first, head cocked to the side. 

Lips agape, he shook his head and jabbed a thumb at the wanted poster pinned up to the wall beside his fruit stand. “That’s her, if you’re so curious. Been robbin’ us blind all month! The marines tried to catch ‘er, but no one can touch the bitch.”

Usopp rushed over and swiped the poster down, skimming it over with a hum. “Doesn’t look too tough. I bet we can take ‘er.”

The man rolled his eyes. “That’s what we all said.”

Sanji peeked over the sharpshooter’s shoulder as he let out a puff of smoke. He blinked, cheeks growing warm the longer he gazed at the woman pictured. “She’s… beautiful.”

Usopp squinted at the slightly faded writing scrawled under the picture. “Wanted dead or…” He snorted. “Nope, that’s it. Just dead for 40,000,000 berri.”

“Lemme see!” Luffy sidled up to Usopp and stared right at the poster’s center, recognition settling in instantly. You looked older, but that wasn’t the biggest change—joy had returned to your smile, your beaming expression showcasing a side of you he hadn’t seen since before Sabo died. 

An unbridled laugh left him as he took the poster roughly, shoving Usopp aside. “Hey! That’s my little sister!”

“Oh,” Usopp hummed, taking a moment to process before his brows vaulted and he shot Sanji a look. “WHAT?!”

જ ⁀ ➴

You slinked through the streets toward the docks, hood hung low over your face, cheshire grin shrouded by shadow. You rolled a slice of mango around your tongue, sighing now that your hunger was satisfied. 

You wanted to pay the guy—honest! But being an enemy of the state didn’t exactly pay well, and a mercenary’s gotta eat. 

Waiting for a donkey cart to roll past, you bolted over to the wooden boardwalk just in front of the port. Nobody paid you any mind, assuming you to be one of the street urchins that made up the local gangs. You only meant to play a small joke on the young sailor you’d grown acquainted with, make his life just a bit more difficult, when your path was halted by the sight of a new ship docked at port.

It was a pretty caravel, a little rough around the edges from weather and climate, with a masthead of a goat peering out at the city. A pirate ship, for certain. A grin itched its way up your face. A pirate ship meant treasure, and there wasn’t much in this life you liked more than treasure. 

Well, there was one thing, but unfortunately, your brothers were scattered across the sea��two alive, one not so much. The thought had you stumbling over your own feet, righting yourself swiftly before you headed for the caravel. You mumbled pathetically to yourself, like you had been since you left your home village some years ago. The life of a mercenary is a lonely one. 

“Wonder what they’ve got, huh, Sabo.” Gazing up at the clouds, you grinned. The wind whistled through your hair, and your coping mechanism fell through. It’d been doing that a lot lately. Sighing out your troubles, you shook out your shoulders and crept up the gangway. 

A girl stood watch, facing the sea on the other side of the ship. At the helm, a swordsman lay sleeping. Other than that, it was empty. Just a skinny-limbed girl and a lazy warrior. Perfect.

You slipped on board without a sound, living up to your title as The Silent Death. Well, nobody had called you that in a few years, not since you were twelve and stormed Marine Headquarters looking for your grandfather. You hadn’t found the Vice Admiral, but you had given them a reason for renovation. You possessed the Terra-Terra Fruit, and the earth rumbled at your command. At least you still held the name Earthshaker.

Your first wanted poster had been a shot of you sailing away, laughing in the face of the destruction. A force of nature, they called you. Hired by pirates, warlords, and royalty to do their less than noble deeds. But that was a long time ago. Now, you were nothing more than a petty thief, loneliness and grief taking its toll after so long repressing it.

But never the matter! After this last loot, you’d have the money to buy back your ship, get off that godforsaken island, and finally restore yourself to your former glory. Then Ace would never call you on your little snail transponder and laugh at your series of failures.

“Hey.” You glanced up from where you were crouching behind a barrel, locking eyes with the girl as she blinked surprisedly. Her hand itched toward a weapon at her side. 

“Shit.” You cursed yourself and your inner-monologuing tendencies. “Bye!”

You darted up and made for the edge of the ship when a sword whizzed past your faze, narrowly missing your chin. The swordsman rose, alert as ever, two more swords ready at his side. You scoffed, huffing, “Why do you need three?”

Three… Two… One.

Eyes widened, you realized you knew that lazy swordsman (whose swords probably overcompensated for something) just as he started to recognize you as well. He jumped down to the deck, approaching warily as the girl came to stand beside him. 

Roronoa Zoro muttered your name like a curse. “What’re you doing here, huh?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you murmured back, genuinely curious. “What’re you doin’ on a pirate ship, pirate hunter?”

“Change in career path,” he snapped. “We don’t appreciate stowaways. Especially not a backwater odd-job dog clinging to her glory days.”

You tsked. “Now, now. I was just having a look around. No harm done.” You swept a bow, flicking your wrist as you searched out the sea floor far down below. “I’ll be going now.”

With your head bowed, they didn’t catch your growing smirk until it was too late; the oceanic crust spread across the floor, magma exposed to the salty sea at an unnatural speed. The water rocked the ship and all those around, the nearby sailors murmuring worriedly.

“Hey, I may be a loser,” you admitted, picking at a cuticle as their glares shifted to concern. “But I’m still the Earthshaker, Roronoa. Now, how about some financial compensation for my bruised pride, before I capsize this sorry excuse for a boat.”

The girl scoffed in reply, brows vaulted. “Yeah, no thanks. We’re very attached to our beri.”

“You are,” Roronoa yelped. “Give her something before we lose the ship!”

Lips pursed, the girl looked ready to either attack you or give up, so you worsened the sea’s uproar just to give her a scare. A relent was on the tip of her tongue when her gaze darted over your shoulder, relief flooding her features. “Luffy!”

The sea floor closed up in an instant, the color leaving your face. “Luffy?”

A body flung into your back, tackling you to the deck. You bit back curses, wriggling free, when that laugh hit the back of your neck. A million repressed memories surfaced like the magma you controlled, and you were suddenly twelve years old, leaving your last brother in the dead of night to set off on an adventure you thought would fix everything. 

Falling still, you slowly shifted to roll on your back, staring up at the beaming face of Monkey D. Luffy. You pushed up on your elbows, blind to the careful stares of those around, and gulped down some air. “Luffy?”

He chuckled gently, murmuring your name in turn, and you lurched forward to wring your arms around his neck. A tiny piece of your heart was put back in place (only a third of it, and you figured it would only be whole when you died and rejoined the brother lost). 

Leaving home so young was a shitty miscalculation on your part. You’d fled Dawn Island some time after Ace, and some time before Luffy. Your not-so-big-more-like-twin brother always said you’d set out together, that one day he would be Pirate King and you would all be happy. But you left without ever saying goodbye, joined up with a crew of mercenaries, ate a devil fruit, and searched out Grandpa Garp for some answers about where you came from. And years passed and you could never admit your mistake—not until you spotted Luffy’s smiling face in the wanted poster he always thought you would share. 

You leaned back and caught his eye, scurrying to sit on your knees. You wiped at your eyes as embarrassing tears started to well up. “I… I dunno…”

He knocked his head against yours, eliciting a sharp ow! from you. Luffy grinned cheekily as you nursed your temples. “You owe me an apology. So you can start there.”

And the fire sprang up in your throat all over again. Pathetic, you choked it all down with a nod. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. With S-Sabo gone and Ace gone… I thought for sure you’d be gone too soon enough… so I left you before you could leave me.”

You looked away sheepishly, rubbing at your arms. Luffy just flicked the side of your head and offer you the same bright expression he always did; it was the expression that gave you hope your life wasn’t totally screwed over, not yet anyways. “It’s okay—S’ long as you know it was stupid.”

You rolled your eyes and stood as he did the same. His hand never strayed far from your shoulder, holding you there like you might bolt away. Luffy gave a laugh and turned to face his friends, and only then did you remember you weren’t alone. You pivoted to face them all, locking eyes with a less-than-pleased Zoro.

“What’d going on, Luffy?” Zoro grunted, and if possible Luffy’s smile grew.

He took both your shoulders and shook you a little. “This is my little sister!”

You scoffed. “Little my ass! We’re the same age!”

Luffy held up his palm to his own height, then dipped it down to around your collarbone. “But you were always little-er, and Ace got to call you little!”

“Because he’s older than me!”

“Wait,” Zoro butted in just as you prepped to launch yourself at Luffy. “Sister? You never mentioned a sister.”

Luffy nocked his head to the side, lips pursed. “I didn’t?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He laughed it off. “But this is great! We saw Ace a while back in Alabasta, y’know.”

Nodding, you twined your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. “Yeah, I caught ‘im a few months ago.”

The reunion met a halt when Luffy asked, “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Nami jutted out a hip and settled you with a look. “She threatened to take down the Merry if we didn’t hand over our beri.”

Luffy’s brows vaulted, lips a thin line as he turned to you. You chuckled awkwardly. “That is something I did, yes.”

But that wasn’t what occupied him. “How did you nearly sink the ship?”

“Oh.” You swirled your palms, gathering the granules of rock and dirt scattered around the deck and collecting it all in a tiny twister. “I got the Terra-Terra Fruit a few years ago.”

His eyes brighetend like stars. “That’s so cool!”

Usopp faced Sanji with a slack jaw. “What is it with their family and devil fruits?”

“Hello?” Nami waved a hand between you and Luffy. “She tried to rob us, Luffy.”

You inched away from her with a small smile. “Sorry about that. Desperate times, yeah?”

Despite the frowns set on everyone’s faces, you had a good feeling you would win them all over. You were just too charming, after all. Casting a look around, a familiar ache gnawed at your stomach. “Uhm, have you got any food?”

જ ⁀ ➴

The crew quickly decided that Ace was their favorite of the family. 

While Ace was polite, generous, and charming, you and Luffy were cut from the very same cloth. Messy and loud, the only difference was that you were slightly more aware of your surroundings than your brother.

“Yeah, she and Luffy were always tied at the hip,” said Ace, his voice crackling to life from the transponder snail Sanji pulled out one late night. “Just… don’t be too harsh on her. She’s had a rough few months.”

Sanji had no clue what that meant, but he almost wanted to find out, not just because you’re pretty. A shadowy look always eclipsed your face, no matter how big your smile got. Over the few weeks you’d spent on the Going Merry, Sanji tried to get to know your story, but you never answered more than a few sentences before disappearing the whole afternoon.

“You knew her from before,” he said to Zoro one morning, stopping the swordsman as they traded spots for the night watch. “Do you know anything?”

Zoro adjusted his swords at his hip, chewing at his cheek. “All I know is a couple years ago, she was one of the most wanted mercenaries on the East Blue. Now, she’s a shadow of that person on the Grand Line. Isn’t that just what this place does?”

“Maybe…” But Sanji knew better. Maybe he was so concerned because he knew that sometimes, on days darker and gloomier than the rest, he had that same look in his eye. So he caught you one night watch when you had no choice but to lean against the ship rail and deal with his company.

He took a long drag from a cigarette, preparing what he’d say, when you nudged him and reached out to take the smoke from him. Sanji scoffed a laugh as he handed it off, watching you inhale deep and expel it in a puff, your eyes heavy. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” You took another drag.

“Whatever it is you thought of.”

From the way your face darkened, Sanji thought you might stub the cig on the deck and leave him there to take your watch, but you only stood there, head hung between your shoulders. You gave him back his smoke hesitantly. 

“For the longest time,” you sighed, “I wanted so badly to know where I come from.” Sanji tilted his head in unspoken question. “Me and Luffy aren’t reallys siblings. We’re adopted, I guess.”

“Ah.” That made all your similarities a little more uncanny, but it made sense. You didn’t really look like Luffy anyway. “And… you found out?”

You nodded shortly, picking at a splinter in the rail. “Not to long ago. I always imagined that my parents loved me, and that we got separated by some tragedy that left me on Dawn Island.” Your voice broke off hollowly. “But that’s not it at all.”

He didn’t say anything when you started crying, and he didn’t ask what exactly plagued your past. Sanji just… stood there, offered you a cloth from his pocket, and waited till you compeod yourself to give you his cigarette. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as the sun peeked up over the sea. 

“No need. I’m here if you want to talk. All of us are, really.”

You doubted that, but you sent him a smile and descended to the girl’s cabin for some sleep. Nami and Robin remained sleeping softly as you slipped into bed, staring up at the ceiling wide awake. Your slammed the heels of your palms to your eyes, silently screaming into the air. 

“Why,” you hissed. “Why did I cry?”

Sheets rustled across the room, and suddenly Robin’s eyes glinted at you. “You were crying?”

“Who’s crying?” Nami yawned as she pushed up on her elbows.

You just about buried yourself in your blanket and suffocated yourself, face warming over. “No one! Go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Nami snapped back. “You practicality stomped in here. I’m thoroughly awake.”

“Same here.” Robin and Nami shifted to face you from their beds, sleepy eyes hooded as they gazed upon you. “What’s the matter?”

You sat quiet as a mouse, eyes wide and caught, until you flopped over on your side and pulled your blanket up to your chin. “Sorry I woke you.”

The two Strawhats locked eyes, brows equally raised. They’d been conspiring to figure you out ever since you joined their adventures, and this certainly added fuel to their investigative fire. Because as much as you laughed and played and made messes everywhere you went, a great shadow lurked behind you—and everyone could see it.

Like a lingering ghost of a past you’d rather forget, something haunted followed your every move. From the way you cast glances over your shoulder at every port to how you fell into frightening silence at certain points in conversation, the entire Strawhat Crew felt the way darkness pulled at you.

And they would find out why—Whether you liked it or not, they would find a way to help you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@100520s

[wonryllis]

ENHYPEN AS KINDS OF LOVE.

────𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇.

𓋜 enha as love in the form of words ㅤ. .ㅤ𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑡ㅤㅤ𓍼ㅤㅤ𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 & fluff ࣪  ㅤ˖ ㅤ𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑ㅤㅤ৲ lowercase intended ㅤ. ⠀𓈃 ๋ ㅤ𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠

( yeonie.notes ) please show lots of love, 1592wc. fem!centered. FEEDBACKS & REBLOGS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED.

꒰⠀hee⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seung.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i know baby, you don't have to say anything' kind of love. the guy who can read even your silence. heeseung looks at you more than anything in his world, he knows you more than you know yourself. he remembers everything about you from the brand of your conditioner to the friends you don't talk to. if there's anyone who can see right through you even in the worst of times, it's him. your comfort in a bustling town. to him love lies in the little details, in understanding what can not be understood, in the language of the eyes.

"heeseung i really-" you squeal walking into the shop as he holds the door open, "want a strawberry and cream frappuccino? i know baby," his words form a smile on your face, one that lights up your eyes, one that heeseung mirrors his heart all giddy and warm. "then i'll be at-" looking around the interior you turn back to him, "the table by the window, i know baby," giggling at how well he knows what you like, you press a tiny kiss on his cheeks,"i'll be waiting!" i'll be waiting he mouths at the same time as you walk further away, grinning idiotically before the cashier snaps him back.

꒰⠀jong⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀seong.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'dont worry, i will take care of it for you' kind of love. the guy who doesn't let you lift a finger. to him you're the princess that doesnt have to do anything. your every wish and your every desire is a goal for him to accomplish. the beaming happiness on your face when you get what you want is the source of his joy. the feeling of coming home yet discovering new places you never knew of: places filled with more sunny days. your warmth in a cold winter. to him love lies in the willingness to give endlessly, in being connected by actions, in prioritizing you.

"jay, it broke!" before your whine can even bounce off the walls jay is there right behind you, "don't worry princess, i'll fix it, come here sit on my lap," his hands move delicately as he sews the broken butterfly pin holding your blouse together. "you need to be gentle while putting it on okay?" he reminds you softly as his thumb wipes off the tears threatening to spill from your eyes at having almost ruined your favourite outfit. "can we have some ice cream cake later?" you ask closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips leaving a kiss on top of each one, "you have a cold so only a little bit, alright?"

꒰⠀jae⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀yun.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i gotta kiss you before you leave' kind of love. the guy who gotta show how much he loves you. your companion in every event from family dinners to office parties sim jaeyun is the man of your life and man of your dreams. if ever you need to go alone, he waits for you, roaming around the area and picking up your favourite food. for him it is absolutely necessary to express his feelings regardless of your surroundings and regardless of the situation. your star in an empty sky. to him love lies in the small moments, in the little kisses and hugs, in the whispers of words.

"jake what are you doing!" the more you try to wiggle out of jake's arms the tighter they get, "don't you think you're forgetting something, my love?" your repeated slaps against his hands are in no vain with the way his lips find the crook of your neck leaving fluttering kisses down to your collarbone. "my goodnight kiss when will i get it?" more than the words spoken you gasp at the way he stops whispering, "we are supposed to be sleeping in different rooms! stop it before my parents find us!" "well it's nothing they don't know, i love their daughter too much."

꒰⠀sung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀hoon.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'stay there, i'm coming to get you' kind of love. the guy who is always a call away. be it in the middle of the day or at the break of dawn, if you need him, he's always there. needs to see you safe and healthy to able to breathe in peace. if it so happens that you are hurt, he turns the hospital upside down. it's you and him against the world, let's you know that he'll be the one to stay even if everyone else leaves. your pillar in a pile of debris. to him love lies in being by your side in every situation, in changing your restless into calm, in the compromise and accomodation for another.

"sunghoon? i feel weird," your words slur into the phone and sunghoon immediately knows something's wrong. "angel, what's wrong? i'll be there in five, don't move from the bed okay?" there inside your apartment unit he finds an empty bottle of medicine containing ethanol. "my prey is here!" squealing, you hop off the bed and scurry over to sunghoon, "angel you shouldn't consume drugs so carelessly," he scolds, picking you up when you jump on him. giving in to your puckered lips he leaves a wet kiss before pushing a finger against your forehead. "now lets sleep off the intoxication,"

꒰⠀sun⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀woo.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i believe in you, you can do it' kind of love. the guy who inspires you to be the best version of yourself. in his world there is no giving up and there is no going back. teaches you to take a step even when it feels like nothing is going right. helps you focus on the present, nurturing a mind guided by reason and heart. it is important to him that you do what you love and you do it with courage. your strength in a harsh society. to him love lies in the encouragement, in the pushes out of comfort zone, in a cheer amidst a silent crowd.

"sunoo, what if i fail?" your hands tremble as you wait backstage in the conference hall, scared to mess up your first paper presentation. sunoo pulls you into a hug that feels homely, softer than ever, "trust yourself bubs, i know you'll do well. you wanted to do this since forever and you worked so hard for this, remember?" his fingers draw circles on your back and his lips leave a tender kiss on your temple. "even if it's not how you want it to be what matters is you tried. now go on, i'll be waiting." a gentle push, a reminder that he'll be right here to catch you.

꒰⠀jung⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀won.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'baby, how can i make you feel better?' kind of love. the guy who tells you, you're perfect the way you are. with him you never have to put a mask on, you don't have to pretend to be someone you're not. late night conversations where he reminds you how much you're worth it even if you're ordinary. because to him you'll always be the most special person: his person seen and appreciated in your own essence. your peace in a chaotic world. to him love lies in the fruit of assurance, in the acceptance of affection, in the positivity to feel life in the simple things.

"jungwon, it's snowing!" the excitement is your voice makes jungwon laugh as he runs out after you with your muffler, coat and socks in his hands. "you need to cover up bunny or you'll catch a cold," the pads of his thumb rub against your cheeks, face craddled between his palms after he has you all wrapped up. "sorry," you giggle cozying up in his hold, it makes jungwon's heart summersault a thousand times,"you look so cute, bare faced and warm cheeks all flushed," the thought of how you have let your walls down around him makes him happy beyond anything,"so perfect,"

꒰⠀ri⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀ki.⠀꒱⠀⠀ 🖇️ 𝄒⠀⠀ ﹙𝑣𝑖𝑒.﹚ as 'i miss you' before you even say bye kind of love. the guy who can not live away from you for too long. shows you there's magic in everyday that goes by with you, in the sunrise from the balcony of your shared apartment, in the little garden you tend to together. the arrow of cupid struck through two at once: where all your moments hold stories to tell. the proof that time together is time cherished. your glitter in a dull canvas. to him love lies in the sync of hearts, in enjoying and mourning life side by side, in not missing a single moment.

"riki what are you doing here?" you're dumbfounded coming eye to eye with riki at the doorstep of your childhood home "i couldn't go another day without you," he says stepping forward to cup your face in his hands and rubbing the tip of your noses in an eskimo kiss. "let's just spend the weekend here and go back together," his forehead falls against yours eyes closed as he wishpers out how bad your absence felt. "ok, let's do that i missed you too," at that riki leaves a quick peck on your lips grinning widely, "let's make some new memories,"

TAGLIST ( open. )

[bridoesotherjunk]

Okay, so it's been a handful of days since I've seen Venom 3.. and I think I've finally got my thoughts together.

This review will have spoilers, so it will go under the cut.

these are all my opinions, so don't take my word as gospel or anything...

Anyone who knows me and my blog knows how much I've loved these movies since 2018, so to see me not ranting about the third Venom movie should be evidence enough how I feel.

I... don't feel like this was a satisfying conclusion to the Venom franchise. I really feel like there was so much more that could have been done, and should have been, instead of what we got.

I truly feel that introducing Knull into the story was a mistake. The first 2 films were so much smaller scale. Expanding all the way to the fucking symbiote god after only having done Carnage just felt like such a massive leap. And they really didn't do much with him anyway.

It felt like they included Knull because they were obligated to. Like Sony made them in order to have a weird spin off involving Knull trying to kill stuff. I don't know. He didn't do much besides tease future movies where he's the villain again. And that's kind of boring...

I will sound so narcissistic saying this, but I truly feel that the story I came up with, where the villains of Venom 3 are former Life Foundation employees angry at Eddie for ruining their lives, made way more sense. In terms of scale, you know? Much less "huge universal threat" and more of the small scale "threat to Eddie and Venom specifically" type story. Even Riot, being a threat to the Earth, was smaller scale than Knull. Knull is just too much. Too big. Too unfocused. It felt like too wide of a net. It felt generic, i hate to say it. It just felt like every other dumb ass gritty movie where the bad guy wants to destroy all life as we know it. (And quite frankly, he could have been taken out of the movie and not much would have changed. Venom and Eddie could have been hunted by the xenophages for any number of reasons.)

The part of the movie that I enjoyed most was the beginning. The part that felt like Venom. Where we saw Eddie and Venom working in sync to free those dogs. I loved that. I loved seeing how far the two of them have come and how well they work together. .. seeing their journey in a montage later? That felt... lackluster. After seeing them literally working together just an hour earlier in the movie, it felt kind of cheap. The way the story ended for these two didn't feel like a victory. It felt like the Avengers Endgame "well we gotta get rid of this character because their contract is up" situation.

The movie was definitely a fun time. I enjoyed myself watching it. But I was left feeling a sense of "That's it?" That I haven't felt since Avengers Endgame.

I'm happy that Tom Hardy got to do these movies. I absolutely will forever adore the first 2. They're fun, they're goofy, they're gay, and I love them. .. but this third one just... yeah. I'm disappointed.

I will always love Venom. That much is not going to change. I love these two gay losers and I'm so happy I got to have them in my life. They brought me so much joy, and so much brainrot, and I will miss the fuck out of them.

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets Your Baby || 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairing: Hyrule, Time, Wild, Four x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Interesting indeed 😈Now, I have my own set of headcannons for what order the Chain becomes dads in, but regardless of their own experience, I'm sure the Links would all subject the new dad to lots of support and teasing. Here you go 💜 Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

The last thing Hyrule was expecting to encounter during his village visit was his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage. Then again, life has been full of surprises lately and it wasn't like he didn't already know that the portals between their worlds are still active. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again and honestly, it couldn't have aligned more perfectly.

Happy to see the rest of the Chain again, Hyrule takes the liberty of inviting them back to his home so that they can properly catch up and not be the subject of so many judgment stares from villagers. Throughout the short trip there, the group’s laughter is vibrant as they detail accounts from their recent adventures, soon turning it into a friendly competition of who has the craziest stories. 

This conversation stays well alive all the way from their first steps outside of the village gates to the second Hyrule opens the door to his house, at which point the spirited teasing immediately dies off into a stunned silence.

“Oh! Hello again!” You’re just as pleasantly surprised to see the boys as your boyfriend had been, your smile more than welcoming as you turn around to greet them, yet they’re less focused on you and more so on the small infant you cradle in your arms.

“...I think the Traveler wins,” Wild mumbles, his disbelief shared amongst the rest of the group who merely nod distractedly. 

“Right! I forgot to mention -” Hyrule excitedly hurries to your side before turning to his friends with a thrilled smile, “- This is our daughter, Hope.”

“You just casually forgot to mention you have a kid now…?” Legend narrows his eyes while pointing to the kid in question. He should probably be more annoyed with Hyrule’s tendency of always skipping over important details, but honestly he’s just too shocked to process it right this second.

“Well, she’s only about a month old. Being a dad now takes some getting used to,” Hyrule defends, rubbing the back of his neck timidly, but when you pass your daughter over to him, he shows practice in the way he gently holds her securely to himself before approaching the boys to properly show her off.

Despite their surprise, they’re eager to crowd around him, each wanting to get a good look to ensure this isn’t some clever joke you’re both pulling on them. Fluffy head of dark wavy hair…A little button nose…Sharp pointed ears…Yep, this baby must be yours. She looks exactly as one would imagine the product of Hyrule’s sex life to look like…

“...Geeze. She’s adorable,” Warrior awes, practically leaning over Legend who elbows him back with a glare.

“Isn’t she?” You preen.

“She’s strong, too,” The Vet acknowledges with an unamused pout. He had made the mistake of holding a finger out to the baby only for her to grasp it in an unwavering grip. His attempts at pulling away are fruitless, not that he’s actually trying that hard. Maybe he even likes the feeling of his heart melting just a bit.

“Congratulations. You two must be very proud,” Time praises kindly, having already felt the joy that comes with being a parent himself. He can recognize it in the way Hyrule and you affectionately watch your giggling baby with a pleasant glow surrounding you both.

“We very much are…”

Muffled commotion outside alerts you to the fact that you have visitors long before they stumble into your home, not even bothering to knock as their excitement gets the better of them. Now, any other day, your husband would be quick to scold such ill-mannered behavior, but fortunately for your guests, he's in far too good of a mood to let it be soured.

So, instead of acknowledging the Chain’s less than graceful entrance, Time immediately rises to his feet with a proud hand left upon your shoulder, "Everyone, we'd like you to meet Saria and Mallory."

The young heroes are in awe as they crowd around the bed just to get a look at the small bundles held within your arms. Sure, they've seen babies before, but these are Time's babies. For many of them, the complicated concept of love alone had once seemed out of reach for any hero of courage, yet here the Old Man is, hitched to a lovely wife and now the lucky father of two adorable daughters. It's an amazing accomplishment, really; one that has the entire Chain feeling happy for him.

"They're so little," Hyrule whispers, scared to speak any louder out of fear he'll accidently wake them.

"They inherited their dad's nose, poor things," Warrior jests, throwing a smirk Time's way.

"They'll grow into them," Rather than take it personally, he chuckles while carefully taking one of the girls from you. Despite having only become a father a few hours ago, he's already a natural at handling them. Ever so gently - as if handling the thinnest of glass - he cradles his daughter to his chest and fixes the tiny hand-sewn blanket around her; a gift from her godmother, Malon, of course.

"You'll have your hands full with twins," Four remarks prudently.

You sigh at the thought, your head thrown back against your pillow, "Ugh, we know…”

Although you’re visibly tired after having undergone hours of stressful labor, you still look upon the baby in your arms with nothing short of pure admiration, clearly having no actual regrets towards having either of them. In your eyes, twins just mean all the more love to give.

"Nothing we can't handle," Time promises before getting a mischievous glimmer in his eye while casually extending his sleeping baby out to Twilight, "This one is Mallory, by the way -"

"- W-Wait -!" The Rancher is immediately caught off guard by it, yet his objections are ignored. Time drops the baby into his arms anyway, practically forcing Twilight to take her, not that he truly minds. A natural around children himself, it takes him only a few seconds to adjust the baby comfortably in his hold.

Blind to the other boys who hover around his shoulders, Twilight's eyes are locked in amazement upon the tiny bean who scrunches her nose and whimpers quietly before soon settling down…To think, this small infant no more than a few hours old is a relative of his. He can't help but wonder how closely related they are. How many generations between them? Three? Two? Maybe even just one? It's a strange thought to consider...but also a very comforting one, too.

"...She's a real beauty, isn't she?" Time asks softly with a strong pat to Twilight's back. The only reply he gets is a wordless nod and whimper as the teary eyed Rancher sniffles.

What kind of horrors do they need to prepare themselves for? That's the question that rings through every hero's head as they approach Wild's home. They're concern only grows when - as if sensing them - the Champion suddenly appears in his open doorway with an ear-to-ear grin greeting them...Not the most comforting sight seeing as they've come all this way under his vague request.

A letter had been sent to each of them only giving the minor hint that there’s a certain 'surprise' he can't wait to show them, and with someone as chaotic as their accident prone centenarian, the Chain has every right to be anxious about it.

Even as they all crowd outside of his home, Wild refuses to add any context, instead maintaining his mysteriously upbeat aura before finally stepping aside to allow them in. It's only then that the heroes realize what his 'surprise' is, welcomed by the sight of you as you stand there matching Wild's grin while holding an unfamiliar baby in your arms. She can't be much older than a few weeks, judging on both her tiny features and the obvious bags under both of her parents’ eyes...

"You have a baby?!" Wind screeches with delight, not wasting a second to race to your side.

"Her name is Mikan," Chuckling, you kneel down to let him better see your pride and joy. It isn't long before you're surrounded by most of the heroes who are immediately taken by your daughter's cuteness.

"When did this happen?" Time inquires through a raised eyebrow, one of the few Links who had remained by the door with Wild.

"Uh, she'll be three weeks old tomorrow," Wild answers, his hand darting up to rub the side of his neck. He knows that isn’t exactly what Time meant, but it’s the easiest answer.

"I didn't think you -..." Begins Twilight quietly. Although he ultimately cuts himself short, the curious look he gives his successor wordless finishes what he might've said.

Nodding slowly with some hesitation, Wild bows his head while looking back over to you. There's a fondness in his eyes as he watches you carefully pass your daughter over for Wind to hold, "I know what I said before. I...I didn't think this was something I could have - something I could want this badly, but...Well…I probably don’t need to tell you how it is…”

Twilight pats Wild’s back with a knowing smirk, indeed understanding. He’s happy to see his friend finally accept the peaceful life he deserves instead of continuing to run away from it, after all, Twilight has never been blind to the curiosity and faint jealousy that would shine in Wild’s eyes whenever listening to the other heroes talk about their families. He’s been long overdue to have one of his own.

"Hey, just one question," While Wind is busy cooing and rocking your daughter, Four turns around to address Wild once they finally join everyone else, "Did you really name your daughter after a fruit?"

Wild's cheeks flare in embarrassment, "I - It can be a pretty name, too!"

"I'm actually the one who chose it," You confess sheepishly, taking the attention away from your partner, "I was really craving tangerines throughout the whole pregnancy."

"At least it's a somewhat normal name. I was half expecting you to name your future kids something like 'Biscuit' or 'Curry'," Legend snorts.

"...We did consider picking 'Sage'.”

Warrior laughs heartily before throwing a hand over Wild shoulder with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, "Can we expect that to be the second child's name then?"

"Woah, woah, woah - Let's settle down now, gentleman,” You immediately scold while also taking the chance to save your poor partner by pulling him away from the onslaught of teasing he was about to endure, “One baby at a time. It’s not easy carrying those things, just ask your wives!”

Four has been off into his own little world - That is to say, he’s been both distracted and extremely tired; a terrible mix, but hey, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Despite his eyelids feeling like bricks, he remains awake and alert, arms folded across his chest as he sits in the bedside chair keeping watch over your sleeping form. 

You need the rest more than him anyway. Your husband has been through some pretty fearsome and ravenous beasts in his time, yet your work last night easily trumpeted every hell he’s undergone himself. Best to let you sleep unless he wants to change that statement.

A series of echoed knocks send Four bolting through the house, hissing a curse under his breath before tossing the front door open with plans to scold whoever’s on the other side, yet he’s stunned into silence when he realizes it’s no poorly timed mailman, rather the very friends he had invited over…although, they did come a lot sooner than he thought they would…

“WE’VE COME TO SEE -!”

“- SHHH!!!” Four nearly smacks a hand over Wild’s face. 

“- …The baby…” Wild finishes with a whisper and a grimace.

Four quickly ushers the Chain inside, allowing them to make themselves comfortable with STRICT orders to keep the noise level down. Yes, their early visit may not have been exactly anticipated, but Four holds no ill feelings towards it, in fact, he’s rather smiley while leading them to the nursery.

“Here they are,” He practically sings, eagerly looking inside the large crib as if he, himself, still can’t get enough of its contents. He has every right to be infatuated, “These are my girls~”

Although Four is bubbling with joy as he admires his little creations, the rest of the Chain stands by with wide eyes. Some even take the time to count each baby just to confirm that they are, indeed, seeing triple. Inside lies three little newborns, each fast asleep after having about as stressful of a day as their parents.

“We’re thinking of naming them Marigold, Amber, and Camelia. You know, keep to the color theme and all…”

“Damn, three of them, huh? You didn’t hold back at all, did you, Smithy?” Warrior observes aloud, much to Four’s instant lack of amusement.

“They’re so cute~” Wind coos, Twilight having to pull him back before he accidentally falls into a crib again.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I brought some of the twins’ old stuff then,” Time hums, his smirk holding a hint of sympathy. Needless to say, he doesn’t miss those early days of juggling babies himself, as much as he loves them dearly.

Four preens at the attention his daughters get, however his smile falters when he notices Sky sticking to the very back of the group, awkwardly rubbing his arm and chewing down on his lip. Four frowns.

“...I’m sorry. We should’ve waited until we told -” He keeps his voice down as he joins the older hero who is quick to shake his head and muster his best smile.

“- No, no. We’re happy for you both. Really…” Despite the sorrow stuck in his voice, Four can tell Sky means every word of it, even the sighed: “...You’re a very lucky guy.”

“...I am,” While there could be more said, he realizes now might not be the time to discuss it. Not with so many new babies in the room.

“No wonder you wanted us to be quiet. I can barely handle one newborn at a time, let alone three at once?” Legend mumbles half to himself, his finger gently cresting one of the baby’s chubby cheeks.

“You know, if you ever find your house getting a little too quiet, you can always babysit -”

“- No way in hell. We already have our hands full as it is.”

[acexliety]

Pleasant Surprise

Bakugo Katsuki x Fem! Reader

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry for any errors.

・・・・・

Warnings: none Summary: You surprise Bakugo with something neither of you truly expected !!

The apartment was dim and quiet, soft amber lights casting long shadows across the walls as you stood in the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter. You took a slow breath, eyes drifting to the small, unmistakable object lying beside the stack of unread mail. A pregnancy test, as positive as it could be, though it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Your heart pounded with a dizzying mix of joy, anticipation, and something that felt a lot like fear.

Bakugo would be home any minute. You hadn’t planned how to tell him, hadn’t rehearsed the words, because even thinking about them left you feeling shaky, your mind swirling with what-ifs and a sudden, overwhelming sense of change.

The door opened, and Bakugo stepped in, shrugging off his jacket and muttering something under his breath about the cold. When his eyes met yours, though, he paused, one brow raised as he took in your expression, noticing how you were standing there, unmoving.

“What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone casual but edged with curiosity. His gaze flicked to the counter, and you could tell he was already working out the pieces in his mind, just waiting for the answer to click into place.

You cleared your throat, a small, nervous laugh escaping before you could stop it. “I, um… I have something to tell you.” Your fingers tapped against the countertop, fidgeting as you struggled to find words that felt right, that could somehow encapsulate the life-altering news you were about to share.

Bakugo’s brow furrowed, his usual intensity softened with concern. “Spit it out already. You’re starting to freak me out,” he muttered, crossing the kitchen to stand beside you, his gaze unwavering as he tried to read your face.

Taking a breath, you steadied yourself, finally picking up the test and holding it out to him. For a moment, he didn’t react, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the small piece of plastic, the result unmistakable in its tiny window. His eyes widened, just barely, his expression shifting from confusion to something much deeper, something almost vulnerable.

“You… You’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice quiet, barely a whisper, as if saying it out loud would somehow confirm it.

You nodded, still feeling the weight of it, the tremor in your hands as you clasped them in front of you. “Yeah. We’re… we’re having a baby.”

He looked down, and for a moment you couldn’t quite read his expression. The usually confident, grounded Bakugo was momentarily speechless, his mouth slightly open, his gaze drifting to the floor. But then, after a moment, his shoulders relaxed, and his hand reached for yours, steadying you with that familiar, grounding touch that reminded you of exactly why you’d fallen in love with him in the first place.

“Hell,” he muttered, almost to himself, before looking back up at you, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen. “I don’t know what to say.” He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I mean, damn. We’re really doing this?”

The relief that washed over you was almost dizzying, a smile breaking across your face as you nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Yeah. We are.”

Bakugo’s hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “Hey, none of that,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “You really think I’m not gonna stick by you through this? Tch, I’m not going anywhere.”

His words were simple, unembellished, but they held a promise that wrapped around you, a reassurance that he would be there through the uncertainty, through all the ups and downs you could already sense on the horizon.

“Guess this means I’ve gotta make some changes,” he muttered, half to himself, his gaze drifting to your stomach. He reached out, his hand resting lightly, tentatively, against your belly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of awe in his expression, a rare softness that he never let anyone else see.

“We’re gonna have one hell of a kid,” he finally said, a small, almost incredulous smile tugging at his lips. He looked back up, his eyes fierce and unwavering. “And I’m gonna make sure they know they’ve got the best damn parents they could ask for.”

The words settled over you, a warmth unfurling in your chest as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his heartbeat steady against yours. You closed your eyes, feeling his hand rest protectively over your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. And in that quiet, shared moment, all the fear and uncertainty faded, leaving only the weight of his promise, his presence, and the unspoken certainty that no matter what, the three of you would be alright.

⭑.ᐟ

Thank you for reading !

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 10: Breeding

warnings: smut, breeding, unprotected sex, reader is Toji's lover, oral sex(fem receiving), reader is taking the place of Mamaguro, overstimulation, slight daddy kink word count: 0.5k pairings: Toji Zenin x Fem!Reader teaser: Every time he looks at you, he sees the most perfect person in the world. Toji knows that you can’t see that when you look at him, so he’ll give you the next best thing.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi, @cherryblossombankai, @yourfavstalker25789,

@aquariius-rising, @jaeminsmilk, @sindulgent666,

@dearest-yeosang, @100520s, @awkwardchick87,

@hoesoflamentation, @shinysp4rk, @yeowangies, @chilichopsticks

Toji isn’t a charming prince, but he always charms you. Toji isn’t the dream man you often thought about, but he makes you feel so good. He warms you up in ways you didn’t think someone like him even knew how to do.

Despite your own trauma and Toji’s trauma, you two managed to have a relatively normal relationship. He confides in you, making him feel vulnerable. But it makes him feel safe and warm. It makes him feel loved for the first time in his life.

So it gets him thinking about how he could make you feel loved and happy in your life. It makes him begin to wonder how he can share this feeling with you. Every time he looks at you, he sees the most perfect person in the world. Toji knows that you can’t see that when you look at him, so he’ll give you the next best thing.

“Toji,” you whine as he has you folded in half. He grins at you.

“Yeah, what is it, princess?” He asks so casually, almost like he doesn’t have his cock so deep inside of you. 

He’s been at it for hours now. Ever since he got home, he’s been pawing at you. It started with him wrapping his arms around you when he got home and you were doing the dishes. This escalated to him kneeling down behind you and eating you out from behind. The sounds that emitted from him hand you so weak.

Then he tugged you into the bedroom, dropping on his knees once more. He devoured you like a starved man eating his last meal. The whole day he had the thought of breeding you in his mind. He was a man on a mission and he wasn’t going to stop until he knew for sure you were pregnant.

Your little moan pulls him from his daydream of what happened this evening. He smirks down at you, watching your little pussy swallow up his big cock. It’s like you were made to be bred. You were made to be bred by him specifically and it was turning him on even more. Already he had pumped two loads into you, but he just stayed hard.

He maneuvers you in whatever position he wants. Toji has you feeling so weak for him, trying to cling to him to ground yourself. He keeps pounding into you, listening to the way your pussy is being churned. It’s such a sloppy and noisy sound, and it only makes you both even more aroused than before. There’s a nice frothy, creamy ring of your mixed juices at the base of his cock.

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out now,” Toji leans in to kiss you. “We gotta make sure you get pregnant. If I give you a baby, you’ll be happy.”

His words hit you hard. You realize that he’s been trying to get you pregnant this entire time. Having a baby with Toji would be amazing. A little bundle of joy that you two could dote over. A small little thing that is so precious to both of you. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in even closer. He plunges into you deeper.

“That’s it,” he says in a smug voice. “Let me knock you up. Let daddy breed you.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[dilfl0v3rss]

Tattoo artist Connie and ony??? This is y/n first tattoo and they’re real nervous so con and ony gotta help them relax 🤭

might end up tattooing their name on that pus- nvm…

i love love love thisssss😩

first ink

cw: needles, smuttt

word count: 2.4k

never in your life did you plan on getting a tattoo. it was too scary and you absolutely hated needles. if your mom didn’t get it done when you were a baby, you doubt you would’ve even had your ears pierced. you were getting older though, and the sight of the pretty art of your friend’s bodies swayed your judgement. you became very infatuated with them, always running your fingers along them when they were with you.

“girl just go get one. tired of you caressing my stomach like i’m pregnant or sum” sasha sighed, rolling her eyes as you laughed. “sorryyyy. it’s just so pretty” your friend put her hand on top of yours, squeezing it as she looked deep into your eyes. “i love you so ima touch your hand as i say this. you need to stop being pussy and get some ink. you look like a child.” you rolled your eyes, yanking your hand from under hers as she laughed at you. that was your last straw. you told her that day that you will finally get a tattoo, making her jump for joy as she called up two of the best artists she knew.

as the two of you walked in the shop your eyes instantly met the light brown orbs of a tall man. “buenos tardes ladies. what can i do f’yo-…oh hey sash” the man came across the counter he was standing at, giving sasha a side hug before outreaching his hand towards you. “hola mami, my name’s connie. you must be y/n” he gave you a kind smile, his gold grills shining in the light before he gave you a light peck on your hand. “boy move she here for some ink, not a pregnancy scare” connie rolled his eyes, lifting his hands in surrender before walking deeper into the shop. thats when another man came out from the curtain in the back.

“wasgood sash” the man said as he walked towards his booth before sitting in the spacious chair. “this her?” he mumbled. sasha pushed you up towards them. you haven’t said a word since you got here. too in awe at the beauty of these too men. “don’t talk much do she?” connie chuckled as him and ony continued to look you over. sasha knew how you got when you met new people so she didn’t try to push you to speak. instead she wrapped her arm around you while she did the talking. “this my girl right here. she never got any shit done before other than the piercings in her ears and that was when she was a baby so i need y’all t’be real delicate with her ‘kay?”

ony and connie shared a look, eyes widening as they realized that sasha was telling the truth. there wasn’t a single thing on your body other than your small stud earrings in your ears. “yea we gotchu. come sit while i set up.” ony said, getting up from the chair to let you sit down. the sound of sasha’s phone ringing brought your attention to her. “what….girl call your mother….ughhh why i gotta do it?…whatever whatever bye” you gave her a confused look as she carried an annoyed look her her face. “i gotta get my cousin from summer school, her bad ass. i’ll be back right after i take her home ‘kay?” you gave her a wide eyed look, her cousin lived almost an hour and a half from where you were. your fear was clearly showing on your face. you couldn’t get a tattoo alone.

as if reading your mind sasha gave you a tight hug whispering in your ear. “girl i’ll be right backkkk. don’t be scared. jus breathe and focus on something else, you’ll be fine” with that she gave the two men behind you stern looks, pointing her acrylic finger at them as she spoke. “behave yourselves. it’s her first time” ony and connie both gave her quick nods before she went out the door. as ony set up his stuff you slowly sat down in the chair waiting for him. “so it’s your first time huh ma?” he said, noticing your nervousness as he looked up at your pretty face. “mhm”. your response made him chuckle as he got up from his seat next to you. “what you gettin and where you want it”

you showed him your desired tattoo, making his eyes widen as he looked at the photo. “you sure?” sasha told you that this was an easy spot so you listened to her, nodding your head quickly as a reply. ony gave you a small smile before turning towards connie, who was in one of the other chairs scrolling on his phone. “baby turn some music on. it’s quiet at hell in here”.

baby? you turned your head towards ony’s face, your quizzical look making him chuckle. “sasha ain’t tell you?” you shook your head. “of course she didn’t” before ony could speak again, the sound of psa by kay flock started to play. making ony and connie rap along to the lyrics as they continued on with what they were doing. “so what you getting mami? a butterfly?” connie asked, inked hand rubbing on his boyfriends durag covered head. “she getting a thigh tat, cute lil sun” connie nodded his head as he listened, looking at your legging covered thighs. “well y’know you gotta lose those right?” he said, pointing to the fabric. you had totally forgot, eyes widening as you internally sighed. today was not your day.

“i mean…we don’t mind, could close up the blinds and lock the doors so it can seem like we closed right now. since sasha won’t be back for awhile and ion want you just sitting here waiting f’her” you thought about his words. they seemed like nice, respectful guys. and if sasha trusts them then you knew they wouldn’t do you wrong. “okay” your soft voice made the both of their heads turn to you, making you shy away and put your gaze on your lap. “so she does speak” they both say.

~about an hour later~

“listen mama, if you don’t calm down i can’t get started. i can’t tattoo you while you shaking like this” ony said softly as he watched you twitch away from the needle for the fifth time. you had no problem taking your pants off and letting them put the stencil on you, but as soon as you heard the machine start you couldn’t get it together. “he’s right mami, y’gotta relax for us ‘kay. we not gon hurt you”

you were trying, you really were, but your body just wouldn’t relax. and you weren’t helping them either, ony was ready to pass out from the sight of your ass making your thong practically disappear. and connie was trying his hardest to make his hard on as least noticeable as possible at the sight of your teary eyes staring up at him. your pretty hands gripping his tightly as you tried your best to be calm.

“what we gotta do t’help you relax huh? you want a snack?” connie asked, smiling softly at you as you nodded your head eagerly. ony got up from his seat behind you, walking towards the back to grab you some fruit snacks. “sit up and eat em. ion want you choking or nun” he said as he passed you the packet and walked back behind the curtains. you sat up on your knees as you tried your best to open it, but your hands were too sweaty from how nervous you were. connie saw you struggling so he helped, looking down at your pretty eyes as he slowly opened it. you didn’t even notice, too focused on his pretty light brown eyes as he slowly took a fruit snack from the packet.

on instinct you opened your mouth, not knowing what came over you as you slowly sucked on his finger after he put the small miniature orange in your mouth. “you want sum else t’help you relax mami?” you couldn’t help but nod your head yes. these men were fine, and you were desperate to relax. “pa c’mere! she said she need our help to relax” ony made his was to his boyfriends side, smirking down at you as he realized what he meant. “oh we can help you with that real good”

before you knew it you were laid back in the chair, this time with your back on the end of it as connie eagerly ate your pussy on one side, and ony fed you his long dick in your mouth on the other. “that’s right ma, keep suckin it jus like that. don’t you feel better? no more shakin and cryin” ony’s words went straight to your core, making your arousal increase as you began to leak onto connie’s face. “taste so good mama, you like when he talks t’you like that huh? talks to me like that too at home. y’wanna come home wit us baby?” you instantly replied with a “mhm”. the vibrations of your voice sending ony over the edge as he shot his thick ropes down your throat.

“shittt you suck me so well mama. you gon let connie make you feel good, gon let him fuck you?” as he spoke connie began lining himself up with your entrance, rubbing his inked hands all over your stomach as he waited for you to reply. “y-yes” you said in a small voice, turning the both of them on more as connie slowly sunk into you. the stinging stretch of his dick making you whine as you tightly gripped ony’s arm. “we know mama, s’okay we here” ony coo’d at you, helping you relax as he gave connie the signal to speed up. before then he was pounding you into the chair, long light brown dick pulling loud moans and cries from you as ony stood behind him, whispering dirty words in his ear as he’d occasionally kiss up and down his boyfriends neck. his eyes never left yours as he did this, controlling the tempo of connie’s thrusts without having to lift a finger.

“there you go pretty boy. makin her feel so good” connie’s eyes were closed as he focused on the words of the man behind him. “i wanna cum in her” he whined as ony gave you a small smirk. he knew the sight of them was driving you crazy so to pleasure you further he slowly gripped connie’s neck, turning his head towards his to give him a sloppy kiss. your pussy clenched at the sight, making connie whimper into ony’s mouth as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. “m’finna cum, you want papi t’cum in you mami?” his deep voice rang in your ears, pushing your release closer as you moaned out at loud “yes”

with that connie spilled his seed deep into you, his thrusts halting to a stop as he made sure to keep you full of him. you watched ony whisper something in his here, making connie slowly pull out of you before ony took his place. “gonna make me feel good too now, that okay baby?” you quickly nodded your head yes, but he wanted more. ony teased you, rubbing his tip all over your wet clit to make you whine. “let daddy hear that pretty voice. want y’to talk me through it like i did connie” connie helped you up as ony spoke, kissing your neck as his boyfriend waited patiently in between your legs. “listen t’him mami. or he won’t give you what you want” your brain was clouded with pure lust right now as you finally replied to the man in front of you. “want you t-to fuck me”

“that’s a good girl”

~a couple hours later~

“alright all done pretty girl” ony chirped as he began to wipe the last bit of ink off your freshly done tattoo. “she’s still asleep” connie chuckled out as he sat in the chair with your pantsless body on his chest. as soon as they finished fucking you, you fell asleep so they woke you up to ask you if you still wanted the tattoo and you said yes, and who were they to deny a pretty thing like you especially after you were so good for them.

as you stirred awake you noticed you were still in the chair, a warm blanket draped over your body. you went to get up, but were stopped by a little stinging pain in your leg. “she’s up pa” connie said as he watched you from one of the couches in the waiting area, a bag of chips in his hand as he watched his show. “heyy pretty girl, we ain’t wanna wake you so we just put the blanket on t'keep you from getting cold. want some water?” you eagerly nodded your head yes as you reached for the water bottle in ony’s hand. before you got to grab it he pulled it back towards him. “lemme hear that pretty voice baby” a shy smile planted onto your face as you looked up at him. “can i have some?” a smile spread to ony’s face as well, his big inked hand transferring the bottle into your much smaller one. “good girl”

as you drank the water, connie made his way towards the two of you, a small smirk on his lips as he looked down at you next to ony. “you not gon look at your new ink?” he said. you had honestly forgot, but excitement bloomed in your stomach as you slowly moved the blanket from your thigh. there sat the beautiful sun you asked for, prettily wrapped up along with something else you didn’t see in the picture. there sat an infinity symbol in the middle of the sun with two letters in the spaces. an o and a c.

“you said you wanted t’come home wit us right? if you gon be ours you gotta rep us.” connie said before him and ony pulled up their shirts, the same infinity symbol showing on their sides with each others initials and yours in the spaces. your mouth dropped to the floor at the sight of the pretty tattoos, stomach doing flips in excitement as you realized what you had gotten yourself into.

“you ours now mama”

[authorpanda15]

WINTER

↳ hanta sero x gn!reader

a/n: I’m glad many people enjoyed my first work (50+ notes?! wowee)! i’m a big fan of hanta sero’s character, and i’m more than glad to add some extra sero content to the tags! :-) ...of course, sero isn’t the only character i’ll take requests for. hint, hint.

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

winter is sero’s least favorite season.

maybe it’s due to his swift defeat to todoroki in the sports festival, or maybe he’s always been this way and hadn’t realized it until later in life— but, sero cannot handle the colder weather.

he should’ve known better than to come out this evening, no matter how much his friends pleaded with him. he should’ve shut them down when he could, but...

“please? it’d be sooo fun!” ashido pressed.

“think of the food and games!” kaminari begged.

“it wouldn’t be very manly to miss out, dude...” kirishima griped.

he would’ve put his foot down right there and then, and told them his decision was final... had you not approached.

“are you guys talking about the winter festival?” you asked, your eyes beaming with curiousity. “I’m so excited for this year, I’m definitely going...!”

his resolve was already cracking at that point, but what really broke sero was the way you looked at him— your eyes glimmering with joy, and hope evident in your voice as you asked him, “aren’t you, sero?”

he had no choice now.

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

winter is still sero’s least favorite season.

he could be in the warm comforts of his dormitory, rocking back and forth in his hammock... instead, he’s standing in line to get some fried snack food. sero doesn’t even like fried food all that much...

but, you do.

“sero...”

as sero watches you chow down on the food you ordered, he feels the cold start to get to him.

“okay, not to sound like a buzzkill, but are we leaving anytime soon?”

“I know, I know— I’m sorry, but I can hardly feel my fingers over here!” he pulled his hands out from under his armpits, revealing his pale hands and flushed knuckles, which shake along with the rest of him.

you roll your eyes at him, eating the last of your food before tossing the paper plate into a nearby trashcan. “why didn’t you say something earlier, stupid?”

“I did, idio—” sero’s words get stuck in his throat when you grab his hands and exhale on them. sero can’t fight the way his eyes grow widen as a small gasp slips past his lips.

“...there’s gotta be someone selling hot chocolate around here,” you murmur, your eyes focused on his hands. he feels them become clammy in your hold, and he prays you don’t notice. “let’s go find them, yeah?”

“....y-yeah.”

you’re touching just his hands, and yet... he feels his face heating up, too.

winter was sero’s least favorite season.

[bonny-kookoo]

Hiii since you mentioned that we should something I was thinking if you’d like to maybe write a Drabble about unstable!jk basically announcing and/or presenting oc as his partner and the reactions since he’s usually known as being reserved ? Most of his then already noticed but like maybe with Jin’s mother when they visited?

It's kind of his own fault. He should've told them before he came over. He should've known that, despite him hating that side of himself, he still is only partly human- some instincts of his other half still present and definitely awakening now more than ever with you at his side.

The moment Jin attempts to hug you, Jungkook can feel his body move- without his command, completely on autopilot as he puts himself between the taller alien hybrid and you, who's just as surprised about it as Jungkook himself is.

"Oh!" Jin's mother immediately claps her hands together, holding them in front of her face that's completely taken over by a warm smile of anticipation. "Don't tell me-?" She almost whispers, and Jungkook rubs his neck, before he reluctantly stands behind you again, unable to keep his hands to himself however, as he keeps homd of your sleeve in an attempt to be less.. well, obvious.

"Uhm.. yes. We're partners-" he starts, when he's instantly tackled by the older woman, who hugs him first, before she does you- taking a good look at you for a good moment with shining eyes.

"Oh that's so lovely! You two are absolutely adorable together- does he treat you well? He can be a bit rough sometimes, you gotta give him a smack on the head every now and then if he acts out you hear me?" She tells you, while Seokjin is laughing so much he has to hold his stomach. "He's a man with a heart as soft as powdered sugar- so don't feel like you've got to act well just to please him-"

"I'm sure she knows that.." Jungkook growls now, slowly pulling you back closer to him, his arms around you as he stands behind you, body pressed close. "...I take good care of her.." he mumbles almost annoyed- but you know, he's most likely just a bit shy right now.

Your hands find his to hold, as you smile at the woman.

"There's nothing to worry about." You tell her. "I trust him with my life any day." You say, feeling him home you just a bit closer.

"Oh, hear that? Seokjin! Don't just stand there and celebrate your brothers shame and put some food on the table, yeah?!" She scolds, before she helps him set the table with food and drinks.

"You mean it?" Jungkook asks as you both find a small moment just for yourselves.

"Of course." You say, turning around to look at him, before you lean up while pushing his shoulders down to you, in order to find enough leverage to press a kiss to his cheek. "Trust is what love needs to grow, after all." You day, and he forgets for a moment that you're not alone, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips-

The action instantly greeted by Seokjin laughing, and his mother almost jumping with joy.

[wibben]

Hanamichi

A life measured in flowers. All of the times in his life in which Nanami received a flower.

↳ warnings: angst, major character death

↳ wc: 3,730

↳ notes: this was a collab with @tsukimefuku over what began as a silly (sad -- very sad) head canon. major credit and props to her, because without her this wouldn't exist! i had a lovely time writing this with you, and i hope we can do it again in the future!

Nanami remembered his mother’s hands, dirt under her fingernails, patient as the earth. Her garden was her temple; she greeted each flower by name, whispered as though they were children needing to be calmed. Nanami, young and fresh-eyed, watched her closely. A solemn boy with hands too small to grasp his mother’s tools, was her loyal shadow. His duty was the simple work – pulling weeds, patting down the dark soil, setting down the watering can at her nod. And when the sun hung high and the garden wore its colors proudly, his mother would offer him a single flower. "One for yourself," she’d say with a wide smile, tucking a loose curl behind her ear beneath the shrouded brim of a drooping sunhat. She’d let him choose – the reddest rose, the brightest marigold, whatever his young eyes fancied. He would carry it like a treasure back to his room, setting it with great care in a glass half-filled with water. One for him, one to keep. For a day or two, the bloom would brighten his room. He would admire it with the quiet devotion of a soul older than his had any right to be. But soon, its edges would curl, its stem would bend, and by the week’s end, it was a crumpled shadow of itself. He watched this with an unspoken sadness, something about it hurt in a way he didn’t quite understand. After a while, he stopped picking the flowers, even when his mother offered. He wanted them to stay as he saw them – in full bloom, untouched. “Why not take one?” she’d ask, her voice as gentle as the soil beneath her hands. But he’d shake his head, glancing out at the garden as though trying to memorize it all in a single look. “They’re prettier here,” he’d murmur, his voice almost too quiet to hear. And his mother would smile, ruffling soft blonde hair with those same earthy hands with a mothers pride; a lesson imparted that sometimes the things you love should be left alone, because love, in its purest form of brilliant colors and sunny smiles and dirty hands, is not about possession, but appreciation. 

******* ***

Nanami wasn’t one for friendships, nor for the loud, messy camaraderie of his classmates. He was the quiet observer, the one whose presence was easy to overlook until you needed a clear answer or a steady hand. Haibara Yu, on the other hand, was the kind of boy who made himself known in every room – friendly, loud, with an irrepressible grin and the easy charm that pulled everyone into his orbit. Haibara was the type who could wander into a stranger’s conversation and be welcomed before he’d even said his name. He would find beauty in the ordinary – a bent blade of grass, an overripe pear, fallen blossoms trodden underfoot – and he gave freely, tossing these pieces of his joy like candy. And somehow, this boy, more golden-retriever than man, became his best friend. During the brief weeks of cherry blossom season, petals blanketed the schoolyard, caught in the breeze, drifting like snow. Haibara would gather them by the handful, tossing them to anyone nearby enough to receive them; like they were something precious, and not just seasonal tree-litter. Nanami found himself on the receiving end of Haibara’s antics more often than not. One particular afternoon, Nanami was deep in a book, crouched against the wall beneath the shade of a tree, when he felt a tug at his collar. Haibara tucked a blossom behind his ear. “Perfect,” he announced, stepping back with a look of proud mischief. “Gotta add a little color to your life, Nanami! Look how pretty!” Nanami had grumbled, brushing the petal from his hair, but Haibara’s smile was contagious. Against his will, he found himself smiling, too, at the absurdity of it all. And despite his protests, he let Haibara continue – tucking flowers into his hair, hiding them in his hood, filling his pockets with petals until they spilled onto the floor. He would humor him, because he knew how deeply Haibara loved every moment of living, and how little he asked in return.

And then, the worst outcome to what should've been just a regular Tuesday happened.

There were no flowers in there. That was the first thought that seeped its way into Nanami's mind as he gazed down at Haibara's covered up body in the morgue, bloodshot eyes prickling with the pain from the day prior. No flowers, only the blossoming petals of coagulated blood that had stained the thin fabric separating what was once someone bigger than life and the harsh reality of their permanent absence.

The stark contrast between the shiny, cold, hard steel over every surface in that room left no space for the green, the pink, the yellow, the resplendent warmth of life that was alien to this mortuary monolith of death. And then, just as grief had dug its teeth around his chest, Nanami came to realize what could only be considered as some sort of self-inflicted torture.

I never gave him any flowers.

The cherry blossoms Haibara had fashioned in his hair, his clothes, all around him on that one sweet, sunny day – it had all stayed with Nanami, the memory of a beautiful moment shared with his closest person now tarnished by the weight of this painful realization. 

Was this it? Did Nanami fail his best friend so spectacularly that the first flowers he'd ever give to Haibara, someone who flourished in everyone's life, would be at his funeral? 

Was this the future reserved for the likes of him and Haibara? The beauty and tenderness of petals only reserved for when it was too little, too late?

It was only after Haibara was killed, a mission so routine that all were left reeling, that the memories stung, sharp as thorns. Sometimes, on nights thick with silence that should’ve been filled with crinkling snack bags and loud laughter well past quiet hours, Nanami would find a blossom pressed between the pages of a book Haibara had borrowed. A reminder, pink as a bleeding bruise, pinned within Nanami’s careful pages. A beautiful life, snipped with violent sheers from the garden – a blossom he’d only started to fully appreciate as its edges were already curdled with decay.

******* ***

There was a dim, unchanging silence in Nanami’s life after Haibara’s death – a grayness that blanketed every hour, every inch of his thoughts; what was a garden without a sun to feed it? It was easier to let himself drift, as though by keeping his mind empty, he might somehow avoid feeling anything at all. And in that space, Nanami found a kind of grim peace. Silence, to him, was a balm. But Gojo Satoru wouldn’t let him have it. Gojo was all brightness and noise, a sharp, irrepressible force that never leashed itself to restraint. He would show up unannounced, talk too much and too loudly, filling Nanami’s presence with his voice. And if Gojo noticed Nanami’s lack of response, he gave no indication – because Gojo Satoru was not something so trivial as the sun, he was a supernova, too brilliant to look upon. On a late afternoon, Nanami retreated to the yard – a place he’d once found calm – when Gojo appeared, holding a bundle of cherry blossoms. He approached with that signature grin, holding the flowers out as though they were some grand token of kindness, something Nanami should be grateful for. “Spring,” Gojo announced, his tone far too cheery, as though the world had every reason to celebrate. “Pretty, right?” Nanami stared at the flowers, his expression blank. The blooms looked too pink, too delicate, too flowery, too perfect. A perfect mockery of what they once meant. He took one sharp breath, feeling the tightness in his chest harden to something cold.

“Take them,” Gojo insisted, practically shoving the blossoms into Nanami’s hand. He didn’t so much as glance down. Instead, he let his hand fall, releasing the flowers without a word. They drifted to the ground, the petals scattering in a small, meaningless heap. Nanami looked away, his gaze fixed somewhere over Gojo’s shoulder, anywhere but at the person who was trying, too hard and without reason, to intrude on his grief.

“Not in the mood. Got it!” Gojo grinned. But Nanami only turned on his heel, walking away without so much as a nod. If Gojo wanted a reaction, he’d get none from him. He felt a grim satisfaction at his refusal, a confirmation that he could still draw a line when he existed in straight lines and statistics and rationality and ratios. Gojo’s flowers, now scattered and forgotten, lay where he had dropped them, as if they’d never held any meaning at all. Because there was no room for flowers in Nanami Kento’s life. They were too fragile, their supple flesh bruised too easily by the fingers of the cruel or the careless. It mattered not if he left the flower to grow in the garden, because for all the care and appreciation he could show it, it would die.

They always did.

******* ***

Nanami Kento grew up, and became a man of small routines and quiet convictions. He was disciplined and solitary, spending his days in a precise pattern of obligations: work, study, sleep, and repeat. He ate alone, walked the same routes, and carried a silence that made most people feel comfortable leaving him well enough alone. Each Monday, he went to the florist down the street from his apartment. It was a small, unremarkable shop, the kind you might pass without a second thought with sun-stained and yellowed windows and old cracked tile. Inside, the flowers were modest – no grand arrangements, no bouquets meant to wow. But every week, Nanami would stand there, studying each bunch with the seriousness he usually reserved for work. As cyclical and predictable as his mundane habits, the flowers were a commitment, something to return to at the end of each day, a small reminder that he had at least one reason to make it home. A cautionary measure of sorts, in case he faltered in his unyielding resolution to keep at his ordinary routine with his ordinary, reliable little comforts. 

They required almost nothing of him – just a fresh glass of water each morning and a moment to discard the wilting petals when they’d had their time. In return, they filled a small corner of his apartment with something bright and alive. A much needed reminder in his line of work. Once, an old colleague had asked him why he didn’t get a pet. “Seems like you could use the company,” they’d said offhand. But he had only shaken his head. A pet would require too much. They grew attached, they needed more than just water and sun – they required presence, a resource Nanami could not afford to offer, not to anyone or anything. If he died, which he viewed as inevitable, it would be left alone, a burden passed along to someone else. No, Nanami couldn't. He wouldn't.

Flowers were different. Their impermanence suited him. They were not expecting a tomorrow, and in that way, they were a comfort he could manage. Aware of his position as a jujutsu sorcerer, clearly to a fault, he'd rather not impose his absence onto another living being, and treat himself like something just as ephemeral as the petals he'd let wither every week in that quiet, little corner of his life. The flowers were not from anyone, not a gift, not a gesture of pity. They were something he gave himself, a small reminder that, perhaps, he deserved to see beauty in his own life, too. They were a nod to survival, to making it through each Monday, then Tuesday, and on and on. He’d place them in the same glass vase, set them on the same narrow ledge near his kitchen window, and allow himself a brief moment to admire the color they brought to the room. And when he returned each evening, the sight of them gave him a small, steady reason to stop, to take a breath, to continue forward. Because as much as he liked to think he was untouched by the world around him, he knew better than to believe he was anything more than mortal. And mortality, as it did for all things, would catch up with him. Nanami honed his life to a blade, sharp and solitary. He worked until the ache in his bones became as familiar as his breath, until each day bled into the next in a march toward the inevitable conclusion he would not name.

******* ***

Mahito’s touch was fire and rot. A thousand memories converged: his mother’s garden, flowers he dared not pick; Haibara’s petals, scattered across his shoulders; Gojo’s blossoms, unappreciated then, but stinging now with the ache of regret left trampled in the dirt. In the blackened periphery of his vision, those flowers now floated, eerie, fragile momentos against the creeping dark in his eyes – or eye, he thinks he has only one now. They reached out in a sea of pale blooms to guide him, open arms to welcome him home. Haibara stood just ahead, haloed in light, and Nanami couldn’t even begin to think that strange. He knew he would be there. The boys smile was as steady as it was in life, unbroken, as though death had granted him nothing but peace. He felt the ache of it most sharply, shuddering through his bloody and broken body. His old friends face like springtime, unspoiled and untouched by the brutal, shrieking world they’d been born into. He need only step forward, to sink, to fall – the cold hand caressing between his shoulder blades would shepherd him to death. But footsteps came echoing down linoleum, pulling him back as he teetered on the razors edge. Yuji. Peach-pink, a small brightness against his vision that grows darker with every cold breath. A flower himself, hopeful and stubborn, rising from the barren soil of their world. His face was desperate, broken in the way his name cracked and fell hollow from his lips with trembling hands that wilted limp to his sides. Nanami’s heart twisted; he’d known this moment would come, that the end had been creeping up behind him all this time. He feared Yuji’s grief, what it could become and what it could do, the way this scene would imprint itself deep in the boy’s memory, sinking roots that might never let go. But in Yuji’s gaze, even beneath flat horror and despair, he saw it – the strength he’d searched for his whole life, something soft and resilient. Yuji was as fragile and as enduring as a wildflower, something untouched and tenacious, able to withstand the bitterest of winds and the worst of natures cruelty. Nanami saw it clearly: Yuji would grow, rise from ruin, bright and alive. He would persist. The edges of his world blurred, discordant shapes curling in the melting pot of his eye, and with a last, soft breath and his best attempt at a smile, Nanami gave what faith he had left. “You’ve got it from here.”

******* ***

The quietude solemnly prevailed over the debris and decay of Shinjuku, and for a fleeting moment, Gojo thought of the irony, how come such chaos left in its wake this indelible absence of sound? No birds chirped in the morning, nor any other animals dared to venture through the battle-scarred surroundings, no man's land for those who insisted on staying behind to fight the King of Curses. 

The silence that laid there laid bare in mourning for the losses.

Gojo gazed out the window as the gray sun set behind a curtain of gray clouds cast over the gray skyline, torn-down buildings scattered all over the gray terrain and pillaged wreckage. The air itself weaved flecks of soot and inhospitality, and it had been days since he saw a murmur of life dredging its way through the barren landscape — a small humming bird, that fleetingly passed its way outside their makeshift bunker before disappearing just as fast as it had come.

In this prevalent, overwhelming absence of green, the best he could haphazardly improvise was poaching a plastic flower from one of the many florals centerpieces on sale in an abandoned, ransacked store around the area. That, and a single incense, with a simple, small, black square incense holder.

Over the windowsill, the sorcerer placed one single faux white rose, the edges of its petals frail and frazzled under dust blemishes. Beside it, Gojo positioned the holder with a simple byakudan incense propped up by the holder's snug. It stood proudly, even if ideally, Gojo would've preferred to spare the right amount of incenses, time, effort, and flowers to hold a proper otsuya in honor of his fallen friend. The incense's smoke snaked and swirled in the air in a lonely stream, and just as Gojo himself, the solitude of the moment he held away from his students and colleagues ensured him once more.

We all die alone. Just like Nanami did.

Joining both his hands in front of his chest in a prayer, Gojo surrendered his six eyes to the quiet, closing his eyelids, regarding the silence for a moment with careful consideration, a small gesture of affection he spared for those he truly cared about. He wondered, caught up in thoughts, if he should indeed chant a sutra in the ratio sorcerer's honor, and as a trick of his imagination bringing forth the amalgam of impressions and memories ingrained in his mind, Gojo could hear the faint ghost of Nanami's voice. He could hear in the measured, precise beats of his usual nonchalant tone how unnecessary that was, and that Gojo, as the strongest, should waste no precious time in other endeavors that weren't dedicated to slay the evil which had brought destruction over Japan. And he heard, just as faintly, that same voice recede quietly in empathetic acceptance of his irrational need to honor a departed colleague.

For all his methodical regard over human matters, Nanami was inexorably kind at heart, clearly to a fault.

Clearly to death. 

"Gojo sensei?" a minute whisper cut through the somber silence, and Gojo turned around to look at the two who stepped into his solitary funeral rite. Yuji and Ino stood in the doorway, gazing at him and then at the makeshift, simple altar he had concocted with those few looted items. Upon realizing what Gojo was probably doing, Yuji apologized, and explained, "we were looking for you. We didn't mean to intrude."

"It's alright," Gojo replied, his usual smile forming over his face as a force of habit for his students’ benefit.

Ino regarded the scene in front of him attentively, remembering that earlier, on that very same day, Gojo had finally learned about Nanami's death during the Shibuya incident. Thoughtfully, he inquired, "is this an otsuya for Nanami?"

Gojo was slightly surprised, but not from the keen observation skills of Ino – after all, he was his mentee, Nanami's mentee. Gojo just didn't have in mind he'd find himself in this very scenario, even in all likelihood of that happening. 

"Yes, yes it is," he conceded.

"I'd like to pay my respects too," Yuji stated, stepping forward towards his teacher, "if that would be okay."

"Me too," Ino followed, approaching them both with measured steps. He briefly noticed the unkempt state of the rose Gojo had put as an offering on the windowsill, and it crossed his mind with a stinging amusement how much Nanami would be equal parts offended and grateful for this thoughtful gesture done in such a haphazard manner, even if he probably would only voice the former. Funerals, after all, were impractical. They served as vehicles of grief for the living, not the dead who had long since been shepherded along past whichever mortal veil awaited them. And in this desolate land of ruin and war, where grief hung heavy and pressed bowed heads all the lower, there was still beauty to be found in this small act of rebellion against death. A kind of garden bloomed in that space – not one of petals or green things, but the connections left behind, roots that dug deep, holding fast even in barren soil. A garden of the heart, built on friendship, quiet appreciation, and the stubborn will to live and remember. 

And in that sacred silence, Nanami would have clapped Ino on the back in the way he never did in life, a chuckle in his throat as he chided him with a quiet, “real men cry, Ino.” Ino’s jaw trembled, his hands tight at his sides, a breath held in with solemn determination not to let tears fall. Nanami might have approved, or perhaps he’d have nudged him closer to grief with a final, gentle insistence: some burdens were meant to be shared.

Yuji stood apart, eyes wide and carrying grief in the fragile way of youth. Nanami would watch with a quiet ache, recognizing that herculean weight Yuji bore, a burden he’d taken on willingly but never asked for. In Yuji, Nanami saw an echo of his younger self – a boy carrying the burdens meant for a man, each step of the path cobbled by the failure of the adults around him. Perhaps, in another life, he might have been there to guide him further, to offer the steady strength of a fathers hand. But here, from this distance, he could only hope that Yuji knew: he had done enough.

At Gojo’s side, Nanami would have stood without a word, a silent presence where no more needed to be said. He’d never dared it in life, never felt it his right to stand beside a man who seemed less human than some cosmic force. But here, in death, he allowed himself to be steady and still, a quiet echo of companionship he never afforded himself. And as Gojo’s eyes slid sideways, a faint, knowing flicker, Nanami wondered if he knew.

In the end, Nanami had left little behind, yet these three, brighter than any flower, were a bouquet of all he’d valued. An oasis, growing fast even in the shadowed, broken heart of Shinjuku. The smoke drifted higher, and somewhere beyond it all, Nanami stood watch, as those three blossoms remained forever in full bloom.

[nolita-fairytale]

don't you worry, there's still time | chef luca x fem!reader, feat. marcus brooks

summary: after losing his mother, marcus searches for joy and stillness in copenhagen. you and luca, who are more than happy to host, decide to take a big next step in your relationship. a oneshot from the world of 'burn your life down.'

warnings: fluff, light angst, grief, death, light smut, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, off-canon connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 5.8k

listen to: the playlist

a/n: wow, i missed this world! who is ready for the reveal of chef's restaurant name?! while i don't think i have the bandwidth to write another full series (nor a linear story to tell) i'm thinking of creating a second part to 'burn your life down' where we just get to drop in and see what they're up to. thoughts??

chef luca masterlist | full masterlist

After a tumultuous holiday season, it doesn’t take long for Sydney to realize that her friend is in need of a little help. A reprieve, she so kindly explained to both Marcus and Carmy when she’d proposed the idea. 

It was Sydney this time, who called Luca, knowing that she and Carmy would have to find something to do with Marcus. It wasn’t fair – that he’d lost his mom just before Thanksgiving – and they both agreed that Marcus needed to get out of dodge. Quick to act, Carmy set up a few stages in NYC for a week or so, which, while seemed to inspire Marcus, seemed to only plunge him further into a slump come Christmas. “I don’t know. I think we gotta send him on some kinda… eat, pray, love trip. The guy can only sulk on my couch for so long before I consider jumping out of the window,” Sydney says, her attempt to lighten the mood with humor still genuine. “It’s getting sad, Carm. Like… real fuckin’ sad.”

“You’re right. Uh… what about Copenhagen?” Carmy pitches with a shrug, because he knows what all consuming grief feels like. 

“Again?” she asks, uncertain of whether it’s the best choice that they could make. 

“Yeah,” Carmy shrugs in response. “Think he got a lot of it last time. Could be good for him to go back to somewhere familiar… work with Luca again. You don’t think it’s a-?”

“No I do! I just-,” Sydney hesitates, though she knows her business partner makes a good point. “Familiarity will be good for him. To be around people he can trust.”

“You want me to uh-,” Carmy begins to offer, figuring he’ll make the call. 

“Probably best if I explain the situation. Just ‘cause, you know, I know more of what’s going on… just send me his info and I’ll call later,” Sydney interjects. 

Carmy agrees with a curt nod before adding in:

“Uh… okay yeah. Yeah.”

*

You get plenty of time to prepare for Marcus’ visit, performing all kinds of fancy footwork to arrange a proper visit – a week’s worth of time spent staging and living in Copenhagen. When Luca finds out that the prolific houseboat, a chef retreat of sorts that’s always been an option for lodging, is booked for the week and a half that Marcus plans on visiting, you offer up your place without hesitation. 

The arrangement goes as follows: while Marcus stays at yours at no cost, you’ll stay with Luca for the duration of the time. 

This is how you find yourself at the massive Ikea on Dybbølsbro on a Saturday morning with Luca, in search of a set of fresh bed linens intended for guests. 

“I really should host more. And Astrid said she and Lina were planning a trip out here so… why not kill two birds with one stone?” you’d reasoned to your boyfriend, making a strong case for why you and Luca should make this little shopping trip. 

“What do you think of the blue?” Luca asks you, as you run your hand over a set of the display sheets, checking for softness. 

“Don’t know if the blue is what I’m going for. I was thinking of something warmer. Maybe a yellow or… I don’t know. I’ve kind of been into that trendy rust color as of late,” you reply with a shrug, moving onto the warmer colors. 

Luca chuckles and with a small shake of his head, he clarifies his previous questions with:

“No, I meant for me.”

“What do you mean?” you ask him curiously, his comment pulling all of your focus as you search his face for answers. “You just got new bedding.” 

And expensive ones too. 

But as your eyes follow his gaze, you realize that he’s not talking about sheets, focused on the XL Twin-sized duvets just above where the sheets messily fall along the shelf. 

“I was thinking…” Luca trails off, checking in with you before he continues, with “... maybe it’s time I get two duvets… you know… for us.” He takes a beat, and a step towards you, and you know you’ll never stand a chance against his boyish charm as one side of his mouth turns up into a smile. 

You’re no stranger to the Scandinavian duvet method – two twin duvets for one king sized bed – but it sounds like Luca’s suggestion is about way more than buying an extra duvet on this trip. 

“I want you to feel at home… at my place."

“I do,” you reply, almost instantly, a warmth spreading through your belly as you take a step towards him. 

“But I mean really… feel like it’s your home. Because it is. It could be. You know… if you want it to be,” Luca continues, this time with more insistence, a look of hopefulness in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you… are you asking me to move in with you?” you manage to get out, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Why not? We could use this week to try it out,” he suggests so casually that you practically have to do a double take. “See how it goes while Marcus stays at your place?”

“Yeah I-... that sounds like a good plan, yeah,” you stammer out, the grin on your face undeniable as you nod enthusiastically in the middle of a goddamn furniture store. 

“Besides,” Luca says, clearing his throat as his tone changes to one that’s much more playful. “You’re an absolute blanket hog and a repeat offender at that.” Luca winks your way as you roll your eyes with a laugh in response. “This could prevent some of our silly little quarrels, don’t you think, love?” 

“Uh huh,” you sound, your face skeptical as you look his way again. “Preventative measures. Sure, babe.”

Luca chuckles before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, right then and there, in the Ikea bed linen section, the place you’ll now forever think of as the place your boyfriend asked you to move in with him.

Connection

When Marcus arrives in Copenhagen, you’ve arranged your home with the most comfort in mind, having already packed a week’s worth of things and left for Luca’s. You can only imagine what he must be going through, deciding that something like that – losing your mother – though inevitable, is your goddamn worst nightmare. 

“Marcus, 

Enjoy your stay and please reach out if you need anything. I can’t wait to meet you!”

…is the note that you leave him, along with a few morning pastries you picked up from your favorite baggeri across the street, and your number scribbled down at the bottom of the notepad. 

As Marcus arrives, his eyes drawn immediately to your note and gift, Marcus smiles to himself, noticing that you left a very nice looking bottle of wine on the counter as well. He’s moved by your generosity, considering you’ve never met, and the fact that you’re willing to take so much care, extend this much kindness to a stranger, causes a wave of softness to wash over him. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can find softness again – the last few months riddled with pain, grief, and numbness to get through the days. 

While he came here to work, encouraged by his friends that a change of scenery may do his broken heart some good, it’s the first time Marcus has had a chance to be still. His feelings of grief sit heavier here and it catches him off guard, uncertain that he’s quite ready to sit with them yet. He pushes aside the thought, focusing on exploring your home and unpacking his bags. Marcus knows how to stay busy – he’s become an expert at it by now – reminding himself that he’s got work at 5 am sharp tomorrow.

*

“A little too much, chef. Take it down by about 15 grams,” Luca directs, his voice even and sure as he inspects the balls of dough that Marcus currently shapes. 

“Yes, chef,” Marcus nods in understanding, plopping the ball of dough back on the scale to adjust the measurement. 

The two of them work like this for the rest of the morning, Luca treading carefully while keeping things professional, while Marcus buries himself in the work – something that feels good, safe, right. 

He’s missed this. While Marcus has one chef he works with directly at the restaurant, he’s the expert – the head patissier. He misses being surrounded by excellence, getting to be a student of someone who is just as driven, if not more, and inspired. It’s good, quiet, calm, yet there’s a focus and intensity in Luca’s kitchen that feels like a breath of fresh air. 

His stage trip to New York has been more of a mess than beneficial. Maybe it had been the chaos of the city, or the chaos of the chefs he was working with. Maybe it was the fact that Marcus, though hungry for a distraction, hadn’t quite been ready to walk directly into the line of fire yet.

As Marcus’ practiced hands move with the dough, there’s a newfound confidence in the way that he works that's not lost on Luca. Luca watches his friend carefully, pride swelling in his chest as his mentee makes the adjustment with ease and diligence.

“Can I join you?” Luca asks, gesturing towards Marcus' workstation. 

“‘Course, chef,” Marcus replies, his response short yet reverent. 

As Luca joins him, finding a space to the right of Marcus, he busies his hands with rolling each perfectly measured ball of dough into mini boules, ready to proof. The two of them work quietly, side by side, the air between them heavy with words unsaid. He can feel it – the weight that lays so heavily on Marcus' heart – but Luca doesn’t want to bring it up, uninterested in forcing the conversation. Especially about something so painful, something he knows that Marcus has barely begun working through. 

“Thanks, again. For uh… you know… letting me come work,” Marcus begins, momentarily checking in with Luca to gauge a reaction. 

“‘Course,” Luca replies, his answer instantaneous. “You’re welcome here any time, mate.” 

“Yeah?” Marcus asks, stealing a glance in Luca’s direction.

“Yeah,” Luca responds with a certain nod. 

“And uh… shit. I can’t thank your girlfriend enough for letting me crash at her place,” Marcus adds, as he works through his discomfort and overwhelm from the wave of feelings that begin to bubble up in his chest.

“You can thank her yourself on Saturday,” Luca brings up, excited over the fact that Marcus will not only be meeting his girlfriend, but staging at her restaurant too. “She’s really looking forward to meeting you.” 

Marcus nods slowly, his hands the only steady thing about him as he continues to focus on his work. 

“I just mean-, well, she didn’t have to-. ‘S not like either of you owed it to me or anything and I-. You guys just really came through…” Marcus trails off, wanting to make his gratitude clear. It means more to him that he can articulate so instead he settles for, “So thank you. Again.”

Luca shrugs with an aplomb about him as he returns with, “We got you, mate.” He pauses before continuing, fully aware that Marcus isn’t quite comfortable with the feelings that have presented themself in this moment. “And the way I see it, I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you – for our conversation the last time you were here – so we really do owe you for it.”

This time Luca makes an effort to check in with Marcus, gauging his emotional capacity as he concludes with:

“But that’s not what any of this is about: debts, who owes who what. We were both more than happy to host you. That’s what mates are for.”

It’s not till the end of the next shift that it hits him, and Marcus finds himself sitting outside of the restaurant on a bench across the street. He’s not sure whether it’s the jet lag or the exhaustion of the 5 am start time in another time zone, but it hits him all at once, like a ton of bricks. Suddenly consumed with the feelings that he’s been trying his best to avoid, all he can do is pause, completely caught off guard by the strength of them. 

Quietly, Luca joins him, having spotted him on his way home, rerouting himself in Marcus’ direction instead. 

All he can think of are the words you’ve asked him, and he you, time and time again – the ones that cut right to the core of you each and every time – that show you how much he cares. 

“How’s your heart?” Luca asks Marcus, after a few minutes of sitting on the bench together in silence. 

And how is his heart? 

He’s not sure how to answer, considering it’s been a while since he’s really had a chance to check in, the crippling reality of this great loss is too much to bear alone. 

His heart is broken, shattered into an infinite amount of pieces. 

He, and his heart will never be the same again and he doesn’t know where or how he’ll ever put it back together. 

His heart is… lost, in desperate need of finding a soft place to land. 

Marcus takes a while to answer, racking his brain for any semblance of a cohesive answer. 

He waits. And then he waits. 

Until finally, he can answer. 

“I uh… don’t know. But I’m hoping this trip will help me figure that out.”

Creativity 

“do you remember the 21st night of september? love was changin' the minds of pretenders while chasin' the clouds away.” (earth, wind, and fire.)

Everything about the way you run your kitchen feels different than what he’s used to. 

It’s sure as hell different from his last stage trip to New York, Marcus thinks to himself.

With Carmy and Syd, working with them, there’s a buzz of chaos that runs underneath even the most organized and efficient service. It’s something integral to what they have, gives an edge to The Bear that seems to make it hum in all the right ways. Even with Luca, who comes from fine dining and Michelin-starred restaurants, there’s a quiet and determined focus – an intensity to his work – even without the undercurrent of chaos. 

But this. But you. 

Your kitchen somehow teeters the line of organized chaos and reckless play so well that Marcus understands why this works – why it’s efficient. 

Still, he watches as you and your staff dance – no, literally dance – around each other to the highly recognizable Earth, Wind, and Fire tune. Mathilde sings along while chopping chives for the brothy mushroom grain bowl, while, mid-phrase, manages to yell out a short command to a line cook in Danish. Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus catches Jesper working the dining room, while you finish plating two more dishes, ready to be walked out. 

It’s as if you find focus in the center of all the noise, somewhere between the electric energy between you, Mathilde, and your staff, and the feel-good vibes and homeyness of the restaurant that you’ve created. 

You had been more than welcoming when Marcus had walked through the doors of your restaurant, Kokuore, mere hours ago. You’d given him the tour, shown him which station he’d be working this evening, then warmly introduced him to your entire team before family meal started. Marcus can’t stop moving, too afraid to be still in fear of falling apart in the presence of how comforting you’ve been. 

And this? Your kitchen. It’s all joy, connection, and artistry. 

It’s not hard for him to see why Luca fell in love with you. 

“Marcus, feel free to take a break,” he hears you say, as you nod towards the dining room through the open kitchen. 

As Marcus follows your gesture, he notices that Luca’s arrived, remembering something about a standing Saturday date. 

“You sure, chef?” Marcus asks, looking to you for approval. 

“Positive,” you nod, reassuringly.

Marcus nods in return to confirm, before taking his apron off and making his way over to the dining room where Luca is exchanging a few words with Jesper. 

“Wassup, chef,” he greets his mentor. 

“You know, you can call me Luca,” Luca reminds him with a crooked smile. “At least when we’re off the clock.”

Marcus chuckles, “Uh… yeah alright. That’s gonna take some getting used to.” 

Luca chuckles in return, before Jesper shows them to his table, mentioning something about Americans being so afraid of fluidity. 

“She’s brilliant isn’t she?” Luca asks, in reference to you as his eyes catch yours from across the room. 

“Nah for real. Like… mad scientist vibes,” Marcus concurs with a smile. “She can throw down for sure.” He pauses as they sit down at Luca’s table. “So you come every Saturday night, huh?”

“When I can, yeah, which is… most Saturdays,” Luca replies honestly, before beginning to list why he’s kept up this routine. “But it’s nice. Keeps me inspired. I get to see my girl, walk her home at night which makes me feel better.” Luca leans back in his chair this time, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I never mind helping close down at the end of the night.”

Marcus hums in response before one of the waitstaff comes to their table, with a glass of wine in hand, on the house. They chat for a little longer before Marcus returns to the kitchen, his excitement for what you’re doing here filling him to the brim. 

As dinner service comes to an end, Marcus can’t help but notice the chemistry and how unique it is as you all work together in perfect harmony. There’s a warmth to it, something different, and he begins to understand why the name of the restaurant comes from the word, heart. 

Luca is quick to get up from his table, quickly finishing his glass of wine as he offers to help close down. The music volume goes from underscoring the buzz of a busy night of service, to the main attraction, as a motown throwbacks playlist begins to blare from the speakers. You all work quickly and efficiently, eager to close down, get home, and begin your weekends, but it’s when an old Otis Redding track that Luca decides to put a pause on the progress. 

“Dance with me, my love,” he says, offering his hand out to you as a huge gesture that earns a few looks and giggles from some of your staff. 

“Luca,” you begin to protest, looking around. 

“You can take three minutes,” he offers, exchanging a look with you this time. 

You nod, taking his hand as you agree with, “Okay.”

And as Luca wraps you up in his arms, engaging you in a slow dance to Otis Redding’s “That’s How Strong my Love is,” you chuckle, relaxing into him.

“Oh, get a room, you two!” Jesper calls out after you, teasingly. 

“She pretends – always puts up a fight – as if they don’t do this every single week,” Mathilde adds, as an explanation to Marcus. 

“Every week?” Marcus asks, a little surprised by both you and Luca’s willingness to pause and revel in a moment with each other, instead of just pushing through. 

“Yeah. Romantics, they are,” Jesper chimes in. 

Marcus smiles to himself. It’s a reminder of slowness – something he hasn’t let himself experience in a long time – and for just a moment, he lets himself settle into the feeling. 

*

You don’t even mind that you woke up an hour before your alarm the moment you feel Luca’s arms wrapped around you, and his lips against your soft skin. The low rumble of his voice resonates across your shoulders, sending chills down your spine as you arch into his hands, his arms wrapped around you. 

“I know we’re only a few days in… of our little trial,” Luca begins, the bass of his voice reverberating through your shoulder blade.

“Our living together trial?” you clarify with your ask, letting out a gasp as he nibbles on your shoulder gently. 

“Yeah. Just wonderin’ where your mind’s at,” Luca murmurs, his eager hands beginning to explore underneath the oversized shirt you put on before bed last night. 

“Well… I really like this,” you reply, the sound that comes out of your mouth somewhere between a giggle and a moan. 

“Hmmmm?” Luca sounds, innocently. 

“This… Waking up to you thing.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mhm.”

Luca’s name escapes your lips as his fingers gently begin to play with your nipples, his erection hard against your back as you begin to grind your hips back against. 

“And the access to round the clock sex is really a bonus,” you sigh, blissfully. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks you again, a large tatted hand slipping between your legs. 

“Yeah… I’d even be… interested in leaning into that part… right now,” you hiss in reply to his touch. “Considering you’re distracting me with sex.”

“Hmmmmm. ‘S not just it, love. Have I told you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Marcus?” Luca asks, his mouth back on your neck. He presses your body against him, your back to his chest as he rocks his hips against yours. 

“Luca!” you protest, unable to focus on the conversation. 

“It’s your kindness. Your heart… I’m in awe of it,” he continues to praise you as the two of you begin to set a rhythm between your bodies. 

It’s all heat, and soft sighs of pleasure, and foreplay.

“Well, I know a little something about what he’s going through,” you answer breathlessly. You begin to impatiently push the hem of your shirt higher so that you can give Luca more access to your body. 

“That’s why I love you,” Luca murmurs into your skin, his hands all over you, his focus unbroken and your mind beginning to go blank. His hands are tearing your shirt over your head as he continues to praise you. “Your heart, the way you share it.”

“You helped me get there, baby,” you gasp, turning your head so that you can kiss your boyfriend. 

Instead of answering, Luca nods knowingly, before crashing his lips into yours. His mouth on yours feels like heaven, and you can’t believe that you ever fought your feelings for him. 

“Ah fuck it. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together,” you surrender to him, lost in the moment. 

“Yeah?” Luca pauses, pulling away, as if almost can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yeah. I mean it, baby,” you nod, catching his gaze, certain in the way you answer. “I wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Me too, my love,” Luca grins, before pressing his lips to yours again. “Now will you please let me fuck you, darling?”

“Fuck yes.”

Luca spends the next hour showing you just how grateful he is for you, while you in return, spend the next hour showing him just how sure you are about this decision. 

And you are sure. If mornings like this are a constant for the rest of your life, you think you’ll die a happy woman. 

You’ve found a home in him, and he, you. He’s the person you want to come home to at the end of the day. He’s the man that puts a smile on your face every single time he gets on his soapbox about how Beyonce is the performer of your lifetimes, and he is unequivocally the best, most unexpected thing in your life. 

Luca Davies, in almost a year of knowing him, and eight months of getting to love him, has somehow become your favorite person. 

By the time you and Luca are both showered and decent-for-company, you’ve begun your mise en place for brunch, completely content with the fact that you’re running a little behind schedule (and in all fairness, the sex was worth it – it’s always worth it). The smell of bacon sizzling away on your carbon steel fry pan fills the entire apartment, and you’re glad that Luca opened a window earlier. It’s not exactly window weather yet, but the air ventilation is a must when it comes to smoked meats.

While you play catch up with your brunch plan, Luca’s busy welcoming Marcus in, pouring him a cup of coffee using the extensive ten-step pour over he’s been fixated on ever since he purchased it, while they chat here and there about what else he’s explored in Denmark. 

“Been too busy working, to be honest but… I don’t know. I might wander around today… see what kind of stuff I can get into,” Marcus answers frankly with a shrug. 

“Ah, mate. We just had a walk at the Frederiksberg Gardens. Definitely something I’d recommend checking out,” Luca suggests, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he mentions it. 

Luca continues moving through his list of recommendations, Marcus chiming in with places and things he did the last time he was here, excited to spend a few days exploring the city instead of just working. 

“Wanderin’ around. I dunno. There’s something about it. ‘S good for the spirit, you know?” Luca concludes. 

“Yeah,” Marcus nods in agreement, before turning his attention over to the French toast you’re working on. “Okay, I see you. What is that? Mascarpone?”

“Yeah, good eye. It’s just something new I’m working on: a mascarpone stuffed french toast. We’re actually talking about extending our hours… maybe doing weekend brunch,” you answer thoroughly, as you dip the stuffed pieces of bread into their egg batter, pre-cook. 

“For real? That’s sick,” Marcus compliments, watching you carefully. “I mean… shit. You could have a whole brunch spot.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your cutting board. 

“A Brunch spot,” Marcus repeats, simply, the excitement in his eyes at the new idea, evident. “Yeah, you know. Luca could do the morning pastries. You work your magic on the rest of the menu.”

“That’s a novel idea! What do you think, my love?” Luca asks, intrigue in his voice as he searches your face for a reaction. 

“I-,” you begin, looking from Luca to Marcus, then back to Luca again. “I… never thought about it like that.” You take a beat, eyeing Luca carefully. “We’ve never talked about going into business together.”

Marcus shrugs, before picking up his coffee mug, “Yo, it’s just a thought. I think you two would be unstoppable together.”

“Unstoppable, eh?” Luca asks, his eyes locked with yours. 

You only hum in response, raising a quirked eyebrow in Luca’s direction before adding:

“It’s certainly one hell of an idea, Marcus.”

Kokuore

Monday afternoon, you find yourself at your restaurant with Marcus Brooks, on a day off. 

“I might need a little extra help with something tomorrow. We’re closed tomorrow, but I want to get ahead on this special I’m working on. Could use the help of a pastry chef. What do you say?” you’d proposed to him, over one more espresso before he left. 

To Luca’s dismay, (“ you silly Americans just can’t enjoy a day of doing nothing,” he’d teased the two of you) Marcus had given you an unwavering yes, reassuring you that he was down to learn everything he possibly could from you, especially while he was here. 

And it’s true. You do need the help. But should he want someone to talk to – someone who gets it, even just a little bit – you want to offer him the space and the opportunity to do so.

“As a patissier, do you get tasked with pasta? At The Bear?” you ask Marcus, as you pleat a dumpling in hand with a speed that only comes with practice. 

“Nah,” Marcus sounds, his focus on the dumpling he’s pleating too. His concentration on getting the pleats right is reverent and unbroken, even as he answers your question. “Our head chef, Carmy, he uh… he comes from an Italian American family so when we’ve done a stuffed pasta… he usually takes the lead on that.” 

You nod in understanding, placing the dumpling you’ve just finished down on the full-sized sheet pan. The two of you sit across from each other, having pushed a few dining tables together as a makeshift workstation. 

“Think Luca’ll take over this kinda stuff when you guys open a restaurant together?” Marcus asks, lightheartedly pushing his agenda from yesterday. 

You laugh in response, your hands working quickly on yet another dumpling. 

“For someone with no skin in the game, you’re really insistent on this idea,” you tease him in return. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” Marcus pushes right back, his tone still light. 

“I…” you sigh, trailing off as you pause your work for a moment. “You know, we just said we’d move in together. That and a restaurant? Feels fast.” 

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Like… a few hours before you came over for brunch,” you elaborate, earning a whistle from Marcus. The two of you exchange a look, and a laugh, as you pick up another dumpling wrapper that you and Marcus rolled out together earlier. 

“It’s a good idea though,” you add, stealing a glance his way so that he knows that you’re serious. 

“Well, when you two inevitably do open a restaurant… I want ten percent,” Marcus jokes, earning another laugh from you. 

“Deal,” you agree with him. 

You and Marcus work like this, exchanging a few words, the conversation light, underscored by a softer acoustic soundtrack from one of your Spotify radio stations.

“So how’d you learn to cook like this?” Marcus asks you curiously. 

“Uh…” you hesitate, treading carefully as you realize this conversation could open a can of worms. 

“I don’t know how much Luca’s told you about me… but I was married… before him,” you begin, cautiously. “And… well, I learned a lot of this… a lot of traditional Japanese cooking from my mother-in-law.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. These are her dumplings actually – her recipe. She passed away last Fall and… well, it was important to me to celebrate her – to celebrate her life – by creating a few dishes for her,” you continue, and it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “We’re bringing this one back as a special this month but um… yeah. I’m… still very much grieving and… it helps me remember her. Cooking her food helps me feel close to her, you know?”

“Yeah,” Marcus sighs, his heart heavy as he exhales. 

He waits a beat. 

And then another, having paused his work as he watches you pleat, head down, with expert hands. 

The silence between you and Marcus is full, heavy, connected by shared experience. You wait for Marcus to say something, and when he doesn’t, you decide to continue. 

“This restaurant… has so much of my heart in it: it’s got my love for Italian food from growing up in my best friend’s family’s restaurant, and it’s got my love for her – for Aiko – and everything she taught me,” you begin to explain. “And lately… it’s got a fresh perspective… inspired by the love I have with Luca, I think. Well, I know. Inspired by him… how this place brought us together.”

“The name itself is… totally made up, but means a lot to me. The Japanese word for heart is, kokoro, and the Italian word for heart is, cuore. Somehow an homage to my past… and was… Prophetic in so many ways too.” 

As Marcus listens, Luca’s previous question lingers in his head:

How’s your heart?

At the time he didn’t know how to answer, and after five days in Copenhagen – after five days of doing what he loves in a place that he loves – his heart is somehow so full, yet so broken all at once. He’s filled with deep sorrow and with the spark of creativity all at the same time, and he’s just not sure how to hold all of this feeling inside of him. 

Marcus waits a beat, opens his mouth, then lets the words fall out. 

“It’s evident. In your food,” is all he manages to say. “It’s got soul. It’s got heart. I-, it’s inspiring. That’s for sure.” 

“I made a dish. For Michael,” Marcus adds, his eyes on the dumpling he works on, but the guard on his heart beginning to fall away. “He was uh… well, he was the old owner of the restaurant, called The Beef back then. Carmy took over after he died. Felt right to honor him and his life, you know? When we reopened as The Bear.”

“Food is… it’s our art, you know?” you agree. “Sometimes it’s the only way I know how to express myself and… sometimes it’s just the thing that makes sense.”

“Yeah.”

A beat. 

“Maybe one day I can make one for my mom,” Marcus says, his voice stuck in his throat as he admits, “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. But I think… I think I’d like to eventually.” 

“Of course,” you reassure him gently. “You don’t have to be ready now. You don’t have to be ready ever. But when you are, your art will always be there.” 

“Thanks,” Marcus nods solemnly. 

You get up this time, realizing the sheet pan is full, and ready to be placed on the baker’s rack. As you return to the table with a new empty sheet pan, lined with parchment paper, Marcus finally asks you, his eyes soft, the heartbreak in them present. 

“How’d you get through? You know. Losing her? Your mother-in-law?” 

You return to your chair with a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll let you know when I do,” you answer, letting up a soft chuckle. “It helps to have good people and… from what Luca’s told me, you do. But… I had to let ‘em in, let ‘em help me. Let ‘em love me. And in all honesty, most days I’m still just… taking it day by day.” 

“Yeah, I-. I do. I got some really good people. Back home,” Marcus drags out slowly. 

“Then that’s all that matters. Your people and your heart. The rest… you just-,” you start. 

“Take day by day?” Marcus interjects, pausing to catch your eyes. 

You and Marcus exchange a knowing look, the recognition of each others’ pain is met with empathy. 

“Yeah. I think that's all we can do.”

By the end of your work session with Marcus, you’re ready to head home so that you can spend the rest of the day with Luca. 

“What’re you gonna do with the rest of your day?” you ask Marcus, curiously. 

With a sigh, and then a shrug, and a heart that feels just a little lighter, he answers with:

“Think I might wander around a bit. Someone once told me it’s good for the spirit.”

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages | Part Nine

Word Count: 2.1k

Parings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x Reader

A/N: I will eventually make a masterpost lol this chatoer is kinda meh…

Masterlist

—-

The Jet

“Can this thing fly any faster?” Bucky’s voice was tense, almost frantic.

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to keep calm despite Bucky’s agitation. “It’s going as fast as it can”

“It’s not fast enough!” Bucky snapped, slamming his fist against the plane’s wall in frustration.

“And it won’t go any faster if you punch holes in it,” Sam shot back, trying to keep his voice steady, though he couldn’t help the edge of irritation that slipped through.

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, collapsing back into his seat. He dragged his hands over his face, his groan muffled by his palms. “I’m so stupid, Sam. So stupid.”

“Well, that I already knew,” Sam quipped, forcing a small laugh to lighten the mood. But when Bucky didn’t respond, he grew serious. “What happened, man? I’m in the dark here.”

Bucky stared blankly at the floor, lost in thought. “We went to this diner, the one that’s still around from before… the one they kept as a monument for Steve, it used to be our hangout spot, the three of us.” A faint, bittersweet smile crossed his lips as he remembered. “I didn’t go there planning to do what I did, Sam….you gotta know that. But when she looked at me, she had so much joy and love in her eyes. She was talking about one of the times we went there, and I just… panicked. I can’t be him anymore, the guy I was before. That’s not me…I couldn’t sit there and pretend, so I asked for space… she gave me the ring back. The one I proposed to her with before I got shipped out, and that’s that.”

“Wow,” Sam muttered, trying to process everything.

“I know I’m an idiot,” Bucky sighed, the weight of his actions pressing down on him.

Sam took a deep breath, piecing it together. “This all makes sense now… and yeah, you messed up. But Bucky, she knows you’re not the same as you were then—because she isn’t either. She knew when Steve, her, and I were trying to find you, that there was a good chance you wouldn’t even recognize her, or even yourself. But she still fought for you, because guess what, Bucky? People do love you. She and Steve loved you unconditionally. You’ve gotta fix this before it’s—what the hell?”

Sam’s words were cut off as both men’s eyes were drawn to the side of the plane, where a glowing, sparking gold circle appeared out of thin air. Through the portal stepped Doctor Strange, looking battle-worn and weary.

“We have a problem,” Strange announced, his voice grim.

—

1940s

The sky above you was a soft shade of twilight, stars just beginning to flicker to life, but the weight of the world was closing in. The future felt too fragile, too uncertain, and the warmth of Bucky’s embrace, though comforting, couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual, as if he, too, was trying to anchor himself to the present. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you, right?” His voice was quiet, almost pleading.

You nodded, but the fear was still there, gnawing at you. “I just can’t stop thinking… What if everything changes? What if something happens that we can’t control?”

Bucky’s grip around you tightened, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your cheek. “Things might change, doll, but us? We don’t change. You’re my forever, remember?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both. “And what about the war?” you whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air. “What if it takes you away from me?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer right away. You felt him shift slightly, his fingers lacing with yours, holding on as if the force of his grip alone could stop the world from pulling him away. “I can’t pretend I’m not scared,” he admitted softly, “but I’m coming back to you. No matter what. I’ll find my way back.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “You promise?”

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. “With everything I’ve got, doll... You and me, we’re forever.”

The chill in the air seemed sharper now, and you shivered, not just from the cold, but from the creeping sense that forever was a promise neither of you could keep. The world was shifting, and though you held on to each other tightly, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change.

“I just wish I could freeze time,” you whispered, tears threatening to fall again“Stay here like this, with you.”

Bucky smiled softly, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Me too…” He paused, his hand brushing through your hair. “But we’ve got this moment, and no matter what happens, no one can take this from us…No one will ever take you from me, your my forever darling”

You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat soothe you, willing yourself to believe that he was right—that love alone could defy the odds, even with the looming shadow of war.

The stars above twinkled, indifferent to the fears swirling beneath them, and as the night deepened, you held on tighter to Bucky, praying with every part of you that this wouldn’t be the last night you’d ever feel his arms around you.

But that small voice in the back of your mind whispered again, reminding you that promises, no matter how heartfelt, couldn’t always stand against the tide of fate

—

The Switch

“Do I need to do anything?” Peter’s voice trembled with panic. The whole situation was too surreal to grasp—how could it be real? The fact that you were willing to leave your entire world behind for him was something he couldn’t wrap his mind around. But he knew better than to argue. You were a grown woman—a hundred-year-old with superpowers, no less—and he was more than ready to go wherever this ride took him.

“Just give me your hand, okay?”

Peter gave you the sweetest, most genuine smile “That, I can do.”

Your sweaty, trembling hand gripped tightly onto his. As you watched the eldest Peter completely disappear into the rift, you could hear Doctor Strange shouting at you, trying to hold you back. You felt something pulling, trying to keep you anchored to your reality, but the pull towards Peter was stronger, more intense, more powerful. As he began to be pulled back into his universe, you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You focused on matching your cells with his, synchronizing your energy to merge with his reality, making it easier for you to follow him.

You concentrated on the connection you shared with Peter 3, using it as an anchor to tie you to his universe. You poured every ounce of hope, every fiber of your being, into making this work.

The energy around you intensified, the power almost overwhelming as you held on to Peter 3’s presence. Slowly, you felt the shift, the sensation of being drawn through the cracks of reality. The world around you began to blur, the familiar sights and sounds fading into the background as you were pulled into a new reality—one where you and Peter 3 might finally have a chance.

When the particles around you finally settled, the breeze that brushed against your skin felt different. You opened your eyes and met Peter’s warm brown gaze, so different from the blue you were used to.

“Holy shit, you’re actually here.” Peter took a step back, his hands on his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think it would work—not that I doubted you or anything, I just—” He gestured wildly, mimicking the sound of an explosion.

You giggled, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. “I didn’t think I could either. I just… I don’t even know.” You paused, spinning around to take in your surroundings. The sky was darker here, the sun setting in this universe while it was just rising in yours. “It feels different here.”

Peter nodded, his smile softening as he watched you. “Yeah, it does. But… it’s good, right?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the cool evening air fill your lungs. “Yeah, it’s good. Really good.”

He stepped closer, his hand finding yours once more, his grip firm and reassuring. “So… what now?”

You looked up at him, the man you’d crossed realities to be with, and smiled. “Now… we figure this out together. One step at a time.”

Peter’s eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “Together?”

“Together,” you confirmed, squeezing his hand

And as the stars began to twinkle in the sky of this new universe, you couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

—

The Portal

“What do you mean a different universe?” Bucky was pacing, his confusion and frustration evident. He barely understood how to work his flip phone, but this? This was way out of his league.

“I mean exactly what it sounds like,” Strange replied, glancing between the two of them. “Y/N crossed over to another universe—the one where the other Spider-Man is from.”

“How the hell did she even do that?” Sam stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Bucky’s shoulder to stop his relentless pacing. “I thought her powers were limited to controlling the elements—y’know, wind, water, earth, the whole shebang.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky snapped, his voice tinged with anger. “You’re being real vague, Doc, and I’m not liking it!”

“It’s Doctor—” Strange corrected, but quickly moved on. “Her powers are complex. They evolve over time, They can become whatever she needs them to be. But being in another universe? That’s a whole different story. How do I put this lightly…”

“Don’t,” Sam interjected, his voice firm. “Just tell us straight.”

Strange nodded solemnly. “She could, no she will die. Slowly perish without even realizing it. What’s kept her alive all this time is tied to our universe. Without it, the death that should’ve claimed her 80 years ago might catch up to her.”

Sam shot a questioning look at Bucky before turning back to Strange. “How did you even know about her death? Steve said only Stark and he knew.”

“To become Sorcerer Supreme, certain timelines had to be reviewed—hers was one of them.”

“Why hers?” Sam pressed.

Strange’s expression was grave. “Because she has the potential to end our entire existence—or help save it. We can’t afford to lose her.”

He turned, creating another portal with a flick of his wrist. “You both need to come with me.”

“Can’t you wait until we land? We’re almost there,” Sam pointed out.

“No,” Strange’s voice was resolute. “This is vital. Now. And I’m not asking.”

Sam grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him through the portal. “You’ve been quiet—oddly quiet,” Sam observed as they entered the Sanctum.

“I just don’t understand how he could let her go,” Bucky muttered, bitterness seeping into his voice. “Did you even try to stop her?”

Strange turned to face them, his gaze steely. “I was busy saving the rest of the universe. Look, I get it—she’s your friend. But she’s more than that to this universe. It will collapse if we don’t get her back, so the less you waste time with this crap, the better.”

“How do we do that? How do we help?” Sam asked, stepping slightly in front of Bucky, ready to take action.

“We’re going to need more help,” Strange replied, eyeing them both seriously. “Give me about a minute.” He opened up another portal and was about to step through it when he turned back around. “And don’t touch anything.”

“This is crazy,” Sam sighed, sitting down on the stairs in the Sanctum. “Why would she just leave her universe for a guy she barely knows? It doesn’t sound like her.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky gritted his teeth, frustration boiling over. “I don’t know why I broke up with her. I don’t know why Steve left. I don’t know why she left! Everyone just leaves! Maybe you should go too, Sam—that’s all anyone does, isn’t it? Leave.”

“Buck, come on,” Sam started, his voice gentle, trying to reach him.

But Bucky scoffed, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What if they both fought so hard to save me, and then just left? She left willingly. Why should I go and save her, huh?”

Sam opened his mouth to respond when a voice, one they hadn’t heard in months, answered for him.

“Because you love her.”

Bucky froze, his eyes wide with shock. “Steve?”

And there he was—Steve Rogers, standing in the shadows, looking every bit as strong and resolute as Bucky remembered. The weight of the world seemed to lift off Bucky’s shoulders, if only for a moment, as he stared at the man who had been his friend for nearly a century.

[mama2bears]

No Christmas Vacation Part 2 (Final)

Warning: suggestive, talk of sex, injury, 18+ only

A/N: So sorry for such a long time between updates. I had major writer's block on this one. I wrote and rewrote a few different ideas trying to find one that I could write the best.

Catch up with Part 1

Part 2

You stood next to Tyler as the boat sped across the water, a light mist spraying up. He had one hand on the wheel and another wrapped around your waist as he looked over at you laughing, “Isn't this great, Darling.”

“It is.” you stand up on your tiptoes brushing your lips against his.

“This looks like a good spot.” he flashed you his world famous grin as the boat slowed. The sun was just starting to set over the lake. Clouds were rolling in, but the lake was still calm with only a cool breeze blowing.

Tyler hopped up to the bow of the boat and dropped the anchor down before slowly making his way back to you, his eyes never leaving you and a devilish grin that he just couldn't hold back.

“What is that look for?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You're so beautiful.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest, “And I love you, Y/N...with all my heart. You are my life. You're my everything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

“I know.” you whispered, leaning your head against his chest, before looking up at him, locking your eyes with his, “I couldn't imagine my life without you.” you whisper. “I have never felt so loved and protected. I just...I don't know....I feel like we were meant to be or were lovers in another lifetime or something.”

“Maybe we were, Darling.” he kissed your neck softly. “You are all I'll ever need...all I'll ever want. You are my shelter in the storm.” and with that Tyler dropped to one knee and was holding a box with a ring up to you. The golden band held a single diamond that seemed to sparkle in the light of the setting sun. “Y/N...all I want for Christmas...and all I want for the rest of my life is for you to be by my side. I love you with everything I have. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes and Tyler's heart beat faster. Were those tears of joy?

“Yes Tyler...Yes I will marry you.” You smiled and left out a scream of delight when he stood and lifted you in the air, twirling you around.

“I love you.” he whispered, slipping the ring on your figure and capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss.

“Shall we have a glass of wine to celebrate?” you offer, picking up the two wine glasses.

“Of course.” Tyler smiled softly at you, opening the cork on the wine and pouring some in each glass. He sat the wine bottle down and raised his glass to a toast, “To the first day of the rest of our lives together.” he leaned over and kissed you softly as you clicked the glasses together.

You leaned against Tyler's chest as he draped one arm around you, sipping wine and almost being lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, causing both of you to sit up and take notice of the approaching weather. Dark clouds were building back towards the cabin, despite the last rays of sunlight still sinking down over the horizon to the front of you.

“We better head back.” you reluctantly stood up.

Tyler reached for his phone with a concerned look on his face. He didn't like the looks of the clouds or the sudden drop he felt in the pressure.

“We gotta go...but not to the cabin.” he stood quickly, dropping the phone.

“What's wrong?” you ask.

“Looks like a super cell...from the hook I am seeing there could be a tornado on the ground or soon to be on the ground near the cabin. We can't go back there right now. Get the life jackets and put one on, just in case.” he instructed, as he hurried to pull up the anchor.

You scramble to grab the life jackets from one of the seat storage areas, but after searching all the seating areas, you only found one. “Aren't there suppose to be life jackets for everyone? I'm just seeing one life jacket and the four blankets we brought.” you begin to panic. “How many are there suppose to be on here?”

“I don't know. I should have checked before we went out. I assumed they had several.” Tyler looked at you, “Put that on.”

“What about you?”

“Y/N...just do it. I'll be okay. I am not leaving your side anyhow.” his voice was stern.

You slipped the jacket on and held on, knowing it was pointless to argue right now.

“Look for a little cove or cave or a house...anything that we can shelter in.” he called.

Scanning the lake, you wiped the tears away that started falling. Why did it seem that if you and Tyler weren't chasing a storm, then the storm was chasing you.

“It'll be okay.” Tyler's heart broke at the tears he saw streaming down your face. He pulled you close to him and kissed the top of your head, “We've got this, it's going to be okay.” he promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you whisper, hugging him. “Hey...there. It looks like a little cave or something.” you point to a little cove to the right that looked like it might open up to a cave.

Tyler turned the boat and ran it as close to shore as possible, jumping up to the bow he tossed down the anchor.

“Come on.” he took your hand and led you to the rear of the boat. “Stay here, let me get in and see how deep it is.” with that he jumped from the back, landing in about waist deep water.

“Take your shoes off, roll up your pants and come here. I am going to carry you to shore then I'll come back for the blankets.”

“I am perfectly fine to walk.” you protest.

“Listen to me, Darling. It's going to get cold tonight. It's suppose to snow. We will freeze to death out here if both of us have soaking wet clothes on. ONE of us has to get to wet, but we both don't. Now come here.”

“This is ridiculous.” you mutter, holding your shoes in one hand and pulling your pants up to the knees. You make your way to the the back of the boat and Tyler scoops you up in his arms, holding you as high above the water as possible, only your feet dipped into the cold water. Carefully he sets you down once you reach shore and takes your hand, leading you towards the cave.

“Think there's animals in there?” you asked concerned.

“Let's hope not.” Tyler enters first peering into the darkness. “HEY!” he yells and listens...not hearing any movement. “I can't see any father back.” he says, looking at the ground, “But I am not seeing tracks or any signs of an animal being here. Just wait right here for me. I am going to go get the blankets, then we'll go in.”

You nod, watching him hurry back into the freezing water. Suddenly he yelps out in pain and falls into the water, his head disappearing under the surface for a moment.

“TYLER!” you take off towards the water.

“I am okay...I am okay.” he calls, stumbling to his feet. “Stay by the cave. This storm is moving in quick!” he yells, masking the sharp pain that was running up his leg. He made his way as quickly as he could to the boat, hoisting himself up and grabbing the blankets and his cell phone.

You watched him carefully, concern etched on your face, seeing him favoring his right leg, seeing how he stumbled though the water, and was now limping back to you. Thunder cracked overhead and the rain began to pour down.

“You okay?” you ask, wrapping your arms around him.

“Yeah, fine.” he offered you a smile and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, “Let's move back into the cave a little more away from the wind and the rain.” He checked the phone for signal, not expecting to find any, but thankful the flashlight worked. Using the flashlight on his phone, Tyler shined a light around the small cave opening. It wasn't a very deep cave, but there also wasn't any animals. “This should give us enough shelter from the storm.” he said as the winds suddenly roared outside.

“Get down!” Tyler screamed, hearing the all too familiar freight train sound. He pushed you to the ground, and covered your body with is, using one hand to cover your head and the other to wrap around you. He was thankful you still had the life jacket on, hoping it would offer you more protection from any flying debris.

You felt small rocks and dirt rain down then a sudden rumble. Tyler tightened his grip on you and pressed his body closer to yours, trying to shield you from the falling rocks. Total blackness took over the cave as rocks fell in front of the opening, blocking it off.

Larger rocks started falling around you and you felt one of them land directly on your ankle and you let out a scream as pain shot though your leg. “You okay? What happened?” Tyler asked, his voice full of worry. You started to answer when something slammed into your head. You thought you heard Tyler yelp out in pain just before you passed out.

The large rock had smashed into Tyler's hand and he was sure it was broken, but right now he didn't care. “Y/N? Darling answer me!” he yelled, feeling you go limp under him. He was cursing himself for not doing a better job at shielding you. He should have had your head covered more. “Baby please I need you.” tears were streaming down his face. It was pitch dark in there, he couldn't tell what was wrong or how badly you were hurt.

As quickly as it started, it stopped. The roaring winds were gone, the rocks had stopped falling. All Tyler heard now was the distant rumble of thunder. Quickly he rolled off of you and checked for a pulse and breathing, sighing in relief finding a steady heartbeat and normal breathing. Running his hand across your face and down your body, he tried to determine where the injuries were. “Hang on baby.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “We're going to be okay. I promise.”

The cold damp air of the cave chilled him to the bone, and he knew with the falling temperatures and with snow in the forecast for tonight, it was only going to get worse. He quickly removed his wet clothes and then carefully worked to remove the life jacket and then got you undressed, using the life jacket as a pillow.

“Y/N, darling, wake up. Please.” he pleaded, gently brushing the hair out of your face. “I am going to find the blankets, then I'll be right back.”

It only took a moment to find the blankets a few feet away. Tyler didn't waste time looking for the cell phone. Right now, it was more important that he get you covered up and that you both stay as warm as possible. Tucking one blanket under you, he laid against you and wrapped the other three blankets around the both of you, then held you tightly against his chest, his chin resting on top of your head. “I love you baby. Please be okay. I need you.” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes.

Tyler drifted off to sleep, only be be awoken by the unmistakable howl of a wolf, right outside of the cave entrance.

“Ty?” you muttered.

“Y/N? I am right here, sweetheart.” he held you closer, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Where are you hurt?” he asked, his voice cracking, “I am sorry, I tried to shield you. I should have had your head covered more.”

“I am okay.” you assured him, “My head and ankle are hurting, but it's okay. I am okay.” you repeated, wrapping your arms around him. “Because of you...I am okay.” you kissed him softly...”But why are we naked?” you asked.

“Body heat. It's best for body to body heat to prevent hypothermia.” he explained.

Another howl filled the cave and you shivered in fear.

“I don't think they can get in.” Tyler said, “but let's move back against the cave wall. With our backs against the wall we could fend off any attack from the front.”

You nod, but the cave was so dark, you knew that neither of you could see the wolves if they got into the cave. There could be a pack right next to you now and you wouldn't know it. That thought, of something stalking you in the darkness filled you with fear. Tyler felt you trembling next to him and pulled you closer to him. “It's going to be okay.” he whispered.

You both stumbled across the cave floor. Tyler with his hurt leg and you with what you thought was a broken ankle made quite a pair, you were certain.

Once you reach the wall, Tyler lays a blanket across the ground. “You lay on the that, press your back against the wall..” he instructed.

“You okay?” you asked, “I noticed the limp in your step.”

“It's fine. My leg is just a little sore from where I fell in the lake.” Tyler brushed it off and positioned himself in front of you, pressing you between him and the cave wall then wrapped the blankets back around the both of you again. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his back as he faced outward, ready to defend you against any danger that might enter the cave.

“I love you.” he whispered, wrapping his arms around yours and moving his body as close to yours as possible.

“I love you too.” you kiss the back of his neck softly and snuggle into him.

Within a few moments, you fell asleep.

* * * *

“Hello? Hello? Anyone in there?” You and Tyler both were startled awake by voices calling.

“Yes. In here. We're trapped.” you call.

“Hang on, we're working to get to you. How many? Anyone injured?”

“Two. My fiancee has a bad cut on his leg. I think I might have a broken ankle.”

Tyler turned to you, “you're ankle in broken? Y/N, why didn't you tell me when I asked you?”

“I didn't want to worry you. It's no big deal, really.” you say.

“She was knocked unconscious last night by a rock slide. She might also have a head injury.” Tyler informed them.

You could hear workers on the outside moving rocks away, “We're almost to you. Get back, as far against the cave wall as possible, just in case these rocks start falling when we move them.”

Tyler presses his body against yours as the rocks are pushed away and crumble to the ground, making a small opening on the top.

Lights fill the cave as a man climbs in, “Ready to get out of here?” he asks with a smile.

“Sure are.” Tyler stands and helps you to your feet, making sure the blanket stays wrapped around you. He scoops you up in his arms, buckling a little as the pain shot up his leg. His hand sent waves of pain though his arm so he supported you with his arm instead.

“Ty, put me down. I can walk.” you protested.

“I got ya. I don't want you hurting your ankle worse.” he held you close to his chest and then handled you up to the rescue workers. Tyler tried to climb the uneven rocks, once you were out, but he couldn't get a good footing with his hurt leg and broken hand.

The bright sunlight hurt your eyes at first. Finally as your eyes adjusted, you took in the scene around you. The boat you were on was crushed and pushed ashore, trees were down everywhere, and about six inches of snow was on the ground. You shivered against the cold and rescue workers were there, wrapping a warm blanket around you, offering you hot chocolate and bringing a stretcher over for you to lay on.

“Tyler?” you stood and waited for him to come out of the same area as you did. “What's taking so long?” you ask, fear building.

“The rocks are unsteady. He's having trouble climbing up. His leg is weak and I think his hand is broken, so he's not able to get a good grip. We're putting down a rope for him to tie himself onto, but we gotta move slow as to not cause the rocks to collapse and bury him.” A rescue worker explained to you.

“TYLER!” you yell, trying to make your way back up the rock slide.

“Y/N, It's okay. I am going to be okay. It's just going to take a minute.” he called. “I love you. Go on with them. Go to the hospital. I'll be there soon.”

“I am not leaving without him.” you glared at the rescue worker who tried to help you back to the stretcher.

“At least have a seat so your bare feet aren't in the snow.” he tried to reason. “We'll let you stay here until we get him out.”

You nod, sitting down on the stretcher and covering your feet with the warm blanket.

“Can't you give Tyler a warm blanket too and some coco to help keep him warm?” you ask.

“We're going to have him out in just a moment.” the rescuer said and walked away.

Suddenly, there was a rumble and the rescuers were yelling. “Sir, can you hear me?” they were calling down into the hole that they pulled you out of.

You stand up and hobble over to the entrance to the cave, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around you and still holding the hot coco mug. “What happened?” you ask.

“Part of the wall inside collapsed.” one of them tell you.

“Tyler? You okay?” you call, your heart racing when you didn't receive a response. You scramble up the rocks ignoring the pain in your ankle.

“Miss, you can't be up here. The whole thing can collapse.” a rescuer tried to push you away but you shoved against him. “I am going back in there to help him.” you seethed, “Get out of my way!”

“Ty?” you call into the hole, still not getting a response. You slide down yelping out in pain as you land hard on your ankle.

You instantly spot him, face down in the dirt, partly covered by the rocks and dirt. “Tyler..” you rush to his side, brushing the dirt away from his face and cradling his head in your lap. He takes a deep breath and starts coughing. “Y/N?” he forces his eyes open and looks at you in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice weak and raspy.

“Are you two okay?” one of the rescuers yelled.

“I came back for you. They said there was a rock slide.” you felt the tears rolling down you cheeks. “If I didn't....you would...Ty, you were buried under the dirt..I..” you broke down in sobs, realizing just how close you came to losing him.

“It's okay. I am okay.” he slowly sits up and wraps his strong arms around you, holding you close. “I wish you didn't come back in. You were safe.” he muttered.

“If I didn't come back in you would have died, Tyler. You were going to suffocated in that dirt before they ever got to you.” you cried. “How could you say you wish I didn't come back in. Do you know what it would do to me if I lost you?”

“I am sorry, Darling. You saved my life and I am so thankful and grateful for that, but I don't ever want you putting yourself in danger for me. It would kill me if something happened to you, especially if you got hurt on my account.” he kissed you gently and you saw the tears in his own eyes. “I love you, Y/N. With all of my heart. Please though, please don't risk your life for me.”

“Hello? Is everyone okay?” The rescuer yelled again.

“Just figure out how to get us out of here!” you snap at the rescuer, then turned back to Tyler. “I wasn't leavening you alone in here and hurt.” tears rolled down you cheeks, “When they couldn't get an answer from you...no one was going to keep me out of here. You are always putting yourself in danger for me. I will always do the same for you.”

Tyler hugged you close to him, tears in his own eyes. “I love having you next to me, but I wish you had stayed where it was safe.”

“But then, you wouldn't be here now.” you whispered, resting your head against his chest, “and that in itself would have killed me.”

He held you tightly to his chest, thanking the God above that you two were together, and safe. “How much longer up there?” he called to the rescuers.

“We're going to be digging this whole slide out. Move as far back as possible and stay there. It's going to be a lot of noise and falling rocks.” the rescuer yelled.

Tyler stood and helped you to your feet and you both hobbled best you could to the far wall. He covered your body with his and pressed you against the wall as the wall blocking the entrance crumbled.

After several moments, the rescuers were running to you, having cleared the entrance enough to walk out of. “You guys okay?” he asked.

Tyler looked at you and smiled, taking your hand in his. “We're okay.” he smiled, keeping you close as you both walked out of the cave and to the waiting ambulances.

“I love you.” he whispered, kissing you softly,

“I love you too.” you whisper against his lips, “Once we get released from the hospital, wanna build a snow man?”

He grinned, “Of course I do. Then, I think we should head home and give everyone the good news.” he said, kissing the ring on your figure.

**** THE END****

[pompompurinwrites]

Yandere!Idia Shroud x Crossdressing!Fem!Reader (smut)

I wrote this on one of my Ao3 accounts a while ago but decided to move it to my Tumblr as well!!

TW: Yandere-ish, smut

Word count: 1.9k

"Yeah Grim I know what Crewel said but do I really gotta take it all, it makes me so sick." Grim glances over at you while you sip hesitantly on the vile. "Maybe for one day you can try drinking less, but what if you start to turn all girly?" Shaking your head you drink only half the vile, close it up and throw it on your bed. "We will just have to see what will happen." Grabbing your bag you sling it over your shoulder and give Grim a quick kiss on his forehead. He has been sick for a few days and again won't be able to go to school. Riddle told you it was some magical sickness that he must have gotten from eating things he wasn't supposed to. So this means It's another day you gotta survive by yourself without anyone finding out about your secret.

Making your way out of Ramshackle you feel a lot better and not as tired or sick like when you usually take all of the potion. You meet with friends and go to your classes.

(time skip)

While on your way to your last class you start to feel funny. A student who you talk with frequently looked at you very odd,"Hey Y/n, are you feeling alright?" You look at him surprised, "Yes, why?" the boy walks a little closer and pulls out his phone to show you yourself. "Your eyes look bigger and your cheeks seem more flushed." Looking at yourself in the phones mirror you seem more girly. "Oh maybe Grim's cold got to me too?" With that being said you rush off before the boy can even open his mouth. Panicking you start to search for somewhere to go since you can't walk to ramshackle and risk someone seeing you like this.

Lucky you make it to an empty classroom, before anyone can see you, or so you thought. You pull out your phone and look at your now changed features, finally the potion has worn off. You are standing there in a girly form and no longer can show your face to other students. suddenly you hear a voice behind you, "Y-Y/N??" Freezing in your tracks you don't turn around and instead wave Idia off. "Y/n you can't even speak to me?" You continue to look in the opposite direction of Idia and try to brush him off still. "Y/N, are you alright?" He is getting more nervous with your behavior.

You're his favorite person in the whole world, right next to Ortho, why are you being this way to him? You're everything we could ever want and more. You're pretty much the love of his life. He needs you to speak to him and he needs to know you're ok. "Please Y/n." You take in the way his voice is so desperate. Turning towards him, "Idia can you keep a secret?" Voice now shaky and more high pitched than it was before. "Y-yes, for you I can!" He takes a hesitant step and so do you. This continues on until you both are close enough to hear each other breathing.

Hesitantly you look at Idia's face, "I know this is is really weird and-" Idia grabs you by your arms. "You're a girl?" Idia was over joyed with this fact. Not only did he think you were a cute boy, but you're really an adorable girl." You watched as Idia's face was left so blank and empty. This made you worried. Your hands shoot up to hold onto Idia's hands that held onto your shoulders. "Please don't tell anyone anything!" small tears start to well up in your eyes. Idia takes this chance to move a hand up to brush your tears away. "Oh Y/n I won't tell anyone anything, I swear." This time when you looked at his face it had a grin. "Why are you looking at me like that Idia?"

He Moves his hands away from your form and instead he plays with his hands nervously. "Well Y/n I want something in return." Scrunching your brows together you think about what you can offer him. "Y/n you don't get to pick what to give me, I do." He takes his hands and raises them to your waist. "I mean after all I am the one who is going to keep your secret that you're really a girl." swallowing nervously you move to place your hands where he held you, "Idia don't I get a little bit of a say, I mean it's my secret." attempting to remove his hands came to no avail as he gripped you harder. "Please Y/n I have waiting for this moment since I laid my eyes on you." He starts to lean into you, forcing you to move back towards a desk.

Your legs hit the desk and you stumble a little back onto it. "Idia you really have?" He just confessed to you that even before he found out you were a girl he wanted you as a boy. How romantic? "Yes, yes Y/n, I have needed you for so long, man or woman." You gain the courage to grab him by the back of his neck and pull him close for a kiss. sticking your tongue in his mouth and exploring it and all its crevices. He sure was an awful kisser but the enthusiasm he was showing really helped him out. Starting to become out of breath you both pull away. Saliva still connecting you both by a thin thread. His look was all hazy and lust filled just as much as your own. It was really turning you on and by the looks of it, Idia as well.

Slipping your hand away from the back of his neck you move it down to his member. Stroking him off through his uniform pants. He lets out a whimper, "More, please, give me more." listening to his pleas you unzip his uniform pants and pull down his boxers to show his leaking rod. To be honest you thought he would be a bit smaller but he was more than large, like extra large. Using both of your hands you start to jerk him off. seconds go by and he is already whimpering into your ear and telling you to go faster. Of course you listen and go faster. "I can't take it, I'm sorry." He replies as he releases himself onto your hands. Lifting your hands to your mouth, you lick off all of his cum.

"Idia I want more of you." Idia nods his head and trades places with you. While he leans on the desk you take your place on the floor in front of him. Wasting no time in swirling your tongue around the tip of his member. He continues to leave you with little praises about how good you are and how beautiful you look. This made you want him even more. completely taking his cock into you mouth, well trying to at least. With his size it is very difficult to full get it in so you stick to stroking off what what couldn't make it in. sucking and slurping sounds fill the empty classroom. Idia started to breathe a bit heavier. You could tell he was almost up, so you stop.

"N-no, don't stop now, just a little bit more." He goes to grab your head to push you back but you move away and get up off your knees. Grabbing at your belt and then slipping your pants off, leaving you in your underwear. Idia watches intently as you do so. Moving your hands up you peal off your NRC jacket but leave your shirt on same as Idia. He gently grabs you by your arms and pulls you in for another kiss, this one was a lot sweeter than the one you insinuated. such soft and loving moment shared between you two. "Sit on the desk." His voice is a bit more demanding. A big jump from the weak whimpers he was serenading you with before.

You oblige and position yourself sitting on the desk. Quickly he pulls you by your legs so you are laying down instead of just sitting. Never in your life have you thought you would see Idia with a more dominate side. And to top it off the way he looks at you with such a lust hunger stare really makes you wonder what his real personality even is. "What are you thinking about?" His question snaps you out of your thoughts, "Just you." Those two words are enough to make idia melt, "You really are perfect for me." He takes one of his hands are caresses your face, then takes his other and slips it under your undergarments. teasing your soaking wet entrance with his delicate touch.

He never had any experience with this kind of thing but Leona and Vil have told him and thing or two in case he would ever get into a situation like this. He also spends a good chunk of his time playing porn related video games so what he knows is whatever the hell is in those games.

Continuously he moves his fingers up and down making you the one whimpering now. Circling around your bud, around and around. He only does this for a few minutes before pushing a finger into you. Moving it in and out at a slow pace. He watches as you go to grip his hand, "Put another." He listens to you just as you listened to him and sticks another finger inside. Moving them along your squishy insides. Your moans and whimpers are what keep him going. They are going to be another reason why he needs to have you and always be with you. Forever and always. Picking up the pace he watches as small beads of sweat litter your forehead and roll down your face. "Idia I can't, I feel like I-" Before you can finish you cum all over his hand.

"I love you so much Y/n." He speaks before putting his fingers into his mouth and licking each and every digit that has your essence on it clean. His words caught you off guard for a second, "I love you too Idia." Now you were both ready for the main course.

Idia gently goes to hold your waist while you grab at his arms. Lining his tip with your entrance he pushes himself in. Your walls collapse onto him and he wonders if he can keep going especially if you feel this good. Slowly he starts to move his hips against yours and moans slip out of his mouth. "Idia faster-" Cutting you off he quickens his speed. Completely slamming into you and making you see stars. Your moans and whimpers are filling the classroom once again and so are Idia's. To think he is really having sex with the love of his life, this must be a dream.

But it's not, she is very much real. Everything about you and Idia were real.

He moves his hands from your waist to hold your face, "Y-y/n, I don't think I can hold on much longer." You grab onto his hands that are placed on your face, "M-me neither." You both are starting to become out of breath and coming to your end. Idia takes his hands off your face and hold onto your waist again, pulling himself in and out quickly. Before he can even make it fully out of you he cums inside your womanhood. Not long after you finish as well. Both of you are now fully finished and trying to get as much air as you can.

"Idia, you won't tell now will you?"

"No Y/n, never."