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gffa · 4 months

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It has been about eight months since I came back to BATFAMILY fic and this will be my ninth set of recs, which means I'm at about 500 or so for this one fandom, which is kind of blowing my mind a little, but also tracks pretty well, given how amazing the fic in the fandom can be. There's just so much that's scratching the itch of softer Batfam content or really digging into the angsty possibilities or exploring the characters in ways the source material won't/can't or just finding a dozen different ways to hit my id straight on and make it such a fun, exciting experience to be swimming through all this amazing fic. And, in that vein, yeah I may have a Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Problem, but I also have Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Solutions which is basically a metric truckload of fic by incredible authors and trying to lure more people into crying about these characters with me because I AM CRYING A LOT ABOUT THEM because fandom has PROVIDED ME WITH THE TOOLS TO DRAG YOU IN AND I AM GOING TO USE THEM. And, okay, I've got some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Babs, Steph, and Bruce stuff in there, too. Fandom is great at helping me get some really great variety in, too! Basically ALL THE BATS ARE MY LOVES AND I WANT TO DRAG OTHERS IN WITH ME.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Robin is Looking for a Sidekick by Writer_loves_tropes, dick & bruce, 4k Eight year old Dick Grayson is already a crime fighting Robin and he needs a sidekick. Batman seems like he would be a good choice. Robin and Batman has a nice ring to it. Bruce has thoughts about that. aka, How could Bruce resist adopting this tiny child? ✦ The Pancake Predicament by Lightsider, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k On his second Father's Day at Wayne Manor, Dick decides to make pancakes. -or- The reason Dick's not allowed unsupervised kitchen use, which isn't fair. The pancakes were delicious, and he was 10! ✦ Counting Elephants by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & alfred, 3k When kidnappers break into the manor, Dick runs straight to Alfred. Alfred will do anything to protect his family. Or, Dick gets scared, and Alfred is a badass. ✦ World's Finest: Christmas Morning by WingFeathers, dick & bruce/clark & ma kent & alfred & cast, 9k Twelve hours of a Christmas morning in Gotham: Bruce foregoes sleep and grapples with change, Clark navigates Christmas at Wayne Manor and his boyfriend's emotional distance, and Dick gets the best presents. Also: Ma and Pa Kent and Alfred are the greatest. ✦ There is a Monster at the End of This Book by Trekkele, dick & bruce & cast, vampires, 2.6k There was something deeply wrong with Bruce Wayne. This wasn’t exactly news, of course. Opening any one of the local Gotham tabloids would give you plenty of evidence to back his claims up, but Tyler liked to think his profession gave him an edge, an added insight into the strangeness that was Gotham’s ‘beloved billionaire’. ✦ Safe by Jinmukang, dick & bruce, 2.5k Or, a baby Robin wakes up very lost and very alone in the middle of Gotham. ✦ Stars, Hide Your Fires by FidotheFinch, dick & bruce, 10.8k Dick Grayson doesn't want to leave the circus he's called home his entire life. When he overhears Pop Haly talking to a strange man about sending Dick away for 'training,' he decides he'll do whatever he can to stop it. Even if he has to make a deal with a demon. ✦ It's who I am by Tiredteengaer, dick & bruce & wally & artemis & conner & kaldur & m'gann & cast, 44k how each member of the team found out Robin's real identity. ✦ Drowning, Headaches, and being beaten by Penguin by PandasandDucks1, dick & bruce & wally & artemis, 1.7k He couldn’t breathe. ✦ The Eldest Wayne's by Remarcely, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 3k ‘With all their talks about how to behave, Bruce had the upmost faith in Dick to talk to the other Gala-attenders with respect under his supervision. When Dick grew bored and wandered off, entirely unnoticed by a Bruce deep in conversation, he’d be lying if he pretended that faith didn’t waver’ Or Bruce and Dick throughout the years as they slowly learn how to be a family.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Rebalancing by SirenAlpha, dick & bruce & damian, 2.5k Bruce was back from his trip through time. Dick expected to heal up from surgery, head back to Blüdhaven, and be Nightwing again. He did not expect Bruce to have a discussion on the nature of Batman, Nightwing, and if Robin really only needed one of them. ✦ Capitulate by Antiquity, dick & bruce, 5k After Wally's death, Bruce tries to hold Dick together before he shakes himself apart. ✦ No Good Deed by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, dick & bruce, 1.2k While trying to stop a robber, Dick breaks two ribs. It's not a good time. ✦ Superficial Wounds by fleetfoot1, dick & bruce, ~1k Bruce swore softly as he tilted Dick’s face to the side, his gaze flicking down the bruises covering his cheekbone. Dick swallowed, before opening his mouth. “I--” his voice cracked on the syllable. God, he was just so tired of arguing. ✦ fabric (frayed but holding) by Tevya, dick & bruce & cast, 5.1k A few months after Dick returns to speaking terms with Bruce, he gets stuck in Gotham with the flu. ✦ aristocracy by brandywine421, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 2.4k "I really wish it was for a different reason. I - need a favor." "There are no favors between us, Dick, you know that," Bruce said, moving around the desk to take the seat beside him. "Tell me." "God, it's so stupid, I - could handle it myself, but - I don't want to. I just want - I just want to forget it ever happened," Dick said. That didn't sound like Dick. "Tell me," he repeated. ✦ Memories Fade by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & cast, 2.2k “Miss Gordon sent in her daily report and Master Tim called to inform you that he will be in San Francisco for a few days. Also, Master Dick is upstairs.” Bruce froze. “Dick is here?” “Yes, sir.” “I thought he was in Central City visiting Wally West.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, pale eyes piercing. “It seems that he is back, then. I believe he is waiting for you.” ✦ On-Call by motleyfam, dick & bruce & jason & oc & cast, 1.6k Kiran Devabhaktuni, medical doctor and close family friend of the Waynes, agreed to join them for one more Thanksgiving at the Kent Farm. It's a good thing he did, too. ✦ a day before midnight by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 2.1k After you lose pieces of yourself, they don't always fit back the same. - Post-Ric Grayson.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ the more i look inside (the more you're real to me) by starsonthewalls, dick & bruce & john/mary & tim, 2.8k Dick tensed defensively. “It’s not like I can do anything about that, Dad,” he grumbled, accepting the glass to clear his throat. “You know how B is about patrols.” “And who is ‘B’ supposed to be?” his mom asked. “One of your video game friends?” Dick froze- what did mom mean, who is B? ✦ You Won't Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k Dick's captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Jason's Gift by Neoinean, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cast, 17.3k As Dick’s birthday goes from mediocre to bad to worse, he finds himself so wrapped up in the chain of events that he fails to correctly piece together the clues. Will he discover the truth before its too late? ✦ they don't know me and you by konan_konan, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & zatanna & cast, de-aged!dick, 4.5k "The cold helps neutralize him," says Bruce, talking about Dick like he's a threat. "It'll keep him from hurting himself," says Barbara, talking about Dick like he's a child. They're both correct right now, and Jason hates it. ✦ If You Don't Know by TylerM, dick & bruce & jason, 10.2k An exploration of Sick!Dick Grayson from little and big Jason's point of view. Because I honestly don't believe in there ever being too many of the same damn fic.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT THE OTHER BATS BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY: ✦ bury me softly by Nokomis, jason & steph, 4k After a tunnel collapse, Stephanie and Jason bond while trapped together.

BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ ties bind none by eryndew, dick & damian & bruce, 2k Bruce discovers a son. Repercussions and choices follow. ✦ restless heart by emavee, dick & damian, 2.3k It’s ridiculous to act like this one weekend really means anything in the grand scheme of things, but he can’t help it. It isn’t fair. He only gets these few days, and now Grayson is up in space fighting aliens or whatever and Damian is alone on the couch watching Jeopardy by himself. Or: Dick goes off world and Damian misses him ✦ Need To Know Basis by WordsAblaze, dick & damian, 1.1k day sixteen, where damian has zero tolerance for dick hiding injuries from him… ✦ a killer time by konan_konan, dick & damian & alfred & bruce, 4.1k The vent cover clatters to the floor, and Dick flings the knife at Croc, trusting that he's going to be a more of a threat than his goons. Croc roars in pain, or maybe just rage, and Dick scrambles toward the vent, Damian already inside, and - And Killer Croc grabs him by the ankle, slams him into the wood. He feels something break, and he gasps, hardly able to catch his breath. Some sort of metallic clang echoes from behind, and he thinks if Damian comes out of the vent and gets us both killed… ✦ as love carries its strength, but not its labels by AlterHarpia, dick & damian, 2.7k Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern. “I'm not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ a study by bernard dowd by cv_angels, tim/bernard & conner & cassie & bart, 4.8k Bernard opens the laptop, spinning it to face Tim with a flourish. It’s a powerpoint with a truly hideous red background, and Tim feels a moment of relief that Bernard isn’t breaking up with him before he registers the words on the slide. REASONS WHY TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE IS A SUPERHERO, A STUDY BY BERNARD DOWD. ✦ princess carry by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & duke & tam & damian, 3.1k Tim almost gets shot during a public speech, which is a pretty average Tuesday. Being rescued by his civilian boyfriend, however, is not. ✦ beep beep!! by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & duke, 6.1k Bernard learned to drive from his henchman uncle. The last place he expects to use this skill is at a dinner with his boyfriend's family. ✦ little menace by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, de-aged!tim, 16.2k wip "Did a two year old just outrun you?" Jason asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Bruce clenched his jaw. "I didn't want to hurt him." He growled. "Liar!" Tim piped up from under the desk. Jason was starting to like this version of his successor. ✦ It Wasn't Supposed to Be Like This: I wouldn't Change a Thing by Grayson1996, bruce & dick & steph, 4.1k She smiled tightly at him and stiffly beckoned him forward. If Bruce had to guess they weren’t close in the future, or perhaps she just didn’t know him. Regardless he stepped forward, though he didn’t turn to look at the figure on the bed just yet. For a moment the two simply stared at one another before Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. “Here’s where you apologize for pushing me against the wall.” Bruce felt guilt stir at the words despite the fact that she was clearly joking. ✦ in the lungs by hellsreluctantheir, tim & steph & cast, 2.8k It went bad the way things always went bad. All at once. Steph had taken out two thugs (and maybe picked up a sprained wrist though she wasn’t counting her chickens before they hatched) and Tim was almost finished up with his third, when she saw him get launched backwards, head hitting the railing at the side with a resounding clang. She saw him slump to the deck, saw him struggle weakly as the thug pulled him up by his cape and looked at him for a moment, before tossing him directly into the Gotham River.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Troublemakers by Kannika, clark & lois & conner, ~1k Introducing Conner and Lois is the worst mistake Clark has made in a long time. Because they're getting along. ✦ oh brother by corvidspectre, conner & lois & jon, 1.2k “So what are you being for Halloween?” Kon had asked when he got to the Kent's place. “Superboy!” Jon smiled, making Lois chuckle under her breath. ✦ Gut Feeling by Ao3time, lois & conner, 18.7k wip Lois Lane rescues a teenager who looks a lot like someone she knows...

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ my threads are coming loose by dizarys, dick & talia & cast, ~1k “Oh good, I see both you and Bruce are on the same page about unrealistic expectations for grieving,” muttered Dick. Talia sucked her teeth and turned back to the grave, long hair swinging. The sound was so much like Damian’s iconic tut that fresh tears welled in Dick’s eyes. ✦ Fatherhood; a Knife that Never Stops Cutting by minnow_doodle_doo, bruce & dick & alfred, no powers au, 2.1k There always seemed to be a thread that tied all their histories, from Alfred to Bruce back to Dick. Repeated over and over. And now it seemed that Dick found that the thread had been longer than he first thought. ✦ Tap Out by withthekeyisking, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, read the tags, 4.8k Dick knows the importance of tapping out in training, so your partner doesn't accidentally hurt you. It becomes instinct, so heavily ingrained in him. He doesn't understand why his brothers don't do it, too. (Until they do, and it's too late.) ✦ A Death in the Family by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & jason, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 12.4k The Joker has killed Jason Todd. Bruce tells Dick immediately, and Dick returns to the manor. Bruce will do anything to keep his remaining son safe and close. Dick thinks it's the grief that's keeping him exhausted. ✦ Car Crashes and Hot Chocolate by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 2.3k Dick almost dies trying to escape Bruce. Neither of them are happy about the outcome, and so they talk about it. This is a follow-up oneshot for A Death in the Family and is set before Into the Gilded Cage. This can technically be read alone, though it does have spoilers for A Death in the Family. ✦ Into the Gilded Cage by PrincessMariana , bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 17.5k Tim investigates if Dick Grayson is being held against his will by Bruce Wayne. He somehow ends up spending the summer with the two at Wayne Manor. It might be a prison for Dick, but the more Tim stays, the less he wants to leave. This follows A Death in the Family, but you don't need to read that to read this. It might be useful, though. ✦ The Third Robin's Flight by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 13.7k wip Tim accepts his place as Bruce' third - and most loyal - son. When his mother dies and his father returns to Gotham, Tim once again must pick a side, but Bruce never lets go of his children easily. Meanwhile, Dick struggles with the ramifications of finding the Joker, and Bruce remembers why Batman needs a Robin. This follows Into the Gilded Cage. ✦ Family Crisis by librarylexicon, bruce & dick & tim & cass & steph & leslie & barbara & selina & amy & cast, read the tags, 78.1k wip At the close of the gang war, Batman uncovers an attempted deception concerning the life of his former protégé Stephanie Brown, and suddenly nothing is as important as his family. While Dick seeks absolution, Tim struggles with grief, Cassandra searches for belonging and Steph rebuilds her sense of self, Bruce faces the return of ghosts from his own past and psyche. (War Games AU) ✦ New Again by dustorange, dick & bruce & thomas wayne jr., 10.1k wip “I’m not a good man,” says Thomas. “No," Dick hesitates, then comes closer, "but you're not an old man either." (a.k.a. Earth 3's Thomas Wayne Jr. "helps" Batman and Robin get back to their world, only for Bruce alone to be sent back, leaving Dick stranded in Earth 3—with Thomas.) ✦ not anything, anymore by emavee, dick & bruce, 2k Bruce kicked him out four months ago. Apparently these particular kidnappers didn't get the memo.

✦ dreamer by day by justbeyondstars, dick & bruce & jason & tim, 5.3k In the next room over, Jason and Tim are laughing, and it startles Dick back into his body to remember he’s not alone. He feels impossibly empty, unmovable, untouchable. He almost forgets he's still on the phone until a voice says, “Is there anything I can do for you, Dick? Anything you need to make this easier?” Or: Dick is a lot of things to a lot of people. After getting some bad news, he has to grapple with the fact it might not always be enough. ✦ watching the world go dark by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 3.5k It wasn’t that Dick was suicidal exactly, but if an opportunity came about where he would have to actively save himself from death, he might just let go. He might not be suicidal, but he's not self-preserving either, and it’s becoming a real problem. Luckily, Bruce is a worried parent with a few detective skills. ✦ hold me like water (or hold me like a knife) by dizarys, bruce & dick & tim, 2k Dick's recovery after a amnesiac year as Ric Grayson is taking longer than expected. And has some difficult side effects.

BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SOFT FOR AWHILE: ✦ And There Was Only One Bed: Family Edition by RandomReader13, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.7k “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dick stood on his toes to peek over Jason’s shoulder into the hotel room and grimaced. “Uh, Bruce…” “There was a mix-up with the reservation,” Bruce grunted. ✦ so everyone's just a fucking scalie huh by destiny919, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.1k "Birds are animals, Jay." "What the fuck? No. Aren't they basically reptiles?" Jason demands. "First of all, no, you're thinking of dinosaurs, which is what they actually are in the Flintstones. Second of all, reptiles are animals." "Bullshit." "Okay, I..." Tim pinches his nose. "Okay. I think I see the problem here." "Yes, Todd sustained a traumatic brain injury the other night and didn't see fit to inform anyone before we left on this inane trip." ✦ The Batmobile (and other Bat things) by JeanjacketCarf, bruce & dick & clark & justice league, 2k “Batmobile?!” Barry looked incredulous. It was clear he was missing the point of the story. “He called it the Batmobile? Out loud? In front of you?” Clark shrugged. “Yeah, twice. I’m sure I heard it right.” “Batmobile, my god,” Barry said shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.” Or Apparently, the Bat-Man is not a cryptid, he's a guy who gives his stuff silly names ✦ Vampire Bats by Sohotthateveryonedied, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 4.1k Despite the many, many obstacles, having his kids turn into vampires isn’t as tragic as Bruce anticipated it would be. Whenever one of them is grounded, all Bruce has to do is hang a cross on their door and they’re sufficiently contained. And the energy boost has been incredibly helpful on patrols. ✦ Adventures in Batsitting by raven_of_hydecastle, bruce & dick & clark & lois & justice league, 10k wip "What, you're telling me the great Batman couldn't stop a nine-year-old from sneaking out?" Green Lantern scoffed. "At least come up with a believable excuse." It was Batman's turn to scoff. "Like anyone else could do better. If you can keep Robin off the streets for a week, I'll buy you a Porsche." *** AKA The JLA stages an intervention with Batman to get Robin off the streets. it goes downhill from there.

BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ though the sun and sky may fade (all shall be remade) by queenofthestarrrs, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.8k Dick Grayson asks a lot of questions. ✦ My Little Robin by tyrianzzz, jim & dick & bruce, 1.6k After being Partners with the Bat for so long Gordon tries not to question his life choices. Until Robin comes along. ✦ I Wish My Father Had More Sons by shipNslash, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, 9.4k Jason Todd and Dick Grayson, from strangers to brothers to enemies and back again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #conner kent #battison #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 4 months

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ceilings - san

summary: pe teacher!san x single mom!reader. your kid is finally ready to go to school, and you're spiraling. thankfully, you find friendship with your kid's teacher and she becomes determined to become your best friend. simultaneously, she tries to set you up with the cute pe teacher, but you know him from somewhere deep within your past. can the truth come out without jeopardizing your future?

word count: 12.4k

warnings: afab reader so gendered terms, mentions of accidental pregnancy

masterlist / part two

"violet, come on, we're gonna be late!" you shout to your daughter. it's her first day of kindergarten, her first day of real school, and you're so close to tears. you want to cry because your baby is growing up, because you won't get to cart your little mini me around with you everywhere now, because you're so stressed about getting her to school on time. it's been a rough morning, and your daughter taking her sweet time is not helping.

"i'm almost ready!" she shouts back from the bathroom, and you suppress a groan. what does a five year old have to primp for?

"one more minute and i'm dragging you to the car!" you threaten lightheartedly, knowing she'll only take it to mean she has a minute before you go and help her.

"i'm done," she says proudly as she appears in the doorway to the kitchen. hands on her hips she asks, "how do i look?"

"ridiculous," you laugh. "is that my shirt?"

"and my belt!" she defends herself. "i thought it was cute."

"it is cute, baby, but maybe you should wear something more comfortable for the first day?" you offer. you shuffle over to the laundry basket you left on the stairs and dig around for an outfit, handing your stubborn daughter some jeans and a sweater. "just wear something comfy today, and later this week you can dress silly."

"i wasn't dressed silly, i was dressed like you," violet mumbles, and you roll your eyes. your daughter definitely got your sass, and your stubbornness, but the resemblance kind of stops there. she's a spitting image of her father, a constant reminder of the mistake you made when you were younger. but it wasn't really a mistake, was it? if it brought you the one thing that's made you happier than anything before, it wasn't a mistake at all. violet was the best thing that ever happened to you, and again, the waterworks threaten to fall as you think about dropping her off for her first day of school. a day, you realize, you're late for.

"c'mon sugar, we gotta go!" you shout, grabbing her hello kitty backpack. "i've got your stuff, meet me in the car!"

you work close enough to violet's school that you can be one of those annoying carpool parents swarming the school grounds every day. while violet may hate it, you're so excited for all the memories that will come from these trips to and from school each day. like today, you'll always remember how violet started crying a few minutes down the road, claiming she didn't want to go to school because she didn't want to eat school lunch.

"it's not that bad, vi." you tell her as you peek at her through the rearview. "i remember loving some days of school lunch so much i would always go, even if i was sick."

"but you only liked some days," she sniffed. "what if i don't like any of the days?"

"then i'll pack you a lunch," you assure her. "just try it this week, every day, because some days will be better than others. then if you don't like any of it i'll start making your lunch. how does that sound?"

"okay," she nods, her sad little sniffles clearing up. "thank you mommy."

"we're almost there," you say quietly, more to yourself than to your daughter. "are you excited, sugar?"

"kinda," she admits. "i'm excited to see miss jen!"

"she's gonna be a great teacher," you agree. "you're gonna learn so much, and you're gonna have so much fun with her and all the friends you're gonna make. right?"

violet nods again, and you're satisfied for now. you're sure your baby is alright to go off to school for the first time, at least for the time being. surely there will be another thing to freak about later in the day, but for now you need to worry about navigating this carpool line. a man in workout clothes with a haggard looking traffic vest is directing traffic, and while you pass him, you feel your heart skip a beat.

it can't be him, right? there's no way he works here. it can't be. you keep driving, following the cones until you pull up to the sidewalk and a very kind looking teacher approaches your car with a soft smile.

"good morning!" he chirps. "i'm mr. kang, the librarian," he says as he stoops to peer through your window. his gaze goes to the backseat, asking violet, "are you ready for the best day ever?"

she nods shyly, and you watch as she undoes her car seat and slides out of the car with her too big book bag engulfing her frame as she walks away. you shout her name and she turns, a nervous look on her face.

"have a great day, my love!" you blow her a kiss for good measure, and you carry the way she smiles proudly with you for the rest of the day. the man in the traffic vest is all but forgotten, but he watches from afar in confusion. was he seeing things, or were you really here dropping off a kid? a kid, in fact, who looked exactly like he did at that age. weird, he thinks, but he shakes it off and continues directing traffic, wondering how he could find a way to introduce himself over the next few days.

when you were younger, your parents always supported you academically, but they were never involved with the school itself. pta meetings were not their thing, and it was a struggle getting them to take off work for a parent/teacher conference. you had decided early on that you would be one of those involved parents, one that knew your kid's teacher well and participated in room mom activities. you were texting violet's teacher last night, actually, asking if there was anything you could bring to help celebrate the first week, and she was eager to have the help.

she'd asked you to bring lollipops, so on thursday afternoon you're searching for a parking spot before school lets out. you were going to drop the goodies off at violet's classroom and help jen with the goody bags during dismissal, quick and easy. except, an intimidating figure walking toward your car may not make this process as easy as you'd have hoped.

san saw your car pull up and immediately stepped out into the parking lot. as the unofficial carpool guardian, one of his daily jobs is stopping parents who try to cheat the system by taking up faculty spots so they can be first in line. san didn't know it was you or he would've approached with a different demeanor, but today was rough. he had at least two criers per class and one kid who ran so hard after lunch he puked outside san's office. he wasn't in the mood to deal with a privileged parent, so he lets out a deep sigh as he approaches your now open window.

"ma'am you can't park here-" he starts, but as soon as his eyes meet yours he chokes on his words. "y/n?"

"hi san," you smile shyly, heartbeat racing. "so i can't park here? there weren't any guest spots out front, and i need to take something to vi's class-"

"vi?" san questions, and you let out a deep sigh of your own.

"violet," you tell him. "my..my daughter."

"i thought that was you the other day," san admits, and you nod in confirmation. "well, um, if you're just coming to drop something off, you're all good, you can leave your car-"

"oh really? i can move, it's no problem-"

"no, no, don't worry about it-"

"are you sure?" you ask, finally stopping the awkward back and forth. "you won't tattle?"

"pinky promise," san laughs, holding your door for your as you get out. "but i'd sneak out before carpool starts up if i were you, it'll be hard to pull out once the lot fills up."

"got it," you nod graciously, slipping your hand into the backseat to grab the bag of candy. san is still standing there, so you clear your throat and try to leave. "well, thanks for letting me-"

"no worries-"

"it was good seeing you-"

"yeah, yeah..." san trails off. once you're a few feet away he calls your name. you turn to see what he needs, and he thinks about it before shrugging. "never mind," he says. "it was nice to see you."

"bye san," you manage to get out before you turn the corner, hands sweaty and heart doing funny flips in your chest.

you hadn't told violet about your visit, so when jen lets you into the room you hear an excited squeal followed by a pair of small arms wrapped around your legs. violet looks up at you proudly, a spot of something on her cheek. you forget sometimes, just how much she looks like san, but your exchange outside has him fresh on the brain. she has his smile. you shake the thoughts from your head and try to take a step, but violet won't budge.

"hey sugar," you laugh, ruffling her hair with your free hand. "go back to your seat, school's not over yet."

"but-"

"violet, do you want to show your mom where to put the bags she brought?" jen offers, and you send her a thankful look. violet tugs on your hand, bringing you over to the "treasure box" which is really just a filing cabinet jen must have filled with candy and toys. violet shows you each drawer, and you make her look away as you place the candy in it's appropriate drawer so it won't ruin the surprise for now. satisfied with her work, violet goes back to her seat as the bell rings for dismissal. you organize some of the other things you brought on jen's desk as she goes over reminders for the class, and then the first few rounds of students start leaving.

"thanks for bringing all this," jen says as she joins you.

"do you need help putting them together?" you ask, and she thinks for a moment.

"no, i don't want to keep you," she starts.

"well, i think i'm stuck for a while anyway," you inform her. "i had to park in a faculty spot, and carpool-"

"oh yeah, you're definitely stuck," jen laughs. "let me get everything set up, and then you can start while i help the rest of the kids leave, if you don't mind?"

"not at all!" you assure her, looking out to find violet watching you both like a hawk. "do you think we'll need another set of hands though?" jen follows your gaze and laughs before waving violet over. the three of you get everything set up, and you ask violet about her day as jen organizes the next group of kids for bus call.

"it was good!" violet says happily. "i liked lunch today."

"what did they have?"

"chicken sammiches," she says, and you laugh.

"sandwiches, baby," you tell her. "sammiches is a me and you word, but some people may not know what that means."

"i like chicken sandwiches and chicken sammiches," she nods. "and then we had pe and a boy in my class threw up. he had pizza."

"gross," you crinkle your nose. "you liked pe though?"

"yeah, it was fun!" violet goes off on a tangent about all the games, and jen rejoins you to help finish the bags. the three of you fall into comfortable conversation with violet as the life of the party. you like jen, you find yourself thinking. you hope it's not weird to be friends with your kid's teacher, because you could really use one here. you're lost in that thought, so you don't notice when someone appears in the doorway.

"mr. choi!" violet chirps, abandoning her task and rushing to meet him. never met a stranger, your child, because she's tugging his hand and bringing him over to you. "this is mommy."

"that's not her name though, is it violet?" jen asks, ever the teacher.

"y/n," san nods, and you don't miss the way jen looks from you to san to violet and back again. "did you get tricked into staying late?"

"no, i offered," you reply. "but i didn't have a choice, i didn't listen to your advice and couldn't leave before carpool started."

"you're all good now," he says, holding up his reflective vest all crumpled in his big hand. "just sent the last kid home."

"good to know," you nod. "vi, where's your stuff? we'll leave soon."

"no!" she whines. "i don't wanna leave!"

"don't you want a snack though?" you tempt her, and that sends the mini menace into motion.

"to what do i owe the pleasure of you stinking up my classroom, choi?" jen asks.

"i wanted to talk to you about the kid that threw up today," he says, and you must look at him confused because he asks you if anything's wrong.

"are you the pe teacher here?"

"yep," he answers. "i didn't know this was your violet," he says, nodding his head toward your kid. "she's a sweetheart. ball of energy too."

"you're telling me," you smile softly. violet walks over then, informing you that she's ready to go. you ask jen if there's anything else you can do, but she insists on you taking violet home.

"you've helped enough, believe me," jen tells you. "i'll see you tomorrow violet!"

"bye miss jen!" violet says with a smile. "bye mr. choi! i hope no one pukes on you tomorrow!"

jen waits for you and your kid to be far enough down the hall before she asks calmly. "so. how do you know y/n?"

"we, uh, we go way back," san says. "went to school together, college, all that."

"oh, so you like, really know her," jen says, a plan brewing in her head. she saw the way san looked at you. she also knows you're single. "you didn't know her kid went here?"

"didn't know she had a kid at all," san shakes his head, and he seems to get lost in a thought before he remembers what he came here for. "anyway, this kid today, you gotta tell him not to eat so much before pe..."

you and san didn't grow up together, exactly, but you have known him since high school. you floated around similar groups of friends, so you hung out regularly without ever getting too close. it wasn't until college that you actually became friends. you both went to a local school, at least as local as you can get for your small town. living in a city all by yourself was intimidating, but you weren't worried about not making friends. you knew they would come.

the day of your orientation, san saw you sitting by yourself in the auditorium and immediately recognized you. he brushed off his sweaty hands before walking over and softly calling your name. when you registered who he was, you smiled and invited him to sit next to you. both happy to see a familiar face, you spent the rest of orientation attached at the hip. in fact, you spent the rest of your time at school like that. san was your best friend, nothing more. he didn't always feel that way, but he did a good job of hiding his feelings. he was able to hide how he felt about you all the way up to the final semester of your senior year.

you were thriving, one of those seniors itching to finish school and get out into the real world. you knew you were just months away from a successful career, and you wouldn't let anything get in your way. you liked that you didn't know what was coming next or where you would end up after graduation. the prospect of moving to a new city, hell, maybe a new country, was exciting. this restlessness is what made san speak up. he was ready to graduate too, sure, but he was ready to get out of the city. san always wanted to be a teacher, and he already had offers all across the state, but the only job he cared about was in his hometown. it's where he wanted to be, and he knew that if he didn't tell you how he felt now, he may never get the chance. he wanted you to know so he could at least have a chance with you, even for a little while.

so he confessed, one night early in the semester. he was walking you home, his dorm only a few doors down from yours. at the door to your dorm he pulled you into a hug, which was normal for him. san was always a touchy friend, but what he said as he pulled away still bounces around in your head.

"y/n, i think i'm in love with you," he said earnestly. you looked in his eyes, trying to find the beginnings of a smile, some hint of a secret, that this was a joke. but he was serious. when you didn't say anything he shrugged, stepped away, and added, "i just wanted you to know."

you still don't know if it was shock or fear that kept you from saying anything that night, from calling his name and pulling him back in. but you didn't say anything then, you didn't say anything for months. san pretended like it never happened, and you just went along.

it didn't come up again until the going away party at the end of the year. school was over, finals done, and graduation was days away. everyone wanted to celebrate the past four years and freak out over what was next, all sharing where they were going and how scared they were. san was moving back home to be a teacher and wasn't scared at all. you were leaving for a bigger and better city the day after graduation and you were terrified.

later, san pulled you to the side and asked if you were ok. you knew he was referring to the job stuff, but you had other things on your mind. you were a little tipsy, so you decide that's why you leaned in and kissed him. it was quick, soft, barely a kiss, but you did it. you kissed him and pulled back faster than san could think, his eyes still closed when you parted and said, "i just wanted to know what it would feel like."

you were able to avoid him for the rest of the party, enjoying your last few hours with some of your best friends. you had an early morning, so you stopped drinking before everyone else and found yourself as a designated walker at the end of the night. you and san were elected to walk a few friends back to their dorms, dropping them off as you passed each building on your own walk home. inevitably, you were left alone with san at your door like that night months ago. san looked like he wanted to say something, and you didn't want him to leave, so instead of separating at the door you invited him in.

you'll never forget that night, and neither will san. but with your paths parting in a few days, you thought it would be something you could move on from eventually. a few weeks later, in your new city, at the perfect job, you found out you were pregnant. it hurt, the decision to not tell san, but the thought of stopping your life before it even started hurt more. you figured you would never see san again, or that you could at least keep the kid a secret if you ever hung out with your college friends again. you never thought that you'd somehow end up moving your daughter to the neighborhood where san grew up, or that the great school you fought to enroll her in could possibly be where san currently worked. but that's life, isn't it? or fate. or maybe just dumb luck. whatever it was, the universe was trying to get you to tell the truth and you're not sure you're ready to do that. to yourself, to violet, or to san.

san can't stop thinking about you. he tries so hard to catch a glimpse of you during carpool, but he's too busy focusing on a million other things and never manages to find you. he tries to think about how he could use violet to talk to you, like sending a note home with her, but that's inappropriate. he needs to see you again, though. that's when he gets an idea.

you and jen have become genuine friends, which has made things confusing for violet only because she treats jen like her teacher in casual settings. you met up for dinner the other night and violet raised her hand to ask jen a question, so hopefully she'll get used to it. san knows you two are close, and he knows if he asks jen about you she'll tell him whatever he wants to know.

at lunch one day he finds jen in the teacher's lounge and motions to the empty seat at her table. she lets him sit, but warns, "wooyoung saved the other seats for himself, so leave now if you want to."

wooyoung, one of the third grade teachers, was actually one of san's best friends. he's a hand full, yes, but fiercely loyal and caring. san doesn't necessarily want him to hear the conversation he wanted to have with jen, but oh well. as soon as san has that thought, wooyoung is bursting through the door with a stack of plastic containers from the lunchroom in his arms.

"m'lady," he nods to jen as he passes her a container. he looks to san and asks, "you want one bro?"

"what's in it?" san asks skeptically, and wooyoung shows off a stack of chicken sandwiches. "seriously?"

"hey, they're really good," jen pipes up. "the kids are lucky they get to eat these."

"how did you get so many?" san asks wooyoung as he takes a sandwich anyway.

"flirted with the lunch ladies."

"course you did," jen rolls her eyes, taking a bite of the sandwich. she chuckles to herself, and then shares, "you know, there's a kid in my class who calls these sammiches? no matter how many times you correct her, she won't say anything else. she told me this morning she didn't want to come to school, but she did because it was sammich day."

that's violet. san knows it is. he heard a snippet of your conversation in jen's classroom weeks ago, but he also knows he's heard violet say something similar when she comes to the gym. she loves those sandwiches, and san must admit, now that he's tried one he gets the hype. this is his shot though, he thinks to himself. he clears his throat and asks, "that's y/n's girl right?"

"who's y/n?" wooyoung asks, and jen responds, "san's girlfriend."

"no she's not," san says quickly. "she's kidding."

"you like her though?" wooyoung smirks, and san shakes his head.

"i-it's not like that," san explains. "i knew her a long time ago, and haven't seen her for a few years. that's all."

"so what about her?" jen asks.

"what do you mean?"

"well you brought her up," jen laughs. "you want me to tell her you asked about her? that feels very elementary of you, san."

"no, no, i was just, uh," san racks his brain for a response, "um, she's your room mom right? i may need to talk to her, for um, uh, field day."

"sure," jen nods. "i can give you her number, if you don't have it?"

"yeah, yeah," san nods too, "sure, if you think that'll be ok. i mean, i just needed to ask something, really quick, but, um, sure, yeah."

"if you really need to talk to her, she's coming in tomorrow i think," jen says, checking her phone. "yeah, tomorrow is violet's birthday, so y/n is bringing cupcakes at lunch. you can just stop by my class table and ask her whatever you need to ask her."

"oh, cool, great," san nods. wooyoung and jen share a quiet laugh, noticing that san seems like a bobblehead nodding so nervously. "yeah, tomorrow. lunch tomorrow. i'll be here."

you're running late. it's your kid's frickin birthday and you're late. you wanted to be supermom, make cupcakes from scratch, but work has been crazy on top of all the prep for violet's party, and you're just one woman. you can't do all of this by yourself, and it's times like these that you wish...no. that's not where you're going to let your mind wander today. today is all about violet, so as you rush out of the grocery store, you handle the store bought cupcakes with intense care. you can't be late and show up with smushed cupcakes.

thankfully this town is small enough that everything is within spitting distance, so you arrive at violet's school with just a few minutes left in her lunch. you hurry through the check in, rushing off to where you hope the lunchroom is. it would be just your luck to get lost right now, but you let out a breath of relief when you turn the corner and see the cafeteria ahead. you have to pause at the door to look for her class, and you hold back a sob when you see one very broad shouldered man sitting next to your beautiful daughter. you manage to walk up without violet seeing you, but at the sound of your footsteps, san turns. he smiles at you softly and he looks so much like violet it hurts. your eyes drift to your daughter, who's noticed you now and bounces in her seat.

"hey birthday girl," you say meekly, clearing your throat before you speak again. "how's your day been?"

"good!" violet smiles, showing you a half eaten vanilla cupcake with purple icing. "mr. choi brought me birthday cake!"

"aw, that's sweet," you say, looking to san. he's staring at you intensely as you ask, "did you tell him thank you?"

"i did!" violet confirms, but she turns to san and repeats, "thank you, it was yummy."

"do you have room for another?" you ask her, holding up the cupcakes you brought. violet already looks ready to bounce off the walls, so you'll have to apologize to jen later, but you ask if she wants to help pass out cupcakes to her friends. you hold the containers as she carefully hands out the treats, and you're pleased to know there were plenty of cupcakes for everyone. actually, there's some left over, so you start packing them up to take home but violet stops you.

"mommy, we need to give mr. choi one," she tells you, and you look to san sheepishly. "and there's one for you too, mommy!"

"i guess we're having cupcakes," you chuckle with san, offering him one of the last two cupcakes. "vi, can i take your spot?" she nods eagerly, letting you sit on the hilariously tiny lunch chair. you struggle balancing on it and look up to see san watching, trying not to laugh. violet is oblivious though, icing smeared all over her face as she talks to her friend across the table. "hey, no laughing. it's been a long day."

"sorry," san says, the remnants of a smile still on his face. "you doing alright?"

"i'm fine," you sigh slightly. you look at san again, really look at him, and you feel your heart constrict. "thank you for bringing her a cupcake."

"oh, sure," san says. "i didn't want to overstep, but jen told me yesterday, and i figured violet could at least take it home, but when i got here and didn't see, uh...you weren't here-"

"you can say it, i was late to my own kid's birthday," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your face. san finds himself staring at your fingers and something pops into his head.

"and again i ask, you doing alright?" he laughs with you. "being a parent must be hard."

"it has its bad days," you admit. "but for every bad day there's hundreds of good ones, so it makes the whole single parenting thing a little easier."

there it is. single. san looks down to your hands again, and has to hide his satisfied smirk. there's no ring.

"so, what-" san starts to ask, but the bell dings and the cafeteria erupts in even more sound. students talking, teachers yelling, chairs scraping as everyone is set in motion. jen walks over then, smiling when she sees you and san sat so close together. she waves hello before calling for her class, and you give violet a big squeezey hug and a kiss on the forehead before she takes her food and runs off. san watches you watching violet, and now it's his turn for his heart to twist. he's missed you. a lot.

"i guess i better go," you say as you gather all of the cupcake trash. san covers his hands over yours, stilling your movements and your heart, and says, "let me, i'll clean up."

"th-thank you san," you say shyly, and he waves you off. he can feel your eyes on him as he walks to the trash cans, and he can't help it, when he turns around he pulls a face that used to always make you laugh. his success rate is still high, because a beautiful giggle appears from deep within your chest, and then san is standing back in front of you. you know him, and you know there's something he wants to say, so you ask, "are you doing alright?"

"i'm fine," he nods, and you playfully push his shoulder. he smiles as he goes on, "actually, i was thinking about it, and i'll need your new number. for field day purposes, of course."

"oh," you breathe. "oh, right. room mom stuff. um, well unless you deleted my contact info, my number is the same."

"oh."

"yeah."

"right, then i guess i'm good," san says, looking around for any last bits of trash. "always good seeing you, y/n. tell violet happy birthday again from me."

"will do," you squeak out, calling out your thanks to him one last time as he walks away. you're left in the now silent lunchroom, heart and mind racing.

"i'm just saying, you and san would make a cute couple," jen repeats for what feels like the millionth time today. she's come over to your house early to help set up violet's birthday party, and you're thankful for the help but wishing the set up was less obvious. "you already know each other, so it's not like you'd have to go through that awkward dating phase-"

"did we put balloons on the mailbox already?" you cut through her words, grabbing a couple pink and purple balloons from the pile on the table. "i'll do that now, so people know which house it is. if vi wakes up, tell her i'll make birthday pancakes as soon as i'm done."

"will do," jen salutes you, taking the remaining balloons into the living room. "i'll tack these to the ceiling or something."

"please don't!" you call out before you shut the door, and you take a deep breath when you're outside alone. you don't know how to make jen stop talking about san, and it's draining. you've tried changing the subject and she always finds a way to bring san back into it. she means well, you know that. but what she doesn't know is that everything she says about san just rubs salt in the wound you inflicted on yourself, and it's getting harder to ignore. you're either going to snap and tell her to shut up, or you're going to snap and admit to what you've been hiding. either option isn't ideal, so fingers crossed violet wakes up soon and you can use her as a buffer.

tying the balloons to your mailbox ended up being more of an ordeal than you thought, so it takes you a while to trudge back into the house. you're tired already and the party hasn't started yet. you're making another cup of coffee when you realize the house is quiet, no sounds of jen and no sounds of vi. you let the coffee pot run as you walk around in search of the girls, and you hear a faint noise coming from the backyard. a peek through the window shows jen and violet running streamers from the back porch to vi's playset, and your heart warms. while they're outside, you get to work on the birthday pancakes in peace. you're almost done with them when you get a call, groaning to yourself thinking it's a parent calling about the party. you don't check the name before you answer, letting out a perfectly nice, "hello?"

"y/n, hi," san says on the other line. "is this a bad time?"

"um, n-no," you stammer, "it's um, no, i can talk. just for a minute."

"if you're busy i can call back-"

"no, san, go ahead," you insist. "just be warned i'm making pancakes, so i am a little distracted."

"oh yeah, you used to suck at those," san teases, and for a moment you're thrown back to college. you remember san staying over at your dorm, claiming he was too drunk to walk the fifteen steps down the hall. you let him crash on your floor, and he woke up to an awful hangover and the sound of you cursing over your batch of blackened pancakes. trying to be nice, san tried one anyway. you'll never forget the way you both belly laughed after he lied and said they were good with a look of fear in his eyes. later he admitted he'd never had something so bad, and you swore to never make pancakes again. san obviously remembers, because he asks, "what made you stop the pancake ban?"

"they're for vi's birthday."

"her birthday was on tuesday i thought?"

"yeah, but we're having her party today," you explain, and then you clap your hand to your forehead. you shouldn't have said anything.

"oh then i won't keep you," san says quickly. there's something strange in his voice, but you're so far removed from him that you can't pick up on it. "i hate to call about school stuff on the weekend, but this is the only time i had..."

while san explains the reason for his call (room mom duties + he missed you, but he leaves that part out), jen and violet come in from the backyard. streamers are done, and violet is wearing a torn one around her neck like a scarf. you wave her over for a hug and a kiss, and jen mouths, "who are you talking to?" so you show your phone screen. she gasps when she sees it's san, and it's like you're watching a lightbulb spring from her head. she's got an idea.

"invite him to the party!" jen hisses, and you push her away.

"is that the birthday girl?" san asks, and there's a softness in his voice that makes you melt. "do you need to go?"

"no, just one of the birthday elves being annoying," you grumble, trying to elbow away from jen but she grabs your phone anyway and says a cheery hello to her coworker.

"hey san! happy saturday," she starts off. "listen, are you doing anything around, say, one o'clock?"

"uh, not that i can think of-"

"great! then i'll have y/n text you her address, you should come to violet's party. there's plenty of food, and we'd love to see you!" jen says with an evil smile plastered on her face.

"um, can you hand me back to y/n?" san asks, and jen relinquishes your phone then disappears.

"san, you do not have to come if you don't want to, jen is-"

"jen's what!?" jen shouts from somewhere within your house.

"i want to come," san says, and you're so surprised you almost drop the pancake you're trying to flip. "if that's ok."

"i..." you trail off, and then you look at violet. sweet, lovely violet. you would do anything for that girl, but you know she deserves more. she deserves both parents, and the little part of you that's been wondering if san's reappearance was a sign is the part that wins you over. you say, "yeah, come to the party. i want you here."

"then i'm there," san says, and you can hear his smile. "should i bring a present?"

"no, god, don't worry about that. girl's spoiled already, she doesn't need another toy," you tell him, and san laughs.

"alright. then text me the address, and i'll see you soon i guess."

"yeah, see you soon," you mumble as you hang up and look around for jen. she's rightfully hiding somewhere, but violet's voice distracts you as she asks who you were talking to. "well sugar, i have an extra birthday surprise for you," you say as you plate her pancakes. "mr. choi might be coming to your party, is that ok?"

"mr. choi?!" violet shrieks as she stands in her chair. you remind her not to do that and she listens, but she looks at you and asks, "for seriously? he's my favorite teacher."

"hey," jen whines as she rejoins you, throwing away the remnants of wrapping paper in her hands. "and to think i got you the biggest coolest birthday present ever."

"really?" you and violet ask in unison, and jen nods enthusiastically at your daughter. when she joins you at the sink she whispers, "i didn't go overboard."

"yes you did," you whisper back.

"what did san want?" jen asks with that evil smile again, and you try to elbow her side but she darts away too quickly.

"i had told him about the game the kinder moms wanted our grade to do for field day, and he forgot what supplies it needed," you explain. "so he was calling about that, and the call was almost over when someone interrupted."

"y/n, listen," jen says sternly, and you both look over to violet to make sure she's distracted. jen keeps her voice down as she continues, "he likes you. don't ask me how i know, but i know. and the way you get so nervous around him, i know it sounds childish, but i think you have a crush on him-"

"jen," you say seriously. "please stop. you don't know what you're doing."

"no, y/n, you don't know what you're doing!" jen says, and you step back. "no, i don't mean it like that. i just mean, you said you were having a hard time doing this on your own. it may not be my place, but i think san could help. he'd be good for you and violet."

"you remember how san and i were friends years ago?" you ask, and jen nods, about to add to her case, but you cut her off. "we were close. really close."

"did you kiss?" jen asks excitedly and you roll your eyes.

"will you focus?" you smile anyway, and add, "we spent most of our time together, but then life stuff changed. we went in completely different directions, and it was just easier to say goodbye and go our separate ways. that was five years ago. well, six, now i guess," you correct yourself, your eyes betraying you as they flick back over to violet.

"oh my god," jen gasps. "no."

"yes."

"no way."

"yes."

"you're a liar."

"mommy's not a liar," violet chimes in, and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. "miss jen, that wasn't very nice."

"i'm sorry violet, you're right," jen says calmly. she looks closely at violet and then to you. "but sometimes what's right is hard to do."

"i know that," you sigh. "believe me. but we can talk about this later."

"you bet your ass we are!"

"miss jen!"

"sorry, sorry!"

you and jen do a good job of ignoring the truth bomb you set off just before guests started arriving, but knowing san will be here soon keeps you on edge all day. violet is having the time of her life, which takes a little bit of pressure off of you at least. you just have to play host to your family and friends all while keeping one eye on the door for san.

he arrives just past one. you heard the doorbell from the backyard, but as you're walking through the house you see your aunt opening the door for him. it opens to a stunning version of the man you've tried so hard to hide from, and just looking at him makes you blush. he's dressed casually, but nicer than the work out clothes you see him in at the school. jeans and a sweater, and glasses. san never wore glasses in school, and you're wondering why this news is making your stomach flip. when san finds you, his face lights up. he makes his way around a group of kids and pulls you into a polite hug, mumbling his greeting into your hair. you wish time would stop for a moment, let you stay in his hold a second longer. but he's pulling away and shyly presenting a gift bag, his sheepish eyes saying "sorry but not sorry."

"i told you not to bring anything," you scoff, taking the gift over to the present table anyway.

"it's something small, but i think she'll like it," san says, and you thank him. it's awkward for a second as you both search for something to say, but in the quiet san reaches to push his glasses further up his nose and you smile.

"so you getting old, choi?" you tease him, pointing to the glasses. "how long have you needed those for?"

"just a couple years," san shrugs. "i don't mind them, but it's easier to wear contacts at work. i actually like the way they look."

"they're cute," you agree, and you feel your heart thudding in your chest as san processes the compliment. he looks around your house then, and he distractedly puts an arm around you in another hug as he says, "your house is great, by the way. you've really made a life for yourself, y/n." he looks at you while he says the next part, "i hope you're proud of yourself."

"i am," you nod, suddenly very aware of how many people are here and possibly looking at you two. you feign a cough and san gets the hint. he pulls away and you immediately feel cold, but you catch a glimpse of jen eyeing you in the corner of the room. you shake off whatever was distracting you because of the man at your side, and you're about to excuse yourself to find violet when the woman in question appears below you.

"mr. choi!!!" she shouts as she jumps in place. "you're here!"

"i am!" he replies, holding hands and jumping with violet. "are you having fun?"

"yeah! cmere, i wanna show you my swings!" she says excitedly, and then san is being dragged outside. you follow at a safe distance, wanting to see how they interact without making it too obvious you're watching san and not your kid. some of the school kids present recognize a big kid in san and soon he's got a whole herd following him around. you laugh seeing him be so silly, so freely himself with these kids, and you wonder if this is what he's like as a teacher. then you find your mind wandering to what san would be like as a dad. you know he'd be great, so what are you doing?

you know you have to tell him. you see the way violet is smiling and laughing, and you can't keep this kind of joy from her anymore. you don't know when, and you don't know how, but you will tell san that he's the father of your daughter.

violet's birthday party was perfect. she had an amazing time, her friends had an amazing time, and you had an amazing time. with san. he fit back into your life perfectly, and as you were saying your goodbyes at the end of the night, you had the intense desire to kiss him. you didn't, but that's only because jen came over with a sleepy violet that she thrust into your arms. you and san were cooing over the tired party girl and jen inconspicuously snapped a picture of the three of you. you and san, looking down at violet with so much love in your eyes, and violet smiling her biggest smile. jen texted it to you later and you were grateful to have this moment captured forever.

you were staring at that photo now, waiting for violet to finish getting ready for school. you weren't really paying attention to the time, caught up in admiring san. you felt a sense of calm and safety when you thought of him, looked at him, and you're kicking yourself for keeping that same feeling from violet's life. you were so distracted by your thoughts that you didn't hear violet walk up, so you almost jumped out of your skin when she says, "whatcha doooin?" directly into your ear.

"oh baby you scared me," you gasp. she giggles and points to your phone.

"you were staring at mr. choi!"

"i was not," you roll your eyes, but she nods and goes, "yeah huh."

"i'm not getting into a yeah huh nuh uh fight with you right now," you say as you ruffle her hair. "you ready for school?" it's then that you give her a once over and screw your face up in confusion. "where's that shirt from? i don't remember buying you that."

"it was my gift from mr. choi, 'member?" violet says proudly as she shows it off.

"yeah, yeah, i guess i do," you reply. "you wanted to wear it to school?"

"so i can tell him thank you," she says simply, and you place a soft kiss on her forehead. your sweet girl.

"i'm sure he'll be happy to see it. c'mon, let's go."

san had an awful morning. none of the classes would listen to him, half of his equipment for this unit was broken or missing, and apparently he was getting evaluated this afternoon. nothing was wrong, it was just protocol, but why did he find out about it two hours before it was supposed to happen? he was stressed, unprepared, and wearing a t shirt that apparently has a hole in the armpit. one of the unruly classes so kindly pointed that out for him. so yeah, it's been a bad day. that's why he sat down at lunch with a huff, interrupting whatever jen and wooyoung had been talking about prior to his dramatic entrance.

"what's wrong with you?" wooyoung asks bluntly, and san scoffs.

"one of those days where i'm considering child abandonment."

"san!" jen gasps.

"i'm joking, chill out," he sighs. "i just. can today be over? i'd like it to be over. or can i get a redo? that might be better, considering i have an eval today i know i'm not gonna pass."

"if you go into it like that then duh you're gonna do bad," jen says. "but it hasn't even happened yet, so why be so negative?"

"whatever," san huffs again, poking at his food like it's the root of his bad day. "how has your day been."

"great, my kids are angels and i love my job," wooyoung jokes, so san kicks him under the table.

"your class was the first one to put me in a bad mood this morning."

"yeah, because i told them i accidentally killed our class pet."

"wooyoung!" jen gasps again.

"accidentally!"

"how'd you manage that?" san asks with the beginnings of a smile on his face. not that he was laughing over the death of a very tiny pet, no. but he did enjoy seeing wooyoung making mistakes. makes the world go round, he thinks.

"i forgot to take it home for the weekend and i came in this morning to bob the beta fish belly up," wooyoung explains. he raises his carton of strawberry milk in a toast, which san and jen play along with. "he didn't live long, i didn't like him, and the kids barely knew he was there. bob, may you rest in peace."

"this isn't making me feel better," san whines as they clink their drinks together.

"oh!" jen says happily, "i have something!" she shuffles around looking for her phone, and excitedly pulls something up for san to see. she shoves the screen so close to his face he can barely see anything, so he takes her phone and blinks to let his eyes adjust. he smiles immediately when he realizes it's the picture of him, you, and violet. he's so mesmerized by your beauty, all these years later, that it takes him a minute to shift his focus to the equally beautiful violet squeezed between you. she's perfect, san thinks. if he had a kid, he'd want her to be just like violet: kind, funny, full of energy and life.

"who is that?" wooyoung asks, pushing his face close to san's to catch a glimpse. "ooo, is that your milf?"

it's jen's turn to kick him underneath the table, but san must admit, that was a little funny. he doesn't answer right away, though. something about the picture has caught his attention.

"no," jen says sternly since san has gone mute. "that's my friend y/n and her kid violet, we've talked about them before. san came to her birthday party this weekend."

"the milf?!"

"no!" jen repeats. "violet. i helped y/n with the party, and since she and san go way back, i kinda invited san without her knowing."

"nice," wooyoung nods. "good. get him into the house, and then into her heart. maybe the pants too-"

"dude," san finally cuts in. "what's wrong with you?"

"you two are boring me," he sighs. "sue me if i wanted to have a little fun with our conversation."

"you took this?" san asks jen, ignoring wooyoung now. she says yes, so he asks, "can i send it to myself? do you think y/n would mind?"

"no, i think that's fine," jen replies with a smile. "go ahead."

"thanks," san mumbles, typing his number in quickly to send the photo. he doesn't want to seem weird, sitting here staring at it, but there's still something he can't quite put his finger on. something familiar about it. not quite deja vu, but like he's seen this before. he hands jen's phone back to her, and she continues some inane argument with wooyoung as san checks his phone. huh, he thinks, taking one last look at the photo as he saves it to his library. violet sure has a nice smile.

san's day does not get better. the evaluation was mediocre at best, but the assistant principal doing the visit pulled him aside and promised better equipment in the new year. at least one good thing came out of this awful day.

well, two good things. san keeps opening his phone just to stare at that picture of himself with you and violet. his desire to patch things up with you only continues to grow, and he's been thinking about you so much that he swears he hears your voice calling his name at the end of the day. then a squeakier, tinier voice joins in, and san realizes, oh shit, you and violet are in his office.

"hey, sorry," he shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "god, sorry. how long were you standing there?"

"not long," you assure him. "i hope we're not bothering you?"

"not at all," he says as he stands. violet runs up to him then, turning from side to side with her hands clasped in front of her. san laughs, looking from her to you as he asks, "what's going on?"

"vi had a surprise for you, and she forgot she didn't have pe today so she got into the car crying because you didn't get to see it," you explain. "we turned around as soon as i got the story, and now we're here. do you recognize her shirt at all?"

"oh my god!" san smiles, violet joining in. san bends down to pick her up and swings her around to the sound of giggles. "you're wearing my present! do you like it?"

"i do!" she chirps, hiccuping a little as the giggles continue. san slows and carefully places her back down as she says, "thank you for coming to my party."

"thank you for inviting me," san replies, and you realize he's talking to you. you consider telling him now, you can feel his gaze pulling the words right out of you, but you chicken out.

"thank jen," you remind him. "she's the one who ambushed me."

"ambush?" san laughs nervously. "i hope me coming over wasn't an ambush."

"i shouldn't have said that," you shake your head. "i just." you take a deep breath. "it's been hard, you know, seeing you again. getting used to you being back in my life."

"happy to be here," san says coolly, and you pick up on the undertones. you knew he must have been upset with you, only wanting him when you couldn't have him. he'd given you so many chances to be his, but you grasped the last one. san was mad at himself first, and he's not mad at you per se, but the memory of that still hurts. he could have been in your life, violet's life, this whole time. it was you who kept the door bolted shut. now it's like there's little cracks filtering in bits of sunlight, and you're basking in them. you're just afraid that the warmth you feel from san now will burn you someday, that your past will be too hard to get over, and you can't tell him about violet until you know how he really feels.

"listen, we should go, but i want to hang out with you soon," you tell him, and san looks at you confused. "we need to catch up, don't you think?"

"sure," san agrees. "let me know where to be and when, i'll make it work."

that friday night, you have a babysitter (jen) and plans to meet san for dinner. jen is already here, you can hear her and violet whispering about something in the living room as you finish getting ready. this is not a date, but you're so nervous it might as well be. you could end up telling san tonight, if things go right. and if they go wrong...that's what's making you so nervous. the anxious side of you is already thinking of schools you can move violet to if the night goes bad, and the optimist is thinking about san finally being a dad to violet.

it's like he knew you were thinking about him, because his caller id lights up your phone (yes, his contact photo is that picture).

"you're cancelling," you say as soon as you pick up.

"what? no, freak," san chuckles. "i'm outside, but i'm sorry, i can't remember if your house has the red door or the blue one."

"you're what?" you ask, walking from your room to the front door. jen and violet watch on in curiosity, and you let out a sound of disbelief when you open the door to see san, standing by his car, looking from your house to the one next door.

"oh. found it," he teases, hanging up as he comes to the door. "you're not ready yet?"

"no, because i thought we were meeting there, i had more time," you say as you check your phone and notice you actually did not have time. "ok, i thought i had more time, but still. you didn't say you were picking me up."

"surprise?" san says sheepishly, peeking inside to wave to the girls.

"hi mr. choi!" they respond in unison, and san chuckles again.

"um, well, i wasn't expecting- i still have to-" you stammer out, basically turning in circles before staring back up at san. "give me two minutes."

"two? it'll be more like ten," san calls after you. you sort of sprint back to your room, checking that you look put together. your eyes look nervous, though. you hope san can't pick up on that. you grab your favorite necklace, one that violet picked out for you recently, and hold onto the heart pendant as you take a deep breath. you can do this. it's just san, your old pal! your friend! the father of your daughter who has no idea his life could have been completely different or that it's going to change with the information you're about to give him! great! let's go eat some tacos!

you and san both give violet hugs goodbye (she insisted) and jen says goodbye with a wiggle of her eyebrows. she thinks this is a date, and she spent an appropriate amount of time hyping you up tonight. she's known san more recently, so she gave you good insight on the whole telling him situation. she assured you that, while he may be frustrated by you not telling him sooner, under it all he'll be happy. he's wanted a family of his own since he started working at the school, so she's sure he'll be nothing but thrilled once the initial shock wears off. boy do you hope she's right.

san is being such a gentleman. first picking you up, then rushing out of the car to open your door for you, pulling your chair out at the restaurant...it's making this feel like a date. it's also making you scared that you're going to chicken out, but you can't.

"so," san says with a :] smile. "what did you want to talk about?" you take a moment to mess with the chips and salsa in front of you before you respond. you're taking so long that san takes a deep breath and starts, "i hope you know i'm not mad at you."

"what?" you ask in a small voice, chip halfway to your mouth.

"i'm not mad at you," san goes on. "i never was. i hope you know that."

"but i was a dick," you tell him, and he lowers his head with a laugh. you want him to listen to you though, so you grab his hand laid out on the table and squeeze. "no, seriously, that was such an asshole move on my part. only letting down my walls and letting you in the night before we both moved away? i've never forgiven myself for that."

"but you should," san shrugs. "i understand. i'm glad it happened. if i had to choose, i'd rather it happen the exact same way than not happen at all."

"right," and now it's your turn to look down. you let go of san's hand and go back to messing with the food in front of you. "i'm still sorry for how i acted."

"it's ok, i promise," san assures you. you aren't looking at him so he clears his throat and says, "actually, while we're talking about...back then. i have something to tell you too." oh no, you think. you nod to encourage him to continue, not sure you can speak right now. "um, well, here goes. i know it's been years, and we've barely talked since school, but..i don't know, y/n. i still think you're the one for me, and i was just wondering, maybe, since we're both in the same town again, and we see each other so often..."

"what, san?" you whisper, afraid of what he's going to say.

"will you go out with me?" he asks. "finally?"

"san," you sigh, and he shakes his head.

"no, don't say no yet. you can think about it. i know you have a lot more to consider than i do, so i don't mind waiting. but i wanted to put it out there. in case, uh, in case you were interested."

"put it out there? why are you talking about this like a couch you're trying to get rid of?" you tease him to ease the tension. "you just asked me out and now you sound like you're not sure."

"i'm sure," san says firmly. "very sure. but i don't want you to feel pressured."

"you've never made me feel anything but loved, san," you let slip, and you want to etch the look on his face into your memory forever. he looks so pleased, so purely happy at your words. they're hanging in the air as the waiter comes by to take your order, and that provides enough of a distraction that you both go back to a semblance of normalcy when he leaves. you fall into an easy conversation, catching up over your lost years. san tells you all about work, his family, his friends. it makes you happy that you chose this town, this school, to raise your kid in.

you fill san in too, but only the highlights. you don't want to ruin your dinner with the news, so you tell him about your career since he knows the least about that. he can't stop telling you how proud he is, and reiterates how amazing you are for raising a kid on top of it. you've got a steady blush on your cheeks as you keep chatting, and you notice then that the meal is over. your plates have been cleared for a while, and san paid without you knowing. how'd he do that?

"i was going to pay for my food," you protest.

"nope, my treat," san says. "let someone else take care of you for once."

"well thanks," you squeak out. "i've got you next time though."

"if there's a next time, i'm still paying," san replies so you roll your eyes and drop it for now. "um, before we go though, i was wondering...can i ask about violet? i feel like you barely mentioned her."

"oh, sorry," you laugh it off. "i don't get a chance to talk about myself a lot, so i'm not saying i forgot to mention vi, i just..."

"i get it," san nods in understanding. "you wanted to brag about yourself for a minute, that's ok. i'm glad you did."

"good," you smile shyly. "but, yeah, violet. what about her?"

"i wanna hear as much as you're willing to tell me," san says, and looking into your eyes, you know he means the father. "was there some great love of your life you don't want to tell me about?"

"san, it's not like that," you tell him, then think to yourself that in a way it is true. you think san is the love of your life, but you can't say that yet. "right, well, i have something to tell you, actually," you say in a voice stronger than you expected. you thought you'd be nervous, but it's like some mom power kicks in and you're able to stare directly into san's strong, gorgeous eyes as you speak. "can i?" you motion to his hands, and he holds them out so you can place your smaller ones in his. still looking into the eyes you've grown to love, you take a deep breath and say, "i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner. but san, you're violet's dad. she's your daughter."

"what?" he asks in a shaky voice.

"when we.." you try to explain, and have to start over, "that night. five years ago-"

"six," san corrects.

"six, you're right. that night was when she...yeah. i found out about violet a month later, after i had moved. i tried calling you. i did, i swear, and i know that sounds so childish but it's the truth. i tried calling you, tried figuring out how to tell you...but i heard how happy you were, how easy it was for you to settle into your life back at home. i didn't want to throw something unexpected at you and change all of that."

you rambled, and you're not sure how easy that was to follow. or how believable it was either, but you've said it. you're watching san take it in, and he's unnervingly calm. you can't read his face at all, but you realize you've been squeezing his hands and he's squeezing yours right back. you relax your grip then, but he doesn't. he stays quiet.

"san, say something."

"th-thank you," he stutters, finally slipping his hands out of yours. "thanks for protecting me from that, i guess."

"san, i-"

"no, y/n, it's fine," he shakes his head and stands. "come on, let's go. it's getting late."

the car ride is silent. san says nothing, but you can feel the emotions radiating from him. or maybe those are your own? fear, resentment, sadness...you always thought telling san the truth would make everything better. make you feel at peace at last. but currently you feel more ill at ease than you ever have. you want to crawl out of your skin, you want to scream at yourself, at san, just to get some kind of reaction out of him.

when he pulls into your driveway, he puts the car in park but doesn't unlock the door. you can tell he wants to say something, so you wait. you think you see jen peeking through the blinds, but you're not sure. a quick glance at the clock tells you violet's been in bed for a while, but knowing jen she probably let her stay up a little longer. you hope she's still awake when you go in, you could really use a hug from her right now.

"y/n," san calls your name softly. you turn your body completely so he can see you fully, and you see he's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. "does she know?"

"huh?"

"violet," san says her name so carefully, so purposefully. like it's taken on a new meaning. "does violet now i'm her dad?"

"n-no," you stutter, and san slumps his head down. "but i told her about you. about her dad."

"she looks just like me," he says, and that's when you notice the sadness in his voice. he sounds broken, and it feels like your heart rips itself to shreds.

"san, i am so sor-"

"don't. just don't." you watch him carefully, and you think you see tears. "i can't..."

"can't what?" you want to reach out and touch him, to brush the tears away, but you hesitate.

"i can't believe you kept this from me," he says in a whisper so small you barely heard it.

"i was young and stupid and scared, san," you defend yourself. "i didn't know what i was doing, i should have tried harder to get in touch but-"

"i didn't get to be there y/n," he spits out, and you stop talking as he turns to you. "i missed her birth, her first steps, her first words. i wasn't in her life! she's my kid and you kept her from me for some of the most important years of her life."

"i know, and i'm..i'm sorry."

"sorry doesn't cut it." he's full on crying now. "i thought...i thought you cared about me. about what we meant to each other. how could you do this?"

"i was wrong to keep you away," you admit. "it ate me alive every day, but the longer i waited the harder it was to call you. and this is totally self inflicted but raising a kid on my own was hard! after i made that choice i barely had time to think about anything else!" you're shouting now, not out of anger, but frustration. "it was selfish, and i'm sorry. but i told you. you've always been part of violet's life. i tell her about her dad all the time. she asks about you, and i've never lied to her. i only kept your name, who you are to me, a secret."

"yeah that makes me feel so much better," san rolls his eyes, and you scoff before reaching over him to unlock the doors. as soon as you do, you're out of the car and rushing to your front door, san running behind you calling your name.

you get into the house and see jen moving around in the kitchen, but no signs of violet. san has stopped behind you, standing awkwardly at the threshold, so you grab his shirt and pull him along with you into violet's room. at the sound of the door opening she bolts up in bed. she looks confused, seeing two figures in her doorway, but when she recognizes you she makes little grabby hands for you to join her. again, san stays at the door, watching the two of you with a new perspective.

"cmere sugar," you whisper softly, sitting on violet's bed. you maneuver her so she's sitting on your lap.

"why is mr. choi here?" she asks, and you hear san take in a breath.

"his name is san, violet. and he's very important to me," you explain. violet is facing san as you ask, "can you tell us all you know about your daddy?" she nods, and then begins.

"mommy says he's very nice, the nicest man in the world!" violet starts out. "she says he's smart and strong and funny and handsome. she says i have his smile!" and with this she smiles, teeth and all, and san sees himself in her. it brings tears to his eyes, but she keeps going. "mommy says he's caring, and i had to ask what that meant. she says being caring means you're a good friend and you're nice to everybody. that reminds me of you, mr. san!"

"anything else baby?" you ask violet, stroking her hair. "what else do we say about daddy?"

"we love him very much," violet answers proudly. "and even if he's not with us, like in the same house or something, he's always right here!" and with that she puts her hand over her heart. she looks up at you then, asking, "did i miss anything mommy?"

"nope, you got it all sugar," and you kiss the top of her head, afraid to meet san's eyes. "thank you, violet. are you ready to go back to bed now?"

"yeah, but i want a bedtime story," she pouts, and you wonder if san notices how similar they look then too. "babysitter jen does too many funny voices, and one of them scared me."

"ok, i'll read you a story," you whisper, slowly and carefully dumping her back into bed as you stand. "but i need to talk to san really quick, is that ok?"

"uh huh," violet nods with a yawn, cuddling back up to her favorite stuffie. as san looks around her room, he notices a pillow he used to have, tucked in the corner of violet's bed. he used to call it shiber, it was something silly, but he loved that thing in college. it went missing the week before school ended, and san always wondered where it went. well, now he knows.

you carefully pull violet's door shut as the two of you back out into the hallway. the rest of the house is quiet, so you wonder briefly if jen has gone home. you look to san, ready to defend yourself further, get him to understand where you're coming from, but then you see the tears on his cheeks. now you do reach up and wipe them away, his hands covering yours and squeezing tightly.

"i am so sorry for keeping you away," you say one last time. "it was wrong. it will take time, but i will do everything i can to make that up to you."

"you can do it right now," san breathes out, the first easy breath he's taken since this conversation started. "let me be in her life. in yours. i missed so much, i can't miss anymore of it."

"we're here if you want us," you tell him, and san squeezes your hands again before pulling them from his face. he drapes your arms over his shoulders, his drifting to your waist.

"i do," he nods eagerly. "i want you." and with that, he kisses you. it's not a soft kiss, no. there's more force behind it than that. there's six years (maybe more) of repressed feelings in that kiss. it's the kind of kiss that makes you want to pop your foot up, the kind that sends butterflies soaring up from your stomach through your chest. you're so lost in the feeling that you don't hear violet's door open, and then...

"oh! mommy! mr. san is biting you!" violet shrieks, so you and san finally detach. you keep your foreheads together as you look down at violet staring disapprovingly at you.

"he's not biting me, we were kissing," you explain to her, but she doesn't like that answer.

"hey, i got in trouble for kissing a boy on the playground," she whines, and san looks at you in shock. you nod to confirm as you tell her, "that's because you shouldn't kiss at school. and you're too young. you can kiss when you're-"

"thirty," san finishes for you, making you both laugh as violet whines more.

"i was just gonna say when she's older," you whisper to him, and he shrugs.

"had to assert my parenting style somehow."

"why are you and mr. san whispering?" violet asks with a jump and her arms in the air. you're about to pick her up when san bends down and scoops her instead, so you can talk to her eye level.

"we're talking about you," you say as you boop her nose. "and stop calling him mr. san."

"what do i call him then?" she pouts, and you share your first silent parent language stare with san.

"actually baby, we have something we need to tell you..."

848 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 5 months

Text

Who Runs the World? You Do

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Mafia!Reader

Rating: R

Words: 2.0K

Warnings: Oral (f reciving) blood, violence, etc. Angst, fluff, Reader is the dom in this relationship and spoils Pierre

Requested: Yes/No

Request: What about kingpin mafia!reader x sugarbaby!Pierre? She’s just running an entire crime syndicate while spoiling her trophy husband Pierre. I think it be fun if he was still a f1 driver and all his fans think that she’s just a very introverted mysterious stay at home wife because they don’t know she’s actually a criminal. His fans think that Pierre is paying for all their expensive clothes houses cars etc because they think she’s unemployed but really she’s this terrifying international criminal that loves buying her husband pretty things. I’m to excited about this to come up with any proper plot points right now so I’ll leave you with this concept in case you have any cool ideas for it

Synopsis: Married to an F1 Driver isn't easy, but neither is running the largest crime organization.

French terms to know: Yeux bleus (blue eyes), Péché (Sin)

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve/Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays/ and Yule to those who celebrate! This is a yule gift to @chrysanthemonza now they can't bother me for it anymore! Love you bby!!!!!

Water cascades down your back, working to release the muscle tension. Groaning, you let the water burn your skin, trying to wash away the day's activities. Since you needed to be with your husband.

It was easy to sneak past him as he laid out in bed, the cold French air licking your skin. He's gorgeous when he's asleep. The way his cross necklace sits on his chest, hating how you love the chest hairs curling around it. Dirty blonde hair, the color of wet sand, plastered to his forehead. His skin, kissed by the sun, is rippled with muscle due to his job.

You knew he was asleep naked, the way the cover was showing off the happy trail and not stopping, his bare hip displayed. Everything in you screamed to just forget the shower and join him in bed. But, he wouldn't appreciate you ruining the expensive and handpicked Egyptian cotton sheets. Everything in your villa was handpicked and designed by him. He took pride in the home the two of you had built, hating when you dragged work through it.

So, the shower had won to save from your husband's gripping and pouting. A pressure at your back has you whipping around, placing an antique shaving razor on the person's carotid. "Move, and you're fucking dead." You hiss. "Péché." A groggy French accent has you moving the weapon quickly. "Oh, oh my Yeux bleus. I'm so sorry." Terror and regret clenching your chest.

You'd just raised a weapon to the person you swore never to hurt, and his eyes softened. "Hey....it's okay. You didn't hurt me." Placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. "I heard the water running and figured it was you." Your husband whispers, reaching behind you and turning the water off. "Where'd you fly off to this time?" Pressing the shower door open, he grabs your towel, taking his time to dry you off. Placing whispers of kisses on your skin here and there.

"Shanghai. Had work and to acquire something for my Yeux bleus." You smile when he kisses the inside of your thigh, nipping at it. "You need to stop buying me stuff." Lashes fluttering, his nose bumping you. Fuck, his lips were so close to his goal that it was hard to concentrate on your words.

"So? I wanna spoil my baby. Pierre, you've earned it." Smirking as you watch his eyes dart back and forth from your pussy to your eyes. "I have?" You are no longer talking about the gift you've bought him. "Of course, you've been so good for me. Besides, I figured you could use a nice treat to help you throughout the race." Pierre chuckles, his tongue sticking out, flattens it.

Legs twitch when his tongue splits your lips apart, hand digging into those strands of hair. Moving his tongue from front to back, you whine, his teeth grazing your clit. Pulling away, lips already glistening from your juices, his tongue cleans them off, smirking.

"Come here." You gasp when Pierre scoops you up like nothing, pulling the towel off and heading to the bedroom. "What are you doing?" Laying you on your back, his eyes clear as day. How blue they were, you could drown in them. "If I'm going to eat my wife out, I will do it properly."

Sliding down, lips leaving burns on your skin from how feverish you burned. "And that means," He lifts both your legs, hooking them over his shoulders. "I'm going to have you shaking and leave you swollen and achy." Biting your lip, you hate the way he can take control from you.

"Okay." Pierre smiles, his head dips down, and a moan is torn from your throat, back arching. The sounds of his lips and tongue devouring you, your gasps and cries fill the still night. Pierre's hands hold your hips, feeling how you twist and arch, trying to escape. "Pierre....oh, right there." His teeth bite your clit gently, not enough to hurt but to send a wave of pleasure through you.

Pierre chuckles as he works his tongue carefully and is drawn out. Arching your back up, you whimper, pulling at his hair. "Fuck, mmm." You whimper as you feel that bundle of nerves crawl up your stomach and to your throat. "Come for me, my gorgeous girl." With one last nip, your muscles tighten as you come undone by his mouth, feeling your heart shudder to a stop.

Pierre slows down his tongue, pulling you down from your high slowly but delicately, almost like he'd hurt you if he went any faster. "Fuck, I think you deserve a treat." You tease; Pierre chuckles and moves up, devouring your mouth in a passionate kiss that has your toes curling. "A treat, you say," He whispers, pecking your lips as he lies down next to you, arms pulling you into his chest.

"Yes? I want to spoil you some more. How about you pick out a gorgeous mountain house during Christmas break? I'll buy it. Say, an anniversary gift?" Pierre mulls it over and blushes at the thought. "I'd like that." Lips curling up, you move so his head can rest on your chest. "Perfect, start looking so I can buy it and have the cash on hand."

-----------------------------------------

"She's scary," Yuki whispers as he watches you fix your deep wine-red lipstick. It was rare for you to be at a GP, and when you were, the others barely saw you. But Pierre had begged you, and with 2 orgasms later, here you were, sitting under the Italian sun.

"She's not scary, Yuki," Charles grumbles, but he doesn't even know his best friend's wife well. It was odd not knowing who Pierre was married to. Not knowing where they lived, Charles knew Pierre lavished you with rare gifts. "She is. I said hello, and she looked me up and down like she wanted to step or eat me." He whispered and hid behind Charles's back when your sunglass-covered eyes landed on them.

"Charles," Your accent drawls out his name, and the Ferrari driver stiffens as those lips curl into a cat-like smirk. "Mrs. Gasly." He curses himself for not remembering your name, but you seem content with his reply. "Good luck today," Is all you say as you stand, towering over him almost in your heels as you walk off. Not before two men stroll past and join you at your hip.

"Yeux bleus?" You call out sweetly, looking for your husband. You find him with some reporters and stop short. Cursing, you throw on your sunglasses, hoping they don't catch any pictures of you. The last thing you needed was for the Italian Mafia to see you here. Stepping back, you notice that Pierre smiles at you gently and moves to cover your form.

"We just heard you purchased a new house in the Swiss Alps. Gift for that wife of yours?" You tense at the question, hearing the venom and condescension in the reporter's voice. You wanted to rip his throat out for speaking to him like that. Pierre just smiles brightly and nods. "Yeah, it's an anniversary gift. We're delighted and can't wait to spend our holiday there." Pierre smiles brightly, and it hurts your heart.

You sometimes wished he had married someone else. Someone could stand in the sun next to him instead of constantly hiding in the shadows. Pierre never cared. Honestly, he knew somewhat of what you did and the reason for you hiding, but beyond that, he didn't press. "Yes, but we know you're an F1 driver, but she's unemployed. How could you afford that house?" The reporter pressed on, and you could see the slight waver in Pierre's smile.

"I work hard to spoil my wife. Do you have any questions about my racing now?" The reports raise their voices to get your husband's attention. Smiling, you drop it when you feel a presence join you. "Your Yeux bleus is quite good at handling the media. You, on the other hand. Have got some balls." The Southern Italian accent is vital in your ear and scuff at his bravery.

"Yes, I do have balls. They're much larger than yours and sitting on my chest." You spit back, rapid-fire Italian, as you turn to face the second in command to the Mafia. "Leave me the fuck alone; I'm here for pleasure, not business. " The man grunts and presses up against you. Without thinking, you move quick and shove a knife into his crotch and cover his mouth.

"Scream, I fucking dare you too." You seeth, hoping no one can hear you two. "Cunt," You twist the knife as he whimpers like a baby. "Tell your boss that if you ever, and I mean ever, come near me and my baby again, I'll take both your dicks." You quickly shove him off. Looking down at your outfit and hands, you curse and head for privacy. "Boss," One of your men runs up, but you shrug them off.

"Protect Pierre. I'm sure there might be more of them around. Tell him I'm just freshening up if he's looking for me. The heat is ruining my makeup or something like that." He nods his head and rushes to join your husband's side. Walking into the private bathroom, you sigh as you wash your hands, watching the blood come off. "Can't even be here without spilling some blood." You whisper, feeling that self-hatred blooms in your chest.

Pierre only ever asked one thing. Don't do work at his work. He could understand, but this time it was you who reacted when you could have easily just drugged the man instead of taking his jewels. "Mrs. Gasly, your husband is about to race." Sighing, you change into one of his shirts tucked into your pants and head out, sliding the thick sunglasses back on.

Pierre is seen arguing with the bodyguard as he tries to move the guard steps in front of him. "Yeux bleus?" Pierre relaxes upon hearing those words and quickly gathers you in his arms. "I couldn't find you, thought you left." He whimpers, and you hate that you give him this anxiety. Sometimes, he does wake, and you are gone, without a trace or word, and not back for days, even weeks.

"I'm still here, always." "Not always," It was a low jab, one probably deserved as he rested his cheek in the palm of your hand. "I know. Work keeps me busy." Pierre snorts but refuses to fight about this now. "Just promise me one thing?" He asks, you squint your eyes but nod.

"Anything," You mean that you'd give him the fucking sun if he asked. "Leave that world, come back to the light for me?" Your face drops, and you step back, shaking your head. "No, if I leave, I can't protect you. Go race, we'll talk later." Pierre's baby blue eyes turn to a dark and stormy grey. "Yeah, right," Biting your tongue, knowing if you were in the privacy of your home, you'd have him being a whimpering begging mess for your forgiveness.

Watching Pierre climb into the car, and soon the race starts, you stay back, watching as he works his way up the field and into a good position.

"Boss, sorry but," You sigh, holding up your hand, knowing what he was about to say would ruin this. "Where are we going?" The guy makes a noise and shows you the phone. A text in angry Estonian. "Fuckkkkk," You loved Estonia but now you'd want nothing more than to stay. But you couldn't.

"Alright, let's go home." Turning back, you nod to the guard that stays with Pierre. No words are needed as he'd explain everything to your husband for you. "We could always stay," Your guard whispers, and you see the silent plea for you to stay, knowing this would result in a huge fight later. "No, I have work. He understands." Walking to the car, you climb in, hearing the roar of the engines and the fading sound of the crowd.

"He'll understand," You say to no one, leaving it in the air as a silent pray. But Pierre wouldn't understand, not this time.

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glow-worms-are-believers · 7 months

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Geocaching fic idea (dp x dc)

Ok so, in this Tucker gets into geocaching stuff. He's got his trusty PDA and he's on forums doing different geocaching with some of them being more elaborate. Then he comes across this old thread of riddle and puzzle-filled geocaching which seems really cool, but the problem is it looks like the thing has been shot down. Which would suck, except Tucker digs into it a bit more (so what if he tracks the IP dress and looks into the original poster's file) and finds a brand new one.

Of course, Tucker is super hyped and decide to do it. The puzzle seem really fun and even if there's no prize to find in the end, it looks like a good time. So he cracks the first puzzle and gets to the first location.

He gets there and finds that he's not alone! There's a bunch of costumed people doing the geocache thing too! They seem to be really into method acting and are all like ‘our associate has been kidnapped and these clues were left by a super villain to find him'. Tuck has done LARPing before and he can roll with it, in fact he thinks it's pretty neat. But then they try and tell him to go home.

Tuck doesn't want to ruin their vibe but this is really dope so he decides to prove he's not amateur by solving the second riddle. The people look like they respect him a bit more, but are still hesitating. Tuck figures it's cause they don't want him to ruin the LARPing part so since they're all acting as superheroes he decides to tell them he's himself a hero but he's in civies right now (which is even sorta true with Team Phantom and all!)

So they get through the clues and Tucker can't remember last time he had this much fun. The guys are such good actors, Tuck can't help but think they have to be some kind of famous, so he plans to ask for an autograph at the end of the geocaching thing. After a bit, they eventually manage to find the 'kidnapped victim' (there's even a vat of fake acid and yet another fantastic actor playing a flamboyant villain) and save the day. Tuker is so so glad they let him join in because that was epic, he does have to say goodbye though he says they should do this again sometime.

As for the bats, they just met a very competent new hero on the scene who just handed them his civilian identity in order to help save one of their own. They are very grateful (and only a tiny bit suspicious as is par for the course with the bats) and they want to offer any help they can or at least exchange contact information which they didn't manage to get since the guy left so fast. So, they look him up.

#later the costumed guys come to Amity Park and Tucker realizes they weren't LARPing at all #he proceeds to never tell anyone that he thought the rescue mission was geocaching #dc x dp #dp x dc #tucker foley #roxpox #roxpoxwrote #geocaching au

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singingcicadas · 6 months

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The beginning of the Decepticons according to Megatron:

The beginning of the Decepticons What Actually Happened:

That it could ever be called a revolution of the oppressed is a joke. Megatron's philosophy is purely pugno ergo sum. I fight, therefore I am. His first recruitment speech was a promise for power, made to the most bloodthirsty audience he could dig up from the dregs of society. Those people were there because they thrived off the bloodsport. They wanted audition to join Megatron in the pits. Megatron offered them something even better: turn the entire planet into our gladiatorial arena, and we take.

Ever since the beginning Megatron viewed the Decepticons as nothing but a tool, to be used and thrown away. He wanted them to be as ruthless as possible in order to wipe out all opposition, but once his end goal's achieved, well, there's no place for ruthlessness in a perfect society under his absolute control. Therefore, remodelling and recreating. It doesn't sound like he wants to rule over actual people with individual personalities, he wants a bunch of mindless drones programmed for obeisance and peace and hardcoded to Do What Megatron Says.

Ravage and Tarn. It's interesting how they both use the word "emancipated" when lauding Megatron's accomplishments, when it's clear that Megatron did so for the practical purpose of bulking up his army. He overthrew those in power because he wanted to be the one in power. The only one. The people he "emancipated" were just exchanging one set of shackles for another, as they had no choice other than to join the Decepticon army. Not fighting was not an option. Cowardice was punishable by traitor's wheel. Going neutral was also not an option. Soundwave had specific anti-neutral pogroms for those.

I wonder if they knew what "the Megatron they loved" had in mind for the Decepticons after they won the war. The remodeling and recreating. Or maybe they thought that's just for the lowly genericons. That they would be exempt from such treatment because they were confident of their privileged places at Megatron's side. After all, if you're rooting for someone whose motto is peace through tyranny, you'd do so with the expectation that it's only Other People who are going to get tyrannized.

It's true that he did rise against an oppressive government, despite it being the goal to replace it with himself as the tyrant.

But he also thought the single admirable quality about Zeta was his ruthlessness. As in trying to kill an entire city of his own people to fuel his vamparc ribbon. And he said that in front of Hot Rod, who was forced to bomb his own city to stop Zeta from winning. Even disregarding the twisted values here, this is still fifteen levels up the insensitivity lane. No wonder Hot Rod didn't want to join up.

Torture's for fun and domination. It takes a special kind of sadistic streak. And this is before the war even officially started.

Thundercracker's view on the Decepticon cause, when he defected to save humans from the nuke:

"Everything we have done here" - Just here? He'd either been living under a rock for the entirety of the war or has some serious misunderstandings about what the Decepticon name is.

Or just been willfully blind for four million years and the deaths of a hundred billion lifeforms until the day he decided to grow a conscience. Same with Soundwave.

Tarn's a really good case study because he's the poster boy of Megatron's Decepticon propaganda. Megatron probably spoonfeeds him the stuff by the gigabytes and he regurgitates them with twice the zeal and tenfold the pretentiousness. He's also the embodiment of the vices and tragedy of the Decepticons as a whole, as created by Megatron. A sadistic hypocrite, a glorified thug, a delusional fanatic, a customized tool for use and dispose. Crippled by the blinkering desire to be superior, to be part of a greater cause.

Megatron cares nothing for Tarn, just like how he cares nothing for the Decepticons. During the war they were a means to an end. After Megatron's defection, their "toxic loyalty" became a personal burden, a blemish from his past that he would like to cast aside and move on from but annoyingly refuse to leave him alone.

The road-sweepers and the haulers. The miners. What were they to Megatron during the war? Disposable cannon fodder. A pretty banner to hide behind. For a movement that likes to justify itself as a revolution of the oppressed, the emancipation of the disenfranchised, there's certainly a distinct lack of those classes among the upper Decepticon ranks. Megatron said in his recruitment speech that he wanted strength and power. Then where did that leave the weak and sick, the empties on the streets?

Nowhere but the smelting pool, to be recycled into something useful for the great Decepticon cause. They should be honoured, really.

Freedom fighters? No, freedom won't be missed. Probably has something to do with the remodelling and recreating part.

Starscream's only partially right. It was absolutely Megatron's intent to tap into that well of rage and resentment, and he meant for the riot to happen. Of course it got away from him in the end - that's what happens when you cobble an army out of bloodthirsty power-hungry degenerates, half of which were on board for the violence, half for their own scheming agendas, and the rest stitched together by charisma and fear - but he'd shaped the events enough to come a hairsbreadth away from winning multiple times. People like Shockwave and Scorponok were treacherous, but they weren't the reason that Megatron lost the war.

It was his own blind arrogance that led to his downfall.

No he didn't lose his way. He's exactly where he set himself out to be, from the moment he gave that speech in the arena. Perhaps even earlier, to that gradual slide when killing his opponent in a match no longer felt like a guilty burden but instead brought him the sweet rush of satisfaction. There was no revolution. There was no righteous cause. There was no for the people and never has been, because he did not care about other people. Four million years and countless deaths, and it was only really about one insanely self-centered person and his deluded ambition of peace through tyranny.

Hence his breakdown, because he'd just been hit in the face with the realization that he was Wrong. And has been wrong for the past four million years. He wasted everyone's lives. He wasted his own life, wasted it on anger and destruction and hatred, with nothing but regrets to show for it.

I believe that Megatron believed he's telling the truth here. I believe that he meant every word he said, except for that one "we" on the second last line.

Because that "we" should really be "me".

The Megatron who wrote about pacifist rhetoric, who was compassionate enough to share his fuel with the injured, who cared about others and had genuine friendships, that Megatron died a long time ago in the pits. Ever since then, every murder, every atrocity he'd committed in the name of "the people" was just facist rationalization.

I'm sure that he likes the sound of "emancipation of the people" or "freedom of choice" as a concept. But when it comes down to individual people? With actual, real choices that conflicts with his desire for absolute rule? Nope. He's the only one who should get to make choices. The only one who should have choices. Because he knows best.

Form dictates your function ❌; Megatron dictates your function ✅

Function dictates your fate ❌; Megatron dictates your fate ✅

Great minds must think alike, because Megatron and the Functionalist council in the Functionalist universe did a lot of the same stuff. Massacring the Senate. Recycling people who are deemed useless burdens. Remodelling and recreating. Imperalism and genociding organics. Killing all dissenters. The Functionalists even got pretty close to Megatron's ideal of peace through tyranny with 99% of the planet fitted with brain bombs and kissing the ground at their feet. They even managed to do it while maintaining a habitable planet and full population. And Megatron took one look and was disgusted.

Megatron wasn't a misunderstood revolutionist who had his heart in the right place when he started his war. The Decepticons didn't start out well-meaning and turned bad somewhere along the way. At no point in their movement were they ever true freedom fighters. They were always Facists, through and through. They were worse than the Functionalists they hated and the Senate they overthrew. And it's important to acknowledge this because (other than it's weird to see such an obvious Facist analogy being associated with freedom fighters) otherwise you don't get the whole depth of Megatron's redemption arc, especially in the Functionalist universe.

Like the impact of this scene wouldn't be fully apparant unless you take into account that when Megatron first formed the Decepticons, all he cared about was their fighting strength. He did not care about his troops, he did not care about individual people. He considered himself above everyone and everything. He would have sneered at such a weak, ineffective form of protest. Now he's actually being supportive and seeing people as people, instead of pawns to be used.

Here he's genuinely happy to see the Decepticons, even those in the very bottom of the pecking order, taking enough care to greet them each by name. And also Fulcrum, who he sentenced to death twice.

For once in his life he's actually trying to do the Right Thing instead of focusing on himself, either on his ambitions or his remorse. The people in the Functionalist universe have nothing to do with him, yet he wants to help anyway. And he's finally appreciating the value of self-determination for what it is, instead of trying to twist it to serve his own purposes or turn it into Megatron-determination.

"No one can decide how you live your life except for you." Back before, he was going to remodel his entire army to achieve his peace through tyranny. Autonomy and free will were considered things that won't be missed.

Megatron learned to care about other people! Peace through empathy is such a groundbreaking step for his character because he used to have no empathy! He stayed true to his ideals for eight centuries despite the hardships, despite his personal losses, despite the AVL being driven to near extinction and not knowing if he would ever return to his own universe. During all those years he could have had ten million chances and excuses to break his vow of pacifism or leave on the Last Light, taking the easy way out, and there would have been no one to stop him.

But he didn’t.

#transformers #idw transformers #maccadam #megatron #also he tossed his Decepticons out the back door at first chance in exchange for his freedom and legacy #the trial on Luna 2 #his frowny face when reading the surrender speech wasn’t for letting the Decepticons down it was for his own humiliation

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catfern · 7 months

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1 MILLION SUBSCRIBERS SPECIAL

pairing: ghost hunter!ellie x afab!reader (feminine pronouns used)

music: eyes without a face - billy idol

word count: 2.3k

summary: ghost hunter!ellie needs a new assistant to help film her 1 million subscribers special in a supposedly 'haunted house'. good thing you'll do anything she says.

warnings: SEXTAPE, oral (r!receiving) fingering (r!receiving), ghosts? spooky business, ellie is a shitty clickbait youtuber

an: heyyy this came to me in a dream. nothing much else to say. get ready to fuck dirty while ghosts watch idk. this is probably gonna be my only halloween fic while we're still in october. got some other ideas tho so get ready for a spooky november

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“come on! come on! it’ll be fun! something memorable on halloween.”

“jesus, ellie, you know I don’t believe in that shit.”

it’s a coy laugh. your fingers dance over your phone, unsure what to do. you didn’t believe her when she jumped and screamed, bolstering about her 1 millionth subscriber.

‘The Ghost Detective.’ her youtube profile was almost as shoddy as her Mr. Beast-esque clickbait video titles.

“then it doesn’t matter!” she had a hold on your forearm, intermittent squeezing begging you to fold, “please? the last girl I had thought her dead mom was talking to her and ran off.”

she had an almost pitiful look in her eyes, her eyebrows screwed together as she pleaded.

fucking hell. you were convinced if you hadn’t met ellie, hadn’t started falling behind her like an obedient dog, you’d actually submit most of your assignments on time.

“fine.”

it wasn’t that your tiny town was particularly superstitious, or religious, or any other ‘-itious’, but it was in unspoken agreement that there was something inexplicable here, on the hill that looked over the lights of the suburbs. a decaying prairie protrusion built god-knows-when, the moon shone high in its fullness through the rotting foundations, casting its shadows over the dead grass, falling at your feet with the cool of the wind.

the whisper in her voice ran up your spine, “gettin’ scared yet?”

ellie seemed all too giddy to be here, a wicked smile and a laugh in her throat. her hair was pulled back from her face, and you could lightly see the ghost of freckles across her cheek in the night.

“what? no, no. i’m just tired.”

“right,” she was poking fun, the words dripping from her lips like electricity. she dumped her arms-full of equipment in your arms with a huff, before digging around in her backpack. “here,” cold metal in your hand as she took back her stuff. redbull, “we’re gonna be here all night.”

you don’t know how she did it. even as a certified non-believer, the engulfing emptiness of the house, the darkness that settled in the cracks and corners caught up with you, something unsettling pricking the hairs on the back of your neck.

but here she was. she brought a lawn chair from home, said it was her dad’s. equipped with the built-in beer holder and everything, she was relaxed. her elbows settled on her knees, her hands fallen limp in the space between her legs. she had something in her eyes, a glint. something determined, charming as she stared you down. well, the camera.

but you were staring at her right back. memorising what little detail echoed through the lens of the shitty 2008 sony camcorder.

she said it was for the ‘found footage look’. you know it’s just because she’s broke.

“now, legend has it, ladies and gentlemen, that the last owners of this iconic hillside property were satan .. worshippers. and that this house, this very house that i’m sitting in right now, is actually an active portal. to. hell.”

you’ve gotta give it to her. she had a talent for drama.

“i’ll just point to you when i need you to do like, i dunno, a little camera pan or something, yeah?”

ellie was explaining it to you like you hadn’t just been at home binge-watching her channel for the past few days, meticulous research, you called it. to make sure you did a good job as her assistant. not like the blur of her messy hair and her face in the ghoulish green light of the night vision camera did anything to you.

you knew her video structure. front room first, then five minutes in a spooky hallway, then some time left to freak out in one of the bedrooms, find an old haunted toy that definitely wasn’t planted, and then a quick exit with a lot of swearing, screaming and camera shaking.

“right, you ready?”

you nod.

the front room was, unsurprisingly, boring, although ellie put on her best shiver-me-timbers face, as she calls it. something for the fans.

but when you got back into the hallway, something in the air had changed. you looked to ellie, and you couldn’t tell if what she felt was real, or fake. she just kept looking at you through the camera, the same dramatised ‘concern’ written all over her face.

everything ellie does is scripted. fake.

if there was something wrong, truly wrong, here, you would leave, right?

the feeling was violently oppressive, pushing down on you. run, run, run. a gush of something ran across the back of your neck.

“fuck! what was that? did you feel that?”

“hey, hey,” the sudden normalness of her voice felt misplaced, “just keep the camera on me, okay? eyes on me.”

you could barely see her fucking eyes. the imposing and suffocating darkness of the house seemed to wrap around you horribly tight, the only thing keeping you tethered to your sense of sanity was the sound of ellie’s breath, so close you could feel it wisp around your cheekbone, warm and inviting. the only comfort fighting the cold in the air.

slowly, your sight adjusts to the dark, and you could barely make out the outline of her face in the dim light of the moon. she was watching you, her eyes lidded, flickering over the shadow of your body. your own breath was quick, adrenaline laced, something sore and deep. you feel a slight graze against your arm and you jump, ellie catching your shoulders in her arms, pushing you upright,

“careful, it’s just me,”

there’s a closeness now, a beat. her grip is strong as it soothes the shaking, the fear, the absolute buzz that you’re convinced is the only thing keeping you alive. you quickly become obsessed with the design of her, you’ve never been this close. suddenly, you recognise the way her hair falls on her face, the look in her eyes, the shine as she looks at you. she clears her throat, and her hands drop, coarsely, from your shoulders,

“come on, you’re alright. let’s keep going.”

yeah, yeah. you fumble your hand back through the strap of the camera, a slight twitch in your hand as you press record,

“fucking hell,” her voice was raspy, deep, a soft but commanding whisper, “the spirits sure are stirred up here… i wonder what happened.”

stay close to me. it’s barely a breath, something not meant to be heard, but her voice is luring, and you nod.

your footsteps were a heavy echo against the aging wood floor, the creaks spreading through the house like a warning. to you, or to others, you don’t know.

the bedroom wasn’t far. you had to hike up a flight of decaying steps, but as ellie talked to the camera, she held a hand firm on your back. she wouldn’t let you fall.

the room obviously belonged to some kids, however long ago. abandoned toys and rotted posters littered the floor, and it almost felt painful to see the life that was once in this house. but why did they leave everything here? kids drawings, toys, a closet full of half-eaten, moth-ridden clothes.

what made them just get up and leave?

wind rattled against the window, it felt like it was rocking the house. something was uneasy here, unnerving. you tried to focus your thoughts on ellie, her dramatic storytelling and perfectly practiced ‘scared’ body language, but there was something here. and it was watching.

one final gust of wind surged against the rocky foundations of the house, and the closet doors flung open, an old wooden puppet flying out to your feet.

you were never a screamer, never. which is why, when you heard a blood-curdling shriek rush through the house, it felt like an out of body experience. something foreign. you fell back and tripped over your own feet, desperate to put as much distance between you and whatever was in this house as possible.

luckily, ellie’s fear is fabricated. she’s quick to respond, stepping in to steady you with kind hands and a charming smile. your heart rate was so intense, it rocked the both of you, chest to back, intertwined something fierce. your breath settles against her chest, and you meet her eye,

“thought you didn’t get scared,” she was being a tease. her hands ghosting over your body gently, carefully, thinly veiled under the guise of simply holding you, caring for you, she was keeping you safe. it was a little self-indulgent.

“i’m not,” you steel yourself, stubborn girl, although a soft laugh bubbles in your throat. there’s something unreal about the steady feeling of ellie’s hands, the roughness of her palms pushing through your clothing. you turn, and she’s smiling, the glint of her teeth in the soft light, mischief an echo on her face. her voice was low as she leaned in, tickles of her hair just brushing the apple of your cheekbone,

“really, baby? i don’t think you would even still be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“you think i’m here for you?” she’s so close you can feel your breath swirl with hers, heat brushing down your jaw and dripping onto your neck. her grip on your waist anchors, and you feel her settle in the crooks of your body, the corners of your skin, like she’s home. she’s looking at you, something jokingly fierce, but unsure, and her gaze falls on your lips,

“mhm,”

you’d think she’d been starved. restless, choked breaths fall between you in gaps as she pulls you in, heavy, her lips on yours in fervour. her hands are everywhere, tracing themselves in your hair, down your neck, feeling their way blindly along the softness of your skin. god.

her lips draw from yours, dragging a mix of spit and lip gloss down your chin, along the ridge of your neck, a trail glistening in the edging darkness.

“fuck, ellie.”

you barely register the weight lifting from your hand, only a visceral whine as she pulls from you, walking a safe distance to gently place the camera down, out of the way.

ellie finds herself back in the crook of her neck, dragging your skin through her teeth, soft groans rumbling from her throat as her hands pull their way down to the waistband of your skirt,

a skirt? really?

had you planned this?

“come on, sweetheart,” she’s barely audible against your skin, vibrations dripping down your torso as her hands dive under your shirt, lifting it to bounce above your tits, “that’s it.”

her palm cups the base of your tit, dragging soft moans from your pretty lips as she squeezes.

under her breath, she’s praying. vulgar, tenacious, she can’t control herself, lost in the dream of your body as she presses you against a wall she hopes won’t collapse.

fuck-god, fuck, jesus, baby.

if you’re who she’s praying to, it falls on deaf ears. you’re no god, you can’t help her, but fuck, she feels like she could worship you. properly, forever, falling to her knees and cupping her palms behind your thighs, it’s like she’s pleading,

“can i?” she’s soft, her cheek resting on the inside of your thigh, you’re her altar, “god, say yes.”

her nose just graces the wetness of your underwear and you flinch, “yes! ellie, f-fuck-please.”

she loops her pointer fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your thighs, almost too rough. she loses herself in the heat, the slick dripping from your pussy.

heat poured over your body like molten gold, the feeling of her tongue inside you, raw, animalistic, sending pulses sliding up the ridges of your skin. she hums against your clit, her hand coming down to pull your velvet slick from the rim of her lips.

you convulse, clenching around the encroaching absence of a feeling, of something you didn’t know you needed.

her.

“fucking hell, sweet girl,” deep, ragged breaths shadow your thighs. she needs air, but its not like she wants it. fuck, she wants you, she needs you. your taste on her tongue is metallic, a memory she’s chasing like a quick withdrawal. her tongue finds your clit and presses, a murmur leaving her drowning lips and echoing through your veins as you moan, desperation clawing through your hands and in ellie’s hair, binding.

“please, el-f-shit, i need you. i need to feel you, fuck!”

you didn’t need to ask twice.

fuck, you wrapped around her like you were made for her, godsent, a gift for her devotion. she stretched you, opening you with her fingers and you nearly melted, ellie’s arm wrapped around your thigh the only stability offered for your spent body. your head threw back, digging into the old, rotting wood of the wall, and if ellie looked up, pulled away from her firm spot between your legs, she would have seen you and completely unravelled.

she wasn’t gentle, the way her fingers moved inside you. desperate and completely unforgiving, she needed everything that you were willing to give her, her pace rough, fast, world-destroying.

and there she was, a lazy grin bearing her teeth against your clit, pussydrunk and delirious, tasting you and content enough to die.

she supposed she wouldn’t mind haunting this house, if you came to visit her.

low warbles against your cunt, you couldn’t hear her, even if you were listening. drowning in the push and pull of her touch, in the warmth of her, your head felt like molasses, your body something soft, mouldable to her design. ellie laughed against your walls, sweet and desiring, and you collapsed.

your vision bleary, you could just feel the tips of ellie’s fingers brushing through your hair, smoothing your slick across your skin. your head fell against hers, and you could just make out something blinking in the foggy distance,

the camera,

“hey, el,”

she sighed, heat in the crook of your neck, “yeah?”

“does the red light mean it’s on?”

A few days later, the thoughts of ghosthunting weighing heavy on your mind, ellie texts you,

thought you might want a copy <3

my subscribers will love you

attachment: hauntedhouse.mov

taglist; @whore4abby

dm me to join my sad lil list <3

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou

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marvelobsessed134 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober day 8: Overstimulation with Kate Bishop

A/n: catching up on all the kinktober fics! They might be a bit short but at least they’re something.

Pairings: Best friend!Kate Bishop x Fem!Virgin!reader

Warnings: overstimulation (for a virgin at least), vibrator use, kind of pervy!kate, dom!kate, sub!reader, embarrassed!reader, praise kink, and I think that’s it.

Summary: your friend finds something rather interesting while she’s snooping around in your room.

Kate’s always been…nosy. It’s just in her nature to snoop. Ever since she was a kid when she’d go to friends houses, she’d wait for them to leave for a minute so she could dig through their stuff. Sometimes she got caught, sometimes she didn’t.

This time, Kate was snooping in your room. The two of you have been best friends since highschool, both coming from rich families therefore going to the same high end school.

Not that the two of you acted like it anyway. You guys always act like fools. And that’s the fun thing.

The archer waited for you to go use the bathroom before immediately heading towards the small jewelry box you had on your dresser. She’s curious on what you’re hiding inside.

She opened it and started digging through the pretty necklaces and bracelets before stumbling upon something that really peaked her interest.

A small bullet vibrator. She smirked and felt herself throbbing as she thought about you using the toy. You aren’t very open about your sex life, she only found out you were a virgin two weeks ago when it spilled out of your mouth because you were playing truth or drink and was already so drunk. The brunette has always had a crush on you. And she’s been fantasizing about all the things she wants to do to you.

“Kate, I’m ba-“ you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw what she was holding up. Your face immediately turned red, your facial expression mortified.

Your best friend turned to you with a calm smile, “What’s this little contraption doing in here? Kind of unsanitary if you ask me.”

“I- um- I- it’s a- uh-“

“Vibrator.” She finished for you and you nodded.

“Have you ever used it?” Kate asked calmly like it was the most normal thing in the world. You didn’t respond which prompted her to walk over to you and lightly grip your jaw.

“I asked you a question.”

The authority she had over you and the tone of her voice made you weak in the knees. Your face now bright red, you responded, “Yeah but- I’ve never cum. I- I always stop because it feels overwhelming.”

Her lips pouted in sympathy, “poor thing, you’ve never experienced the pleasure that is an orgasm? Don’t worry. I can show you if you’d like.”

You don’t know how you decided to nod your head and before you knew it, her lips were on yours. You kissed her back, having already known how to kiss someone, you’re a virgin, not stupid.

“Come and lie down here baby.” The archer said sweetly. You laid down on your bed, and watched as she positioned herself between your legs before pulling your jeans and panties down.

“Already so wet?” She teased before powering on the vibrator and slowly pressing it to your clit. Your mouth opened wide and you couldn’t help but scream.

She rubbed it up and down and between your folds. She rubbed it in deep circles on your sensitive bud.

“Oh god ah!” You screamed.

“So sensitive. Though that makes sense since you’ve never been fucked before.”

You squirmed underneath her as she continued her assault on your pussy.

“Ohhhh no Kate stop! Stop! It’s too much. Too much! I can’t take it! Ahhh!!!”

“Shh, you can take it it’s ok. Come on baby it’s gonna feel so good.” Her words soothed you and she rubbed it faster and harder on your clit. You felt that itchy, overwhelming sensation that both felt so good and so overstimulating.

You brain was getting fuzzy, you felt goosebumps arise on your skin.

“Katieeeee!”

“Good girl come on you can do it. Just take it ok sweet girl?”

Your eyes were shut tightly as you gripped the sheets. “Oh fuck! Oh, oh, oh….!!!!”

You felt like you were going to explode, and just like that you released all your sweet juices. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh my god.” You sighed.

Kate took some of your cum with her fingers and sucked them into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, I knew you tasted good.”

#marvel x reader #marvel #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop smut #kinktober #marvel smut #top!kate bishop #smutty fanfic

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 1

Just dipping my toe into the shovel talks trend.

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around and Jonathan frowned. Steve’s eyes were puffy and his nose was red. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up?”

Jonathan could tell he was trying not to wipe the obvious tears from his face. As if that wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“I wanted to talk to you about you and Eddie’s relationship--”

Steve crumpled. That was the only way to describe it. The man was barely holding it together as it was, but it seemed that that was straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Look, I get it,” Steve snapped. “Don’t break Eddie’s heart. It sooo soft and I’m suuuuch a bitch. I don’t need the shovel talk from you.” The last word was said with such venom, Jonathan was forced to take a step back.

“Who’s been giving you shovel talks?” he asked.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “It would be easier to list off who hasn’t. The Byers family and El, only I can’t say that because you’re here. So just Will, your mom, and El.”

Jonathan frowned. “Even Robin?” Because that didn’t sound right. He had seen the two of them together and they were like freakishly close.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve snarled bitterly. “That’s the latest one. The one that makes me just want to throw myself into the god damn pool.”

Well, shit.

“Apparently this is Eddie first real relationship and since being gay is so hard right now, breaking his heart would be a disservice to humankind,” Steve mocked. “I asked her about my heart and my first relationship with a guy. But apparently that is as important as Eddie’s experience.”

Now that? Jonathan didn’t believe. But Steve was clearly hurt and was being dramatic about it. Which he was going to allow because holy shit.

But apparently Steve was just getting started. “At least Eddie’s friends all showed up together to give one shovel talk so that was nice. Hop and Wayne each did it while cleaning their hunting rifles, like they weren’t terrifying enough. I mean Mike’s an ass, so his I could brush off, but Dustin and Erica? Why does Eddie get more loyalty from them when I literally saved their lives? But Lucas and Max also double teamed me, so that was all sorts of fun. Nancy casually brought up that she has three guns now. So yeah, just get it over with so I can go back to being the worst boyfriend in Hawkins!”

Jonathan forced him to sit down. “That was a lot to unpack, I’m not going to lie. But take a deep breath for me, can you do that?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath.

“Now let it out slow,“ Jonathan continued. Steve followed his instruction. “Great now keep doing that until your heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.”

Steve started breathing more normally and Jonathan sat next to him. “I’m not actually here for a shovel talk. I was wondering if you or Eddie would be willing to talk to Will about liking boys.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s going through a really hard time with it right now,” Jonathan explained. “And I’m not really getting through to him because I’m straight and it’s pretty much meaningless coming from me.”

“Oh.”

“But no, I get your reaction, dude,” he said. “I really do. Has anyone given Eddie the shovel talk?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I can ask, is it? ‘Oh hey, Eddie, anyone threaten your life over our relationship lately. No, no, not homophobes, I mean our friends? No? Well that’s just peachy!’“

Jonathan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no matter how you phrase that it’s going to come off as bitchy. Especially if no one has.”

Steve nodded.

“Look, if you talk to Will for me,” Jonathan said, “I’ll talk to Eddie. Deal?”

Steve looked at the hand for a moment before he shook it. “Deal.”

Jonathan knocked on the Munson’s door. Eddie opened it with a look of surprise.

“Look, man,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I don’t sell anymore. And besides your friend from Cali has better stuff.”

Jonathan held up his prized. “Oh, I’m aware, I’m offering to share.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then closed the door behind him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jonathan lit two blunts and passed one to Eddie.

Eddie took a drag and sighed. “Shit this stuff is good.”

Jonathan just smiled.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the share, man,” Eddie said after a few minutes, “but why are you here?”

“I went over to Steve’s to ask him if he would be willing to talk to Will for me,” he said after taking a drag.

“Because your brother is gayer then the May pole?” Eddie supplied.

“Yup,” he replied. “Only our Stevie wasn’t doing so good.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “What?!”

Jonathan tugged on his pant leg. “Sit down, dude. Let me explain before you go off half cocked and make things worse.”

Eddie sat down with a grumble. “You better start talking and you better do it fast.”

“In my experience shovel talks are for people you don’t trust not for people you care about,” Jonathan said slowly. “Only it seems our friends didn’t get the memo.”

“People have been giving Steve the shovel talk?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, jutting his chin forward in shock. “But no one’s said shit to me!”

Jonathan winced. “That’s kinda what me and Steve were afraid of.”

Eddie felt his heart sink to his stomach. “Do you--did he say how long it’s been going on?”

Jonathan shook his head. “But the fact that only my house and El haven’t given him the shovel talk I would probably bet since you two announced your relationship.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered. “I bet the first two were funny, endearing even. Steve likes that kind of stuff. And then as it kept happening...”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Has he been distant lately?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded. “Now I know why.” He thought for a moment. “Is there a way to call everyone together without alerting Steve, too?”

Jonathan shrugged. “If his boyfriend were to ‘accidentally’ turn off the walkie for an hour for some hot makeup sex...”

Eddie laughed. “I can absolutely do that.”

“I’ll set it up,” Jonathan said. He flicked the remainder of his blunt to the ground and stood up to grind it out under his boot.

Dang it, this was getting longer than I planned, but I’ll put out a part two later.

Edit: and it’s later! And part three! Part four and Part FIVE! Part Six!!!

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #jonathan and steve are friends

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spenglersweetheart · 1 month

Note

Yk the scene where Peter asks Egon how’s school

That but this time the reader has like flashbacks to the night before of her and Egon hehehe

ooooh i can do this 👀 teehee

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

( note : i will keep using this gif whenever i get an epididymis related one 🤭 )

The Night Before

Egon Spengler x Reader

WARNINGS : NSFW STUFF ‼️

( another note [a during the writing process note, if that makes sense] : the reader will still be gender neutral but with female anatomy for this bc i genuinely do not know how to write smut without any of the anatomy so ... )

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU'RE ORGANIZING ONE OF RAY'S BOOKSHELVES when you hear the bell to the door ring. It signals that someone has entered the store. You manage to take a quick glance, and when you see that it's only Peter, you go back to what you're doing. Although you are focused on what you're doing, your ears can't help to perk up when you hear him and Egon having a conversation.

"Hi Egon, how's school?" Peter says, "I bet those science chicks really dig that big cranium of yours, huh?"

"I think they're more interested in my epididymis," you hear Egon say.

You overhear that, and suddenly a light blush appears onto your face. You almost feel weak to your knees. You felt the way that you did the night before, and your mind couldn't help but wander to what happened.

Suddenly you could feel his hands all over you all over again. One hand gripped tightly on each thigh, kissing your neck and collarbone. Your whimpers echo through the empty bedroom of the Firehouse. You remember the smug grin on his face as he sees you squirm into place on his bed.

" Shhh ... " You hear Egon in the midst of your own whines and whimpers, "The others are still downstairs. Wouldn't want them to hear, now would you?"

You slightly shook your head. The others hadn't known about you and Egon's little relationship. It was a secret, only until you two were ready to tell. But the risk of getting caught had been so much fun.

"E-Egon. . . Fuck──" You manage to moan out, being as quiet as you can. It was just so hard not to be. He does it so well.

You can already feel your walls clench. You were holding onto him like you were a koala, hands slightly gripped onto his back as he kept up with his movements, hitting your spot each time.

" That's it, sweetheart, cum for me," he whispers into your ear.

You couldn't even hear anything. You weren't even paying attention. When Ray tapped you on your shoulder, you yelped, dropping the books that you had in your hands from the moment you froze.

"Y / N? You had been standing there for a minute are you okay?"

Your face was beet red. This was so embarrassing. You quickly pick up the books after giving a nod. "Yep! Yeah! Totally, I am A-Okay!"

"Your face is red, are you catching a fever?"

"Ray, I'm alright," you answer, "I promise. It's just ... Really hot in here."

Ray gives a nod. "Well, you can take a breather. It's about time you took a break from organizing those books," he says.

You immediately nod, walking past Ray, Peter, and then as you go to pass Egon, you stop. Your eyes glance up at him. He's giving you that same smug smirk that he gave you last night. Your face turns red again, and you grumble, going outside into the slightly crisp air.

Not too long after Egon steps outside. You look at him, crossing your arms. "Don't you start."

"I only came to check on you," he said, "Seeing how you're feeling. To see what you're ... thinking about."

He then walks up closer to you. You try to hide what you're thinking about, but it's Egon Spengler. He could read you from a mile away.

"Thinking about my epididymis, are you?"

You face him, playfully pushing him as your face turns red once again. "Oh, shut up," You mumble in embarrassment.

─────────────── ✦ ──────────────

── ♡ ( AUTHOR'S NOTE! ) :

i need to work on my nsfw writing skills this is getting embarrassing.

#ghostbusters #egon spengler x reader #egon x reader #spence's small fics #egonspenglerishot

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ms-demeanor · 5 months

Note

sorry if you've answered this before, and i hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know so much about computers and what seems to me like everything in the world? how did you become so knowledgeable? it's amazing

i just know a little about a lot of things and I probably have a fair number of things that I've dug into more than most people and less than people who actually focus on that stuff! It's kind of an illusion!

I do know a lot about computers and that's because I've worked at a computer company for 12 years and have been deep into a computery subculture for about 20 years - I do genuinely know a lot about consumer computers. That I'll own and that's experience.

I know a fair amount about literature because I've got a degree in it!

I know a fair amount about journalism because I've got most of a degree in it and I worked with journalists for a long time!

I know a fair amount about nutrition because I've got most of a degree in it and because I've been focused on reading a lot about nutrition for more than a decade because of my own food issues!

But mostly I'm just someone who falls down rabbitholes and has a decent ability to recall what I find when I run down them.

Also I get curious about things and will just go. Experience them.

Like at some point i came across a site for people who own and use RealDolls and I got interested in learning more. The site required an application because they didn't want people just trolling so I applied and I ended up reading through the whole site and reading the magazines they sent out for years after because it was just interesting. The way these guys bought clothes or compared repair techniques and cleaning techniques, the way they constructed identities for their dolls - it was all interesting! So now I know about the proper way to store a RealDoll and how their skeletons are put together and the best way to prevent rips or clean inserts.

Now imagine that with everything.

I got interested in quack medicine so I ended up reading the entire back catalogs of quackwatch and science-based medicine.

I got interested in the history of aspartame as a scare-word and I ended up reading a couple of books, SEVERAL entire blogs with decades-long runs, purchasing a military magazine from the 90s, and submitting a FOIA request.

But, like. I don't own a RealDoll or work in that industry. I am not a medical professional. I am not a chemist who works with aspartame. So I get these weird little collections of information where I know what *seems* like a lot to someone who hasn't looked into it but I know a lot less than someone who has taken the time to actually dedicate themselves to that topic.

And sometimes it's a years-long dive and sometimes it's a months-long dive and sometimes it's a few hours of me digging online until I feel satisfied with what I've learned and I never come back to it, but I've got three more talking points than your average joe at a party would.

(Also though I've attended various colleges at various levels for ten-ish years now and I've taken probably more college-level classes on a lot of subjects than most people have because I've now spent several years just kind of kicking around at community colleges and deciding that a cartooning class sounds fun or that a mesoamerican art class fills certain transfer requirements or that I might as well brush up on spanish, french, and german. Access to low-cost college classes in california is a big part of this, and having the time and money to take classes while i'm working is something that I've been very lucky with)

I've also worked pretty much continuously since I was 18, sometimes holding multiple jobs at once, and I know a lot of interesting people who do a lot of interesting things and I ask them about their interesting experiences and if they offer me a chance to go do cool shit with them, like launch a high altitude balloon or blow up some dynamite that's about to expire or join a band, I do it!

I was also one of those kids who had no friends and spent too much time at the library so I'd do things like read through medical textbooks or pull a book of home chemical formulas out of the trash and read it or take it into my head that I was going to read all of Shakespeare before I got to high school so I was a really annoying twelve-year-old and that kind of thing never really let up.

I don't know! I don't think it's that unusual and I think most people do this kind of thing I just happen to have less focus than a lot of people and talk a lot more.

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juiles · 10 months

Text

All to well

Plot: idk. have fun!

Type: angst and fluff

Warnings: i am in no way saying that this is how all autistic people are!! This fic is based off my PERSONAL experience with autism and sensory overload. Please remember this as you read!!

Masterlist here!

Request here!

————————————————————————-

Being autistic has drawbacks for a normal person, but for an actress in Marvel movies, it was tough. I’m proud of who I am but I didn’t want the pitying looks, the comments or being stuck as only getting the “autistic” role so for my own sake, I’m not super open about it.

My parents are ashamed of it so they never told anyone and I was forced to mask anytime I was around anyone. Not even Scar knew, and she was my best friend, almost a mother figure to me. I didn’t want her to think any different of me. She’s known me since i was 7 and played her on screen adopted daughter in Iron Man 2.

We’re filming Endgame right now. I’m on my way to set with Scarlett. Today has been a rough day for me so far as my parents woke me up by screaming at me which then caused me to struggle in keeping my mask up. Scar picked me up and I’m already exhausted, I’ve caught myself stimming a few times and quickly stopped it.

When we pulled into the parking lot, i grabbed my bag and walked with her through set to our trailers where we left our stuff and we’re immediately shuffled to makeup and costumes.

“Oh shit…” I mutter staring at the costume in Erica’s hand. “I didn’t realize it was a fight scene today…”

“Babe.” Erica, my assistant and on set guardian says. She’s known about me since the first day which was when i was 7. “You’ve known about this for a week. Are you okay?”

“I’m super over stimulated right now…” I murmur tapping my leg in sets of 7, a common stim for me.

“Let’s do hair and makeup first okay? Keep you out of the costume until the last second okay?” I nod and the two of us move to hair and makeup where Scarlett is getting her hair done.

“Hey, where’s your costume kid?” She asks looking over at me.

“I uh-“ I glance at Erica who steps in for me quickly.

“It had a small tear in it so it’s getting fixed quickly.” Scarlet merely hums in response and I sit. Getting my wig on and makeup done is awful, having everyone touching me and all their voices so close to me ears. I feel a soft hand on my cheek and peek my eyes open to see Scar staring at me in concern.

“Stop grinding your jaw babe…” I release my jaw, not even realizing i had been doing it. “You okay love? You disappeared for a bit there.” I respond with a hum, my voice disappearing from within. “Let’s get your costume on and to set okay?”

I look around quickly and don’t see Erica, Scarlet must see the panic as she quickly says. “She got called away in an emergency. I’m going to be your guardian today.” I nod, feeling the panic bubble up in my chest, but give her a soft smile.

The two of us make our way to my trailer and she helps me quickly slip into the suit. I immediately want to rip it off as it’s skin tight and an uncomfortable material. It feels like it’s digging into my skin and pulling it away as if it’s velcro and my skin is the other side. I take a deep breath and come out to see Scar in costume waiting. “Ready?” I nod and we head to set where I realize it’s a busy day, all original 6 avengers, Lizzie, both Paul’s, Gwen and Cobie are all there. I internally groan as immediately, the girls are coming over to me and Scar talking a mile a minute. I stand next to Scarlett silently until Lizzie turns to me. “Hey kiddo. Ready to fight? We have to fly today.” My eyes widen for a moment before i force a smile and nod at the fake red head in front of me.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” This makes everyone around us laugh but it makes me feel awful. I have no voice, it comes and goes, when it’s gone, my parents ridicule me, I get hit. I look down as i feel my tears well up in my eyes and blink rapidly trying to will them away. I thank god silently when Joe calls us to places which means i get away from the now very suddenly concerned looking Scarlett, Lizzie and Cobie. I’m stuck with Renner as I get rigged up, the feeling of being sick suddenly appearing as more people touch me.

I feel the lump in my throat tighten and the feeling of the harness wrapped around me suddenly makes me feel like it’s constricting my breathing and everyone around me disappeared as my hands flung to the harness, in my panic my hands struggled with the buckle which just made me more infuriated and grunts started coming out as my tears blurred my vision.

I feel a set of hands on mine holding them down, i scream and rip mine away and start scratching at my throat trying to rip it open to get a breath. My eyes started blacking out and the last thing i see is Scarlett’s panicked face as she tries to grab at my hands before it all goes black.

Scarlett’s POV

I know something is off with y/n. Not off but just that she was different. I have had a feeling it was autism for a while now, today proved that to me.

She was silent the whole car ride to set, normally she’d be singing along the radio but she wouldn’t even let me turn it on today. As soon as we got to set she locked herself in her trailer without a word, the next time i saw her, she looked panicked and while she was getting her hair and makeup done she disappeared fully before i brought her back. She has days where she goes mute, she just calls them her bad days, they usually happen on days she has arguments with her parents but normally she can still communicate to me in different ways but today she was completely gone. It got worse as soon as she realized Erica was gone. Walking on to set, she tended up and i saw her tapping her thigh every once in a while. The comment that Lizzie made would normally make her laugh, her reaction today was off.

I watched her from the corner of my eye but had to look away for a second before i heard Renner.

“Y/N!! What are you doing?! You’re going to hurt yourself!” I whip my head around and my heart sinks as i see y/n struggling with her harness, her hands are shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, her eyes are glazed over. I bolt over and grab her hands gently.

“Y/n baby, stop. You’ve got to stop my love.” She rips her hands out of mine and starts clawing at her throat which is when i notice she’s not breathing properly. She’s barely able to get a small breath. Instincts kick in for me and i turn to the cast and crew crowding her. “Give her space. Now. I need someone to set up a dark room with minimal sound and her clothes she was wearing this morning as well as the blanket from my trailer. A cold cloth and her wig taken off.” I turn around as she starts to collapse, i grab her arm and quickly wrap an arm around her waist. “Now!”

It’s a bit of a blur after that honestly, the next thing i know, im alone with her in the green room after everything is unplugged and blankets are draped over the windows. Her wig is already off and someone hands me my blanket and her clothes before silently leaving. I help her unconscious body out of the suit and into her clothes before draping my weighted blanket over her body. I sit back and stare at her, not touching her at all but close enough if she needs me.

It felt like hours but looking at my watch, it shows it’s only been 20 minutes when she finally wakes up.

My heart is beating what feels like a million mile a minute with panic as i watch her blue eyes flutter open before she looks around the room for a moment. Her hand comes out of the blanket and she starts tapping her thigh again, her head nodding along to each tap. She squeezes her eyes shut and i can hear her voice mumbling. “I’m safe. I’m here. I’m y/n.” Over and over again, i quietly cough to get her attention and she quickly sits up and her head whips up to look at me with wide eyes, both hands start scratching at the other wrist. “Oh my god…”

“Baby, you are safe. It’s just me.”

“No… no… no no no no no no no no.” She started tugging her hair and rocking slightly. “They’re going to kill me… you aren’t supposed to know…”

I quickly scoot over and grab her hands before pulling her into my chest, she tenses for a moment before melting into my arms. “I can’t hide it anymore Scar…”

“I know baby… I know.” I mutter into her hair swaying us back and forth slightly.

“I’m autistic…”

“Oh baby i know…” She freezes and looks at me with wide eyes. I can ready the fear in her blue eyes. “You hide it really really well but I’m basically your mom my love. I had suspicions but didn’t want to push you into telling me. Today was too much.” She nods burying herself back into me. “I need you to know that I will always listen to you. That if you ever feel like that again, you can tell me and i’ll get you out of it. Baby seeing you pass out was terrifying. I need you to know that if you’re that overwhelmed, that you do not have to do all that.”

“But… my parents don’t want everyone knowing… they’re all gonna know now…” She mumbles into me, my heart cracks.

“Baby being autistic is not a bad thing. It makes you even more amazing. It’s not something to be ashamed of at all. You are allowed to be who you are. To stim when your emotions are too high. To have bad days. I am here to show you that.” I say looking her directly into her eyes. “I’m here to support you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded quickly. She sat up and started tapping her thigh as she stared at me. “This is my favourite stim, it’s really subtle but it calms me down… i count the most important people in my life.” She then looks down at her hand as she taps each finger. “Scarlett.” Tap. “Lizzie.” Tap. “Renner.” Tap. “Gwen.” Tap. “Cobie.” Tap. “Rob.” Tap. “Rosie.” Tap. “It reminds me that you guys would love me, no matter how broken or weird i am because i know how much you care.” She looked up at me through her eyelashes. “Another one is tapping here.” She taps her chest right above her heart twice. “Right here.” She does the tap to each word. “This is where you sit in my body. I usually only do this one when I’m not wearing my necklace. Playing with that is the stim i can do out in public.” I pulled her into my arms again as I cried.

“Oh baby…”

“You’ve always been my safe space Scar…”

“And i will be your safe space for the rest of eternity.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes before she pulls away with a smile. “Thank you. For learning how to help me.”

“You are more than welcome my love. Let’s go home and have a calm day okay?” She nods before standing up, pulling my weighted blanket over herself. I stand and wrapping my arms around her waist, the two of us make our way out of the room to find Lizzie standing not too far away, crying into Gwyneths arms. Y/n instantly runs over to her and wraps her arms around the crying woman. Lizzie jumps before she turns and sees who it is and wraps the girl into her arms.

“I’m so sorry bug. I shouldn’t have made that comment. I know how bad your parents are.” Y/n shakes her head pulling back and squeezes Lizzie’s hands. “Liz that wasn’t what caused that.” She takes a glance back at me before taking a deep breath and looks back at Lizzie. “I’m autistic and I was overstimulated and everything was just too much. I won’t lie, the comment did hurt a little but i know you didn’t say it in a mean way. You didn’t hurt me, memories of my parents saying stuff hurt me. But not you.” Lizzie’s eyes widen and she glances at me before she nods breathing to calm herself down. “If you ever need to talk or are struggling you can talk to me bug.”

Y/n nods with a small smile. “I know Liz.”

“Hey. Me too.” We all turn our head to see Gwyneth with a pout on her face. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo. Never do that again. Understand?” She pulls y/n’s laughing form into her arms.

“I understand mother Paltrow.” She says making us all chuckle.

Y/n pulls away and biting her cheek looks at me. “I- i uh- I’m not ready to face everyone else yet…”

“They already left bug. It’s just us four left.” Lizzie said smoothing the crazy hair down on y/n’s head. “I couldn’t leave worried i hurt you and Gwyn couldn’t leave me alone but everyone else left to give you privacy. Scarlett went full mama bear mode and screamed at some people for trying to push her into anything. It was great.” Y/n chuckled, which brings a grin to my face.

“Of course you did. But i wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

“I love you too baby.” I say kissing her head softly.

472 notes · View notes

peachdues · 11 months

Text

Seasons in Love (modern college AU: Part 1/2)

Sanemi meets Y/N in January and isn't a fan. As the seasons pass by, their evolving relationship becomes defined by a handful snapshots from the various holidays throughout the year.

A/N: part 1/2 of my college-AU fic to fulfill @shiverisms request for tooth-rotting Sanemi fluff. Part 1 covers January, the Spring and Summer festivals, Halloween and the week leading into finals in December. Part 2 will cover Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. This is unlike anything I’ve really written before, so sorry if it drags!!

CW: swearing, some suggestive stuff but nothing too bad. College-typical drinking and debauchery.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

January 2nd – first day of the spring semester

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated many things. He hated the cold, because wearing too many layers made him feel like he was suffocating. He hated when the store was out of his favorite brand of dried seaweed. He hated whenever he saw that asshole, Douma, simpering his way across campus with a gaggle of unwitting freshmen trailing helplessly behind him.

But most of all, he hated change.

So, when Shinobu brought along a new face to their first family dinner of the new year, he’s not happy.

And initially, he felt vindicated by his reticence to welcome her as warmly into their friend group as some of the others, because, despite his friends’ kindness, she’d failed to even muster a grateful smile for her hosts.

Not once, during the entire affair, did the girl – Y/N -- so much as twitch her lips upwards; not when she met any of his friends, and certainly not at any of the jokes or fun they’d had.

It’s not that she’d been sullen and withdrawn — she’d participated in conversation just fine. But that bland stoicism on her face had really gotten under his skin, because it reminds him of Giyuu, and they’ve already got one of those.

Sanemi told Shinobu as much later that night as he kicked back in her worn, mismatched kitchen chair while the pharmacology student idly flipped through her biochemistry textbook.

“I’ll ignore the dig at Giyuu for now,” Shinobu said lightly, though her eyes flickered briefly up to his in warning, “but I would think you of all people would have a bit of compassion toward her, Sanemi.”

Sanemi reached out to snatch an apple from the little fruit bowl that Shinobu has on her kitchen table, taking a crude chomp out of it. “Why?” He asked, voice garbled by his thick mouthful.

Shinobu shot him a fleeting look of disgust at his lack of etiquette. “Do you remember that girl I was paired with in my mental health law seminar last semester? The one who dropped out of our final project last minute?”

Sanemi swallowed his mouthful of apple. “Yeah. You were pissed.”

And she had been. Shinobu had been stuck with doing the other half of an entire presentation just two days before it was due, and it had been on statutory interpretation which had not been Shinobu’s strongest area.

Shinobu’s scowled. “That’s because I didn’t know the reason,” she reached for a highlighter to mark text on the page open before her.

“Her little brother died. Cancer. He was only eleven.”

In one breath, all his prior irritation with the girl’s presence is extinguished within him.

Now, Sanemi felt like an asshole.

Because if anyone understood what it felt like to lose a loved one — especially one as young as eleven — it would’ve been him.

“Fuck,” Sanemi exhaled, apple falling to the table, forgotten. Absentmindedly, he reached his hand to rub at his chest, just over the jagged scar beneath his shirt that was one of the many souvenirs from the car wreck that had managed to kill everyone in his family but him.

That had been nine years ago — when Sanemi had barely been twelve.

He certainly hadn’t felt like smiling much after that, either. Truthfully, he’d probably be in far worse shape now had it not been for the people clustered in Shinobu’s and Mitsuri’s tiny apartment.

“She also got cheated on last semester,” Shinobu added after a moment.

Sanemi sighed heavily, feeling even worse. The poor girl had gone through what was arguably the worst semester, and he’d chapped her ass over not smiling.

“I didn’t know that — by who?” Tengen emerged from the adjacent living room, breezing by the table and into the kitchen to help himself to whatever was in the girls’ fridge.

Shinobu’s eyes hardened. “Douma,” her tone was poisonous.

Both Sanemi and Tengen groaned in unison.

“She deserves financial compensation for that one,” Sanemi muttered darkly, motioning for Tengen to toss him a beer. The sleazy, lazy, and arrogant student body President had earned the reputation of being a serial cheater around campus. Shinobu briefly had a fling with him their first year that she’d ended after only a few weeks, once it became all too clear that he was a master manipulator.

And, as Shinobu had referred to him, an utter man-whore.

Tengen padded out from the kitchen, beers in hand. “That explains why she doesn’t really have a friend group anymore, then.” He quipped, handing the extra beer to Sanemi before plopping down next to him at the table.

Shinobu hummed in agreement, hand seamlessly moving across the glossy page of her textbook as she made a small, precise note. “You know how Douma is — first he fucks you, and then he fucks you.”

Sanemi snorted, shaking his head. “So that’s why you feel so protective of her, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow. “You know what she’s going through.”

Shinobu shrugged him off. “Maybe; but so do you.” She said pointedly, hand flipping her textbook shut. “So maybe just try to be nice?”

“When the fuck am I not nice?” Sanemi demanded indignantly, and Shinobu shot him such a pitiful look that he felt his cheeks heat.

Tengen just laughed. “I think the real question is when are you ever?”

Sanemi glared at his loud-mouthed friend, but before he could respond with a snappy retort, Shinobu spoke.

“I’m not saying you have to be a saint, but I want Y/N to feel like she at least has some support here,” her tone was light but it carried that signature soft threat she used whenever she meant business. “so promise me you’ll at least try to get to know her.”

Sanemi groaned but acquiesced. “All right, all right,” he’d muttered, reaching back for his earlier-discarded apple. “I promise.”

------------------------------------------------------

March 23rd – Spring Festival

As winter melted way into spring and the cherry blossom buds had begun to bloom, so did Sanemi’s friendship with Y/N.

He promised Shinobu that he would try to make the girl feel part of their group, and Sanemi is a man true to his word – but in retrospect, he hadn’t expected it to be this easy to become friends with her.

It started when they realized they shared three out of their four classes together. Sanemi walked into his first seminar at the crack-ass of eight in the morning on the first day of spring classes when he’d spotted her sitting in the second row from the front. Sanemi didn’t like most of the other people in his class, so sitting beside her had seemed like a no-brainer.

It had been the best decision he could have made. Y/N was smart as a whip, and often went toe-to-toe with the self-professed “devil’s advocates” during class discussions, managing to weave in Shakespearean insults while simultaneously ripping apart their inane arguments.

Soon, they began to meet up for study sessions at Mitsuri and Shinobu’s apartment, as Y/N had also become incredibly close with the two girls. Sanemi began to find himself at the girls’ apartment far more than he was at his own. In March, he discovered they had precisely the same tastes in music; within a day she had sent him several specially-curated playlists that featured bands similar to his favorite artists.

By the end of March, Y/N had announced her plan to move in with Mitsuri and Shinobu.

It wouldn’t happen until the end of the semester, when Y/N’s solitary lease ended, but she’d planned to move in right before she spent a month at home with her family – which also marked the first time she’d return home since her brother had died.

Sanemi wasn’t surprised at how quickly Y/N had bonded with his other female friends; she had a sharp, dry wit that matched perfectly with Shinobu’s lofty, passive-aggressive attitude, yet also seemed to find delight in spending time with Mitsuri, with whom she’d rapidly become attached to at the hip. Part of Sanemi had hoped that her friendship with the two women would lighten the shadows that crossed her face every so often, and that maybe she would finally crack a smile.

It wasn’t as if Y/N wasn’t expressive – she was, particularly around her eyes. More often than not, she was scowling at him or rolling her eyes at his barbs, but there had been a few occasions when he’d thought that he’d caught something softer as she looked at him. Other times, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye whenever Mitsuri challenged Tengen to an arm-wrestling contest, as though she were on the precipice of laughter, though none ever came.

Shinobu had suggested Y/N’s failure to smile was just a way of her processing her trauma and grief, and that she was doing everything she could to cope. Sanemi had not yet broached the subject with Y/N, not wanting her to feel compelled to open up wounds she was trying so hard to stitch together, but he worried that she wasn’t getting the support she needed.

Near the end of the semester, Y/N had become slightly more irritable, constantly jiggling a foot whenever she sat down, or wringing her hands in her lap whenever she was in deep thought.

Sanemi had agreed to study with her for their last final, but was on his last nerve as she continuously clicked her pen, each press of her thumb against the cap harder than the last.

“You have to stop.” He finally snapped, throwing his own pen down on his notebook before him to glare at her. “I can’t hear myself think.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst before lowering, her arms folding insecurely in front of her chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her foot beginning to twitch beneath the table.

Sanemi sighed and slammed his book shut, folding his hands under his chin as he braced his elbows on the table. “All right, out with it; what’s got ya all bent out of shape?”

Y/N didn’t meet his eyes, instead toying idly with the ends of her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes and huffed. “You’ve been squirming nonstop for the last two weeks, and it’s only gotten worse,” he nodded pointedly at the way she kept twisting and untwisting a lock of her dark, silky hair around her index finger. “Somethin’s bothering you.”

Y/N remained quiet for a moment, but contemplative, weighing out the risks and the rewards of opening up to the scowling man sitting across from her.

“I haven’t been home since – since he died,” She began, shifting slightly in her seat. “And I’ve felt really closed off from my parents ever since the funeral. We haven’t talked much at all.” She bit her lip, staring intently at the wooden grain of the table. “I guess I’m just anxious about going back.”

Sanemi clicked his tongue. “I gotta say, I don’t envy you right now,”

“Thanks.” Y/N interjected coolly, but Sanemi held a hand up to quiet her.

“I mean, that car wreck just killed my whole family, so I didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s grief but my own,” Sanemi continued, and Y/N fell silent. “I can’t imagine having to deal with someone else’s.”

Y/N’s hand had fallen from her hair to the table, and it twitched toward him. She hestitated for a moment before finally reaching over and placing her small hand on Sanemi’s broad, scarred forearm.

“Sanemi, I had no idea,” she said, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Sanemi surprised himself by not immediately shrugging off her touch, but he found it hard to meet her eyes. Most people looked at him with pity, and he’d long since lost the ability to stomach it.

Y/N slowly pulled her hand back from his arm, moving to wipe furiously at her eyes.

“Ah hell, I didn’t mean to make ya cry-“ Sanemi said, cursing himself for trudging up what had to be painful memories.

She shook her head furiously. “No, it’s not that,” she batted the tears from her eyes before meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ve just felt so…alone these last few months. Like I was drowning in my grief.”

Sanemi felt something within him stir at the intensity of her stare, something warm and comforting spreading through his chest. “But you’re not,” he said with equal quiet, offering her a small smile. “It’s the worst club to be a part of – the dead family club – but it’s nice knowin’ someone else in it.”

Y/N nodded, and Sanemi could swear he saw something like a ghost of a smile on her face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“If things at home get too hard to deal with this summer,” Sanemi said after a pause, “just call me. Any time.”

And damn him if he didn’t feel like he could soar at the look of hope in her eyes.

--------------------------------------------------------

July 15th – Mid-Summer Festival

Summer had passed by slowly and lazy in the blazing heat.

Sanemi had spent the majority of their break at the Rengoku family lakehouse, working alongside his best friend as a lifeguard at the local swim club. When he wasn’t shouting at kids for being walking lawsuits as they ran alongside the pool and drinking cheap beer with Kyojuro, he had been texting Y/N – outside of their active group chat.

It was insane to him that she’d become as close with him as he was to Kyojuro. Sanemi had found her so easy to talk to, even over the phone, and eagerly checked for her messages the moment he awoke and the moment before he fell asleep. Once or twice, Kyojuro had even grumbled that Sanemi rarely texted the group chat back but seemed to have no trouble responding to one of Y/N’s many memes or song recommendations.

But now, the whole gang had reunited for a holiday weekend at the Rengoku lakehouse to celebrate the mid-summer festival with a cookout and fireworks.

Translation: they’d all come to get absolutely plastered while enjoying some fun in the picturesque water surrounding the generous estate.

It was day two of the festival weekend, and six of them were in the water, locked in a fierce battle of chicken. Y/N was perched on Sanemi’s shoulders as she wrestled Mitsuri, who was close to strangling a sputtering Kyojuro with her thighs as she desperately tried to remain upright. So far, he and Y/N had knocked out the other pair — Shinobu and Giyuu -- and were vying for the title of Chicken Champions.

Sanemi wouldn’t lie that he’d initially felt a bit smug over how Y/N had darted forward to grab his arm when Mitsuri announced the need to partner up. He’d thought it was because of his strength — he knew he was jacked, and he assumed that she had (correctly) concluded that she stood the best chance of winning if she climbed atop his shoulders.

“I won’t let you fall, princess.” He’d crooned, winking at her. She’d rolled her eyes at the use of his nickname for her, and he’d puffed his chest out, feeling a cocky sense of pride.

As it turned out, he’d been dead fucking wrong. Y/N hadn’t chosen him because he’d looked the strongest.

No. She’d chosen him because he was the only one she could get away with outright abusing in her ruthless play for the championship.

“Left, left, left!” She screeched, fingers snaring in his hair to wrench him harshly to the side, her heels digging sharply into his abdomen beneath the water as she desperately tried to steer him away from Mitsuri’s incoming flailing limbs.

Somehow, despite the searing pain in his scalp and the spray of lake water in his eyes, Sanemi had managed to follow her directions and the pair managed to narrowly avoid catastrophe. But Y/N wasn’t finished, as she tightened her shapely thighs around Sanemi’s neck to twist him back so she could lunge for the pinkette now unsteady atop of Kyojuro.

Sanemi had never been more grateful that the water covered him from the waist-down, as Y/N’s thighs clenched around his head once more as she shoved at her best friend with all her might.

Mitsuri had been too unbalanced to resist Y/N’s attack, and she finally toppled off Kyojuro’s shoulders and splashed into the water.

“Chicken Champs!” Tengen declared from the shoreline where he had been refereeing, more interested in working in a tan than he had been in getting in the water.

“I knew we’d win.” Y/N sniffed, tapping Sanemi’s head lightly. “I didn’t scalp you, did I?”

But Sanemi couldn’t answer because he was fighting a losing battle to conceal the growing bulge in his trunks, fearful that if any of his friends saw, they’d never let him live it down.

He’d known he was in trouble when she’d first emerged from the girls’ room in that tiny red bikini. For the last three hours, he’d been constantly reminding himself that she was his best friend and was therefore off-limits every time he’d caught his eyes lingering a second too long on her exposed skin and that he valued their friendship above all else.

But those rationalities were getting harder to remember the longer he felt her legs dangling over his chest, and his self-control was rapidly slipping.

So, upon Tengen declaring their victory, Sanemi did the only thing he could think of to escape his predicament— he slid his hands under her knees and dumped her into the water behind him, Y/N squeaking as she fell.

By the time Y/N’s head breached the surface of the lake, her eyes blazing and ready to fight, Sanemi had already been halfway back to the lake house, with nothing but a cold shower on his mind.

-------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, once everyone was thoroughly shit-faced and Kyojuro and Tengen were itching to light the fireworks, Y/N was nowhere to be found. Sanemi broke away from the group, heading towards the boat dock just down a grassy hill when he’d spotted her sitting on the edge of the pier. She was leaning against one of the posts, legs dangling into the water below as she gazed up at the brilliant expanse of stars twinkling in the night sky.

“It’s about time to watch a bunch of drunk assholes blow shit up.” He said, crouching down to sit beside her.

Y/N merely turned her head toward him before looking away again, remaining quiet. Her eyes were clouded and wistful as she peered up at the sky, her lower lip wobbling slightly.

In moments like these, Sanemi had learned the best thing he could do was stay silent. If she wanted to talk, she would, but sometimes, she just wanted him near.

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the slow lap of the lake water as it broke against the wooden pier, and the distant echoes of laughter as Kyo and Tengen drunkenly tried to set up the firework display.

“It’s been eight months since he died,” Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft. “And I hadn’t even realized. I was so swept up in having fun that I forgot about him for a moment.” She looked down at her lap, fingers twisting nervously together. “I must be awful.”

Sanemi shook his head, his hand itching to reach out and pat her back, to offer her comfort, but it remained still on the wood beneath him. “Nah. Not awful.” He lifts his gaze up to the stars twinkling above them, the mid-summer night sky resplendent with light. “It’s shitty to say, but sometimes you’ve gotta remember that you’re still livin’— even if they’re not.”

Y/N snorted, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears that had begun to cling to her eyelashes. “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

Sanemi grimaced, resenting how poor he could be with words. “I meant that he wouldn’t want you to keep yourself from living just because of him.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What brought it on, anyways? I mean, what reminded you?”

Y/N leaned her head back against the worn post of the pier, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “I guess when Kyo mentioned it was almost time for fireworks. My brother loved the summer festivals, but he really loved the fireworks.” Y/N’s eyes slid shut momentarily as she reminisced, echoes of vibrant colors and the sounds of her brother’s laughter echoing in the corners of her mind. “He’d beg my parents to stay up past his bedtime to watch them. They used to tell him ‘No,’ but he kept sneaking out to watch them anyways. They eventually just gave in.”

Y/N paused, as she wove the connection between the memory in her head with the heaving feeling in her heart. “I guess that’s why I came down here.” She shrugged, as though to deflect the pain and loneliness that curled her shoulders forward, that still lurked in the shadows beneath her eyes. “Didn’t wanna drag the group down, you know?”

Sanemi looked back to Y/N, so beautiful beneath the starlight, so kind, and so very sad.

“I don’t think anyone would think you’re bein’ a drag,” Sanemi murmured. “But tell ya what — if you’re ever feeling down again while we’re all together, how about you give me a signal and we can dip out together ‘til you feel better?”

Y/N sniffed eyeing him incredulously. “A signal?”

Sanemi nodded. “Yeah, like — I dunno — a code word or something?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked back over the still water of the inky lake, considering.

“How about ‘chicken?’ In honor of our win today?” She said after a moment.

Sanemi grinned. “Perfect.”

The telling whizz and whirr of fireworks being launched into the sky cut Y/N off before she could reply. With a resounding boom! the night sky filled with bright streaks of red, white, pink, and yellow. Between the pulsing claps of the thunder of the fireworks, Y/N and Sanemi could hear the distant whoops and hollers of their friends.

Y/N’s eyes were locked on the dazzling display of fire and spark above them, a mixture of sadness and wonder glistening within them.

Later that night, just as Sanemi had been on the precipice of sleep, he’d realized he had not seen a single firework that his friends had launched in celebration of the summer festival.

Because while Y/N’s eyes had been fixed on the beautiful show of color in the night sky, Sanemi had not been able to look at anything else but her.

--------------------------------------------------------

October 31st -- Halloween

“Stop moving your face,” Y/N said exasperatedly to the scowling, white-haired man sitting before her. “You’re going to mess me up.”

Sanemi wanted to crack an eye to glare at her, but he feared she might stick one of her makeup brushes in his eye socket if he did. Instead, Sanemi clenched his jaw, fists balling in his lap.

“You’re taking for-fuckin’-ever,” he muttered, wincing slightly as Y/N dabbed a cold, gel-like substance against his cheek.

“I’m not the one who picked the most high-maintenance costume out of our entire group,” Y/N scoffs, pulling away from Sanemi to blend together a mixture of red, brown, and gray face paint to apply on the fake wound she has created along Sanemi’s sharp cheekbone. “I mean seriously, a wolf demon? Why not just go as a regular werewolf?”

It is Halloween and Sanemi regrets ever agreeing to a group costume theme.

It had all started when Shinobu, Mitsuri, and Y/N had come to their weekly family dinner a month prior with wicked gleams in their eyes. They had waited until everyone else had been seated before Shinobu announced that not only had she gotten all their names down on an invite list for an exclusive Halloween party at the Wisteria House the following month, but they would all be dressing up as part of a group theme.

Tengen, Kyojuro, and Gyomei had each expressed excitement while Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had remained silent, though the latter only did so because he was too busy gaping at the girls, his mouth full of food.

“Tell me you three’ve already figured out the theme,” Tengen had said, his magenta eyes alight with excitement. “I want to be the flashiest group in that fucker.”

Mitsuri’s smile had only grown wider. “Mythical monsters - specifically demons!”

Sanemi’s groan had been cut off by a sharp kick under the table from Y/N, who was glowering at him threateningly. One look from her, and he’d known arguing would be pointless.

And that was how Sanemi had found himself now, on Halloween night, sitting stiffly on the worn-out ottoman in the girls’ apartment while Y/N smeared liquid latex across his cheeks to create the fake appearance of claw marks.

Mitsuri was on the other side of Y/N, painting fake slits on either side of Obanai’s mouth to give him a more snake-like appearance to suit his Snake Demon attire. The moment Sanemi had seen Y/N’s hands free up after she had put the finishing touches on Shinobu’s Butterfly Demon makeup, he’d nearly toppled over the coffee table to claim her before Kyojuro could sit down and occupy her time.

Truthfully, Sanemi had just wanted the chance to be near her. She was already decked out in her full Spider demon costume; her face painted a ghostly shade of white and accented by red circles meant to mimic the appearance of spider eyes. Sanemi, however, had miscalculated one crucial detail in his haste to be the only one of the men that she touched to do their makeup — how skimpy her costume would be.

Y/N was clad in a thin, white wrap dress that cut short just above her mid-thigh. The dress, though sleeved, also boasted a deep v-neck, and Sanemi was avidly trying to avoid staring at her exposed cleavage, which had also been painted and dusted with a shimmering powder. Her legs were bare, covered in the same glitter as the rest of her skin, and she was already teetering around in heels that Sanemi knew damn well would not stay on her feet longer than an hour.

In fairness, Y/N’s costume wasn’t nearly as skimpy as her pink-haired friend’s. Mitsuri insisted she was going as a cat demon, but Sanemi failed to see the correlation between the black unitard with the plunging neckline and anything remotely feline.

Y/N’s fingers brushed against his cheeks as she dabbed a mixture of paint to create the appearance of blood and Sanemi wills them not to heat under her touch. The task is nearly impossible, however, because he felt like he was being electrocuted every time she brushes against him. That feeling was only accentuated every time she moved to lean over him and pick up yet another beauty tool, the sweet honey of her perfume more intoxicating than the shots Tengen had made them pound earlier.

Sanemi was so lost in thought as he reveled beneath Y/N’s heavenly touch that he failed to notice her step back, eyes scrutinizing his face as she considered her handiwork. Sanemi cracked an eye open and watched her nod in satisfaction, finally dropping her makeup brushes on the side table.

“You’re done.” She said, tapping his shoulder to motion him to stand. Y/N thrusted a tiny makeup mirror in his hand so he could inspect.

She’d turned his existing facial scars into fake, bloodied, fresh ones, but elongated them to give the appearance of claw marks. She added an additional vertical scar that extended from above his right eyebrow to nearly his cheek. All in all, Sanemi thought he looked -

“Scary!” Mitsuri exclaimed, eyes widening softly. “He’s sure on theme — he’ll terrify people!”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disagreement. “No, I don’t think he looks scary,” she tilted her head in thought, Sanemi feeling slightly embarrassed as the two girls continued to look him over.

“I think he looks…,” Y/N paused, her eyebrow quirking up suggestively as her eyes lit up, dancing with a challenge. “Feral.”

Sanemi grinned at her, purposefully bearing his teeth in an effort to look as wolf-like as possible.

Tengen came back into the living room from where he and Kyo were doing shots and winked at his silver-haired friend. “You’ll still be able to pick up girls looking like that, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi doesn’t know why, but the comment irritated him, and he turned away from the group to hide his reddening face.

He doesn’t see the way Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the comment.

--------------------------------------------------------

It was two in the morning, and they are all utterly inebriated.

The Wisteria House — an exclusive club that Shinobu had only been able to get them into because of her connections to one of its proprietors — had been pulsing with music and lights as throngs of costumed revelers had ground to the thunderous beat of the music.

The group of them had thrived beneath the black light of the club dance floor, getting drunk on endless rounds of shots and mixed drinks that kept flowing from the bar like a waterfall of spirits.

But now, it was after two in the fucking morning, and somehow Sanemi had been stuck with corralling not one, but two drunk assholes back into their apartment despite being intoxicated himself.

The two assholes in question were also arguably the biggest lightweights out of all their friends — Mitsuri and Y/N.

Six of them had agreed to call an Uber to take them all back home to their apartments, but Kyojuro had gotten the whole group kicked out after he’d thrown up all over the driver’s pristine leather seats.

The blonde had been nearly unconscious when Tengen and Giyuu dragged him out the side of the car, and neither of them could stand to haul their blacked-out friend back to the boys’ apartment by themselves. But someone had to stay back to walk the two drunk girls back to their apartment because none of them were stupid enough to risk letting the girls walk by themselves - which was how Sanemi found himself in the position of the official babysitter of the two, shit-faced girls who stumbled along the pavement next to him.

“Kanroji — no, god dammit, st-op tryin’ to run,” Sanemi growled, his words a little slurred as he lunged to grab onto the pinkette’s arm as she tried yet again to take off into the night, giggling about how she wanted to run and feel free.

Mitsuri began wailing because Sanemi is a big meanie, but she shuffled along beside him in resigned obedience. Sanemi bit down on the litany of curses threatening to spill from his lips as he whipped around to lay eyes on the other girl he’d been charged with escorting safely home.

Y/N was limping along, about ten feet behind her friends, her legs quivering from exhaustion thanks to those fucking heels she’d insisted on wearing. How she’d managed to remain upright and not snap both her ankles was a mystery to Sanemi, but right then, he was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to slump home and pass out in his own bed.

“Y/N!” He barked behind him, the girl’s face blearily looking up in alarm. “March!”

“‘Nemiiii,” she whined, stumbling slightly as her balance shook. “I can’t — hiccup — go any faster.”

Sanemi ground his teeth. “Try harder.”

Y/N managed to flip him off before stumbling again. “Mitsuri’s right, you are a meanie.”

Sanemi had had it; it was nearly three in the goddamn morning, and somehow the man with the least amount of patience had been stuck with the two drunkest shitheads in his circle of friends, and those shitheads were keeping him from embracing the sweet oblivion of drunken sleep.

So, he snapped.

Hand still wrapped firmly around Mitsuri’s forearm, he stomped back to Y/N, tugging his other friend helplessly along behind him. Standing before her, Sanemi crouched and turned to glare up at his swaying best friend.

“Climb on. I ain’t arguing.” He ordered, and to her credit, Y/N complied, looping her arms across Sanemi’s sternum and locking her legs around his waist. He thinks she would have put up more of a fight had her feet not been about to fall off.

“No fair! I wanna be carried!” Mitsuri whined, tugging at his arm.

Sanemi just trudged along, relief flooding him as the girls’ tiny apartment comes into view. “You know how to walk in heels, Kanroji. She doesn’t.” He jerked his head back to the half-unconscious girl clinging to his back.

By some miracle, Sanemi and the girls finally arrived at the apartment, and Mitsuri was at least coordinated enough to fumble for her key to unlock the front door.

Once inside, Sanemi kicked the door shut behind him, and Mitsuri broke free from his hold, half-sprinting into the kitchen to chug some water. Sanemi readjusted his grip on Y/N’s legs and moved towards her closed bedroom door, ready to dump her on her bed and go the fuck home.

“We made it!” Y/N’s sleepy voice murmured in his ear. Sanemi grunted in response, moving to deposit her on the soft down of her mattress when he felt her lurch forward on his back.

He was about to snap at her for being difficult when he felt the sloppy press of a soft pair of lips against his ear.

“Thanks, ‘Nemi.” Y/N said sleepily, falling off his back in an unceremonious heap on her bed. She sunk into the ridiculous array of pillows and blankets she insisted on piling onto her mattress.

Sanemi realized she’d been aiming for his cheek, but had missed in her drunken stupor. Nonetheless, his ear burned where her mouth had been, and he felt slightly hot under the collar of his flannel shirt.

“Drink some water so you’re not violently hungover tomorrow, idiot.” Was all he said as he moved to leave her room and finally, finally, return to his apartment.

“‘M-Kay. Love you.” Y/N slurred, and Sanemi froze. “Love my ‘Nemi. You’re my bestest friend in the world.”

Sanemi’s heart thumped wildly in his ears, though the slight lead of disappointment sunk in his gut. She loved him like a brother, of course — not as anything — as anything more than that.

Sanemi moved to exit the apartment, checking to ensure Kanroji hadn’t fallen asleep on her back, and pausing only to place a trash can next to where she was passed out on the couch. He softly closed the door behind him and began to make his way back to the apartment he shared with Kyojuro and Tengen.

Sanemi’s feet stumbled slightly on his journey as his mind reeled. His ear still burned from Y/N’s kiss, and her words echoed and clanged around in his head until he could hear nothing else.

Somehow, Sanemi ends up in his bed, sleep rapidly creeping up on him as his eyelids grow heavy. In his haze, he thought about how, despite being in a club surrounded by her friends and drunk off her ass, she’d still failed to smile even once.

As he drifted off, he thought about how empty and cold he felt now that he is no longer bearing Y/N’s warm weight on his back. Though he’d only been carrying her, she had felt indescribably good in his arms, and Sanemi cannot think of much he wouldn’t do to be touched by her again.

--------------------------------------------------------

December – one week before finals.

A snowstorm had blown through their city that afternoon.

Though, perhaps “snowstorm” was too light of a description; in a matter of hours, an outright blizzard had dumped nearly three feet of snow across town and had utterly and thoroughly fucked the roads. The university had no option but to cancel classes through at least the end of the week.

Sanemi had looked forward to a night in, preferably with some video games and maybe some of his boys. It had been a long, strenuous week; truthfully, he felt like killing some virtual monsters.

It seemed, however, that his friends had other ideas as to how to spend their newly-freed evening, and of course it involved doing the exact opposite of what Sanemi had hoped to do.

He’d been in the middle of frying an egg for dinner when his phone began vibrating. He’d ignored it at first, until it nearly buzzed itself off his counter, Sanemi having to jolt to catch it in his hand before it hit the cracked linoleum of his kitchen floor.

His phone was steadily buzzing with new messages in the group chat. Swearing slightly under his breath, Sanemi unlocked his phone and scrolled up to see the message that had prompted the flurry of reactions and enthusiastic agreements from his friends.

It had started with a message from Tengen.

Quad. 20 minutes. Snow ball fight.

Sanemi groaned and responded only to tell Tengen to fuck off. But then Y/N had replied that she and the girls were on their way, and she’d called him a baby bitch for sitting out, so he’d had no choice but to bundle up in his thickest flannel and sweater and head towards the quad.

By the time Sanemi trudged his way through the shin-deep wintry sludge, a full-on war was being waged on the campus green. Though it was nearly midnight, the snow illuminated the winter wonderland around them, and Sanemi could see all his friends and a few other straggling students engaged in a fierce battle.

He scanned the quad for a sign of Y/N and spied her about 20 feet away, swathed in a thick, wool coat and hat, crouched slightly behind a tree. Beside her was a small pile of densely packed snowballs, like a stockpiled winter arsenal.

“Ya know you’re supposed to throw the snowballs, right?” Sanemi chided, sidling up to where she stood, just off the snow-covered walk of the green. She had two snowballs clutched in her gloved hands, but her eyes were fixed on someone, her tongue darting out between her lips in concentration as she calculated her next move. “Like, actually throw ‘em at people.”

Y/N tore her eyes off whatever target she’d locked onto to give him a withering glare. “I’m trying, smart-ass, to figure out the best way to hit Gyomei in the face,” she turned away from him once more, resuming her careful assessment of the tallest target on the quad, who was busy pelting the back of Giyuu’s head with scary precision.

Sanemi’s grin turned wicked. “Kinda sadistic of you to target the blind guy, isn’t it?” He goaded, bending down to scoop up and a handful of snow for himself.

Y/N whipped around at him, eyes blazing. “He’s throwing snow chunks at people, you fuckhead, and all is fair in war-“

Y/N’s rant was cut off as a well-packed sphere of snow smashed into the side of her face. She dropped the snowballs she’d been holding, her hand jumping up to her cheek in shock, as the skin beneath it stung from the icy bite of the snow.

Sanemi let out a hearty laugh. Y/N stood there, mouth gaping and dark hair plastered to the wet of her cheek, an adorable mix of both shock and indignation on her face.

Behind him, Sanemi heard Mitsuri’s tinkling, mischievous laughter.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N breathed, staring after her roommate, her eyes lighting up with a promise of swift retribution.

“Oh come on,” Sanemi laughed again at her, open and deep. “You had it coming — that’s what you get for tryna hit the blind -“

An explosion of ice and water smacked into the side of his face, soaking his hair and the collar of his jacket.

Y/N whirled to see Obanai wink at her before he took off to join Mitsuri to guard her against the onslaught flying snowballs.

Y/N turned back to Sanemi and gasped.

Obanai had not just thrown a snowball packed from the generous coating of fresh, pristine powder that covered the green; rather, he’d made a small grenade, using snow and slush gathered from the side of the road.

Gray snow dripped from the side of Sanemi’s face, soiling his cheek, and staining the cream sweater he had on beneath his jacket. Sanemi was frozen in his surprise at being caught off guard until a small, unfamiliar sound snapped him out of it.

The source of the sound made his heart drop to his stomach.

It was Y/N, who was staring up at his soiled face, watching as the black snow slid down his cheek and dripped onto the ground below him.

And she was laughing. Laughing at him.

The sound that rattled from her chest was neither a snicker nor a snort; it was a raspy, raucous cackle. Her head was tipped back slightly, as she gawked up at him, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she vaguely gestured to the smear of gray on his cheek and dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Laughter subsiding slightly, Y/N stepped forward and swiped her hand through the sludge still gathered on Sanemi’s face in a poor attempt to wipe the gray stain away. She realized it was futile though and looked instead at her now-dirtied palm in slight distaste, wiping it against the black wool of her coat.

She peered back up at him and smiled, broad and radiant.

That exhilarating smile faded, however, as Sanemi stood there, motionless, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted, shocked into silence.

“Sanemi, what-“ Y/N started, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Do it again,” Sanemi whispered, breathless. He’d not blinked or dared to do so in case he might miss it. “Smile again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows knit in confusion before softening. She’d not realized she’d even done it.

But Sanemi looked so awestruck, so desperate that she couldn’t deny him. So, she grinned broadly at him, cheeks almost burning after months of non-use, though she could not find it within herself to care.

Sanemi slowly returned the smile, pure joy illuminating his features. And they both began to laugh, without restraint, even as snowballs continued to whizz by them.

By the time the snowball fight had ended, Sanemi was soaked to the bone.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the slushy projectiles that had been lobbed with precision by the carefree college students who had gathered on the quad. His attention had been exclusively on Y/N as she pranced and ducked through the snow, smiling and laughing with abandon.

She’d been exquisite to watch.

One by one, his other friends had caught notice, had pricked their ears at the sound of an unfamiliar laugh that rang through the campus green, and turned to identify the source. As they watched Y/N run and duck and throw with that broad grin on her face, they too, had fallen still, their eyes going soft as they realized the enormity of the moment.

Because when Y/N smiled, she was a completely different person.

She looked bright, carefree, and more radiant than the sun. The resplendence of her smile made the snow look ugly and dull in comparison.

Mitsuri had watched her best friend with tears in her eyes, and Shinobu had looked close to joining her.

All the while, Sanemi had been unable to tear his eyes from her, and the warmth that he felt spread through his numb fingers and cheeks made him swear that he would do anything, anything at all, to make Y/N smile again.

—————————————————————————

Sanemi felt as though he was levitating even after he dropped Y/N off back at her apartment. He may as well have been floating on a cloud as he made his way down the hallway of the dimly lit hallway of the girls’ apartment complex, because he’d finally seen Y/N smile, had seen her laugh, and it was goddamned glorious.

Mitsuri emerged from the hall stairwell, cheeks pink and eyes bright from the evening of fun in the cold. She giggled as she saw the gray stain still on Sanemi’s face from the sludge ball he took.

“I would say ‘sorry,’ but honestly, it was pretty funny,” Mitsuri teased, nodding at his disheveled appearance. Sanemi snorted, but he couldn’t feign annoyance or irritation because he felt so damn good.

“Tell your boyfriend to watch out tonight, or else he might find his bed outside.”

Mitsuri giggled again, but then fell quiet, something more serious crossing her face.

“When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” She asked, her voice low.

Just like that, Sanemi felt as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, as though he was crashing right back down to earth under the weight of the accusation she wanted him to answer for.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said gruffly, averting his gaze so he did not have to meet Mitsuri’s knowing stare.

Sanemi knew Mitsuri could see right through his bullshit — could tell by the way she huffed at him and could see it out of his periphery in how her head was cocked at him. He looked back at her and nearly recoiled at the vast pity swimming in her jade eyes.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” he groaned, leaning against the hall wall and letting his head fall back against it with a thud. He ran a hand over his exhausted face, and slightly resented the fact his friend had always been so discerning in the affairs of the heart.

“I can’t put that kind of pressure on her,” Sanemi admitted quietly after a long moment, arm falling back down to his side, limp.

Mitsuri had been right, of course, he was in love with Y/N. He’d suspected it for a while, but seeing her radiant smile that night only confirmed that the persistent twisting he had felt in his heart over the last few months had been more than mere longing.

But Sanemi also knew he’d long been toeing a line that he can’t cross.

“If things between us went south, what then?” Sanemi continued, “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’ll feel like she’s the one who has to leave, and I-“ Sanemi hesitated, shaking his head. A lump formed in his throat, threatening to suffocate the emotions that have been fighting to break free from his heart.

“It would be fuckin’ selfish of me to take that from her after she’s tried so hard to build herself a support network. I can’t do that to her, ‘Suri.”

The pink-haired woman sighed and joined him as he leaned against the wall, the two staring off into the empty space before them.

“She is a part of our group, that’s true,” Mitsuri agreed, though contemplative. “But you, Sanemi, have been the biggest source of comfort for her.”

Sanemi scoffed. “Well, that’s what best friends are s’pposed to do.”

Mitsuri shook her head, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “No, I’m her best friend,” she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “You though… you’re different. And I think she knows that, too.”

She kicked off the wall, and made her way towards her apartment door, pausing just as she reaches for the knob.

“After all, you’re the one she smiled for.”

Mitsuri and all her pink disappeared into her apartment, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Sanemi remained against the wall for a while longer, his head and his heart a tangled web of hope and doubt.

The walk back to his place is solitary, and so Sanemi tried to sort through the snarled brambles of his mind. As he shuffled through the winter landscape, Sanemi thought that he’d never fully appreciated the snow before. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful snow-capped conifers looked, branches heavy with the sparkling ice; hadn’t realized how beautifully quiet the world could be when blanketed beneath a thick coat of white.

He thought about how Y/N looked standing amidst the chaos of the snowball fight, cheeks flushed with the cold and her own adrenaline, a smile as wide and bright plastered on her face. He basked in the warm echoes of her laughter as she lobbed yet another snowball at the back of Mitsuri’s head, squealing in delight when her friend returned her attack tenfold.

And Sanemi thinks that the snow wasn’t so bad after all.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Stick around for part 2 if you want to find out if Sanemi will finally confess (and how he’ll likely screw it up 😉)

#demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny x reader #kny fanfic #sanemi drabble #kny #kocho shinobu #shinobu kocho #mitsuri kanroji #kimetsu mitsuri #kny mitsuri #kny shinobu #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku

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ieatstarsforaliving · 6 months

Text

The Set-Up for Chapter 4 (3)

Summary: Hazel is really bad at lying. Especially to you.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of violence and death, I don't know what else honestly it's like 2 AM

Word Count: 4244

Note: I know it's been a while, my bad- turns out this whole university thing actually needs my time and effort to pass or something idk. Anyways, this chapter is lowkey kind of boring cause it's the set-up for the fun upcoming action-filled bloody chapters so just bear with me. But since I was gone for a while this is extra long... at least for me. Next fic is chapter 2 of The Grief We're Given so enjoy the lighthearted fic for now... also am lazy so this is unedited LMAO so it might be bad idc - Bia <3

“(Y/N), I know this may come off as a shock, but I love you too much to hide it from you anymore. I’m actually… the Spider-Woman!”

PJ dramatically pulled off the red mask from her face, striking a pose, earning a laugh from Hazel.

The trio were putting away the equipment they used for the Fight club after all the other members had left the gym— and by that it meant Josie and Hazel were putting away equipments while PJ thought it was a fun idea to dig through Hazel’s backpack to pull out her Spider-Woman mask, put it on, and start doing cartwheels and other nonsense around the gym floor.

“Okay, why don’t you actually help us clean up, PJ,” Josie complained, folding up the floor mats, “Instead of blowing Hazel’s cover?”

“Fine,” PJ rolled her eyes before throwing the mask back to Hazel, who caught it reflexively just as it was about to hit her face. “But even if anyone saw me with the mask, it’s not like they would believe any of us losers could possibly be the amazing Spider-Woman.”

PJ threw a playful grin at Hazel who folded the mask and hid it in her backpack. PJ had been begging her to reveal her superhero identity for a while, saying that it would raise all of their social levels right to the top. Josie, in reverse, begged Hazel not to reveal her identity, especially given the risks involved.

“But what if you just told (Y/N)? Then, she’ll fall in love with you, then automatically she’ll hang out with us more, and by association she’ll bring Isabel and Brittany with her!” PJ argued, still unwilling to drop the topic.

“Yeah, and then the next villain that wants to kill Hazel will take the people she loves as hostage,” Josie warned. “In fact– I know we’ve been doing the self-defense club for a while and it’s been going pretty well so far, but Hazel has exposed herself way too much.”

PJ groaned, indicating her impatience with Josie’s cautious approach. “Okay what part of this is too much? All Hazel’s doing is lightly punching and kicking a bunch of girls.”

“Was it the backflip?” Hazel chimed in.

“Yes, it was the backflip!” Josie blurted. “And we can’t keep saying ‘there’s all sorts of people who teach you stuff in juvie’ as an excuse anymore.”

“But the club is working!” PJ insisted, flailing her arms towards the gym. “Girls are actually acknowledging us in the hallways, I’ve gotten 3 high fives just this afternoon, and girls– the hot ones know our names. And also Female solidarity and whatever. The club is working!”

“I know. I feel like if we keep it up, you guys might actually be able to take down some crime in the area.”

“No, if we keep it up we can put our fingers inside of each other, grow up, Hazel.”

Josie crossed her arms. “Whatever. It’s your call.”

“I do feel like people are liking more than just the hitting and the tackling part of the club.”

The club had moved onto catfights on the gym floor, and it was no secret to Hazel that she always looked forward to these training sessions, particularly when it came to her interactions with you. All the punching, kicking, and rolling around the floor was more than what Hazel believed she deserved, but she couldn’t help but crave a deeper connection with you. And the weekly lunch meetings to make the ‘women murdered in history’ project weren’t exactly enough to get to know each other.

PJ shrugged. “Yeah, I know, we’re empowering them. Duh.”

“No, I mean, seriously, to have a safe space like this, it means a lot to people, and I think if we took some time to spend a meeting and actually get to know these girls, like, it would be really important instead of just…” Hazel pictured the time you were on top of her, pinning her down with your feeble strength, bodies pressed close– so close– as you grappled each other on the floor, listening to the chants and cheers of the girls circling around. Her voice trailed off. “...sweating on them.”

PJ and Josie paused, then looked at each other with an incredulous smile.

“Hazel, that is… genuinely a brilliant idea.”

“I love talking about my trauma.”

Hazel squinted. “That’s not really–”

“-I literally jack off after every single therapy session. It just makes girls weirdly horny.”

Josie shook her head. “Don’t say ‘girls’. It’s just you.”

“Okay!” Hazel interrupted, fearing someone walking in midst of the conversation that turned weird thanks to PJ, as always. “I’ll just email the group about our next meeting.”

You walked into the gym with an excited grin. Fight club was the one thing you looked forward to in school nowadays— it was the only place you felt truly safe and comfortable, with only girl members (minus Mr. G, but he was an ally) who cheered you on with every weak punch that you threw.

Hazel noticed you walking in and waved to you, and you noticed that the format of the club had changed today. Everyone was sitting in a circle, like one of those sharing sessions in kindergarten times. You joined the circle in between Krystal and Hazel, who grinned like an idiot when you sat beside her.

“What’s going on?” You whispered to her, but Josie answered your question.

“So, we know that this club has been a place where we can feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a safe space and a place where we can open up and talk about our feelings.”

You nodded along as the girls began to talk about themselves— Sylvie with her stepdad, Stella with her stalker, and Brittany with her jewelry business— and you realized that although you had been fighting each other for a while, you never knew that much about the girls. You listened tentatively to each of their stories, but to your honesty, you were quite distracted by your project partner, who kept opening her mouth, then closed them continuously. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to open up. Your curiosity piqued, and when your eyes met with her’s, you encouraged her with a supportive look.

Hazel smiled at your aid. She didn’t really know how to talk about the biggest secret that she held about her superpower, but your expression was so supporting– too supporting, that she found herself speaking out.

“Well, ever since…” Hazel began, her mind racing to find the right words.

I’ve been bitten by a radioactive spider,

“...My parent’s divorce,”

I’ve been doing this, like, superhero stuff after school. I don’t even know if I’m doing this right, you know?

“My mom’s been doing this, like, mid-life crisis. I don’t know how that’s sitting with me, you know?”

And it’s just me swinging through buildings and beating criminals up and handing them over to the police who hate me because I’m a faceless vigilante but the entire neighborhood depends on me because some of these criminals are genuinely insane. I’ve broken bones, I’ve fallen through roofs, I got impaled once, that was fun— and it just feels so incredibly amazing but so burdening, all the same time.

“And it's been really really dark.”

She took a glance at you, who was nodding through her words, returning her gaze with tender understanding.

“This has just been really meaningful to me to, like, get to know some new people-”

(Y/N).

“-Who actually wants to, like, get to know me.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Hazel. You could hear the vulnerability shining through her words— it must have been hard to find good friends after experiencing such hardship. You couldn’t help but come to admire her even more.

You raised your hand. “And I just wanted to say that I think it’s very hard to find a good and safe community in school for girls, and I’m really grateful to Hazel for founding this club,” You gushed. “It's really brave of you— and your friends— to take your past and turn it into something so amazing for us. So, thank you.”

Hazel grinned like an idiot, fidgeting with her hair as her face burned up.

“Get a room, you two,” PJ intervened with a smirk. “But seriously, I just want to circle back to what Brittany was saying–”

“-I would like to go next, if that’s okay.” Josie raised her hand.

PJ was obviously discontented, but Josie started anyway.

“I don’t really like talking about juvie and everything that happened over the summer, um, you know, we get a lot of props or whatever cause people think it's so badass, But, really wasn’t. I mean, unless you consider getting hazed horrifically every single night, like, badass. I mean, obviously, you know, we had to survive the tributes, and you know, I did have to, like, fight people basically every single night. People were betting on us and we were given shivs and rusty pocket knives and splintered wood and, um, pipes as well.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows. No one’s going to believe this, She thought, turning to look at Isabel—

–Who had the most distressed look on her face?

Oh, Hazel blinked, shocked that Josie’s improvised monologue is working. There were almost tears glistening in Isabel’s eyes. She assumed Isabel to be the only one, then she turned to look at you— and your hand was on your mouth, eyes filled with woe.

“And we had to just like, fight people, sometimes to the death,” Josie added.

Hazel frowned. This wasn’t good.

Josie continued.

“And I still hear their screams at night and that guilt probably will, like, always shackle me forever. And sometimes people still try to attack us in the streets for revenge, or try to blackmail us into doing bad things with them, but I realize now, I don’t have to be that person anymore. We don’t have to be like that anymore. We don’t have to just let things happen to us. Because of you guys. And I am just really grateful for what the club has become and… just especially, you know, from where we started and, uh…”

Hazel’s eyes were leaping out of her face as she gestured to Josie to tone it down. She frantically shook her head, indicating that Josie’s speech had much more effect than she thought it would.

“Yeah, sorry,” Josie caught on, ending her facade quickly. “I feel like I kinda killed the vibe. I’ve never really, I guess, said that to anyone before, sorry.”

There was a silence that Hazel felt the need to break. This was bad– she knew Josie liked talking about her trauma, but she didn't expect Josie to make up the most devastating, hunger-games type of trauma in front of you.

“But juvie also wasn’t that bad,” Hazel blurted. “I mean it’s probably way less scary than adult prison, and it really builds character–”

You turned to look at Hazel who was rambling about the positive effects of juvie. Your heart broke at the sight of panic on her face– how harsh were the conditions of juvie that Hazel felt the need to protect her trauma?

Josie cut in. “Yeah, okay, people wanna wrap up maybe or…”

“I’m going through a divorce.”

Everyone turned to Mr. G.

“Whoo! That shit felt good to say.” Mr. G beamed, his leg stretched out as a free spirit. “Whoo, I tell y’all. Men… men need therapy.”

Josie stood up. “Yeah… I think that’s a good place to maybe wrap up.”

“What was that?” Hazel asked.

Josie shrugged, putting on her jacket. “I don’t… I don’t really–”

“-I mean, you were just bullshitting from A to Z with no breaks in between. I didn’t know you were such an actress, Josie.” PJ laughed, playfully shoving Josie’s shoulder. “You should think about that, for your future career.”

Hazel did not laugh. “Josie, you were the one who told me not to be ‘too much.’”

“I don’t think it was too much. I think it was the exact amount of oomph we needed as a group.” PJ grabbed her shoes from the floor. “It made us look vulnerable but also tough.”

“I don’t think (Y/N) was thinking that.”

“Okay, How do you know what (Y/N) was thinking?”

“I don’t, but I could see her–”

“-Maybe she’ll tell you herself,” PJ said, pointing behind Hazel.

Hazel spun around to see you walking towards her. She immediately straightened herself, touching up her hair as you waved to her.

“Hazel.”

Hazel gulped in response.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to finish the project today?” You asked, giving a shrug. “If you’re not busy. I know you’re always kind of busy and that’s why we just always did our project during lunch, but–”

“-I’m not busy!” Hazel exclaimed, before mentally slapping herself for being too eager. “I mean, today sounds good. Today is perfect.”

“Okay!” It was your turn to be eager, giving a nod before pointing to the girls locker room. “I’ll just get my bag, and I’ll be right back.”

As you slipped into the locker room, PJ and Josie slid towards Hazel with a curious look.

“It didn’t look like she was angry,” PJ commented with a grin. “So, in conclusion, today was a huge success. Do you guys want to get chicken on a stick to celebrate?”

“I… I think I’m hanging out with (Y/N).” Hazel gaped, as if she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. She was going to hang out with you. Today. Outside of school.

“Right now?”

“Right now!” Hazel gasped. “Oh my god, I don’t know why I said yes, I have to go and patrol the neighborhood–”

“-Ugh, Hazel!” PJ groaned, grabbing Hazel by the shoulders. “That’s literally all you do. You go to school, you come to the fight club, then you patrol the neighborhood. That’s all you do.”

“But—” Hazel sputtered. “-Crime–”

“-Hazel, Crime has been pretty low recently. The world isn’t going to burn down just because you miss patrol for a single day,” PJ countered, as if speaking to a child. “Do you trust me? It’s all about faith. That’s all it is. Leap of faith, Hazel. Leap of faith. Trust me when I say the police can deal with all the petty crimes. Go and enjoy yourself, finish your project, and remember to use protection.”

Hazel’s cheeks grew hot as she opened her mouth to counter PJ— just as you approached the trio with your bag.

“Hey, Hazel. Ready to go?”

Hazel buffered, her mind still on the sexual innuendo. She couldn’t help but think about certain activities when you stood there with your signature smile, earning a cackle from PJ.

“Sorry, we were just talking about juvie trauma and shit. She’s all yours.” PJ earnestly pushed Hazel towards you. “See you guys tomorrow!”

PJ skipped out of the gym, followed by Josie who gave Hazel a thumbs-up. Hazel responded to Josie with a nod. PJ was right– it was just for a day. Just one day off to hang out with you– which was the dream– and tomorrow, she would patrol twice as hard to make it up.

“Sorry, I just was thinking about-” Hazel faltered. “-things.”

“Things?”

Hazel felt the room get hotter. “It’s fine. Not really important.”

“Alright. So, where do you want to go?” You asked.

“Uh…”

Hazel thought about what PJ had said.

Leap of faith, was it?

And she took the leap.

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

By 8PM, the two of you found yourself in Hazel’s room, caught in a fit of laughter. Pizza and snacks were strewn across her bed, and music played out from her laptop as you wrapped up the project— a lego diorama with a bunch of famous murdered women. It was quite inappropriate but also incredibly creative, and the ridiculousness of it all had you two in stitches.

“I bet you 5 dollars that Mr. G doesn’t even have an actual degree,” You joked, adding a lego version of Casey Becker to the diorama. “He just showed up one day, and Principal Meyers desperately needed more teachers.”

“And ever since the club, he’s just been handing out As to every single girl,” Hazel laughed, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles as well. She lived for your laughter, thanking PJ and Josie in her head for convincing her to skip patrol for the day.

“Okay, I think we’re almost done. Just have to add the blood.” You grabbed the bottle of red paint and dropped some on your fingertip, then dabbed it around the lego characters’ bodies to create the ‘murder’ effect.

In the process, you somehow managed to smudge some on your cheek, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hazel who had made a habit of staring at you all the time.

“Oh, you got some on your…” Hazel tried, pointing to your face.

You blinked, eyes focusing on her face as you registered her words. You chuckled in embarrassment, trying to find the paint on your cheeks and obviously failing.

“Can I…?” Hazel breathed, and you tilted your head, allowing her to wipe away the streak of paint with her thumb. Her fingers moved delicately across your cheek, her eyes locked onto your’s. You could feel the warmth of her hand on your skin, and you melted against it. Hazel’s touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary, and Hazel realized only after she had savored the view for a while.

She pulled away, breaking your gaze with a sheepish smile. Your cheeks were tinted with a soft blush, and you muttered a word of thanks before finishing off the project with distractingly loud heartbeats.

The two of you stared at the finalized diorama in proud silence, taking in the project in its glory. It was messy and odd, but it was still illustrious.

“Well, I guess we’re finished!” You clapped your hands to commemorate the ending of you and Hazel’s homework.

“It’s been fun working with you,” Hazel replied, a little disappointed that this was the end of the project. What excuse did she have to hang out with you now?

You cocked your head. “Oh, don’t act like this is the last time we’re ever going to hang out together.”

“Really?”

“Of course!” You grinned. “With Mr. G’s class, lunch, and the self-defense club, I’m going to be with you all the time. You might even get sick of me at some point.”

I’m not sure that’s possible, Hazel thought to herself, really pleased that she had secured friendship with you.

“Speaking of the self-defense club, I’m really glad that you invited me,” You continued, wiping your red hands with a nearby paper towel. “I was being honest during the sharing circle. I’m really grateful for you.”

Hazel softened at your words.

“And I hope your mom gets better with her mid-life crisis,” You added.

“Thank you.” Although you had complimented her, Hazel couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about the sharing circle. She was lying to you– continuously. Was that a good base for a relationship? Not that you two had a relationship. Not that she didn’t want one. “Listen– what Josie said about juvie today, I think I have to clarify some things.”

You shook your head. You had purposefully left out that subject not to trigger her– and you didn’t want to make it feel like she owed you her history. “Oh, Hazel, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I get that it’s a hard subject to talk about, and I just want you to know that I’m here if you need anything.”

Hazel hesitated. She supposed if you didn’t really want to hear the explanation, she could keep her secret—

“-I mean what you went through was brutal and inhumane,” You continued.

Hazel’s guilt suffocated her.

“But you endured through it. You’re so brave. And so strong and just… honest. Like I can tell that everything that you do is genuine. You make me feel like I can be strong too—”

“-Okay, I need to tell you something,” Hazel interrupted. She couldn’t handle it anymore— but she knew she couldn’t tell you the whole truth. She took a deep breath before continuing. “There are some things happening in my life right now that I can’t really… talk about. But I want to. But I can’t. It’s for your safety and I shouldn’t even be mentioning that but… you really matter to me.”

Oh my god, I can’t believe I said that.

Hazel swallowed hard and gazed at you for a reaction.

“I do?” You peered back at Hazel’s reddened face. She nodded in response and it was your turn to be flustered, not knowing what to say.

“And I… I want to be honest with you,” Hazel pressed on. “I can’t tell you the whole truth. But I—”

“-Dispatch, we have a 10-90 in progress at the bank downtown. Requesting immediate backup and EMT support.”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Hazel quickly grabbed her laptop, which she had rigged to eavesdrop on police communications. She forgot that it automatically turned on after school. Why did it have to be now, of all fucking times?

“Was that the police?” You asked, confused.

Hazel shook her head frantically. “No, I just– it’s just another, uhm, project that I’m working on, it’s fine–”

“-Copy that. Units en route. Proceed with caution.”

“We have eyes on the suspects, attempting to establish a perimeter.”

“10-4, be advised, we’ve informed EMTs, and SWAT is en route. Keep us updated.”

Hazel hastily began typing, searching up the latest updates on the current news of the town. She managed to find the location of the bank robbery— which had everything Hazel feared for. Armed robbers, high-tech weaponry, and injured police officers.

“Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have skipped today,” Hazel muttered under her breath.

You paused. “Skip what?”

“I—” Hazel swallowed, inner conflict evident as she spoke. “-I think I have to go.”

“Go?” You paused. “Hazel, what is going on?”

Hazel didn’t answer. Instead, she stood up and grabbed her phone and her backpack, briskly heading towards the door. But you were faster, quickly running and positioning yourself in the path to block her way.

“I think I know what’s going on,” you claimed, your voice low and heavy.

Hazel froze. Oh no. You knew. You knew? How did you know? Had she been so obvious? Was it the back flip?

“(Y/N), I can explain–”

“-This is related to juvie, isn’t it?”

Hazel blinked.

“What?”

She stared at you, who looked incredibly serious, with lips pursed tight in worry. Hazel shook her head frantically. She wanted to kick PJ for even coming up with that excuse– now it was getting all tangled up with you and her hero work.

“No! It has nothing to do with juvie,” Hazel assured, trying to get past you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hazel.”

Hazel furrowed her eyebrows.

I kind of do.

You understood her expression as guilt. “And obviously I don’t understand fully what’s going on but if what Josie said was true and some things are happening with the people you messed with from juvie, then, I want to help you.”

You stepped closer and took her hand, holding it tight with genuinity.

“Hazel, I care about you.”

Hazel released her breath.

If you had said that in any other context, Hazel would have kissed you right there and then. Your hands felt so warm, so gentle– a bit shaky, as if you were afraid of what she would do if you let go. And your unwavering eyes– upset eyes that made it seem like her worries belonged to you too— And it took everything in Hazel to swallow back her words, gently guiding you to her bed and sitting you down.

For a moment, you thought she would stay.

But Hazel pulled away from you..

“I’ll be back soon, okay? Just please, stay here, and I’ll be back,” Hazel whispered. “I promise.”

And after a regretful look, she was gone.

“Hazel—” You called after her. “Hazel!”

Your mind began to race– where was she going? All you remembered from the police transmissions was something about the bank and the SWAT team. You reached for your phone, searching up the local news. It wasn’t hard to find articles related to the current conflict—

Masked Robbers Employ High-Tech Arsenal in Bank Heist, Defying Police Response

Bank Heist Nightmare Unfolds; Thieves Utilize Cutting-Edge Tech

Bank Robbery in Progress: Impossible to Arrest, Police Say

Police Overwhelmed in Ongoing Standoff at 1st Street National Trust Bank

This was bad. Bank robbery? High-Tech Arsenal? It sounded dangerous– more than whatever Hazel could handle, no matter how strong she was during the self-defense club. What was she going to do with these criminals? Did she owe them something? She was always writing stuff in her notebook— did it have anything to do with this?

You ignored the questions stemming from your fear– you didn’t have time to think. Hazel was out there— and she was very clearly heading to an angry, dangerous scene.

But Hazel was just a girl.

And you had to protect her.

You had to save Hazel Callahan.

Previous Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

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(Guys I don't know how a taglist works so just comment "Tag me next chapter" here BUT if you want to be tagged in all chapters, put "tag me in all upcoming chapters" on THIS POST ok???)

@valenftcrush

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms movie #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan spiderwoman #bottoms (2023)#josie bottoms #pj bottoms

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fillinforlater · 1 year

Text

Eleven to One: Needy Bold Confession

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 2888 words

Tags: ROUGH SEX, brat taming, nah fuck it, brat breaking, borderline hate sex, cursing, degredation, humiliation, spiting, spanking, slaps, pussy slaps, hardcore sex, mating press, squirting, creampie, tears, queefing, overstimulation, mutual anger, emotional stuff, FUCKED UP kinks mentioned at the end, family issues? ultimate_brat!Yujin / ultimate_brat-breaker!you

TW: ^^ (srsly, read the tags and beware of the end kekw)

Inspiration: the ending has been in planning for months, the rest is literally BFH fueled by Yujin's inability not to look insanely good and fuckable.

Credit: @sooyadelicacies, my beloved co-writer!

(A/N: yo, 100 fics. Thanks for reading!)

"Oh, now you're back."

You haven't even fully entered your apartment yet, but a venomous, annoyed shout already flies your way. You can feel Yujin tremble in rage and disgust—and she is still out of your sight, in another room.

"Yuj—"

"Did you have fun with those Unnies? Did you enjoy breeding them?"

Yujin's voice drips with deadly sarcasm, increasing both in volume and viciousness. You lay down the keys and look through the floor, into the rooms. They're all dark, not a single artificial light turned on. It's quite normal for you to return late, exhausted, either by the stress of work or the constant pounding of pussies.

Yujin's brattiness increased to a toxic level. It’s probably because of her latest comeback, the hectic promotions and an obvious lack of attention by you. Partially your fault, the breeding had to come first, but you are still the Daddy in this, your house. With deadly coldness you speak into the dark living room:

"How dare you, Yuji—"

"Fine!" she snarls back and you hear the steps of strong leather boots behind you. "If you can hook up all the time with the others, maybe I can find someone else too!"

Eyes wide in disbelief, in unbridled rage, you slowly turn to look at your girlfriend. In the faint light of the moon falling into the apartment, you see the alluring, perfectly sculpted body of Yujin. Her pale skin and a tiny white crop top reflect some of the grayish rays, but the leather jacket on her shoulders and the tiny, miniscule mini skirt fit in perfectly with the darkness. They suck in the light and your gaze, which also shifts to her full thighs and the knees-high boots of a slut that could also kick ass.

Yujin is glaring, not as the usual bratty, Daddy defying girl, no, as a woman determined to convey you had fucked around and now would suffer the consequences, while also looking like temptation personified.

"Ahn Yujin, what the fuck do you think you're doing, wearing, saying? Someone else?

“You. Fucking. Belong. To. Me."

You emphasize each word like an arrow fired straight at her. Yujin sways in place for a second. She isn't playing, even your threatening finger, pointed at her face like the barrel of a gun doesn't faze her. She steps to the side, ready to walk past you.

"I can wear what I want," she snarks and places a hand on her hip. "I can wear what I want, I can fuck who I want. And You. Don't. Own. Me."

The two of you lock eyes. Not a word is said, not a single sound made, yet the tension makes it feel like a billion voices burst out in screams of fear, anger, lust. Your fingers ball into a fist.

"Bitch," you grunt through gritted teeth. "You're mine, bitch. Yujin, you will not go out there."

Yujin reaches past you, doorknob firmly in hand, devilish smirk on her features. She applies pressure.

"What if I just do?"

The door swings open, and it swings open faster when you pin Yujin against it. You stare down at her, trapped in between both of your arms on each side of her head. Yujin bites her lip for a second, but then avoids your eyes and tries to break free from your makeshift cage.

"Is that all that you got?"

Dig your fingers into her straight hair and twist, twist, twist with each second she doesn't beg for mercy for her foolish words. Yujin's face contorts in pain, but it does not lead to her breaking, instead she opens her mouth wide to moan impossibly loud.

"Harder, Daddy!"

"Are you—"

Pull her back into the apartment by her hair and close the door.

"—fucking out of your mind? Moaning in the hallway—you have gone insane!"

"You can't even talk properly," Yujin responds, her attempts at hiding her winces futile. Her knees finally go weak when you pull her hair down. Unfortunately, you lose your grip on the straight darkness and Yujin frees herself with a quick step backwards.

"Seriously, and you want to be my Daddy. I get someone to take me hard—"

Your hand is like the claw of a falcon in dive, grabbing its helpless victim before finishing it off. In this case, Yujin. She struggles to get a breath out as your digits tighten around her throat. Without relent you push her backwards, her fierceness and the grip on her boots no match for your anger. Somewhere in your large living room, she gives up.

"Ple-please, Daddy, ca-can't breathe."

Yujin falls to her knees and you loosen your grip a little. Just as she takes in new oxygen, you make her take a harsh slap to her face. Tears jump into her eyes, the hit has her flashbanged for a moment—a moment which you use to tear open the slutty mini skirt.

"You have been bad." Your voice is deep, booming straight to Yujin's glowing face with its faint imprint of your hand. "Worse than ever before. Take your punishment!"

Rinse and spit down at her. Bangs stick to her forehead as your saliva runs down her fearful face. From her throat, a hand snakes down into her top until you find a nipple. Pinch it, twist it while doing the same to her cheek.

"You want hard?" you ask, your voice indicating that you don't accept any answer, that her response is unwanted. "Then I'll show you hard."

In a terrible shrill sound, Yujin's crop top tears open. The shocked, panicking idol tries to keep herself upright on your legs, but you kick her hands away. The only stability for her are your hands that attack her body and its beautiful, sensitive spots.

Lips, nipples, tits, they all get resounding smacks that color them in a strong red. Yujin screams, whines and finally moans, but the thought of her experiencing pleasure before you enrages you even more. Slap her flushed cheek to send a wave of numbness and paleness over them before red pain follows in the imprint of your merciless fingers.

"D-Daddy, I'm so—"

"Apology declined." Spit at her again. "You don't mean it and you're far from understanding any of this."

Twist both nipples at the same time. Your constant pulls at them might have stretched out Yujin's tits a bit more. At least they look larger. Or is it just that the image of Eunbi with her enormous bosom is still burned into your mind?

Yujin throws her head back. She arches backwards and her leather jacket finally slides down her shoulders. For the first time, you go on eye level with her—just to immediately bite into her shoulder. This time, her loud, screeching voice is stuck in the back of her throat. Will she ever get her mind back after this?

"You are mine, Yujin, you are fucking mine. You are my whore, a stupid one at that. You don't think I know exactly what I did? I fucking bred Hyewon. I'd do it again. I bred Eunbi and I'd do it again. But you, you aren't ready to be bred!"

Interrupt your rant to give Yujin more slaps across her baffled, horny, pained face.

"You're a brat! You think if I dumped my seed inside you, if I got you pregnant, you would be ready to raise a child? Hyewon, Eunbi, they are ready. You will be fucking bred when I deem it time. You don't make demands, and you don't get someone else's attention. Yujin

"I have marked you!"

"Sorry, D-Daddy, I'm so-sorry."

The first tears start to roll down, straight from Yujin's ducts over her sore cheeks until they touch your fingers at her jaw. Make her stare up through blurry eyes at your almost hateful expression. You might allow yourself to go mad, but you're tapping into feelings you shouldn't. She is still Yujin, still your girlfriend.

"You might be a confident, independent idol," you growl into her ear, forcing her down until she is laying on the floor and you can drag her skirt away from her crotch. "But you are mine, mine alone. Don't ever do this again, because we both know there is no one else for you.

"Just look at how wet you are, you kinky pain slut."

Yujin's skirt rests at her knees, legs stretched out as best as she can. Your hand rubs her crotch, slick with her juices. Her pink panties are soaked, every inch a darker color than when she bought them. Squeeze the fabric in your fist, like you would wring out a sponge, and juice runs through your fingers.

"This is insane, you're such a needy slut."

"I-I missed you, D-Daddy, I need your touch so bad."

"And still you threaten me with finding someone else, someone who could never satisfy you."

"I—ah, Daddy!"

Get rid of the skirt and give her pussy a harsh slap, shutting down her excuses instantly. Your girlfriend starts to twist and turn on the ground, her breath heavy, her tears heavier as they find the floor.

"You need to be punished, Yujin," you bluntly say with new found calmness. "I know I can make you cum with just slaps, but not tonight. Tonight you will beg me to stop, but I'll only stop when I see fit."

Another slap, on her folds, a millimeter away from her clit. Yujin yelps.

"Do you understand, whore?"

"Y-yes, Daddy," Yujin stutters and looks at you with wide, submissive eyes. "I deserve this punishment."

She bites her lips, her eyes squeeze shut. Sensually, you drag your palm gradually over her labia before you take a swing.

A wet slap when you hit the drenched panties. Yujin buckles her hips towards the punishing hand and hisses. She is keeping her voice, her reaction down... a crucial mistake.

The smacks don't stop coming. Like a merciless bombing you make the covered lips turn a painful red. Yujin breaks, screams, cries, until her voice spills all of her sins before you:

"Daddy! I'm so-sorry! Your bitch, ha-has been re-really desperate, envious—a needy toy that needs your co-cock and cum!"

Push her panties into the twitching hole a bit and urge her to continue.

"I-I love Daddy, I wa-want him first, for me, bu-but—that wo-would not be fa-fair.

"Daddy needs to breed more."

You lean down to the disheveled face and pull away a couple of dark strands that have landed in Yujin's mouth and in her eyes. You stop her murmurs with a peck on her lips, but your sweetness is short lived. Push her legs apart and fish out your cock. Rub it over her clit and interrupt her hearty moans.

"You are right. You said it yourself. My good girl was never against it, but now you decided to react like this? Ts, what a bitch!"

"I'm so-so-sorry, Daddy."

Your cockhead twitches as you push aside the wet fabric and see the sore, burning mess of Yujin's gorgeous folds. Pretend to tease her, then fill her up without warning.

"Daddy! Ah, fuck!"

Press her knees a bit further apart. Her body is ready for the taking, her insides need to get stimulated, but Yujin knows that she can't deal with your length for long. Her orgasm is certain, right around the corner. It's only natural after weeks without your cock.

"Slo-slow, please," she whimpers, fingers searching for a grip on the smooth floor. "Sen-sen-sensit—hng!"

Yujin chokes. No need to squeeze her throat this time, just give her hard thrusts into the desperate pussy. Pain on the outer lips, followed by overstimulation inside are the catalysts for an earthquake in Yujin's body. Random babbles come through drooling lips as you pump into her recklessly.

"I can't believe you came from just this!" you say with fake shock, never stopping to move your hips. Throughout you make sure that your pelvis hits the outside of her pussy, to make her cry some more.

Yujin is beyond the point of begging, hell, she doesn't even know what to beg for. It's so bad, it's good—painful punishment and absolute, undeserved, sinful bliss every second, every thrust.

Before she loses her sense of when an orgasm starts and another ends, you go slower. Yujin writhes and twitches, the high fading slowly, until you restart it with fingers violently rubbing her clit.

"Daddy-ahh!"

"Cum, baby," you growl, sweat soaking your suit from the inside. "Don't stop cumming."

More and more slickness. Juice coming out as squirt is just lube getting fucked back into her. Yujin's walls ripple, her thighs as well when you press and fold her.

Pin her arms down with yours right above the mess that was her styled hair. Pin her face down on the ground with yours, tongue fucking her numb mouth. Pin her hips down with yours and force another orgasm out of her.

"Who else can fuck your pink hole until you cum, until it's loose, until it's stuffed?"

"Daddy, only Daddy!"

Strain her muscles more, the mating press now the ultimate position to suck all the energy out of the young brat. The wet slaps of crotch on crotch are now queefs, loud, but not as loud as Yujin's guttural moans. Viciously, you press your palm on her mouth and make her hear the embarrassing, lewd sounds that come from her pussy.

"You dumb slut," you laugh in between heavy breaths, your own strength gradually declining as you near your own orgasm. "Anything you want to say?"

Yujin's eyes are glassy, filled more with lust than life. She sobs into your ear, snort running down her cheeks.

"I wa-want to be-be Daddy's number one.

"In our family. Please, Daddy! I only wan-want this. Please, I beg you!"

"Family?"

You groan out in shock. As you piston your load in massive spurts into Yujin's clenching heat, the craziest thoughts flood your mind. A family, yes, but the most immoral one imaginable.

A mommy in Eunbi, a caring leader. She knows everyone inside out and never hesitates to help. Hyewon is a different type of mommy, the one who'd like to carry a lot of children, who is submissive to the male of the house, but also smart and successful.

Minju is the beautiful, gullible sister. A klutz that everyone loves, someone who could never harm a fly. Last but not least, Yujin, the center piece, the insanely talented bratty girlfriend of yours and "sister" to Minju.

Yujin's walls get stretched by the abundance of cum you dump inside of her pussy. Your mind stretches too, comes up with even crazier thoughts. What about an ex coming into your family life, a maid to clean your apartment, a pet to play with, a neighbor to distract, or maybe more realatives? People to fill your absurd family—you're starting to lose it.

Collapse onto your girlfriend, only your elbows saving her from being painfully squashed by your tired, sweaty body. The two of you breathe heavily to find fresh oxygen in this living room now smelling of sex and sex alone.

"Are you serious about this family?" you ask after a while. Yujin dries off the last remnants of her tears and gives you obedient puppy eyes. You continue. "Like, with Eunbi and Hyewon and Minju—it's crazy. I guess we are used to crazy, but this is taking it to a whole new level."

Yujin hesitates for a second. She reaches for your face and strokes your cheekbone down to your chin with her wet fingers. Her features contort as if she is about to cry again. You try to heal her—she's cried enough tonight—and press your lips on hers. Just a peek, but Yujin sighs in relief, the last remnants of tension leaving her nude body.

"Y-yes, Daddy," Yujin whispers, "I want that. I want to be together with them, and want to be sure that I won't lose them to you and you to them. Nothing should stand in between us, I-I'll be a good girl in the family, I'll do anything for you. Daddy, please, I'm sorry, don't leav—"

Plant another kiss on the girl below you. The tremble in her voice is like a hot bath for your cold heart, like a tea in winter. It's melting you, breaks the shell that you so attentively keep up around her.

Maybe you went too far. Yujin literally looks broken, the character of the girl, no, your girl, in danger of dissolving and disappearing. Swallow your pride, God dammit.

"Yujin, Yujin, I'm at fault here. No matter how much I hated the thought of you going out in that outfit and meeting another guy, I should not have gone this far. After all…

"You're mine, Yujin. My one and only girlfriend. We'll only do and continue pursuing this family if you are okay with it. Don't change, pl-please, but also, never attempt something like this again."

You kiss Yujin's hand gently. This you can do; it's better than saying this damn word starting with 'p' and ending with 'lease'. She smiles, weakly at first, but the longer you keep eye contact, the more of her bright, mesmerizing smile appears.

She kisses the back of your hand as well, her eyes in clear devotion, her voice honest and strong.

"I'm yours, Daddy."

(A/N2: Yujin bruh 😳☠️😳)

#kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #ive smut #izone smut #ive yujin smut #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin #male reader insert #male reader smut #eleven to one universe

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