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highvern · 3 months

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When I Kissed the Teacher

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, humor

Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?

Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee

Length: ~5.2k

Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.

"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"

Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.

“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.

Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”

“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”

The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.

“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”

Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”

“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”

“How do you know they were for my class?”

You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.

“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.

“If you need paper, ask!”

Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?”

“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”

“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”

“Fine.”

With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.

Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.

—

“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”

The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.

“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”

A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous.

“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”

Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”

They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.

“What's this about?” you ask.

Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.”

“You’re kidding.”

Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.

“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”

“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.

Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.

The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.

“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”

The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.

“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.

Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.”

Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.

So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.

Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”

“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.

“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”

Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”

Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.

“Meet at the tree during recess.”

The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.

A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.

Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.

Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.

Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.

Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.

“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.

The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.

“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.

The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple.

“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.

The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.

‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’

You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention.

“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.

“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.”

“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”

“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”

Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.

You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.

When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.

Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.

Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper.

With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’

“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks.

You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”

“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”

“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”

“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”

You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”

Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book.

You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.

Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note.

The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.

We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer

As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.

Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday.

Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.

You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”

“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.”

You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.

I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer

None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful.

“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.

A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself.

He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.

Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”

More screams bounce off the walls.

“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.

The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.

You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.

“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.

“Creative strategy,” he argues.

Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks.

Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time.

“We finished first!”

“No, we did!”

“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”

The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.

The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.

“Pasta salad.”

“Wanna trade?”

“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.

“Pasta salad.”

You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.

—

After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.

Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.

“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”

“I was just…going to the bathroom!”

“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”

“It was gross!”

Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.

“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.”

You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.

“Arin, what are you doing?”

“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”

Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.

Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.

You jump back up.“What the—”

“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.

“Arin, what is going on?”

“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.

“And why are you trying to scare me?”

Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.

Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K

“Hana! What are you doing?”

“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.

Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.

“Sit. Now.”

They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.

You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.

Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.

“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”

“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.

Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.

“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.

“Thought what?”

“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”

“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”

They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’

Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.

“We can tell!”

“You’re perfect for eachother!”

“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”

“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.

It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”

“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.

Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.

“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”

“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.

“Me too.”

You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.

“How about we get you two back to class?”

“But what about Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”

“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”

The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.

“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”

All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own.

“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”

Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders.

You’ll explain everything later.

You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’

Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.

But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.

It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.

His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”

“Seriously?” you choke.

The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee.

Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.

—

Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.

He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.

“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks.

Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.

So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.

Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”

“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.

“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”

Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”

“I–My friend does!”

“Okay,” Mingyu nods.

“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”

“Well that's tough.”

“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”

“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”

“Did she run fast?”

The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.

“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”

“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”

“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”

“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”

“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”

“Poof?”

“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”

“What happened after that?”

“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”

“She knew you liked her?”

Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”

“So I should try and tell her I like her?”

“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.

Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”

“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”

Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench.

“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”

Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?”

“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”

“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure.

Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you.

Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.

“They think I have a crush on you too.”

You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago.

You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.

“Do you?” He asks.

“Do I, what?”

“Have a crush on me?”

“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”

“Damn right you do.”

Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.

Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door.

“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”

“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”

“It had to be them!”

They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.

Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout.

Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by.

“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”

“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”

Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about.

An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.

Who on earth?

As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.

“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.

You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.

“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”

He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.

“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.

Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!”

“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.

Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.

A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors.

Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit.

But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.

You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.

When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.

Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.

Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.

Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu

Permanent taglist:

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu

#svthub #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen fanfic #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #🫡 highvern

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abbyromanoff · 9 months

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YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE

PAIRINGS: GF!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 5,142

WARNINGS: Nat is ghost face, smut, killing, blood, dark!Nat, Nat has a dick, cnc, dubcon, daddy kink, begging, praise, degrading, fingering, facials, dry-humping, knives, carving, pain kink, hair pulling, manipulation, size kink, tummy bulges, blowjobs, breeding, unprotected sex, kinda dark!R, very dark descriptions of death, kinda depressed!r, mentions of cheating (no cheating actually happens tho), think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your eerie apartment was filled with complete silence. You could hear the clock on the wall slowly ticking away at your life, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You couldn’t find it in you to care if your entire existence would vanish in the spot, there was nothing left for you to live for anyways.

You clicked through the channels mindlessly, hoping to find something that could entertain you. The pizza box left on the table had three pieces left - all cold. Your girlfriend had been out for god knows how long. Your phone was next to you, taking Nat’s spot on the couch. It was nearly dead, but that didn’t matter, you didn’t get any notifications anyways.

Suddenly, after minutes of surfing through the tv, the blasting sounds of a breaking emergency filled your ears. The news reporter, a blonde woman most likely in her late thirties, stared dead into your eyes without knowledge of it. She read the words from the telegraph, a small shake in her voice as the man next to her hid a fearful gulp.

It started a few months ago, people reported dead all around the city. The only problem was that it was New York, there were small and large crimes daily; no cop, no matter how good, would ever be able to figure out who was the masked killer.

There had already been over ten found bodies, there was a small part of you who wished you were one of them. Blood would smear the walls of the victim's houses, a new letter to create a large sentence being designed ever so slowly. You wondered what they’d do if they got to each letter, would they stop? Would they be caught beforehand? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know.

Every video you found online was all about the same topic, who is this new Ghostface, as they called him. When would he strike again? Is it even a he? You didn’t bother, they were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who had such little to do in their lives that they became so invested in others. So what if they were crazy? Isn’t everyone at least a little bit?

You could hear the sound of keys dangling outside of your door and rolled your eyes, she was back.

“Hey, beautiful.” She muttered when she got near you, planting a kiss on top of your head and climbing onto the couch. She took the spot next to you, accidentally sitting on your drained phone.

“Look who’s home.” She tried placing her arm around your neck, only to feel you shuffle away. You wouldn’t even look at her, only going to stand up and grab the recycling left on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, are you really mad at me?” She attempted to pull you back down, make you sit with her so she can finally hold you; but you shrugged her off. She sighed, rolling her head back and trying to find comfort in the cheap sofa that did nothing for her.

“Why would I be mad? Because you were out all night and didn’t bother to text me or call me back? Or maybe because you smell like that bitches perfume?” You asked, sarcasm evident in your voice. She groaned and stood back up, yawning as she walked into the kitchen where you stood, back facing her as you scrubbed the dishes.

She watched you for a moment, her side leaning on the fridge as she crossed her arms over her broad chest. She waited for anything else, any other comment, but none came. Instead, she grabbed a warm beer from the six-pack box that was resting on the floor next to the counter. She easily popped open the cap and flicked it in the direction of the trash, hoping it made it in.

Your gaze traveled to the side when you noticed the glass bottle being placed next to you and let out a deep and frustrated sigh as you felt her hands rubbing your arms.

“You really think I’d fuck someone else when I have you right here?” She smirked with pure cockiness, it nearly made you want to puke. When you still did not indicate forgiveness or submitting, her smirk dropped.

“Why don’t you believe me, doll? I give you everything you ask and you still don’t trust me?” You felt her crotch poking your backside and tried to hide the goosebumps that arose to the surface. Her hands were gentle as they moved your hair to one side, letting your neck be displayed as you subconsciously leaned into her pecks. She kissed from your exposed shoulder up to your jawline, stopping there as you felt her hot breath against your cold skin.

“Nat-”

“Shh, isn’t this what you wanted?” You showed no evidence to prove her right. You wanted her to feel bad, it’s what she deserved. Who was she to think she can just take off whenever she wants, fuck who she wants, and have the audacity to get annoyed at your worries.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad, makes me just wanna- take you right here.” You felt her hands slide down your pants and dip into your panties. She audibly gasped when feeling your wetness gushing on her fingers.

“You want this, hm? You want daddy’s fingers?” Your palms gripped the ends of your countertop as her middle finger rubbed your clit slowly.

“More.” You choked out, your hips involuntarily grinding into her, chasing the pleasure. She chuckled, shaking her head and tsking.

“No, no, you need to tell me you want it, baby girl.” Your mouth opened, only to release a silent scream as she eased a finger into you. You fucking hated her, despised her, but she knew you perfectly, she knew exactly how to make you tell her how much you love her.

“I want it.” She hummed, signaling for you to continue. You groaned in annoyance, your hand traveling to your chest where you palmed your tits.

“I want it…daddy. I want you, please.” You struggled to get out through gritted teeth, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth. This was the last time she’d get away with something through fucking you, you’d tell yourself, yet you seemed to repeat those words in your mind every single time. And every single time you ended up back in this situation, orgasms rushing through you while you acted like a desperate whore for any sort of attention she’d offer.

You wondered if her other woman felt the same as you, who couldn’t despise her every move?

“That’s a good girl, you’re daddy’s good little girl, right?” You nodded, your head falling on her shoulder as you tried to find hold of something. Her cock rubbed against your skin as she fucked herself to your pleasured state.

“Cum with me. Make a fucking mess, you slut.”

Your sleeping body laid with the blanket covering only your chest to the tops of your thighs. Nat was next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling at your state. You look beautiful, you always did, but you looked even better when you were shut up for once. She wished she could just fuck that attitude right out of you.

Of course, she wasn’t cheating, no idiot would do such a thing to someone like you. You were a feisty little thing, if you ever found out she was cheating you’d beat her ass into her own grave and plead insanity - she taught you well.

“I’ll be back soon, pretty girl.” She whispered even when knowing you couldn’t hear such words. You shuffled in your sleep and she gave your forehead one last kiss before standing, finding a new pair of boxers and a bra before grabbing her clothing. She had everything she needed in her bag - her mask, outfit, and most importantly, her knife. The best part about it all was that the knife was a custom design you ordered for her for your first Christmas as a pair. It had her initials on it with a heart next to it, reminding her of your love. Your past love for her at least, everything was different now. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you couldn’t figure her out just yet. She’d tell you eventually, she wanted to, she loved nothing more than bragging about her killings, and with you, she’d finally have someone to do so with.

There was still that fear that you wouldn’t accept it though, it wasn’t exactly an easy topic to be brought up. But she couldn’t wait to prove to you that she was in fact loyal, just maybe not clean of her sins.

With one last glance, she left, closing the door behind her and walking down the stairs of the cheap building, shuffling the bag from shoulder to shoulder. She threw it in the car once she found her keys, settling herself in the driver's seat and preparing herself before driving off, her main destination in mind.

“Alright, Mar, let’s see just how well you handle it.” She mumbled to herself, her elbow slamming into the glass of the woman’s back window. She was in, the easiest part was done, and now it was just her time to have fun.

When you woke in the middle of the night, 2:43 AM reading on the clock, you searched for your lover, only to come up empty-handed. You bit back the bile in your throat and threw the blanket over you angrily, grabbing the suitcase you kept under your bed. It was meant for trips, now it was being used to kick out your girlfriend; if she even was that anymore. You didn’t know what changed her, who changed her, but you were done. If she wanted someone else then she could have them, she already used up all the chances you offered her.

Then, there was the sound of the keys rattling, she was back for the last time. You stood up with the luggage in hand, throwing the door open as you were planning to be greeted by a hickey-stained Nat with more excuses pooling out of her, but there was no one to be seen.

“Get the fuck out here, Nat.” You waited for something, but there was no sign of her. You noticed her keys resting on the ground in front of the door, covered in blood. You gulped, taking a step back from nothing.

“Nat? Babe, where- where are you?” You yelled out, your head turning in all directions to look for her. You still found no one, it was pitch black, and nearly impossible to find any sighting of anything besides the luggage by your feet. Your hands were sweaty as your body was stuck in place, you couldn’t move.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Nat, get out here right now.” Hands landed on your shoulders, a low whisper coming to your ear.

“Boo.” You jumped, turning around only to find a person dressed in all black besides their mask. The face covering looked like the design of a ghost, one that a child would draw as their mother praised them for what a good job they did, even if they knew it was horrible.

The man twirled the knife in his hands, watching your fear grow in your eyes and motions.

“Aww, did I scare you, baby girl?” You were able to really listen in on their voice this time, it sounded familiar. You suddenly regretted everything you had said earlier on, you weren’t ready to die just yet.

“No need to be scared, it’s just me.” The man went down on one knee in front of you, knife still in hand near their leg as his hand ventured to his mask, removing the plastic only to see,

“Nat?” She chuckled darkly, reaching up to switch on the light that was sitting on a small table next to you.

“What the fuck was that?” She tried to reach out for your face, only to be pushed away; she wasn’t having that. She gripped your arm tightly, your wrist starting to ache the more she squeezed. She took pleasure in seeing such pain and fear in your features, it somehow made you all the more beautiful.

“Nat- stop it, you’re hurting me.” She smiled darkly as you spoke.

“Perfect.” You thought this was the end, she was going to kill you, your girlfriend was going to kill you. But there seemed to be no move made to do so.

“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with already.” She let go of your arm and you noticed the tensity in her jaw increasing, her head turning just enough for her darkened glare to look all the more dangerous.

“Oh, baby, you really think I’d kill you? There’s no point, it’s not like anyone would miss you.” The words hurt even more than your wrist in the moment, you bit back a remark, choosing to play your cards right and not argue with the woman now pointing a knife at you.

“No, I’m not going to kill you, we’re just gonna have a bit of fun together, alright?” The cold metal pressed against your neck, the sharp tip nearly causing you to leak blood. You whimpered the further she went, your skin barrier breaking as a red substance slowly dripped down your neck.

“Fuck, you don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this, I’ve been just dying to see you dripping in blood all at the hands of my knife.” You didn’t move, didn’t speak, the fear of what she’d do to you if so indulging you.

“You know, I was planning to come home to my gorgeous little girl laying in bed, ready to take me whenever I want. But instead, I came home to a suitcase of my clothes ready for me, you were gonna kick me out, huh?” You slowly nodded, wetness pooling in your eyes and your shorts. You squeezed your eyes shut in shame, it was so wrong to be needy after such things, she was holding a deadly object to your body and you were still turned on, were you just as crazy as her?

“But seeing that look in your eyes I- fuck, I just wanted you so much more. I was going to tell you, but I- I didn’t know how you’d react, you know?” She was practically manic as she spewed jumbled-up words, her eyes wide and her laugh being as haunted as her soul.

“I mean, just watching Maria on the floor, begging for her life to be saved- it just made me want to shove this knife so deep inside of her and watch as her life slowly drained from her eyes until there was nothing left.” Your own eyes widened at her words, trying to scramble as far away from her as you could. There was no escape though, you were pressed against the wall and she was surrounding every part of you, including your mind.

“Don’t run from me, baby.” She started. “All of this- all of it would’ve been prevented if it wasn’t for you. God, you’re just such a fucking slut, whoring yourself out to practically everyone. Do I not do enough for you? I fucking killed for you and that’s not enough?” You knew this was all the manipulation tactics that she noticed seemed to work with you, and it was working. You were ready to spit out apology after apology, praying for forgiveness, just like all of her victims.

She quickly reached for her bag, and you wanted nothing less than to know what was in there. She grabbed a small book, opening it to show the multiple photos of bloodied victims fallen at her hands. She looked proud, excited, all to show you her work.

“Maybe these people would’ve still been alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tore your eyes away quickly, you couldn’t stand seeing such brutality. It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the one who hurt them, you told yourself. But there was that nagging thought, what if she did kill them because of you? Sure, you flirted, you had old flings but they weren’t contacted since you started your long relationship with Nat.

“Maria didn’t deserve this, none of them did.” You sobbed out, flinching when you felt her hand on your cheek. It was a soothing matter, one meant to calm you, but it did everything but. Suddenly, the same hand connected harshly with the skin, causing it to instantly redden in pain.

“They wanted you, baby, you should’ve known that. You think I didn’t pick up on Maria’s glances at your ass or these, perfect breasts of yours?” She groped your body with desire, shuddering out a breath while doing so.

“Of course, you didn’t notice, you thought she was just being ‘nice’, so fucking stupid.”

“And Wanda? She had a husband, Nat, a family.” Instead of giving you the response you wanted, an explanation to it all, she just continued to tease your nipples with the pad of her thumb through the fabric.

“You know I’d never kill you, right?” It took you a moment before you could get out a hesitant nod, struggling to fully believe her. You always trusted her, but times changed, and so did she.

“I like hurting people, it excites me. But you, I could never do such a thing, I never want to see you in pain, pretty girl.” She murmurs, moving her free hand to her crotch where she rubbed herself thoroughly.

“I just- you ever get so angry, so sick of someone, you just wish you could, like, kill them? Sometimes when we get into those heated arguments, I just wonder how much you’d be willing to beg me not to hurt you.” You watched as she slowly slid the black suit over her head, revealing her black sweatpants. She lowered them to her knees, and let her boxers make way to your vision.

“I’d never act on it, but with others, you don’t need to care about how much they mean to you, because their life costs me nothing but annoyance. I’d kill every last soul on this planet just for you, all you’d have to do is ask.” She grasped your hand, leading it to her confined cock as you palmed her length. Your breathing was ragged, shaky as you refused to look her in the eyes. You knew if you stared too deep into that emerald glaze, there would be no stopping. You wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you saw the care hidden deep inside of her.

“If I let you touch me, will you stop?” The killings are what you meant, but there was a hidden meaning in the words.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be able to, love.” There was a small whimper escaping her lips as you dipped your hand inside her underwear, grasping her cock in your hands as you stroked with a back-and-forth motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were sick, insane. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. But it felt so good, there was no stopping it. You wanted to see her face contort into pleasure, you wanted to see what she’d do to you. Would she treat you the same as Maria? Would she kill you when you were done? Did she mean it when she sputtered those words? You didn’t want to die just yet, you used to think you did, but that was until you faced death with open arms. How could a criminal, a serial murderer, a psychopath look so perfect? She still looked the same, but there was blood covering her hands and her red hair was messy, her forehead covered in trails of sweat.

“I’m- God, you’re such a good little girl, so fucking perfect.” She noticed the way your thighs clenched, rubbing together as your hips jutted into the air.

“Does someone like when daddy compliments them? Tells them how good they’re doing?” You nodded quickly, your mouth aching to land on her crotch.

“Yeah? You like being a good girl? Or do you like being a good little slut for me?” Both. The answer was both. You wanted nothing more than to prove your worth to her, but you wanted her to treat you like you had none.

“I’m cumming, baby, I’m fucking cumming.” She clenched her jaw tightly and groaned deeply as continuous spurts of cum coated your face. She looked down, grasping your hair in her hands to create a ponytail before forcing herself into your mouth. She could feel the salty tears that had traveled down to your lips spreading amongst her dick, making her grin.

“Swallow daddy’s cum, little girl.” She whispered, dragging you up and down as you gagged around her. Some dribbled down your chin, but she didn’t mind, and neither did you. It had been so long since she felt the warmth that was your mouth, you had been refusing to have sex with her until earlier today. When she finally got her hands on you, it felt magical, like a long-awaiting finale to a show.

“Your throat is so fucking tight,” She said. “I know you must be so wet, you like it when I’m rough, don’t ya’?” She extracted her length from your mouth, causing you to let out a multiple of deep breaths. She tossed your loose shorts to the side after ripping them in half, her biceps flexing in the short moment it took to do so.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Y/N.” She rarely ever used your name, it was almost odd to hear such a thing. She got ahold of your thighs, pulling you forward and, if it wasn’t for her your hand massaging the part of your scalp she tugged, your head would’ve roughly slammed against the wooden floor.

Your thighs were then lifted to meet your stomach, her cock standing tall as she guided herself to prod at your hole. She rubbed up and down your folds, moaning lowly at the wetness coating you. She pressed herself teasingly against your clit, watching as your lips twitched upward.

“Nat- condom.”

“Oh, no, baby, I have a little something planned for tonight.” She eyed you with a soft smile as if it was the most obvious thing, you wished it didn’t turn you on as much as it did.

“You giving me that look isn’t going to help your case, it only makes me want to fuck you even more.” She stated when you gulped, giving her a nervous and feared look. This wasn’t your Nat, this was someone else, but you loved her just as much.

“F-fuck, you’re so warm and- tight!” She mumbled as her tip slowly opened you up. It was difficult to fit close to half of her inside of you, you didn’t know how you’d manage all of her. She held girth to her, and she was proud to point it out. She loved noticing how tiny you were compared to her, how her cock seemed to stretch you out more so than anything ever has before. No toy had come close; you became dependent on her length to fulfill your needs.

Your shirt soon joined your shorts as she tore it off you, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing as if it were a stress ball.

“Don’t do that. You’re a big girl, you can take it.” You whined pitifully, but her gaze was only filled with lust as her skin managed to press against yours. You had never once been able to take every last inch of her, but you were so wet, more than you’ve ever been. This side of her brought out something inside of you, something so shameful, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But Nat did. She could sense how badly you had been wanting to spice things up for months, it was almost starting to turn out to be boring between you two, and she never expected you to act so compliant.

“Daddy, you’re so big.” She rested both arms at either side of your head, staring down at you with an intensity you longed for. You could see how badly she was trying to hold back from hurting you, but she wanted to so much. The thought of you covered in your blood only made her cock throb and pulse. She leaned down, letting her mouth ghost against yours, causing you to pull her forward to connect yourself with her. Her tongue poked at your lips, begging to get a taste of you. You didn’t let her, only pulling back with your eyes slowly trailing from her parted lips to her forest-green eyes.

“Fuck me, Nat.” She never liked her name all that much, she thought it was basic. But hearing it come from your mouth with your voice, it did things to her.

She pulled her hips back, her length sliding out of you, only to fuck itself back into you. Your tits jumped with your body as the thrust, her gaze couldn’t leave them.

She was in a deep state of arousal, even worse than you. And her knife was right there, it would’ve been so easy to repeat her actions onto her own body, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t care if she was a killer, you still loved her, you were as sick and gross as her. If anything, the thought fascinated you. You always enjoyed gore movies, and she was more than ecstatic when she found someone who shared her deep love for such acts, and you thought it was normal at first. That was until she asked you if you ever thought about doing the same things they did. You instantly said no, a little too quickly. Nat knew you were far from innocent, but she loved this part of you more than anything. You accepted her, even if she was insane.

“That feel good?” She asked, her voice coming out in stutters and cracked moans. You had released a loud whimper when she hit that spot deep inside of you, your nails clawing at her skin. She liked the pain, it sent a thrill through her body.

You felt a sharp poke against the skin of your thigh, looking down only to find her weapon covered in the blood of a previous fool, and now you were just the same.

“Nat-”

“Shh, just- shut up and take what I give you, alright?” She let the knife cut into you, leaving red liquid behind as it trailed down your body. It was warm, yet it still sent chills down your spine.

“You look so beautiful with my design, sweetheart.” She had carved an ‘N’, waiting and hoping for the end result where it’d scar your body forever. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, maybe if she hadn’t lied to the psychiatrists, she’d know.

“You think I should do the same thing…here?” Your skin lied a red trail that followed up until your neck, stopping short as she noticed your breathing patterns change.

“I could easily kill you, and no one would know.” She chuckled, bringing her face to rest on your shoulder, her nose against your neck as she inhaled your sweet scent. The knife pressed down a little harder, letting the skin break as a droplet fell.

“I know you won’t.” You whispered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You were close, so close. You needed her, anything from her.

“Smart girl you are, hm?” Her hips were starting to lose rhythm the longer she went, it was growing more difficult to keep the same pace. The coil in her stomach had been begging to be let free, to finally relax as she came.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded, moans consuming you making it impossible to speak. She finally leaned back, placing her palms on your stomach where a bulge appeared. She gasped, drawing in your attention as you hesitantly followed her vision. You bit your lip in hunger when noticing what caught your girlfriend’s attention, you had found her loving the way she could overpower you at any moment; taking you however she wanted because you couldn’t deny it. She adored being larger than you, it fueled that pride hidden inside of her.

“Oh, daddy must be stretching you out so, so much, huh? You’re just a cute little slut, so small compared to me.”

“Please-”

“Please, what?” She felt her peak rising further, she needed to release.

“Please cum inside me.” She was already planning to whether you wanted it or not, but seeing your dislike to the thought of children or pregnancy, she thought you’d never let her do so. She grinned, throwing her head back as she tried to muster out a response.

“I am, baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. Cum with me.” She felt your juices coating her length as your legs shook violently. Pumps of her release shot into you, a deep groan caving its way out of her.

“You’ll look so sexy carrying my babies.” She had the image planted deep in her mind, she wanted to make it a reality.

“Yes! Please- God, fuck!” She didn’t stop after your first orgasm, causing your sensitivity to grow until you couldn’t take such abuse anymore. The blood on your skin had dried, and red hand marks that would soon bruise made way to your vision.

“You’re okay, just relax.” You couldn’t believe it, the murderer you had spent nights praising for their impressive kill count and multiple days fearing was your girlfriend, and you didn’t even hate her for it.

“I told you, I’ll kill anyone for you. I want us to get away from the city, find someplace to lie low for a little bit, at least until they cross me out as a suspect. We can be happy, we can have everything you’ve always wanted, together.” She kissed the back of your hand, letting them leave a pattern up your arm until she reached your face, leaving a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

You weren’t ready for this, you didn’t even have money. And there were so many things that could go wrong, but wasn’t it worse in a place like this? There, you’d have a knowing of where Nat would be, she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. But would she ever really stop? Or was she just saying that to ease your worries? You didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. You’d always have Nat, in any way possible.

“Okay.”

2K notes · View notes

doobea · 5 months

Text

✰⋆⁺★ I SURRENDER ALL OF ME ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: choso takes a lot of things seriously - this includes childhood promises and vows.

contents: very fluffy, sfw, no curse AU, childhood friends to lovers, gn!reader, death jokes thrown around, umm just imagine the rest of the curses as humans LOL, sorry mahito - ur interesting word count: 1.4k a/n: bye this meant to be a small drabble but ended up being semi lengthy... sorry i havent been active as much ;;

Two fruit punches, a full bag of grapes, and four sandwich halves in a colorful lunch box sit between you and Choso. It isn't until it's down to one fruit punch, half of bag of grapes, and three sandwich halves left that you decide to build up the courage to blurt out a burning question.

"Do you want to get married?"

Your best friend doesn't bat an eye at your inquiry as he finishes the remainder of his drink and rips off a piece of crust from his meal, tossing bits of it into the pond in front of him. The moment a flock of ducks fight over the the pieces, he answers.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Yeah, but—" Heat rushes to your cheeks as you force the next words. "Do you want to get married to me?"

This time, Choso turns his head and tilts it, eyebrows creasing and the birthmark on his nose scrunches just ever so slightly. The eight year old looks mildly offended that you even asked that.

"I only want to be with you," he proclaims with all the vigor that a child has. Then, with another chunk of crust thrown in the pond, Choso continues with all seriousness. "But you need a ring to propose, right?"

"I..." you trail off, fumbling with your empty juice box as you try and search for the right words.

To be honest, you didn't expect that response from Choso. If he isn't interested, he would've your question, and that would be that. It isn't like you two can actually get married anyway. And yet, watching Choso fiddling around with the patch of grass next to him, examining and ripping the longest blade he can find, you can't help but to anticipate a response from him.

Choso looks satisfied with himself when he raises the makeshift ring in your face. You only had a split second to inspect the 'jewelry' before his voice rings in your ears. "Will you marry me?"

You find yourself answering without much second thought. "Yes."

Both of you hold onto your breaths as he slides it on. It's not the perfect size, a bit too big for your finger, but there's a little bow at the top that's tied with a small yellow dandelion. Your chest swells with happiness and did the next thing that an eight year old would do - you lean in and press your lips to Choso's cheek, the way you've seen your parents do to each other hundreds of times. When you pull back, Choso is staring, cheeks inflamed.

You smile brightly at him.

You're going to kill Satoru and Suguru.

They just had to decide that a maid and butler themed cafe wasn’t going to raise enough money for the college fundraiser this year. They both just had to decide to set up another booth, and not just any booth — a kissing booth.

And Satoru, for some reason, thought it would be funny to put you in charge.

You're not entirely sure how the rest of the elective board approved of this idea. And you're still not entirely sure why you have to wear a stuffy uniform along with it.

You're going to kill Suguru first, and then give Satoru a slow painful death.

"Pfft, oh my god!"

No, scratch that. You're going to kill every student that comes up to this dumb booth. The first victim starting with Mahito.

Your stomach churns as you watch him and his little group of friends trail behind him, edging closer to the booth with a wide grin plastered across his face.

It takes every fiber in your body to not physically lunge forward and punch him. Getting this booth shut down not even ten minutes in would have you running around the track field as part of Suguru's punishment. You're ignoring the sweat trailing down the back of your neck and pray that Mahito isn't serious about putting his lips anywhere near you.

"Fuck off," As long as it's not physical, you plan to verbally assault him as much as you can.

You force yourself to look pass Mahito and sneer at the rest of his friends. It doesn't surprise you to see all of their lips quivering, trying their best to not just burst out laughing in the middle of the campus courtyard, which they're all failing miserably at. All of them are giggling to themselves like middle schoolers but one man.

His eyes catches yours, looking mildly unfazed before tired eyes suddenly widening at recognition. You have to do a double take and, upon closer inspection, you let out a small noise at the sight of the distinguishable birthmark on his face.

"Choso?" You haven't seen him since he moved away several years ago. Who knew he would've ended up at the same university as you, let alone hang out with an annoying guy like Mahito.

Before he could even respond back, Mahito begins fishing for something in his bag. Then, your worst nightmare comes to life as he pulls out a fucking wallet. You're mentally preparing yourself to throw up on the spot, then calling your club presidents announcing your leave as treasurer, then killing yourself. That is, until Choso slams down a couple of bills of his own.

You take a moment to process what just happened before staring bewilderedly at your childhood friend, who just kept a straight look.

"What the fuck?" The voice comes from Mahito.

"That's cheating," Choso begins and now you're really confused.

"You guys are dating?" Another voice chimes in, you think it belongs to Jogo.

With a firm head shake, Choso responds, "Married, actually."

You can't tell if this is his way of protecting you from Mahito but you go along with the act anyway.

"Married." Mahito repeats slowly.

"Married." Choso confirms.

Then, the other male points a finger at your direction. "Since when?"

You smile. "Since we were kids."

You awkwardly clear your throat, stuffing your uniform in your bag as you stride out of the bathroom back in your regular clothes. Choso greets you right outside with a subtle smile, signs of his friends from earlier gone and the small shoebox in his hands, the one specially for today's event, has a total of twenty dollars. Twenty of his dollars and zero kisses were made.

According to Suguru math, that's, like, ten miles around the track field.

"Thank you, I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there," you finally speak after he offers to walk you back to your dorm.

"Technically it would've been cheating," Choso jokes nonchantlanly.

You snort, shoving the male just slightly along the empty gravel path. "Well, you're a terrible husband because I haven't heard from you in over a decade."

Choso winces, rubbing his neck and mumbling a soft, "Sorry, I forgot to ask for your house number before my family moved."

Choso has always been relatively quiet as a kid, and even now you can still see that he keeps to himself by some of his habits, but your days spent throughout middle school to high school were relatively much quieter without him by yourself. Thankfully, he saved your ass today, so you suppose you can spare Choso's life for now.

"Social media is free, you know?" You tease back.

He laughs. "Didn't get my first phone until second year of high school, and that year I found out I had a half-sibling."

You stretch your eyes wide, almost tripping over your feet, and then your gapping mouth evolves into a smile. "Okay, wow—that's huge news, I guess I can forgive you for that."

"He's a senior in high school, might be thinking about coming here next year."

"He similar to you?"

Choso shakes his head and looks fondly ahead. "Livelier. Kinda like jock but one of the nice ones."

After rounding a corner, you speak again, eyes now glued to his messy pigtail buns. "Your hair is cute, you've always kept it down as a kid."

Choso self-consciously runs a hand over his scalp, tints of pink paint over his face. "Thanks."

You decide to be bold and interlock your arm with his. You watch closely as his body flinches at the contact but he doesn't pull away, doesn't say a word.

Your stomach does a few threatening somersaults. "I thought about you almost everyday, you know?"

For a moment, Choso says nothing and you're starting to wonder if you're going to be left in suspense but, after he reaches to the steps of your dorm building, he says, "Me too."

You elicit a sigh of relief and tug his arm closer. "So, you planning to start walking me to classes and getting lunch every day now?"

Choso brushes the hair out of your eyes before resting his forehead against yours. "If that's what will make me a good husband, then yes."

#doobea writing #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #MY BOYFRIEND <3

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amhrosina · 1 year

Note

matt would love this especially if frank and reader got it for him for a special occasion or just for fun!!

Spelling Out 'I Love You'

(Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock)

Summary: It's Matt's birthday, and you and Frank make sure the day is extra special for him.

(Warnings: this is the fluffiest of all fluff pieces i've ever written, someone better be writing matt a healthy and happy relationship in dd born again!!!!!!!, i will RIOT if he has to be a sad boy for three seasons again!!!!)

A/N: Do y'all realize how hard it is to find pictures of frank where he's both smiling and not bruised up all over his face??? Nearly impossible!!! Anyways, I have no idea what those braille cookies say in the pictures, so I hope it's not something insane or rude lol enjoy this short ficlet!

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

“Did you get it?”

Frank’s excitement overwhelmed his ability to say hello, apparently. You scoffed, shoving the box into Frank’s hands before pulling your gloves, hat, and scarf off. It was unreasonably chilly for October in New York City, and you were already tired of the cold weather.

“Of course, I got it,” you grumbled, pretending the adoring expression on Frank’s face wasn’t thawing your icy mood rather quickly.

“And you checked the translation, right? It’s accurate?” He opened the lid, checking the contents of the box.

“Yeah,” you replied, shrugging your coat off, “It’s accurate. I checked it myself before they added the final touches.”

“It looks great.” Frank nodded, briefly meeting your gaze before turning back toward the brownies. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

You stepped into Frank’s arms, snuggling into his warmth. His chin found its home on the top of your head as you closed your eyes and breathed in his scent.

“I think he’ll love it.” You murmured, glancing toward the clock on the wall. “He’ll be home any minute now.”

Sure enough, the familiar scuff of Matt’s shoes on the floor announced his arrival ten minutes later, and you and Frank struggled to act casual when he stepped into the kitchen.

“Hey, birthday boy.” You smiled, grasping one of his outstretched hands. Frank quickly grabbed his other hand, gently pulling Matt to a halt in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hey, old man.” Frank grinned, and Matt rolled his eyes.

“You’re older than me, Frank.” Matt remarked, doing his best to not look too concerned at the sudden rush of affection from you and Frank. All three of you were touchy people, but it was usually in subtler ways. “What’s all this?”

You and Frank couldn’t contain your excitement, pulling him toward the counter where his surprise was waiting to be opened. Frank gently set Matt’s hand down on the box.

“Open it.” He encouraged, looking between your amused gaze and Matt’s unmoving hand.

Matt slowly lifted the lid of the box, instantly overwhelmed with the sweet scent of chocolate and sugar. He smiled broadly, tapping the side of the box with the tips of his fingers.

“You guys got me brownies?”

“Yeah, but that’s not all.”

You gently lifted his hand again and pushed it toward the top of the brownies, where little chocolate balls were arranged in an all too familiar pattern. Matt’s confused frown morphed into shock when he realized what you and Frank had done. He ran his fingers over the message a few times, gasping when he got to the end. He did it again, swallowing down the rush of emotions that were making their way up his throat.

Written in braille, across his favorite type of brownies, was the message:

“Happy Birthday. We love you.”

“Oh.” He breathed, blinking away tears before they could be shed. “Oh, that’s lovely.”

“Do you like it?” You asked, glancing toward Frank, who had a similar, hopeful expression on his face.

Matt swallowed thickly, then swallowed again, nodding.

“I love it.” He murmured as a shy smile overtook his face. “I’ve never gotten braille baked goods before.”

“It was Frank’s idea.”

“Careful, Frank.” Matt teased. “People might start to think you’ve gone soft.”

Frank chuckled, cradling Matt’s head. “Let them.” He murmured before pressing his lips to Matt’s in a soft kiss.

When they pulled away, noticeable tears had gathered under Matt’s eyes. You were quick to kiss them away.

“We love you, Matty.” You breathed.

Frank asked, “Do you want to open your presents now or after?”

“After what?” Matt tilted his head. “Wait, there are more presents?”

“You didn’t think this was it, did you?” You asked, smiling.

“This is plenty.” Matt chuckled. “After what?” He asked again.

Frank’s gaze turned molten, and you were sure Matt could feel the tension shifting in the air. “C’mon.” He pulled Matt toward the bedroom, tugging you along too.

“There’s more?” He asked again to no one in particular.

You giggled. “There’s so much more, Matty. You’re in for a long night.

Tag List (1/2):

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @callsign-mama @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy @theesexystallion @scoliobean @myguiltypleasures21 @dnxgma @evyiione @gpenguin666 @desert-fern @day-dreaming-goddess @rayray787 @ginnysculture @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @alina02 @thedevilwearsblack @violet-19999 @shoxji @layazul @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter

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icycoldninja · 2 months

Note

Hiiii hope you're doing well! I have a cold and wanted to request Dante taking care of a sick fem S/O. Thank you!

Oh no, I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you get better soon, and that you enjoy. 💜

Caught a cold (Dante x Sick!Fem!Reader)

You woke up that morning with a hot, flushed forehead, an awfully sore, scratchy throat, and a runny nose. You didn't have to take your temperature to know you'd come down with a cold.

"Dante," You grumbled, coughing. "Could you bring me some tissues and medicine?" There was silence for a few moments, then the sound of rapid footsteps nearing your room. The door suddenly flew open, revealing your boyfriend Dante, with three plastic bags full of medicine bottles, ten boxes of tissues, and a mini garbage can.

"Here ya go, babe," He said, shuffling into your room and laying the items out on your bed. "I got Ibuprofen, Nyquil, cough drops, and, uhh...aspirin. Here, take these." He shoved two Ibuprofen tablets into your hands and handed you a bottle of water. Once you'd taken the medicine, he popped open the cap of a Nyquil bottle and measured out 30ml of the medicine. "Alright, take this too." You took the bottle cap/measuring cup from him and reluctantly gulped it down, wincing at the medicine's bitter taste. "There ya go," Dante praised, as you washed down the gross liquid with a capful of water. "Now get some rest, ok?" You nodded, snatching a tissue from the box and blowing your nose into it. Dante chuckled, leaned down, and planted a kiss on your forehead. "Rest up, ok, babe? I'll be right back."

He zipped out of the room, leaving you lying there, exhausted. You let out a soft sigh and flopped backwards, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders and blowing your nose one more time before closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep. You were interrupted about 20 minutes later by a bizarre, horribly loud scraping sound, like a heavy object being dragged across the floor. You wearily raised your head from the pillow and peered at the doorway, shocked to find Dante attempting to lug your TV stand through the doorway.

"Dante, what are you doing?" You groaned, rolling over.

"Just trying to get some entertainment set up, y'know." He grunted, and with one final yank, the wide TV slid through the doorway. "Got it!" He announced, pushing the piece of furniture over to the wall in front of your bed. "Now, wait right there and lemme get the TV." Before you could reply, he was gone, having returned to the living room for the TV. He came back 5 minutes later, holding the TV remote in his mouth. After mounting the TV on its stand and plugging in all the required cables, he leaped into bed beside you, took the remote out of his mouth, and flicked on the TV.

"Dante...why?" You rasped, your words immediately followed up by a series of loud coughs and sneezes.

"Aw, c'mon, you and I both know that sleep is impossible when you're sick, especially when your medicine hasn't kicked in yet," Dante said, sighing and hooking an arm around your shoulder. "Besides, I can't leave you all alone when you're sick, you'll get lonely! Gotta keep my baby company, and I have a low attention span, so..." He let out a low snigger and pressed a kiss to your cheek before rearranging the covers for you. "You can go ahead and try to sleep if ya want, I'll keep the volume low." You shook your head; Dante was right, you didn't really feel sleepy yet.

"Nah, I'll stay awake. Put on something interesting, will you?" Dante nodded, grinning. "Sure thing, babe."

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atinylittlepain · 3 months

Text

Me Too

college!steve harrington x f!oc

part of the girl boy series

18+ references to smut, idiots in love, emotional constipation, strep throat, lovey doveys in general

...............................................

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s kind of interesting, don’t you think?”

“The colors are nice.”

“Nice.”

“What? They are. And hey, Robin told me to tell you to stop putting your name down on every silent auction sheet. She said people are noticing that one Andy Broder is trying to sweep the whole show.”

“Oh please, Steve, I can’t help it. The sad student artists look at me with their sad student artist eyes and I feel bad if I don’t put my name down, sue me for having a heart.”

“Can you afford to have a heart?” She scoffs, a little tug back when he tries to take the wine glass out of her hand, though she relents, her smile simpering while he finishes off the last sip.

“I’m only getting things started. Ten dollars, tops. I doubt I’ll win any of the pieces.” He’s hoping she’s right, because he’s not sure how they’ll get even one of the pottery sets she bid on back to her place if she does win. Sets of plates and bowls and goblets, because apparently this semester’s pottery class was really, really into making goblets. Robin has a set of two bowls and two goblets up for auction. Steve put down twenty dollars on it, to which Robin scoffed and told him you don’t count, you’re family.

“I guess we’ll see if your logic works.” Maybe he’s being a little much, his hand curling around the plush of her waist, wrapped up in a dark knit dress that’s scattering his mind just a little, pulling her into his side and soft murmuring want another glass? And her humming no, long walk home and all, her palm smoothing out beneath his sternum, warm brown nail polish that he watched her put on in a curl on her couch. Maybe a little much when he tips his chin to press a kiss just beneath her ear, warm rasp of did I tell you how good you look? She sighs, laughs a little, how very male gaze of you, baby, but thank you, and that thank you is soft, slight, a secret that makes his heart feather and fret against his ribs for a breath.

He gets to be a little much now, because they’re official now, a thing now. Had the conversation last weekend and he nearly pulled his hair out working up the nerve to tell her yes, old fashioned, yes, he wants that old fashioned thing with her, wants to be hers, and wants her to be his. And her eyes had widened, a slight blanching, before he realized that he was making it sound like the ring and the dress and the suit thing, quick back pedal, not quite that, at least not yet. But he left the not yet part out. And she had smiled, softened, collected his wrists in her hands to stop him from tugging at his hair, her thumbs stroking the quick jump of pulse beneath his skin. Yes, she told him, she had been wanting the same thing too, with him. So yeah, he gets to be a little much, his palm lingering on the hilt of her spine as they walk around the gallery, both of them tucking into the other. And when she ends up winning three of the bowl, plate, goblet sets she bid on for a grand total of thirty dollars, they take turns hauling the recycled moving box full of ceramics, switching off at every block and laughing at themselves, breaths puffing out like curled smoke in the cold night air.

“Eddie wouldn’t want a goblet, would he?”

“Actually, considering he takes his diet coke in a coffee mug, I think he’d probably be into it.”

“Great, he can have three of them.” They leave the box next to her front door, shrugging out of coats and shoes, intent on sleep after a late night that really shouldn’t have been a late night for either of them. Finals, the end of the semester, and it’s certainly feeling like it. He doesn’t mind though, all but setting up permanent shop with her in her apartment. Has a few hangers in her closet, and a drawer in her dresser, and Sylvia doesn’t even pay him any mind these days, padding right past him up to the box and sniffing a bit disinterestedly at a bowl.

No classes for the last week, just prep for exams and deadlines. They’ve spent the majority of their time in a quiet comfort on her couch studying and working on their respective coursework, only breaking for light touches and meals and the occasional walk amongst melting and refreezing snow.

All this time with her is making him a little giddy, a little greedy, already feeling an anticipatory ache for when he leaves on Friday with Eddie and Robin to drive back to Hawkins for the holidays. He had thought about it, he had, but he’d firmly decided it’d be too much to ask. Only just a thing, only just official, and he didn’t want to overstep, come on too strong, too bold. Learned that somewhere along the way, and he can’t remember whose bed he was warming when he did.

So he’ll go back to Hawkins, and Andy will go back to Boston, but not for another week because the less time I spend there, the better. He can understand that.

“What do you have tomorrow?”

“Oral exam for my global inequality class, and a paper to turn in for mental health policy. You?”

“Business policy and strategy paper, and a calc exam.”

“Hmm, better you than me, babe.” Steam starting to rise and fog in her bathroom and both of them stripped down to threadbare underwear, not trying to impress each other any more. She presses a quick kiss to the round of his shoulder and murmurs something that sounds like almost done into his skin. And he feels pathetic, pitiful over the fact that almost done makes his heart pinch and pull into a sort of nauseous swoop. It’s ridiculous, he knows, only a few weeks, he knows that too. But still, but still, he doesn’t want to be almost done.

Moving over and around each other in the bathroom, skin still damp from their shower, that oatmeal and chamomile soap she uses flooding his senses, and it feels like the most natural thing, like it has been like this all along. He lets his palm run up and down the track of her spine, feeling the notches through the thin fabric of her t-shirt while she sits up in bed, proofing her paper one final time, printed, with red pen poised. She won’t find anything to fix, he knows, worked hard on it all of yesterday and then they both trudged to the library to type up their respective work and print it out. And when she has decided that she is content with her work, she gets up and tucks it into a folder that she tucks into her bag. He watches the plush shake of her thighs, one-track mind and he’ll admit it, his hands finding bare skin when she comes back to bed, back to him. Curling close under the covers and maybe, maybe, he holds her a little closer, tucks his face into the stitching of her throat and breathes, and breathes to keep himself from saying words that wouldn’t be fair to say right now, not when he’s leaving tomorrow night.

They both sleep hard and late, and he’s pretty sure she meant to be up earlier, little snit, little snap when he wakes her up, her shoulders hiking up to her ears and she’s already out of bed and out of his hands before he can say anything. And he’s not sure what this is, a cool prickle of worry simmering and slipping up his spine as they both move through getting dressed, distant and silent and her hardly looking at him, and he doesn’t know what happened in the last twelve hours for her to change so much. Stress, he tells himself, she’s stressed, and frankly so is he, and they’re both tired, and they’re both running late, and that must be it.

“Are you gonna be around this afternoon?” She asks it light as air as she’s wrapping a scarf around her throat, more business associate than anything else and it almost makes him laugh.

“I, well, yeah, unless you don’t want me to be? But I’m leaving tonight, so.” The so feels lame even as he says it, maybe even a bit bitchy, her brows pulling together and then smoothing out all over again, unreadable.

“Okay, I know. So I’ll see you later then?” And there’s little room for an answer, already out the door, and ushering him out too, and he feels like he’s going to throw up even as his body does all the necessary things, down the stairs and out the door and it’s too late to say anything other than mmhmm because she’s already walking in the other direction to her exam that’s on that side of campus, away from his exam on this side of campus.

No, not how it went yesterday. Yesterday, he had almost been late to his accounting exam because they just couldn’t quite seem to let go of each other, slipping and skidding over icy sidewalks all wrapped up and laughing and whispering little luck to each other between kisses. Not like today, not how it went today. And maybe, he thinks, maybe this is just that thing that seems to happen to him every time. Maybe this is the getting tired of him. Maybe this is the leaving.

He sits for his exam, turns in his paper, goes back to his apartment to pack a bag for home, and he’s grateful that neither Robin nor Eddie are around so that they can’t clock the strange fugue state he’s sifting through. But he still returns to her apartment, that want to feel whatever this wound is ache a little more. And plainly, he still wants to see her.

There’s no answer when he knocks on her door, calls out her name, her real name, and it feels weird in his mouth because these days she’s honey, sometimes baby, but always honey. And it feels weird too, using the key she gave him for the first time, but there’s an admitted pang of worry flickering in his chest because she should definitely be back by now.

He’s greeted with the curl of her back, tucked into herself on the couch and perfectly unmoving. She still has her coat on and he’s never seen her like this before. He kneels down next to the couch, rests his palm on her shoulder and runs a soft track down to her elbow and back up again. And this time it is honey, quiet and almost cracking with how he whispers it, though she stirs, makes a noise that he thinks sounds a little like Sylvia, mmm?

She turns to look at him, eyes held in dark shadows, a little red, a little weepy, and he has to resist the urge to brush the back of his hand over her forehead because he’s pretty sure he knows what this is, pretty sure he’d find a little too much heat beneath her skin.

“I thought you’d already left.” And yeah, definitely what this is, her voice somehow dissolving and splitting into a gravelly rasp since this morning. She winces a little with the sound.

“You really think I’d leave without coming to see you first?”

“I don’t know, I was a dick to you this morning.”

“Yeah, you kinda were.” She sits up, and he has to resist the urge to help her, his hands settling instead on her knees, and there’s a guilty tuck to her chin, the fan of her lashes dropped down to her cheeks. His thumbs rub circles into her joints, something soothing, coaxing.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I was being stupid.” Her coat has shrugged down to hook around her elbows, a little pitiful, her palm curling at her throat like she could feel the ache through her skin.

“You’re sick.”

“Well that’s a little uncalled for, I think.”

“No, I mean like, you’re not feeling well, are you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m just tired, need to sleep exams off for a few days.” Her eyes close when he cups her cheek in his palm, little lean into the touch while his fingers creep up to her temple, and his suspicions are confirmed, a thick wash of heat.

“Have you taken anything?”

“I took some advil when I got home.”

“Did it help?” She shrugs, a little, while he’s already made a decision. He asks if he can use her phone, really quick, honey, and she shrugs again, already slipping back in between asleep and awake with her head tipped back on the couch cushion. He calls his apartment and Eddie picks up, tells him that he and Robin are going to have to leave without him because he’s needed here. Eddie makes a joke about Lord and Lady Harrington throwing a fit and Steve sighs, not really caring about that. He’ll deal with them when he has to. And then he’s back in front of the couch and coaxing Andy up despite her quiet protests because he’s pretty sure they need to go to Urgent Care. And they go to Urgent Care, and she’s apologizing the whole time and asking doesn’t he need to go? No, he says, not going anywhere.

Strep throat, and he’s not surprised, and they catch another cab to stop at the pharmacy for her antibiotics. She keeps saying that she doesn’t want him to catch it before he goes home and he has to laugh because honey, if you have it I definitely have it, just a matter of time before I go down. And by the time they get back to her apartment, she seems to have accepted that he’s staying with a sort of sheepish acquiescence, lets him boss her around a little into a shower and then into bed, meds taken with a glass of water and her socked feet slipping against his ankles. She says sorry again into his chest, quiet and small, and he asks her what she’s saying sorry for.

“You should be with your family.”

“Nah, I like being here better.”

“Even though I sound like I have smoker’s lung?”

“It’s kinda hot, actually.”

“Sure, okay.” The slightest laugh that’s more like a caught breath, and then a long enough span of silence for him to think that she’s fallen asleep, but then.

“I really am sorry about this morning.”

“You weren’t feeling well.”

“I mean, yeah, but, I guess I thought it’d be easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re gonna think this sounds dumb.”

“Not with that sexy smoker’s lung rasp I’m not.” Trying to lighten it, lift it, but she scoffs, Steve, serious, not kidding, her eyes unwavering, mouth tucked in the slightest frown, washed thin and pale in the slants of moonlight.

“You weren’t even gone yet, and I was already missing you, and I felt insane for it.” He’s silent, a thick heat curling in his chest and blooming up and up and up, only feeling a little like an asshole when she says his name like a question, her hand curling in the fabric of his t-shirt. He has to clear his throat before he speaks.

“It’s the same for me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, except I wasn’t a dick about it.” Not serious, and she knows it, nose scrunched and a roll of her eyes.

“You can make it up to me by taking me to Urgent Care in about two days when I start sounding like you.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“You should sleep, honey.”

“So should you.” She tucks back into his chest, easy, and he just hopes she can’t hear the catch and jolt of his heartbeat, because it’s the same for her as it is for him.

They don’t leave her apartment for three days, and when they finally do, it is, as he predicted, so that they can take him to the Urgent Care for the exact same thing she had. And by the time he’s halfway finished with his round of antibiotics and she’s done with hers, and they’re both starting to feel like actual real people again, it’s December 24th, and it’s become very clear that neither one of them is going home for the holidays.

He calls his mom, and his voice is still hoarse enough that she’s only mildly disappointed he won’t be home to make his requisite appearance at the family Christmas party. Meanwhile, Andy can hardly hold in a laugh at oh Steven, it’s not one of those, you know, sexually transmitted things, is it? No, mom, it’s not, yes, mom, merry Christmas. Andy’s conversation with her dad is even shorter, even curter, something about shipping presents, and her sisters asking questions. The youngest of five, she told him, more afterthought than anything else. And when they’ve both hung up there’s a giddy realization of their shared freedom, smiling at each other in her kitchen, crowded around the receiver hooked next to her fridge.

“Are we bad people for doing that?” Trying to be cute in his lean against the fridge, taking the phone out of her hand and hanging it back up on the wall, but he can’t quite fight off the urge to cough first, tucking his face into his elbow before looking at her again, smiling small.

“We’re sick, honey. Our hands are tied, nothing we can do.”

“Right, uh-huh. In that case, what do you want to do for dinner, my darling invalid?”

And so there is no tree, and there are no presents, and there is no family this Christmas. They order takeout from a Chinese place a few blocks away, hot and sour soup and fried rice and crab rangoons that Steve offers one of to Sylvia, curled up on the arm of the couch where they have their holiday meal. She sniffs it, holds it briefly between her teeth, then spits it out on the carpet, though she seems to thank him for his consideration with a slow twine between his legs when he gets up to throw it away.

They don’t get out of bed until the middle of the afternoon on Christmas day, Andy coaxing both of them into a shower, and then into real clothes, and they leave her apartment as the sun is starting to set, catch the train going toward Navy Pier, and brave the cold to walk around beneath the blossoming lights display. Both a good and bad idea, they return with a kicked-up cough shared between them, rattling lungs, rattling ribs, warmed up and smoothed out with tea and buttered toast for dinner. They go back to bed full and content, and sleep off what remains of their sickness.

The rest of that liminal time before the new year is spent simply, sweetly. They do a deep clean of everything, haul all their laundry down to her complex’s basement, him in a pair of her sweats and his own t-shirt, and her in an old flannel and a pair of his basketball shorts that are only just a little obscene because they’re too tight, you and your slutty waist are trying to kill me, nonsense, no sense. Afterward, when there’s a stack of fresh and folded clothes on her newly made bed, and the apartment smells like lemon and cold air from the window they left cracked, she kisses him again, and again, and again, in the kitchen until they’re both slumping down onto the checkerboard linoleum, sweet want, sweet melt, left panting and giggling in the aftermath.

And when New Year’s Eve arrives, neither of them make it to midnight, dead to the world in a tangle on her couch, both of them still a little snotty, a little sleep-worn. He wakes up early in the first morning of 1991 with a stiff neck and pins and needles in his foot where he’s pretty sure Sylvia is sleeping. Andy, still asleep, with her leg slung over his and her shoulder tucked in beneath his, and he decides now would be the perfect time to try those words out. So he does, words that have only been offered to Robin, or Eddie when he’s really drunk, for many years. He whispers them like he’s getting away with something, and she doesn’t even stir, and he’s grateful for that as heat blooms and buoys in his chest.

The next time, he’ll say those words a little louder. He’s pretty sure she’ll say them back.

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington series #girl boy

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nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius · 1 year

Text

TBB Incorrect Quotes, Part 10

Crosshair, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Echo: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

Crosshair: I’m a multitasker! Crosshair: I can disappoint fifteen people at once.

Echo: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED! Echo: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY! Hunter: Echo just threw a tantrum about a chair. Hunter: I just won Echo Tantrum Bingo.

Crosshair: How the hell are you still alive? Tech: Honestly, I’m just as confused as you are.

Wrecker: If we’re in trouble, just throw Echo at the problem, and hope for the best.

Crosshair: Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count.

Wrecker: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk. Echo: Go the fuck to sleep Wrecker.

Hunter: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one. Crosshair: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them.

Hunter: What’s it like being tall? Omega: Is it nice? Echo: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? Wrecker: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Echo: Everyone, calm down! We're grown-ups, let's deal with this like adults! Crosshair: So, we're just going to wing it and hope for the best? Echo: Obviously. Now, Tech, pass the shovel.

Echo: I desire moisture. Hunter: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Crosshair: I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes.

Hunter: Hey, Tech? Can I get some dating advice? Tech: Just because I’m with Phee doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Echo: What's the most efficient way to burn calories? Omega: Exercise more! Crosshair: Set yourself on fire. Tech: There are two kinds of people.

Wrecker: Go big or go home! Echo: Please, for once in your life just go home. I'm begging you. Go. Home. Wrecker: I'm going big!

Tech: I’ve organized your messages into three categories. Tech: “From Crosshair” Tech: “Death Threats” Tech: and “Death Threats From Crosshair”

Echo, gently nudging Wrecker aside with his foot: Wrecker, move out of the way so I don’t trip on you. Wrecker, his eyes enormous: You kick Wrecker? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Echo! Jail for Echo for One Thousand Years!

Crosshair: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Wrecker! Hunter: So Wrecker knows about this? Crosshair, walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Crosshair: Given the circumstances, I will let you hug me for four to five seconds. Omega: Forty five seconds?!? Crosshair: No! I said four TO five seconds. Omega, hugging Crosshair: Too late.

Tech: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Wrecker: I failed my safety training course today. Omega: Why, what happened? Wrecker: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?" Omega: And? Wrecker: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

Hunter, to the Senate: You can take away my rights, but can you take away my lefts?

Wrecker: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. Hunter: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

Crosshair: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you. Tech: Being a fish. Crosshair: Well, shit.

Cody, to cadet Crosshair: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! Crosshair: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away* Hunter, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Crosshair cute or small.

Wrecker: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Tech: Well, that would suck because you can't microwave metal. Echo: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

Tech: *seductively takes off goggles* Wow, you’re… blurry.

Wrecker: We need to distract these guys. Hunter: Leave it to me. Hunter: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Echo & Tech: *immediately begin arguing* Wrecker, watching in horror: Oh, this. I don't like this. I don't like this at all.

Crosshair: *About to do something incredibly stupid* Hunter: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

Tech: I am going to need you to swear- Crosshair: Fuck. Tech: Tech: ...swear as in promise.

#incorrect bad batch quotes #incorrect quotes #the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bit shorter one this time because uni but i still wanted to make it #tbb incorrect quotes

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alotofpockets · 1 year

Text

World Cup Final | Daniëlle van de Donk

Pairing: Daniëlle van de Donk x Reader

Summary: It's the last ten minutes of the world cup final against the United States, with an even score, what will happen when the team is exhausted but still needs to score a goal to win?

Warnings: injury and blood. A/n: repost from my old account @woso-x-reader

masterlist | woso masterlist | words: 809

You were eighty minutes into the most important game of your life, the world cup finale against the United States. The score had been 3-3 for the past 15 minutes, your American opponents scoring the goal that erased your lead on them. It was an intense game, you were all giving it your everything. All five substitutions had been used, in order to get some fresh legs on the field.

Aniek passes the ball over to you on the midfield, as you turn with the ball you’re immediately blocked by Lindsay Horan and Ashley Sanches. The latter of which shoves you to the ground. Since it was all happening so quickly, Horan’s cleat meets your arm as she tries to kick the ball back to their side of the field. You grab your arm out of pain, when you look down you see there is blood running down your arm. Your girlfriend Daniëlle comes running your way as Lindsay helps you sit up.

You see the rage on Daniëlle's face as she approaches you and Lindsay, and are quick to grab her arm, “Not worth it.” She holds back and sits down by your side. Lindsay says another quick sorry before running off to join her team. The referee had called over the medical team in the meantime. They take a look at the cut, spray it with some disinfectant, and put pressure on it with a piece of gauze.

“I’m fine, I need to finish the game.” The medics look at each other. “Oh, come on, please, I promise you can do whatever you need to do in ten minutes when the game is over.” Since you seem to be fine besides the bleeding from the cut, they agree to let you finish the game. They put a bandage around your arm, before they let you go. Daniëlle helps you up, and runs back to her place on the field. Spitse takes the free kick you earned and kicks the ball forward. Sadly the ball was overtaken by the opponents.

The sweat mixing with the blood is making it look even worse as you bleed through the bandage, and it starts running down your arm. Right now, you don’t care about that, all you care about is the game. Only three minutes left before the time is up. You have to score now, or the game will go into penalties, which you weren’t hoping for.

Beerensteyn has the ball in the far right corner of the field, ready to give an assist to someone in the box, but her ball deflects off of Alex Morgan, earning your team a corner kick. As the last minutes are ticking down, almost your whole team is in or around the box, while Sherida gets ready to take the shot. She raises her hand, signaling that she’s ready to kick the ball. You follow the ball with your eyes as it comes your way. You jump up and head the ball in the direction of the goal. Time seems to slow down as you watch the ball inch closer to the goal.

The crowd erupts in cheer as the ball crosses the line. Your teammates are running towards you from all sides hugging you and patting you on the back. You were in the lead, with only one minute to go! “You did it, baby!” Daniëlle says to you when it’s her turn to hug you.

The game continues as the referee has not yet blown the whistle. The goalkeeper kicks the ball away and as it lands on the field, you hear the whistle. You fall to your knees, happy tears streaming down your face. You scored the winning goal in the world cup final. All the hard work the team poured into this had paid off, you won! Daniëlle is quickly by your side once again, this time only hugging you in joy.

The team celebrates together on the field, while also shaking hands with the American players, and telling them that it was a good game. You take a quick break from celebrating and walk up to the medics, like you promised. They clean out the cut properly and give you a fresh bandage.

You run up to your teammates once you’re done. Grabbing Daniëlle and kissing her. You put your foreheads together, taking in the moment, when a Dutch flag gets thrown at you by one of your teammates. You unfold it and wrap it around the both of you. Hand in hand, you walk towards the section your families are sitting in together, to celebrate it with them as well.

The celebration goes on for a long time, and it will be a day you will remember for the rest of your life. Happy to be able to share it with your girlfriend and your amazing teammates.

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skyward-floored · 9 months

Note

Could we get one of the iau boys interacting with split four?

I think this’ll be the last fic prompt I take, unless I get one I’m super inspired by or something. But anyway thanks for the prompts again guys :)

————————————————————

“Um, Four?”

“Yeah?”

Wind set down the book he was flipping through, and squinted at Four, his face falling as he realized his first look had been correct.

“You’re... glowing again,” he said apologetically.

Four immediately looked down at himself, and groaned, pressing his hands to his head as the glow increased.

“Oh come on, not again, it’s only been an hour,” he muttered in dismay, “please hold it together, don’t split don’t split...”

Despite Four’s efforts, the glow suddenly sharpened, enough that Wind had to look away. And when he could finally look back, there were four Fours crammed on the couch.

“Argh! Why can’t I get control of this?!” Blue shouted, pushing Green off of himself. “I hate this!”

“We’ll get it eventually,” Red said encouragingly, then squeaked as he fell off the couch. “Remember yesterday? We stayed together almost all day!”

“Yeah, and then split like ten times in the space of an hour,” Green sighed, wincing in remembrance.

“There must be a trick to it we just haven’t gotten yet,” Vio said with his arms crossed, and began to mutter to himself.

“I don’t think there’s any trick, we’ll probably just have to deal with splitting up constantly no matter what we do,” Blue grumbled. “We’re a lost cause.”

“Aw Blue, come on,” Red said as he tried to climb back on the couch, but Blue just shoved him back off. “Hey!”

“Blue don’t push him,” Green frowned, but Blue just stuck his tongue out at him. “Oh that’s mature.”

“You don’t even know what mature means!” Blue shot back.

“Do so!”

“Well Red doesn’t!”

“Do too! It’s like plants and flowers!”

“That’s nature!”

“GUYS!”

All four pieces of his brother looked over at Wind at his shout, and once he was sure they were listening, he held up a box for all of them to see.

“Do you wanna play Monopoly instead of arguing?” he asked hopefully.

The colors looked between each other, then back at him.

“...Monopoly?” Vio asked with a shine in his eyes.

Wind grinned.

(...)

Two hours later, the Monopoly game had dissolved into a death match between Vio and Legend (who had wandered up right as they’d begun), and Wind was teaching the rest of the colors to play cards while they waited to see who went bankrupt first.

“See, the tricky thing is, your expressions give you away, so you have to try and not smile if you have good cards,” Wind instructed, and Red immediately put his hands over his mouth.

“That’s even worse than smiling!” Blue scoffed, and laid out his hand. “I fold.”

“You can’t fold yet, I haven’t gone,” Green complained, and Blue stared at him.

“I thought you could fold whenever you wanted to?” he asked, and Green shook his head.

“No that’s only if you have four of a kind.”

“But I have three of a kind! That’s better!”

“No it’s not! Why would that be better?!”

“I don’t know! I thought it was just a weird rule!”

Green and Blue glared ay each other, then looked over at Wind, who was scratching his head as he tried to follow the conversation.

“Wind, do you really know how to play this?” Green asked, and Wind squinted at his cards, then nodded rapidly.

“Sure I do! Warriors taught me once, and I remember everything perfectly! Or... well. Most of it anyways.”

“Royal flush! That means I win!” Red suddenly yelled, waving his cards around. The rest of them groaned as they looked at his hand. “My spoils please?”

All three boys grumbled as they pushed the pile of coins and assorted pieces of candy they’d gathered towards him, and Red grinned even wider, popping a piece into his mouth. Blue snuck a hand out to grab one, but Green smacked it away, giving him a disapproving look.

“I like cards!” Red said happily, and Wind sighed as he gathered them up and began to shuffle so they could go again.

“Are you guys done yet?” he called over at Vio and Legend, and the two of them shook their heads, Vio frowning as Legend acquired yet another hotel.

Footsteps caught Wind’s attention, and he looked up as Twilight walked in the room, looking at the colors with a flicker of worry in his gaze.

“Hey, I heard you talking. I just came to see how Four was doing,” Twilight said, and smiled a little. “But you look like you’re doing fine.”

“I guess,” Green shrugged, but he and the rest of the colors looked much happier than they had before they’d started any games.

“Well that’s good. I’m just glad— wait. Are you teaching Four how to bet?” Twilight suddenly exclaimed, and Wind looked up at Twilight with a guilty smile.

“Uh... well...”

“Twenty-two pickup!” Red yelled, and Blue, Green, and Wind all bolted out of the room as cards flew through the air.

Twilight sighed, looking around at the mess. Then he turned into a wolf and chased after them, a glint in his eye as yelps came from the room where his brothers had run.

“Hm, you’ve landed on Park Place. With four hotels. I believe I win,” Vio grinned, and Legend groaned, slapping his forehead.

“I think I liked playing with you better when all your cunning wasn’t concentrated all into one guy,” he grumbled, twitching an ear at the distant yelps from Twilight chasing the others.

Vio smiled.

#incredibles au #lu four #lu colors #lu wind #linked universe fanfic #answers from the floor #anon #writing from the floor #incredibles au fic

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fantastyfanfictionist · 2 months

Text

King and the Kids

A short story about the Sanders Sides Feedback is encouraged and welcome. Hope you Enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

A baby cried in the other room. Kingsley looked into the basket. Not seeing anything else.

“Now where’d you come from, small one?” He picked up the child. A piece of paper fell out from the blanket. “What’s this?” He picked it up. “Morality.”

The baby laughed and grabbed Kingsley’s hand.

“We are going to have so much fun.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Patton, you rascal.” Kingsley huffed playfully, while chasing the toddler.

“Peek-a-boo.” Patton laughed while running from the other. “Boo” He ran into the other room.

“You need to hold still. You can’t run around the house, you might fall and get hurt.”

Patton just laughed and ran off again.

Twenty minutes later Patton finally had a sippy cup of juice laying down next to the tired adult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look what I did King!” Patton shouted running into the kitchen. He handed the older one a piece of paper.

“That’s so pretty.” Kingsley took the paper and put it on the fridge next to several others.

“This one is a dog park with all kinds of dogs and puppies.” Patton beamed proud of himself.

“That’s amazing. Would you like to help finish dinner?” He asked the six year old.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kingsley woke up to the eight year old next to his bed. “Nightmare Patton?” He asked the child.

“No,” Patton had a bundle of blankets in his arms. “It’s a baby.”

“A what?” He sat up and carefully grabbed the bundle from his son's arms.

“This was with it.” Patton pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Where did he come from?”

“I’m not entirely sure. You remember the story when I found you?” Kingsley asked. Patton nodded. “It’s the same thing.” He unfolded the paper. “Logic.”

Looking at the sleeping child he smiled. “Go back to sleep, Patton. I’ll help the baby. You can help tomorrow.”

“Okay King.” Patton walked out of the adult’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Logan!” Patton whined. “Give me back my glasses.”

“No!”

“Done with schoolwork?” Kingsley asked Patton, walking in to see what the commotion was.

“No. Logan keeps grabbing my glasses and books.” The ten year old grabbed his glasses back, making the other cry.

“Why don’t we give him his own then?” Kingsley went back into his room, only to come out a moment later with a children’s book and a smaller pair of glasses identical to Patton’s.

“We have the same glasses!” Patton exclaimed.

“bwooks!” The two year old reached his hands out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Logan. What are you working on?”

“Puzzles.” The six year old stated.

“Can I join you? That sounds fun!” King sat next to the child.

“Yeah, I’m almost done with it anyway.”

The two sat for the next thirty minutes focused on the task until a shout was heard from the kitchen.

“Cookies are done!” Patton dusted the flour off his shirt. He went to find the others.

“Oh, a puzzle. Can I join?” Patton walked into Logan’s room. “This looks fun.”

“No, Patton wait-” A box with puzzle pieces tipped over. Logan stared at the mess, tears coming to his eyes.

“I’m sorry Logan.” All three of them started picking up the pieces.

“Accidents happen.” Kingsley told them.

“I do want to taste some of your cookies Patton.”

The 14 year old jumped up, careful not to spill anything again. “I made some just for you King. And some just for Logan.”

“Logan, come join us?” The adult asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Logan was eight and Patton sixteen when another child got added to their small family.

Crying could be heard throughout the house.

“Another baby!” Patton ran around trying to figure out where it was coming from. Logan found him first.

“Self-preservation.” Logan carefully held the bundle in his arms. “That’s what the paper said.”

Kingsley sat in the rocking chair after taking him from Logan. Patton was by his side cooing at the small one. They both tried to stop the crying.

“I’m not as young as I used to be.” He turned to Patton. “You children are growing up fast and now we have another baby to take care of.”

“I’ll help you.” Patton whispered. They both watched as the baby’s eyes began to close and his crying slowed.

“I know, you and Logan both will. You both are very different, but everyone has their own talents.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Janus! You come back here!” Patton chased the toddler. Logan and Kingsley watched from the couch.

“No!” The child shouted. The adult laughed.

“What’s funny?” Logan asked him.

“I did this same thing with Patton.” He said fondly. “And now he’s the eighteen year old chasing the two year old around. And you're ten?”

“Yup!” Logan beamed.

King smiled. “When did you get so old?”

Almost an hour later with both Patton, Logan and King chasing the toddler they finally got him to sit down. They made dinner while he drank juice from his sippy cup.

“Will you boys make sure Janus gets in bed tonight? Especially you Patton. I'm going to bed early.”

“Of course.” They responded simultaneously.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Look what I caught!” Janus ran to Patton. The 22 year old shrieked.

“Snake?! Janus, those don’t belong in the house.” Patton told him.

Janus laughed. “Can I keep it?” He asked.

“You have to ask King.” Patton went back to what he was doing as the six year old ran off.

Logan was with Kingsley.

“Hey King?” Janus whispered as he slowly opened the bedroom door.

“He’s asleep,” The 14 year old whispered back. “What did you need?”

“Hey Janus.” King slowly opened his eyes. “How’s my little snake doing huh?”

“I finally caught one today.” Janus held up his hands for the adult to see.

“I’m proud of you. Set up a vivarium. I’m sure Logan would love to help you.” He smiled at his two youngest.

“Okay King. We’ll let you sleep more.” Logan took the younger’s hand and they left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

“Is he going to get better?” Janus asked Patton. They were sitting on the couch while Logan was in his room.

“King is a champion. Of course he is. He’s just getting older.” Patton responded. “We can go see him if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not.” The 8 year old whispered. “Is that bad?”

“Of course not. This is a scary time for all of us.”

“Is that why Logan’s always in his room?”

“He has his own ways of expressing his concerns.” Patton hugged the younger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Four years have passed. Patton, Logan and Janus kept growing more and more worried as King’s condition seemed to worsen. The once close family was falling apart as their parental figure was getting worse with each passing year. And their house was slowly changing without any of them realizing it.

“I’m trying, King. I really am. I’m just not sure what I’m doing wrong.” Patton told him, despite the other being no longer able to respond. “Janus is almost a teenager now and I feel like we’re all drifting apart. Logan stays in his room all the time. I don’t know what to do without you.”

King was in an unconscious state. The 28 year old laid his head on the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“You lied to me!” Janus stormed off when Patton told him the sad news. Logan walked out of his room hearing the commotion.

“I was trying to protect you.” Patton answered back.

“Protect me from what!” Janus stormed off.

“I thought it was the right thing to do.” Patton mumbled.

“Can you keep the noise down? I’m trying to study.” Logan said, turning and quickly going back into his room.

“We all have our own ways of coping.” Patton mumbled to himself walking into the kitchen. He pulled the ingredients knowing the recipe by heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Several weeks had passed. Patton and Logan were getting along, understanding that none of them could change what had happened. They were slowly spending more time together. Janus was drifting farther apart and everytime Patton tried to help he was met with resentment. Janus was angry and bitter towards Patton. ‘It’s his way of coping’ Patton would remind himself. 'He'll get over it'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

A cry woke Patton. ‘Another baby? It’s been a long time.’ He got up and walked into the room. Logan had a baby in his arms.

“Creativities.” He simply stated. “That’s what the paper said.”

“Oh,” Patton walked towards Logan and the baby. “What does that mean?”

“There were two babies. Janus took the other one. He almost took both.”

“Two babies? Why does Janus have one? What does he want?”

Janus had built his own place far away from Patton and Logan. The oldest realized Janus was better off being by himself and just let him be. They hardly spoke to the other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Roman! Don’t go over there!” Patton stopped the 4 year old from entering into the forest

“Why?” Roman asked.

“It’s dark, you don’t know what could be over there.” Patton told him. Roman turned towards the grassy field giving one last look behind him before skipping away.

“Logan,” Patton turned toward the other. “What am I going to do?”

“About?” Logan briefly looked up from his book.

“Roman’s getting more and more curious. What if he learns about the others?” Patton whispered the last part. “I just don’t want what happened to Janus happening over again. I miss him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Remus!” Janus yelled across the house. “What do you have!”

“A knife!” The eight year old laughed while running away.

“No!” Janus ran after him. “What did I say about knives?”

Remus pouted, having finally been caught. “Only throwing, no running.”

“Only throwing in the designated throwing room. You’ll totally slice someone’s head off, and I’d rather it not be mine.”

“It’s boooring!” Remus whined. “Everything’s already chopped up and then some.”

“I know you need to expand your creative outlook. How about I create you a room specifically for beating things up, or go into the forest.”

“You’ll let me in the forest! There’s so many small animals.” Remus hopped up and down.

“You need to get rid of some of the energy anyway. Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Two years later Janus got more concerned as Patton and Logan got more and more control over the imagination, no doubt with the help of Remus’ twin. Janus and Remus stayed back in their corner, Janus still bitter with Patton from all those years ago and Remus having been told the stories.

Roman started exploring more of the forest, much to the dismay and eventual approval of Patton. “As long as you stay around the edge and don’t go in the middle.”

Remus loved exploring the darkest part of the forest with all the creepiness, Janus keeping a watchful eye of both his child and the others. Always avoiding.

“Patton!” Roman rushed to the other. Patton was making cookies and brushed the flour from his hands. “I heard a villain in the forest.” Logan paused his reading from the couch to listen in. “He was laughing like the bad guys do in the movies!”

Logan and Patton shared a quick glance. “Are you sure it wasn’t your imagination kiddo? I know it tends to run a bit wild when you’re playing.” Roman thought for a moment.

“Maybe it was just an animal or something.” Roman said eventually. “Or a monster!” His eyes widened.

“Well, I’ll be the cookie monster if you don’t come eat my cookies.” Patton put the cookies on the table along with a cup of milk.

Later that night Patton woke up to what he thought was crying. After a minute of not hearing anything he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Janus smiled and looked at the small baby in his arms. ‘Anxiety’ the note read. Janus walked back to his place of living and sat down. “Goes good with self preservation don’t you think Remus?”

“A baby?” Remus sleepily stood next to Janus.

“We’ll raise him like I raised you.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #Virgil Sanders #King and the Kids #ssfanfic #king creativity

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goddess-aelin · 1 year

Note

Rowaelin Prompt: “what do you mean you’ve been flirting with me for [x] years?”

Thank you so much for the prompt! Here's a fun little neighbors to friends to lovers fic :)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none!

“Well, Rowan. It looks like this is the end,” Aelin said as she picked up another box of various items belonging to the man in question.

“I’m moving across the hall, Fireheart, not across the country.”

“Yeah, but now that you’re moving across the hall, I can’t exactly call you my neighbor, can I? I blame Lorcan and Elide for this.”

In truth, Aelin had been in love with her neighbor for four years, which also happened to span the entire time that he lived next to her. She and Rowan had met when he moved in with Elide’s cursed boyfriend, who Aelin wanted to murder every time she talked to him and also happened to be her neighbor. But she dealt with Lorcan’s presence only so she could see Rowan more often, the silver haired man quickly weaseling his way into her heart.

It was the dimples that appeared on his face when Aelin brought him half-burnt cookies on move-in day.

It was the way he’d hold the elevator for her when she was running ten minutes late and was low on caffeine.

It was the way he’d let her snuggle into his side during their friends’ movie nights, where she’d inevitably fall asleep and drool on his shirt. Yet despite the drool, he didn’t seem to mind.

So yes, she was in love with her neighbor, her best friend, dare she say the man of her dreams. She was pretty sure he felt the same way.

So why was it so gods-damned hard to tell him that?

Oh, right. It was because despite her flirting, silly cat-calling, and cheesy pick-up lines, Rowan had never acted upon any so-called feelings. After a year, Aelin chalked it up to nerves. Rowan wasn’t the most outgoing of men. So, she persisted. After two, then three, then four, Aelin didn’t know what else to do. She sure as hell wasn’t going to just blurt it out. Maybe she had it all wrong and he didn’t feel the same way. What if her confession ruined everything good they had? Aelin would rather have a small piece of him than none at all.

And that was how she found herself moving all of Rowan’s belongings across the hallway, quietly stewing in her feelings. Elide decided that she was finally ready to move in with her brute of a boyfriend and Rowan happily offered to move out of the two-bedroom apartment he and Lorcan currently shared so the happy couple could have more space than the available one-bedroom across the hall.

Aelin considered just telling Rowan how she felt so that instead of moving his things across the hall, he could simply move into her one-bedroom with her. But that was wishful thinking, so she kept her mouth shut.

“Oh yes, the five steps it’ll take to get to my door is so much more difficult than the four it used to take.” With an exasperated eye roll, Rowan pulled her into his side and squeezed. “Now, I’m going to go see if I can get Lorcan to help me with my bed frame. Can you start setting up these books for me? You always were better at organizing that stuff anyway.”

With a nod, Aelin took the heavy box from his arms and made her way to the bookshelf in the corner of his room.

Aelin was so engrossed in the mystery that was Rowan’s reading material that she mistook the light footsteps she heard for Rowan’s.

"Hey Rowan, why in Mala’s good name do you have Knitting for Dummies in your book pile?”

A twinkling laugh echoed through the room. “Not Rowan but I, too, would like to know why a burly man such as himself has a book on knitting.” Elide continued chuckling and Aelin smiled back at her friend. “Though I will say, it’s kind of hot.”

Aelin sighed wistfully. “Tell me about it.”

Elide took a casual stance at the doorway, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms. “Aelin just tell him. I’m like 99% sure that it won’t be as bad as your thinking.”

“So you’re saying there’s a 1% chance that it will be as bad as I’m thinking?”

Elide gave her a stern look. For such a small woman, Elide could be extremely scary when she wanted to be. “Look, all I’m saying is that the way that Rowan looks at you should be illegal, ok? I’ve never seen anyone who looks so soft yet so lustful at the same time. He wants you, Aelin. And I don’t think it’s just physically. I mean, do you remember last week when you fell asleep on him at movie night?”

“I did not…”

“You did. And when you let out the loudest, most obnoxious snore, that boy had the gall to smile at you like you just hung the world.”

Aelin let out a frustrated sigh. “Elide, I’ve been flirting with Rowan for four years. And I have nothing to show for it.”

“What do you mean you’ve been flirting with me for four years?” Rowan appeared behind Elide, looking as handsome as ever despite the shocked look on his face.

If Aelin could have wished for one thing her entire life, it would’ve been to crawl into a deep, dark hole where no one could find her. Especially Rowan.

Elide’s eyes widened as she turned to face the man behind her. “I’m…I’m gonna just go.”

Aelin closed her eyes and let out a huff of breath. Thanks, Elide. She kept her eyes closed but could hear Rowan’s footsteps entering the room, could hear the door shutting quietly.

“Aelin,” he whispered. “Please open your eyes.”

Aelin shook her head. She could hear him laughing softly. She felt a hand gently brush hers before it picked her own up with tender reverence. Another hand slid up her jaw, tilting her face upwards.

“Aelin.” She wasn’t sure if it was the soft tone of his voice or the fact he sounded slightly panicked, but Aelin decided to listen to him.

Teal met green as she opened her eyes.

“You’ve been flirting with me?”

She exhaled roughly. “Pretty much since the day we met.”

Rowan gave her a sheepish look. “I had no idea.” Aelin just shrugged. “You are a very charismatic person so I just assumed…I don’t know. You’re like that with everyone.”

“I definitely don’t tell Fenrys when his ass looks good in his khaki pants. Or give Lorcan bear hugs when I haven’t seen him for a day.”

Rowan gave her a small chuckle. “That’s not a good example since you hate Lorcan.” Aelin rolled her eyes in reluctant agreement.

“Maybe I hate Lorcan. But I’ve sort of been in love with you for a while.”

Rowan at least had the decency to look shocked. “You love me?”

Aelin took a sharp inhale of breath, not realizing what she was saying until it was too late to take it back. Before she could give him an answer or excuse, however, his other hand came up to cup her cheek, bringing her face closer to his.

“That’s good to hear because I think I might be in love with you, too.”

The first brush of his lips was so gentle, so fleeting that she thought she might have dreamed it.

She couldn’t help but tease him a bit but she also needed confirmation. “You might be in love with me?”

She could feel Rowan’s smile against her own. “No, I definitely am.” And with those words, he crashed his lips down onto hers, the fervor and intensity surprising a gasp out of her. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, each of them basking in the presence of the other and using every minute to make up for the four years that they could’ve been doing this.

“You know, we could’ve saved a lot of time if you had confessed earlier. I wouldn’t have had to move all of my stuff into this apartment when I know that I’m just going to be spending all of my time at yours anyway.”

“Mmmm. I think it was perfect this way. Just the way it was meant to be.” Aelin silently thanked the Gods for this moment. “Now about this book on knitting…”

tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowan whitethorn #Aelin galathynius #Throne of glass #tog #throne of glass fanfiction #asks #my fics

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call-memissbrightside · 2 years

Text

CollegeAU where tomura is a computer science engineer that lives off of cheap ramen and slushees from 7/11. Not that the orphan bastard is poor, oh no his adopted father is LOADED (and kinda bad) but no one ever attempted to teach the guy that maybe you shouldn’t count a box of Cheezits and one can of soda as breakfast.

Imagine he bumps into you one night at the convenience store , a liberal arts major fluttering around looking for an ounce of something sugary to get you through writing a 12 page dissertation about the flaws of Charlotte Bronte’s famous character Jane Eyre—

“What flavor do you prefer?”

Tomura is startled that someone acknowledged him. His tired eyes shift to take you in, noticing how his tall frame overwhelming towers over you. Your hair is up in one of those banana clips he sees other girls wearing, but pieces are dangling against your cheeks. Your lips shine, his mind wondering if it was gloss or natural—

“Uh, dude?” Tomura blinks, looking away at you and at his hand, now cold from the slushy overflowing from his cup.

“Shit,” he mumbles, moving back to get napkins but is surprised when you hold out some to him.

He takes them from you carefully, his mind struggling to stay awake after coding for what was it now? 14 hours?

“So?” Tomura awkwardly stumbles to clean his mess, irritated that now his hands were sticky.

“What?” He’s confused, wondering why you were looking at him with a teasing look. His empty stomach flips at your smile, hoping it’s because he was hungry at not because he found you so pretty.

“What flavor should I get?” You ask again, nodding at the slushee machine in case he didn’t understand.

Tomura looked at the machine, bright colors showcasing a variety of flavors that he’s tried. He can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of test, and the young man shifts his weight on his feet.

“What do you like?” He asks, suddenly feeling self conscious at his stained shirt and sweatpants he’s been wearing since Sunday (it’s Thursday) and prays he doesn’t smell.

You hum in thought, “I’m feeling a bit stressed, so something that gives a calming feeling.”

Tomura nearly stumbles back. What the fuck does that even mean?!

He tries to decipher what poetic bullshit you just said, and looks at the flavors again.

After some deliberation, he mumbles, “Go with cherry then.”

Tomura peers down at you and is nearly startled to see you smiling again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

You follow him to the counter, and Tomura briefly thinks of maybe he should pay for your slushee since isn’t that chivalrous?

You slap down a ten dollar bill before he could even take his wallet out.

“Two slushees please,” you tell the cashier.

Tomura is perplexed, “you didn’t have to do that.”

You shrug your shoulders, “it’s no biggie.”

He walks out with you before parting ways, awkwardly waving back when you bid him farewell.

Tomura slinks into himself as he walks back to his apartment, mindlessly sipping at his slushee and wondering if the cherry flavor would stain your lips red.

He didn’t think he’d ever see you again, but the next week there you were asking him what you should get. Tomura was glad he had the idea of showering and changing today.

“How are you feeling?” Tomura remembers your first answer, noting to ask how you felt rather than what you wanted since that influenced your choice.

“Tired, so something energizing,” you say, not missing a beat.

Tomura can’t stop himself from smirking. “Try Blue Crush.”

And so you do, and like before you pay even though he says you don’t have to.

He sees you once every week, always the same question and always the need to pay for him.

Finally, after weeks of slushee consumption, he asks something that’s been heavy on his mind before you two part ways.

“What’s your name?” You stop, turning around and giving him a purple teeth-stained smile. He suggested grape today after you were feeling a bit nostalgic.

“It’s (Y/N), what’s yours?”

“Tomura,” he says.

You give him a three finger solute. “See ya around Tomura.”

He can’t recall who’s idea it was but soon after Tomura would walk you back to your dorm on campus and listen as you went on rants about whatever book you were reading for class. The young man didn’t go outside much, but walking with you at night was nice and his eyes didn’t hurt so much as they would when he was staring blankly at his computer screen. Walking with you gave him time to ‘unplug’ and he found himself wanting to spend more time with you, with and without the need of slushees.

He stumbled over his words, but eventually he asked for your number.

“You know you can’t get rid of me now, right?” You tease as you punch in your number on his phone.

Tomura scoffs,” don’t get cocky.”

Before he met you, Tomura didn’t socialize much. Sure he had friends, and his video games but he never left his apartment besides to go to class or the store. With you now texting him at all times of the day and night, he felt the need to take better care of himself. He showered daily, he put more effort into his outfits, he even learned to cook an egg! Because you’d ask him if he was doing okay, if he ate dinner or needed someone to talk to. You cared, and your kindness made him realize that he didn’t really care about himself. That slowly began to change.

“Would you wanna come over this weekend and watch a movie?” Tomura was nervous about asking since the two of you never hung out outside the slushee window.

You bumped his shoulder, continuing to walk towards your dorm hall.

“Of course! I actually have to watch The Great Gatsby for class, would that work?”

I’d rather fuck a cactus, he thinks. “Sure that’s fine.”

You look up at him, his red eyes showing just how much he disliked the idea. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” He asks, worried you’d change your mind.

“We don’t have to watch that, we can pick something else,” you say.

He’s blushing, he knows he is because Tomura feels his cheeks burn. He clears his throat.

“Whatever, I don’t care.” He does.

You plan it all out, agreeing to meet up at his apartment complex called The League at seven and order food for dinner. Tomura walked back home giddy for some reason, nearly skipping at the thought of you and him laughing at some lame movie and sharing pizza in his living room.

Tomura stops in his tracks, his smile dropping when he realizes—

“Fuck! I have to clean my apartment!”

#tomurashigaraki #tomura fluff #tomura imagine #boku no hero academia tomura #tomura shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x you #my hero academia shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fluff

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livyjh · 1 year

Text

This is the Way (Home)

Chapter 2

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 4k

Entire work can be found on ao3 here

Chapter links listed at top of first chapter

Chapter warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), masturbation, audible voyeurism (don’t know how else to phrase this, basically secretly listening to someone else doing sexual things).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Mandalorian returned in a short 20 minutes, a thick paper box in hand.

He gave it to you, “Hope you like bantha and flatbread.”

“Never tried bantha, actually.” You say to him, opening the box and taking a whiff. It actually smelled pretty good. The meat was cut into small, steak like pieces. And the flatbread had an oily spread of some kind.

You dig in and make a soft sound at the taste. “This is… very good.”

The Mandalorian only nods slightly in response.

He’s so quiet. Pensive. Alert.

You wonder if there isn’t a way to get him to open up a little bit. Besides, if you were going to be stuck in a room with him for three or more nights, you’d need to find something to talk about. Right?

Apparently not. You’d tried striking up conversation with him several times throughout the rest of the night until it finally reached 11pm and you passed out in bed.

***

The next morning, you wake up, seeing Mando sitting in the same exact place on the bed that he was when you fell asleep.

“Did you not sleep?” You roll onto your side to face him.

“No. Needed to keep guard.” He says flatly.

You sigh before sitting up. “I’ll take a turn. You sleep.”

He looks at you for a long moment. “Look, no offense, but-“

“I’ve been trained in basic hand to hand combat.” You interrupt him.

“You-?” He shakes his head.

“I’m not as weak as I look, either.” You smile at him.

“I’m not tired. Maybe later.” He argues.

“Fine. I need to shower.” You get out of bed and slide into the fresher, getting undressed and turning on the shower.

Once the water was warm enough, you stepped in under it, sighing happily at the feeling.

You clean yourself off, wishing you’d done this last night. But you were just too tired.

Once done, you turn the shower off and get out, drying off and putting your dirty clothes back on. You wondered if you could bribe Mando into taking you shopping later.

You stepped out of the fresher, feeling… well, fresher. You had a towel wrapped around your head to try and get your hair to dry a bit, going to sit on your bed.

“Go ahead. It’s all yours.” You point to the fresher.

“Thanks.” He rasps, getting up and going inside.

After a few minutes you rest your head back against the pillows, letting the sound of the shower soothe you. The shower later turns off and it’s a good ten minutes before he steps back out, fully armored up, helmet, gloves and all.

“Hey, Mando?” You move to sit up.

“Yes, princess?”

His formal address to you sounded… well, it made blood rush down between your legs. And up to your face.

You were blushing now, jaw slack with your mouth hanging open as you try to push the words out of your mouth. “Uh- I would- could we get me some clean clothes?”

“Oh!” He says in realization. “Of course.”

“Alright, let’s go.” You take the towel off from your head.

“I must insist you stay here.” Mando sighs.

You cross your arms over your chest. “I can fend for myself.”

He thinks for a moment. “No. Not risking it. I need to get you home safe, if someone dangerous spots you, there could be a problem.”

You roll your eyes and sit back down on the bed. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I promise, it’s for the best.” He reassures you.

“Yeah, alright.” You take the notepad from the table between the beds and the pen next to it, writing down your sizes for different clothing items. You rip the front paper off and hand it to Mando. “Here.”

“I’ll be back soon.” He nods and leaves.

***

He’s gone for almost two hours and you wonder if he’s having trouble. It’s not like he regularly went clothes shopping, having his uniform, especially not for other people.

Just as you realize you should’ve asked him to bring food back, the door opens and he enters. He must have good intuition because you could smell food, you knew he had to have something in the big canvas bag he was carrying.

He pulls out a box, similar to the one from last night, and hands it to you. You open it up and it was, in fact, the same thing from last night. Not that you minded, it was good food. Besides, it didn’t seem like this town had too many options anyways.

“Thank you.” You smile at him and wish you knew a better way to thank him besides your parents paying him when he returned you home.

You started to eat as Mando began to lay out the clothes he’d gotten you at the end of your bed.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, but, this should at least get you by.” He explains.

“No underwear?” You take a look at all the clothes, then at him.

“Uh, I didn’t- well, you didn’t write-“ he starts.

“I’m just fucking with you.” You laugh. You didn’t normally wear underwear. But he didn’t really need to know that.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and nods, laying down on his bed with a long sigh.

“Mando, please, please… sleep.” You encourage him. “At least a nap.”

He considers it for a moment. “Fine. Wake me up in two hours.”

“Okay.” You agree and he rolls over, facing away from you on his bed.

You lay there, entertaining yourself with your thoughts. After a half hour, Mando moans quietly and rolls onto his stomach. You don’t think much of it. At first.

But then it kept echoing in your head. It was soft, sensual. You wondered if he wasn’t having an especially good dream.

You were certain he was asleep now, his breathing mostly evened out, quiet but deep. You reached down into your pants, brushing two fingers over your clit.

You let out a shaky breath and pushed your hips up, pressing your fingers harder to your sensitive bud and tracing circles over it.

“Fuck.” You whisper under your breath, slowly speeding up as the pressure builds in the pit of your stomach.

After a couple minutes you’re really going at it, now on your side, face in the pillow as you moan softly, squeezing your legs together as you rub your clit at a fast speed.

You feel your orgasm approaching and part of you doesn’t know how quiet you can be. But it feels so good and you can’t stop now.

Soon, you’re cumming against your fingers, silently screaming into the pillow and then letting out little whimpers as you came down. With his helmet on, and being asleep, you’re sure you were safe from Mando hearing anything.

Maker, you needed that. Something to actually relax you. You were kidnapped, taken to a brand new planet, and then got stuck in this room at an inn. It was just the release you needed to calm your nerves and anxiety about getting home.

You turn on the television, muting it and just reading the captions to figure out what was going on. You would let Mando sleep longer than two hours if you could manage it. He needed it.

Four hours have passed since Mando had laid down and you decide it’s probably a good time to wake him.

“Mando.” You whisper.

He doesn’t move.

“Mando.” You now say at a normal level. “Mandoooo.”

“Hm?” He rolls onto his back and looks over at you, then to the clock on the wall above the television. “I said two hours.”

“Figured you needed it.” You shrug at him.

He sighs. “You’re probably right… but, can you stick to what I say next time, please?”

You roll your eyes a little. “Yeah, sure.” You agree.

“Thanks.” He sits up in the bed and watches the television program with you for a bit, once you turned the sound back on.

It was nearing dinner time, you noticed, and your stomach grumbled a little. You weren’t opposed to relying on someone else for food, it just felt bothersome asking.

You muster up the courage, “Hey, I’m kind of hungry. Do you think-?”

“Yeah.” He interrupts you and stands. “Same thing or something else?” He asks considerably.

“Same thing is fine. Might want something different tomorrow, though.” You shrug.

He nods and leaves, you take the opportunity to go into the fresher with a set of new clothes and put them on. It felt better to be in clean clothes.

You walk back out and sit down, watching the television for a bit until Mando got back.

You hear the key in the door, the lock clicking open. He barely opens it, “Are you decent?” He asks.

“Uhh, yeah?” You raise a brow, wondering why he’d even ask.

He comes into the room the rest of the way, door shutting behind him.

“Why?” You look at him.

“Why what?” He looked down at you.

“Why’d you ask if I was decent?” You laugh awkwardly.

“Um-“ he pauses for a long moment. “I might’ve heard- when you were… earlier…”

And then it dawns on you. Oh, Maker, why you?

“Oh, fuck.” Your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink and you cover your mouth, breaking eye contact and looking down at the floor.

“It’s okay. Don’t- don’t be embarrassed… I just hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet and-“

“Don’t be embarrassed?!” You snap at him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I figured you would’ve been more embarrassed had I stopped you… during.” He explains.

You consider it for a second. Yeah, that would’ve been more embarrassing.

“Fucking Maker.” You cover your face with both hands and shake your head.

“Everyone has uh, needs.” He shrugs and sits down on his bed.

“Oh? Even you?” You crack a joke, peeking at him through your fingers.

He takes a moment before answering. “Sure.” There’s another pause before he hands you the box of food. “Here.”

“Th- thanks.” You lower your hands and reach out for it.

You turn towards the television, putting your feet up on your bed and relaxing against the headboard. Your face was still warm, red as you ate.

You slowly started to calm your anxiety about the whole situation and focus on the holodrama that was on, tossing the empty food box into the bin next to you.

A few hours pass and your eyes start to get droopy, unable to stay open. You crawl under the covers and lay down, facing away from Mando. “Night.”

“Night.” You heard him get up and turn off the television before getting back on his bed.

Then there’s silence.

You lay there awake for almost two hours despite your exhaustion, dreading the fact that the Mandalorian heard you touching yourself. You wondered if he was judging you for it. Earlier he told you not to be embarrassed. What did that mean? He didn’t mind it?

Fuck, did he… like it?

That’s the last thought you have before you fall asleep.

***

You’re not sure when you turned over last night, but you wake up facing an empty bed, rather than the fresher, how you’d fallen asleep.

You open your mouth to say his name, but then you hear it.

“Fuck.” You hear an unmodulated, quiet voice coming from the fresher.

You look over your shoulder to its closed door and raise a brow.

“Ah.” You hear a soft moan and then blood is rushing between your legs.

You cover your mouth and turn back over, away from the fresher, listening.

At least he has the decency to do it behind a closed door, you think to yourself.

You hear Mando breathing hard, increasingly fast until a broken whine comes from him. You’re fucking throbbing.

It’s all very quiet, just loud enough for you to hear it. Had you been asleep still, it wouldn’t have woken you up. You wished you could be doing the same thing as him right now.

A couple minutes of silence pass and then you hear the fresher door slide open, boots stepping quietly over to his bed.

You keep your eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness. You end up falling back asleep for a little while.

When you wake up a second time this morning, you’re still facing him as your eyes open. He’s laid down on the bed, facing the ceiling, chest moving up and down slowly.

“Mando?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice surprises you, thinking he’d been asleep. You never can tell with him, you decide.

“Can I please get out of the room for a bit today?” You sit up.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shakes his head.

“Oh, come on, they’ve probably forgotten all about me by now.” You get up and straighten out your clothes, slipping your shoes on.

He watches you for a second, getting up and getting between you and the exit. “No.”

“I’m bored out of my mind, sitting here all day. Come on, just take me out for breakfast?” You ask sweetly.

He sighs and shakes his head. “You’ll have to go through me.”

You huff a laugh and roll your eyes. Like you’d told him, you were trained in basic hand to hand combat. But you knew he was far stronger than you.

Nonetheless, you raise your arm, about to swing for the spot above his chest plate when his hand suddenly grabs your raised arm at the wrist.

You gasp softly, his grip tightening slightly the longer you stood there. A couple seconds pass and you’re blushing, not able to think straight enough to try and hit him with your other hand.

“I said: no.” He growls at you and you can’t help the whimper that escapes you.

Your free hand slowly moves to his waist, then up to his chest. You move closer, pressing yourself into him and-

“Oh.” You mumble, feeling him hard against your hip.

He lets out a strained sigh, hand loosening from around your wrist.

You push forward into him and he groans, letting go of your wrist completely. You drop to your knees in front of him, looking up through your lashes.

He visibly shivers as he looks down at you. “Princess… you- we shouldn’t.” He warns.

You keep eye contact with his visor as you reach up and unbuckle his belt, slowly undoing his pants.

His breathing picks up and you tug down his pants and underwear to his thighs. He had beautifully tan skin, and Maker, a beautiful cock.

You’d fooled around with a couple guys before, but they had nothing on him. It was flushed red, throbbing between his legs.

You take hold of the base slowly, still looking up at him when you licked the underside, all the way up to his leaking tip.

He shuddered with pleasure, reaching forward to tuck some hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes and put your mouth all the way on him, sucking down what you can, stroking the rest with your hand.

“Fuck.” He curses through his modulator, hand resting gently on the crown of your head.

As you continued to blow him, you got more precum from him, loving the taste of it on your tongue. You look up at him once more, wet mouth full of his cock and that’s what gets him.

He cums down your throat, you swallowing as much as you can but some dribbles down your chin. He moans brokenly, similar to what you’d heard him doing earlier this morning.

He finishes pumping into your mouth and you pull off with a pop, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. He was panting as he looked down at you, broad shoulders heaving.

And then he’s quickly tucking himself back in and doing up his pants and belt. “I’ll grab breakfast.” He says shyly, slipping out of the room before you even get the chance to stand up.

You feel a little awkward when you finally do, sitting on the edge of your bed. Why’d he leave so suddenly?

You ran a hand down your face, afraid that he was instantly regretting it. He seemed to enjoy it well enough. You’d ask him later.

When he returned with food in about a half hour, you felt like you were crawling out of your skin. You stood up quickly.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask.

“What? Of course not.” He shakes his head.

“Then why did you leave like that?” You raise a brow.

“I…” he let a moment of silence pass. “I liked it more than I care to admit.” He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh.” You come to a realization when he says this. It’s not that he didn’t want you, he wanted you too much.

Okay, that was a turn-on. You felt yourself instantly get wet from this, wishing he was on top of you, inside you. You start to blush so you look away from him.

He sets the food on the table between the beds before heading toward the fresher. He closes the door behind him and you jump up, pulling your clothes off.

You needed him. You were throbbing for him, pussy pulsing and clenching in want. If this didn’t send the signal that you wanted him to want you? You don’t know what would.

You laid down on the bed, trying to get into a semi-alluring position. When the fresher door opened again, he gasped, standing there for a second.

“Told you earlier I was bored.” You laugh a little.

“Your parents would kill me.”

“Then they don’t need to find out.” You shrug at him, spreading your legs open for him to see your center.

“Fuck.” He whispers under his breath, helmet turned towards where you ache for him. You just smirk.

He hesitates, but finally gives in when your hand moves down between your legs. He removes his gloves and tosses them on the floor, getting onto your bed between your legs. His bare hands pushed your thighs further apart, groaning when he saw how wet you really were, lips glistening.

You pull your own hand away as he barely pushes his fingertips into you, sliding them up your slit. You whined, hips bucking slightly.

When his fingers reached your clit, he rubbed a couple circles into it before moving back down, pushing his middle finger into you.

You gasp and look down at him, his visor focused on your pussy and where his finger was inside you. He looked back up at your face for a moment. You know how red you can get when you’re riled up like this, and that only made you blush more.

His head moves back down as his thick digit slowly pulls out and pushes back in. You moaned, slowly breathing out to try and keep yourself semi under control.

He begins a pace in and out, before pushing a second finger inside, stretching you deliciously.

“You’re so tight, princess.” He groans, hooking his fingers in search of the special spot inside you.

It only took him a second to find it and it made you whimper, “Fuuck.”

“There it is.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His fingers slid against it, then off, then back on, and fuck him for going so slow.

“Please, Mando.” You pant, eyebrows drawn together.

“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.” He breathes and you clench around his fingers.

“Faster. More. Please.” You practically beg him.

He hums as he pushes a third finger into you, keeping them all slightly curved as he thrusted. You were coming apart at the seams, legs quivering, toes curling, whining for him.

“Mando-“ you whimper, especially needy this time.

He speeds up and soon you’re moving your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers as he stretched you out. You could hear and feel how wet you were, knowing his hand was probably covered in your slick.

“I’m- I’m gonna- oh fuck.” You groan as your orgasm hits you like a train. You arch your back up, whining his name repeatedly as he keeps fingering you.

It’s only when he starts to slow down that you can form a coherent thought. “Felt so good…” you trail off and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bedspread.

“You’re so fucking hot when you cum.” He says seductively.

You whine in response, looking down at the tent in his pants. “Want you to cum. Cum on me.”

That punches the air out of his lungs and the next thing you know he’s pulling his dick out and stroking it, knees against the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You sigh, staring down at his dick in his hand.

His breath got ragged as he kept going and he tilted his head back for a moment. You caught a peek at a sliver of his neck. He looked back down at you, moaning softly.

His strokes got faster until he whined and came, squirting it up your stomach and chest.

“Maker.” You breathe out, watching his hand milk his cock.

He slows down as he starts to get sensitive, stopping his hand after a moment. He takes a few deep breaths before getting off the bed and putting himself back into his pants. He leans into the fresher and grabs a wet rag, coming back to your bed to wipe off your torso.

“Thank you.” You smile up at him.

“No, uh- thank you.” He hums, he almost sounds embarrassed. Sheepish.

You didn’t think he’d be one to get all shy after sex, or, sexual activities. Maybe it’s because this was so new. You were so new. Did you fluster him?

You blink up at him, unsure what to say next. “Mhm.” You nod. “It was as fun as me as I hope it was for you.”

“Yes.” He says shortly and puts the tag back in the fresher somewhere.

He walks to his bed and sits down with a soft groan. Something someone of his approximate age and line of work would do. They face physical challenges every day, and if he was nearing 40 like you’d guessed, he’d probably have some aches and pains by now. It only just occurred to you that you have no clue how old he really is. But it didn’t matter much to you.

You get up and get dressed, getting on your bed facing the Mandalorian. You take the food from off the table between the beds and get into it.

You have a realization, looking up at him. “Wait, have you eaten the last couple days?”

“While you’re sleeping.” He explains.

“You don’t have to wait till I’m asleep. I’ll just sit in the fresher for a bit or turn away and keep my eyes closed.”

You could tell it’s not that he didn’t trust you in some capacity, but you know he lives a strict life and he’s probably just nervous about having someone conscious nearby when he takes his helmet off. You knew the Mandalorian rules. You’ve heard of some of them, anyways. The important ones, you’re pretty sure.

He hesitates. “Thank you. I’ll consider that.”

“Mhm.” You smile and eat your food, Mando getting up to turn on the television.

It was funny how quickly things had gone back to casual after your encounter with him. But it felt comfortable.

“I should go check in with Peli today about the ship.” He says after a little while.

“Okay.” You reply.

“Promise me you won’t sneak out.” He gets up between your two beds, facing you.

“Or what?” You tease.

He reaches forward and takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll have to punish you.”

Your expression relaxes and you bite your lip, stifling a moan.

He stares down at you for a long few moments before rubbing his thumb over your chin and cheek, pulling back. “See you soon.” He says devilishly, walking to the door and leaving.

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gretavangroupie · 1 year

Text

Wilt (Epilogue)

Word count: 3.0k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Thank you for waiting for the final piece of Wilt. I hope you will enjoy their ending as much as I did writing it.

The light catches the perfect oval sparkling on your finger as you turn the wheel of your car. You found yourself entranced in the colors as it sparkled a million tiny rainbows onto the ceiling of the car. Even after all these years it still ‘shone the brightest’, as Jake would always say and had your heart full, practically spilling over with love at every glance.

The bags in the backseat slid across the car as you pulled over the crack in the pavement and into the long driveway situated at the side of your home. Your big beautiful home, full of love, support, and affection. You both knew as soon as you saw this house that it was the one. Much like falling in love. The minute Jake laid eyes on it you knew you would have to drag him out of the showing appointment and you weren’t wrong. A few short weeks later he closed on it, and it became yours, together. You filled it with your things and it slowly became a perfect representation of the two of you, as one.

Though Jake was gone more frequently now, you had reminders of him everywhere. Surrounding you day and night, but none more prominent than the gold band wrapped around your finger and his. Jake was persistent. He probably asked you ten times before you said yes and meant it. That beautiful day in Portofino, wine drunk and sunkissed, everything felt right. You had known since the day you met that he would always be in your life, and he continued to prove to you daily how badly he needed you in his. So as you walked hand in hand through the green leaves of the vineyard and he asked you to marry him you finally said yes and meant it.

The wedding was simple, only immediate friends and family were in attendance. A small gathering at his home in Michigan. His favorite linen suit, and a modest white dress. Handpicked flowers from the field next door, and a celebration of two people hopelessly in love with each other.

Three years passed by in a flash. You got to witness a new album release, see the world on a seemingly endless tour, and got to see the inner workings of his mind as they worked on their next album. You knew that you wanted to do something special for the twins for their birthday since they have spent the last four years working the day of, never getting to celebrate how they wanted to. You worked tirelessly over the last week in preparation for the party tomorrow. Everything was ready but there was one more thing you needed to do.

You grabbed the bags from your backseat, rushing inside to wrap the gift before Jake got home from the studio. You wrapped the small box in brown paper and a black satin ribbon, placing it on the dresser just in time to see his Jeep pulling into the driveway. You watched him through the large window as he walked up the steps of your front porch, and you felt your heart flutter at the sight of him.

The beeping of the alarm system indicates the front door has opened, followed quickly by your name falling melodically from his lips. As he turns the corner into your bedroom, his hand rests on the door frame as he looks you up and down. “Whatcha got there…” he asks, seeing the box on the dresser.

“Oh just a little something for the birthday boy.” you say playfully.

“You didn’t have to get me anything baby.” he says.

You smile and shrug your shoulders, as he walks into the room, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him.

“I think you’re gonna love it. Actually, I know you will.” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He groans as he kisses you back before pulling away. “I don’t think I will ever get tired of that.” he says with a smirk.

“Probably a good thing since you’re stuck with me.” you say with a wink.

You step out of his arms and make your way to the kitchen. There are a few things you need to prep tonight before tomorrow, and time spent with Jake home seems to slip away quickly. As you pull the mixing bowls from the cabinet you hear him put a record on, the blues tunes filling the tall ceilings of your perfect home. Your perfect life with your perfect man. How did I get so lucky?

–

Your morning was spent rushing around hanging decorations, setting up food and drinks and texting people directions. People would be arriving any minute and your nerves were pulsing through your body like a bullet train. You wanted everything to be perfect for them. For him.

Setting the two cakes on the long wooden table you took a step back admiring your handiwork. The doorbell rings and you hear Jake call out that he would get it. Walking to meet him at the door you see the other guest of honor, Josh, who promptly takes you into the biggest hug you’ve gotten from him yet. Maybe even bigger than your wedding day. He releases you and takes a look at you. A flicker in his eyes catches your attention and he bites his lips to stop himself from revealing his thoughts.

Jake steps into the living room to turn on music as Josh pulls you to the side. “Thanks for doing this. It means alot to him. Both of us really. I can’t remember the last time we had a proper birthday party.” he smiles.

“Of course. I would do anything for you guys. I think today will be really special.” you smile back.

People slowly began to filter in, until the house was teaming with familiar smiling faces. You were surrounded by love as everyone gushed over your decorations and food. People mingled, filling the house with laughter for hours. When it was time to do the cakes you called everyone to the kitchen, placing Jake and Josh behind their respective cakes. They may be twins but they had very different tastes. One chocolate, one vanilla just as they requested.

After a round of ‘Happy Birthday’ the guys blew out their candles, cheeks tinted pink with a hint of embarrassment. You cut the cakes and passed out pieces to all the guests. As you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching the party go on, Jake approached you.

“No cake? You love cake.” he asks, offering you a bite.

“I do love cake, I just don’t want any right now.” you lie. Truth being that the thought of the sugar was making your stomach turn.

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?” he laughs, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Now, when do I get to open my present?” he whispers in your ear.

“Well…I guess you can have it now. Only if you want…” you smirk.

“I want.” he nods.

You grab his hand weaving through the crowd of people, and pull him into your bedroom.

You retrieve the small box from the dresser, hand it to him and sit on the edge of your bed anxious for him to open it.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as he pulls the black satin ribbon. His eyes flick to yours in excitement and you nod your head for him to continue. Ripping the brown paper he sees the box and furrows his brow. You swallow nervously as he pulls the lid off of the small yellow box, revealing a pair of small brown boots, an exact replica of his own.

He looks to you confused, “I love them but I don’t think they are gonna fit, baby…” he laughs.

“You had the last part right.” you smile up to him.

His eyes widen as he drops to his knees in front of you. Placing the tiny boots on the bed his hands press to your stomach, “You aren’t…” he breathes out.

“I am. Twelve weeks.” you smile at him, running your fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure? Is everything….” he questions nervously.

“Everything is perfect Jakey. It’s perfect.” you say, eyes filling with tears.

He stands pulling you up from the bed and into his arms, burying his face into your neck as you feel a drip of wetness against your skin.

“Every single day.” he breathes out. “Every single day whether I’m here, or gone, or even just in another room, every day I wished for this. For us. For something physical that I could hold in my hands that shows how much I love you. A piece of you, and a piece of me woven together forever.”

He grabs your face and presses his lips to yours in a kiss that renders you weak at the knees. “You are the love of my life. This one and the next. Always.” he whispers.

He drops back to his knees and places his hands on your tiny, barely noticeable bump, “But you. You are the light of my life. This one and the next.” placing a soft kiss on your rounding skin.

Grabbing his hands pulling him back to stand with you, you tell him, “You you want to tell your brothers?” you smile.

“Do you want to tell them?” he asks.

“Are you going to be able to keep it from them?” you say playfully.

“No, you’re right. Josh will know as soon as he sees me.” he laughs.

“Go get them. Tell them I have a surprise for them.” you say.

He scurries out of the room, as you nervously pace the floor. Minutes later they all come bounding in, drinks in hand full of smiles.

Jake walks over to stand next to you and their gaze all turns from confusion to intrigue.

“You’re scaring me…” Sam says, looking between the two of you.

Jake puts his arm around you as he begins to talk, “I know we have been busy lately, we worked our asses off on this last tour and now it’s time to relax. We have earned it. We need to recover, and rest. Rest as much as we can actually. Because in a few short months you’ll all be uncles, and none of us will ever get to sleep again.” he smiles.

Josh immediately sprints over to you, grabbing you in his arms, lifting you and spinning you around in a circle. “I knew it! I just knew it! You were glowing and I swear you have never looked more gorgeous than you have recently! I knew it!” he exclaims.

“Alright, alright, hands off, careful with my girl.” Jake says, prying him off of you as he sets your feet back on the floor.

Sam and Daniel rush you next, asking you a thousand questions and smiling ear to ear. They each take turns touching your belly, even though the bump is hardly there. You know they just want to feel close to you, so you let them. You could still hardly believe it yourself. It was real and it was finally happening.

–

The nursery was painted his favorite shade of blue, a deep and moody teal that he couldn't wait to cover the walls with. The clothes were hung, and the drawers filled with all the necessities, awaiting their first use. It could be any day now, and you both anxiously awaited the arrival of your baby. Jake spent every waking second caring for you in these last days, waiting on you hand and foot, bending to your every whim. At night he would disappear off to the nursery, rocking in the chair in the dim lamp light as he read his books to pass the hours. Each night he would fall asleep in the chair, book spread open on his chest, lost in the dream world of pirates and ocean exploration. You would take off his glasses, and cover him with the quilt that hung on the rail of the crib. A beautiful vintage style ocean motif, he hand picked himself. Your nights wouldn't be like this for much longer, so you let him sleep, remembering back to the day you met him when everything changed.

–

In total, labor lasted about 15 hours. Jake never left your side. He kept you laughing most of the time, him and Josh of course, who had become a permanent fixture by your side the last few days. Said he had a ‘feeling’, and in typical Josh fashion, he was right. When they administered the epidural, Jake turned white as a ghost but held strong for you as the pain slowly started to fade away with each passing second. Hours later and after 20 minutes of active pushing, at 10:53pm, you heard the beautiful cries of a small pink baby. Looking over to Jake, you saw a tear spring from his eye as he watched them place the small perfect thing on your chest.

“It’s a girl…” he said tearfully, his beautiful smile plastered across his face.

As she opened her eyes and looked at you for the first time, all you saw was him.

–

“We have to decide on a name darlin’ they are coming for the paperwork…” Jake laughs.

You had been going back and forth on names for days. Deciding to not find out the gender until birth, you kept your options open as far as names. You always said, “I will know when I see the baby…” meanwhile Jake had a list a mile long of names he liked.

After a final few hours of deliberation you had decided and the name couldn’t have fit her more perfectly. Jake had thought of the perfect middle name. You actually cried when he suggested it. Like it was always meant to be hers. Maybe it was the hormones, you weren’t totally sure, but you knew you would never love anyone more than you loved this man.

As you filled out the paperwork and sent it away with the nurse, you watched as Jake held his daughter, his eyes never leaving her. You knew she stole a piece of his heart for her own, and you’d never been more glad to give up what was once yours.

A knock at the door interrupted their moment as he spoke to her, “Are you ready to meet your uncles? They are ready to meet you…” he cooed.

Slowly and quietly they entered the room one by one, with flowers and cards. They all gave you hugs and ‘congratulations’ before nervously making their way over to Jake.

They sat cautiously on the couch as Jake turned to them. His eyes flicked to each one of them as he introduced her, “Boys, this is my daughter, Margot Carter Kiszka.”

In unison they all cooed her name, “Margot…”

Jake gently handed her to Josh, who instantly had tears running down his face. “Just as beautiful as your mama.”

Josh handed her to Sam, as she squirmed in her swaddle. A look of panic crossed his face as she did it, causing Jake to laugh, “You’re okay, just keep her swaddled.” You felt your heart grow three sizes as you watched him effortlessly glide into the new role of dad.

“I love her name, it fits her so well. You look like a Margot don’t you? Oh, Rose is gonna love you” he tells her. “Carter though…where did that come from.” he asks Jake.

“Well, that was my idea.” he says, sweeping the hair from your neck. “That’s actually where we met.” he smiles down at you.

“Oh, Carter Vintage? The guitar place?” Danny says with realization.

“Exactly it.” Jake replies.

Sam passes Margot to Danny and he holds her in his arms like she's his own. Looking at her with the same adoration that you’ve seen on all of their faces. You know right then that this baby will have the best life surrounded by people who truly love her.

–

The first days at home were hard. Karen had come down from Michigan to help those first few weeks. You were thankful for the help of someone who had raised four children. You loved her endlessly, and made sure she knew it every chance you got. Something about becoming a mother had made you immensely grateful for the ones in your life.

You had slowly worked your way into a routine. The days were getting easier. Margot was a great eater, and a great sleeper. You and Jake constantly reminded yourselves how lucky you were to have such an ‘easy baby’. Jake had fallen into the dad role so easily, like he was always destined to care for someone in this way and being a mom was something you were learning and adapting too. You were so glad you had each other to lean on when things got rough in the middle of the night, but both of you knew you couldn’t imagine life any other way now. As long as you had each other, nothing else mattered.

–

Rolling over in bed you found Jake's spot had grown cold. The clock read midnight and you knew it would only be a matter of time before Margot would wake up ready to feed. Padding quietly up the stairs you saw the light already on in the nursery, and knew that's where Jake must be. As you peeked through the crack in the door you saw her asleep on his chest, his arms holding her against him as his snores filled the air and his book sat open on his leg. You knew he hadn’t left her side in hours and likely wouldn't for the rest of her life. You removed his glasses and closed his book, setting them on the dresser. You gently removed her from his arms and placed her safely in her crib. You covered him with his favorite quilt and turned off the lamp, leaving him to his dreams.

You knew at that moment that you would have as many babies as this house could hold. Fill it to the brim with tiny versions of him that had his eyes and your smile. You wanted to watch as he taught them how to read, or told them about the many wonders of the ocean. He would show them pictures of when he traveled around the world with you by his side and tell stories of the band he made with his brothers. He would support their dreams just like his parents did his. He would be at every dance recital, every soccer game and every talent show, cheering them on, and then when they were ready, he would buy them their very first guitar from Carter Vintage, and tell the story of how he met you there and his life changed forever.

fin.

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