#so when he cries bc his daughter doesn’t like him i leave the room so i can laugh. and when he asks dumbass questions i dont respond.

[luv4fushi]

gojo satoru who loves you so much it physically pains him.

gojo satoru who, despite being labeled as a playboy, has never allowed himself to be vulnerable. so when it comes to you, he finds himself so breathless that he can’t seem to find the rational part of his brain.

gojo satoru who convinces himself that he’s not in love with you until he can’t anymore. he needs you in the way a parched desert needs an oasis. he realizes it sooner than he wants to.

gojo satoru who pushes you away when you get into your first fight with him, burdening himself with his thoughts and blaming himself for hurting you. you find him crouched, curled into himself, his fists clenched and fingers white from the tension.

gojo satoru who turns into jelly when he’s with you. his hands never leave your body. he kisses you whenever he’s been apart from you for more than an hour. the infinity that coats his body like a thick layer of skin disappears because he’s sure he’s safe in your presence.

gojo satoru who cries during his wedding. he sees you walking down the aisle, body draped in the finest white fabric. you look so beautiful that his heart freezes and he has to cover his face to hide the fact that the tears won’t stop falling. he’s so, so happy.

gojo satoru who is ecstatic when you give him a pregnancy test with two lines on the little screen. he picks you up and hugs you like his life depends on it. he spends your entire pregnancy reading books on how to become a father. he paints a room for the nursery and refuses your help because the fumes are bad for the baby. he presses his ear against your warm skin and whispers sweet words to the unborn child.

gojo satoru who sobs when the baby is born. he’s holding your hand and thanking you profusely. thank you so much, my love. the baby is beautiful. you did so well. i’m so proud of you. he’s wiping away your sweat and tears, the anxiety leaving his bones when he notices you relax against the hospital bed. he can’t stop sniffling when he hears your baby whine in the nurse’s arms. his frosty blue eyes are soft—the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen them.

gojo satoru who yells, “where are my girls?” when he comes home from a mission. he picks your daughter up first, twirling her before setting her down and planting a sloppy kiss to your temple.

gojo satoru who changes the world for his daughter because he refuses to let her youth be stolen away like his had. he tells you that he doesn’t mind the strenuous work he has to do—as long as his favorite girls are safe and have a happy future ahead of them.

a/n: a little more casual ~! it doesn’t have the regular layout i use as u can see (ㄱ.ㄱ) but it’s bc i wanted to get this out quickly after i saw a cute clip from a kdrama >_< hope u enjoyyyy!!!

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo is such a sweetheart #he’s so mischaracterized #gojou satoru x you #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #i love gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru

[princessbrunette]

line cook turned baby daddy jj who definitely cried his heart out when he held his newly born daughter to his bare chest for the first time. just sobs his heart out. he’s an empath guys. he’s got his backwards cap on and is still wearing his apron when he shows up, wide eyed and sweating after getting the call you’d went into labour. and you know he doesn’t leave your side basically at all, completely ignoring his manager blowing up his phone cause there’s way more important things going on (aka the birth of his c h i l d). he basically gets his hand broken and he won’t complain but it hurt like a bitch, but that all goes out the window when this slightly cone-headed screaming wriggly little babe is put on his chest and he’s just an absolute mess. you’d think he had the baby at that point.

- 🧸

this kills me bc yes :((((

you couldn’t call, in too much pain — but you shot him a text just hoping and praying he’d see it. it read a simple ‘in labour come asap’, and luckily for you — jj did see it, but unluckily for him he saw it not only mid shift, but mid lecture from his manager about being responsible.

“the way you act, represents us as a company jj and—”

his eyes are glancing down at his phone when it dinged with a notification, practically falling out of his head as he reads what it says. he’s suddenly moving without thought, yanking his apron off and throwing it aside, nodding quickly as if he gave a shit about what he was being told.

“uh-huh, yeah for sure and i really understand but i gotta go, i really gotta go—” hes already headed for the exit.

“excuse me?”

“my girls having her baby!” he hollers as he leaves, a faint “woohoo!” heard from the restaurant as he sprints off. of course, john b had received the same text, nearly knocking JJ off his feet when the twinkie swung round the corner with the gang inside, barely slowing down for him to jump in.

he gets there in time of course to hold your hand through the screaming and the refusal and the fear and the crying (mostly your own, but you were squeezing his hand pretty tight.) until before he knows it the room is hit with calm, a babies cry ringing out through the air.

he’s so focused on you he almost forgets the acknowledge the baby at first, making sure you look okay and healthy, cupping your face breathlessly like he was the one screaming as he presses millions of kisses to your cheeks, laughing gleefully. “you did so good baby, so good holy shit. you’re a fuckin’ weapon.”

the baby gets brought for you to hold on your chest and he goes real quiet, the reality of the situation settling in as he stares at the life the two of you created there in your arms. it had been such a long nine months, and today had moved so fast he hadn’t had time to process the fact that the baby was finally going to be here for real.

his ears are still ringing, and he can’t hear what you’re saying as you talk to the baby, holding her on your chest. he’s just staring, looking at all the babies features. a sweet baby girl, still clammy and bloody but beautiful none the less, the spitting image of you already, he can tell, and wouldn’t have it any other way. he’s still stroking your head, fingers twisting the hair at your sweaty scalp almost nervously as he just stares in shock.

exhausted, you look up at him. he recalls you looking as beautiful as the day you met him. “you wanna take her jayj?”

the nurse helps the pass-over and he sits in the chair beside the bed, this clammy warm baby tucked into his chest, so real, moving and whimpering. you’re smiling, tiredly but encouragingly in his direction, your first ever look at JJ as a dad. he looks back at you, lips slightly agape, eyes wide, then back at the baby, then back at you, then back at the baby and he just crumbles, bursting into tears.

“oh jayj.” you whisper hoarsely in awe, tears filling your own eyes at the sight.

“shes so beautiful man, i swear— i swear to you right now, no one is ever gonna hurt you okay? not as long as daddies around.” he rambles to the baby, lifting her to kiss her damp head, careful not to let his salty tears drip on her perfect skin. “my baby girl.” he adds in a whisper, rocking her before letting out an embarrassed laugh, looking back at you. “dude i’m a wreck, i feel like i just gave birth.” he comments, which gets a laugh out of the nurses.

after the baby gets checked by the midwives you’re allowed visitors, JJ handing the baby back to you so he can go and tearfully retrieve the group to bring them in. he walks into the waiting room and of course they all stand up instantly, waiting for him to say something. “y’all wanna meet my daughter or what?”

#🧸 anon #dad!jj #linecook!jj

[scourgeofgotham]

Red-Tailed Hawk and the Bat

chapter six

Warnings: SMUT 18+

Graphic Sexual Content, Crying, Unresolved Trauma, Dom/Sub, Praise! Kink, Begging, DD/LG, Stockholm Syndrome, the reader has PTSD

A/N: so the hawk fell in love with the bat

“what a stupid bat…”

“what a sick masochistic hawk.”

anyways i redid the ending of this chapter bc i hated it <3

“You see Bruce, she's all mine. Tomorrow, you're gonna be dead.”

His head was spinning, getting insanely dizzy after watching what was happening to Batgirl.

My daughter...

My little Canary?

Jason and my little girl?

“I have to go save Batgirl.”

“Are you alright Master Bruce? I tried to stop you from watching it, I deeply regret not doing so.” Alfred called out.

My daughter...

I adopted her after her parents were brutally murdered, she was almost 9 years old. She’s mine. I remember the first time she ever called me Dad...

“Bruce? Are you okay?” Coming from Oracle’s line, snapping Bruce out of his thoughts.

“I'm–I’m fine.” He lied through his teeth. “I'm gonna find my daughter and make him pay for what he's done to her.”

“Bruce, I looked through camera footage and there's none, there's no way how to track her. I tried tracing the video to see if I can get something but I can’t… He’s ten steps ahead.” Oracle said with sorrow.

“He’s made sure you can’t find her, sir.”

“Plus it appears she doesn’t want to leave him.” Oracle reminds him. “She has Stockholm, Bruce.”

I know…

“Losing Master Jason affected her more than we originally thought Master Bruce.”

“I just gotta get through to her…” He stated.

I remember the first day I brought her home.

She was crying in her room, singing softly to ease her pain.

“it just takes some time

little girl,

you're in the middle of the ride

everything will be just fine

everything will be alright”

I stepped into her room and sat down next to her, hunched in the same fetal position.

“I lost my parents when I was your age.”

She stopped crying and looked at me,

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course,” I opened my arms out to hug her, wanting to make her feel like she was home. She nuzzled her head into my chest and cried while letting me hold her.

“It’s okay my little Canary.”

//

The Arkham Knight went over to the couch in his safe house and picked up bags and brought them over to the bed.

“I bought you some new lingerie, I figured I must treat you. I hope you're still the same size.” He sat down next to her, petting her head. “First go take a shower, and then you can give Daddy a show.”

“Daddy? this morning...”

“What happened this morning?”

“You were next to me, I saw your face. You have the prettiest blue eyes, and you have a scar...” she said quietly, losing track of her thought. “It's a scar... shaped like a J, just like Jason's...” she said tears dotting along her lash line.

“Princess, that was all a dream...” he lied.

“Oh...” she whispered. “When can I see your face?”

“Tomorrow night. After I kill Bruce.”

“Why do you have to kill him? Why can't we just run away and be together forever?” she whines.

“He has to pay for what he did.” The Knight growled. She flinched, “I'm sorry... Please don't be mad...” she whispered. He immediately softened, rubbing her face. “I'm sorry Peanut, I don't want to take it out on you.” Tears started running down her face, “It's–Okay.” Nuzzling her face in his chest.

“What can I do to make it better?” he asked, putting his hand on her head, petting her hair. “I promise– I won’t look– but, can we– shower together?” she sobbed.

He was torn inside, what if she did look? What if it was all ruined? But the thought of her skin being against his fully, to wash her hair, to take care of her, and to gain even more of her trust.

“You can’t open your eyes,” he stated. “As soon as I take off the mask, eyes closed.”

“I promise Daddy.” She lied, she wanted to see him, any little bit that she could.

He led her into the shower, turning it on. He made sure it was the perfect temperature for her, knowing she loves it boiling. He started taking off her robe. He led her into the shower, “I’m gonna start getting undressed, no looking.” He demanded.

He took off his helmet, accidentally looking into the mirror and almost punched the glass. He took off the Arkham Knight suit, starting with the top. He pulled down the zipper and removed the heavy layer of body armor. She watched behind the curtain, looking at all the scars that littered his body.

All the gashes, and current bruises, were barely an inch apart. Next, his tactical belt dropped to the floor, he picked up his belt, walked out, and came back. While he was gone he took off his boots.

When she saw his face...

She knew she wasn't imagining things,

he looked so beautiful. She couldn't see the scar, but she saw his striking, perfectly imperfect face and melted. His black fluffy hair, stuck up ever so slightly.

“Jay...” she whispered.

“You're not looking, right Belle?” he called out. “No!” she said immediately, lying straight through her teeth.

The last thing was his pants, he unbuttoned the top, then pulled down the zipper. His pants fell soon after leaving him in his boxers.

His thighs were covered in scars, some from burns, some from drills. But they looked amazing, I wanna ride them for hours...

His boxers fell not too long after, walking toward the shower.

She immediately got under the hot water and closed her eyes, making it seem like she was being good the entire time. She heard the shower liner pull back and heard him getting in. Once he was fully in she couldn't contain herself anymore. She hugged him and started nuzzling into his chest.

“You wouldn't be doing this if you saw my body,” he whispered.

“I don't care, I love you,” she replied.

She opened her eyes and little bit and looked at his chest, on his right side a huge scar. An R, the Robin symbol. She unwrapped one of her arms and place her hand on top of the symbol, tracing it with her fingers. She went over to the scar and kissed it. He stiffened, immediately regretting saying yes.

He rested his head on hers, already having to lean forward due to his back. He closed his eyes a little bit, trying to let himself take in the warm embrace. She nuzzled her head into his neck and left sweet little pecks. She left a kiss on the big scar on his neck, making sure he knew that she was kissing this scar for a reason.

“I mean it... I love you,” she whispered in his ear. Her other hand traced the scars on his back, making him shiver. She stopped tracing the Robin scar and went down to trace lines up his happy trail. He eventually wrapped his arms around her pulling her in close. “I love you too Belle,” he whispered. “I love you more Jay,” she whispered inaudible. Her hand that was giving his stomach attention moved down to his thighs, circling all of the burn scars and the twisted scars.

“Alright lemme wash you Peanut.” He said pulling away from her. She let go of him, facing her back to him. He moved her ever so slightly so he could bend down. He had shampoo in his hands, squirting some on his palm, bending down to put it down, and then rubbing them together.

“Alright bend your neck back for me sweetheart.” She leaned backward and shivered when she felt his hands running through her hair, slathering lavender-scented shampoo on her scalp. Once it was all mixed in he turned her around and had her stand under the showerhead, he helped her get out all of the soap off her hair.

He spun her around again and held her close to him, kissing her head. He leaned down and grabbed the conditioner, squirted it on his hands, and rubbed it in. He then grabbed the body wash and lathered it on her body. “Arms up.” he blurted out, causing her to jump. He chuckled, kissing her head.

She put her arms up, giggling when she felt a sudden hand rubbing soap on her arms. When he was done rubbing her arms, he turned her around and then he went to her thighs. She started giggling even more, sensitive to his touch. He kneeled to get her calves and her feet. While looking at her thighs he decided to kiss the sporadic puffy scars that almost blended into her skin.

“I never want to see a fresh cut on your beautiful smooth skin, you hear?”

She nodded her head, smiling at how sweet and gentle he was. He stood back up and washed out her conditioner. She reached out trying to find his face. Once she found it, she grabbed his jaw and pulled him toward her, and kissed him, “ I love you,” she mumbled against his lips. She pulled away, running her finger down his jaw. “If you let me see all of your scars, I'll take all that pain away and fill it with my love,” she blurted out.

He was frozen, I want to be hers.

He wanted to let her see him,

but what would happen?

Will his angel love him for who he is,

does she even love me anymore?

“Jason…” she whispered

His eyes widen, staring at her, who stopped closing her eyes.

“I love you Jason…” she declared.

“I don’t care about any of these scars, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” He smiled as she quoted Jane Austen.

“I’m irrevocably in love with you.” she said as she had stars in her eyes.

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #arkham knight #fluffy fluff

[moregraceful]

I was so brave and talked myself out of running off to Europe away from stress stuff bc of the cons (contains Europeans) . If you could spare some kaapo thoughts in these trying times, ya girl would appreciate it greatly 💕💕💕💕

- 💖

Oh 💖 anon, I am proud of you for not running away to Europe. Things are so hard and stressful sometimes, but all we gotta do is push through. I hope you're okay. If there is anything I can do, please let me know.

Here's part of a Kaapo/Vitali wish baby fic that I don't remember why I was writing and also don't know why I stopped writing. This does not really have an ending but I hope you enjoy Kaapo's early 20s agonies anyway.

;;

Kaapo’s not proud of it and he’ll go to his grave admitting it, but his first thought when he sees the baby is oh fuck.

She’s small. Blonde like Kaapo but even sleeping she’s a dead-ringer for Vitali, her big ears and sharp nose. Kaapo knows that if he wakes her up, her eyes will be the same color as Vitali’s.

Her tiny fists are clutching a blue fleece blanket and she’s swaddled up tight in a gray blanket. Kaapo’s heart aches as he looks at her in her box.

He knows that, like, wishbabies are indestructible until you touch them. That’s just how it goes, a law of the universe. Wishbabies don’t get hurt until they get picked up by their parent. But it hurts that his daughter he wished into existence while he was high last night is just in a cardboard box at his front door. Was she there all night? How long was she waiting?

He takes a deep breath and picks her up.

Her eyes open slowly and—yeah, she’s Vitali’s kid all right. Same blue eyes. Same mouth that smiles at Kaapo.

Then she starts crying. Kaapo ducks inside.

He’s not prepared for a baby at all and he spends about fifteen minutes trying to tough it out before he gives up. He’s good with kids, he practically raised his brother, but it’s 8am and he’s holding a whole baby, his baby, his and Vitali’s baby, and she’s crying, and the heartache in his chest is rapidly turning into panic. He calls Chris who hears the baby crying and comes over immediately, Mika in tow.

Like, they’re fine. Their wishbaby is old enough for daycare. They don't have a newborn. Mika’s carrying a diaper bag when Chris bangs on the door and Kaapo opens it.

“Oh, Jesus,” says Chris. He looks startled. “Okay, didn’t know about you and Kravvy, but—”

“You can’t tell,” says Kaapo. He’s been pacing in his living room for the past twenty minutes and his baby has not stopped crying. He has nothing, no baby supplies, nothing to take care of her. He doesn’t even know where to get started with any of that, but: “You can’t tell him.”

He steps back to let them in. Mika is shaking his head. “Kaapo, we wouldn’t have to say anything. Everyone will know when they see her.”

Kaapo holds his baby close to his chest. “He can’t know,” he says, desperately.

“The whole point of wishbabies,” says Chris, gently, “is that they push you forward.”

Kaapo is too young for a kid. He’s too young for a relationship that involves kids. His head hurts and his heart hurts and deep down he’s still wondering how long his daughter was lying in a cardboard box before he opened the door. Will she remember how long she was lying there before her stupid dad thought to follow up on the knock on his door? Will her first memories be that she was alone? She can’t have a life growing up like that.

He kisses her head and holds her close, bouncing her in his arms. “What do I do?”

“Breathe,” says Mika. He claps a hand on Kaapo’s shoulder. Kaapo didn’t even realize he was hyperventilating until Mika said that. “Kaapo, take some deep breaths.”

Kaapo breathes shakily. His daughter quiets down too, loud cries turning soft. He kisses her head again. “I can’t do this,” he says. “I can’t do it alone.”

“Kaapo, whose face do you see when you look at her?”

But if I tell him, what will he do? Kaapo wants to say. What if he says it’s not his baby, even though everyone can see that it is? What if he leaves, what if he says he can’t, what if he doesn’t want to, what if he doesn’t care enough to stay? What if Kaapo tells him their daughter came in a cardboard box and Vitali asks why Kaapo left her alone?

Instead of all that he says, “Vitali doesn’t have job security to have a child.”

Chris levels him with a flat look. “And you do?”

Kaapo winces. His baby whines softly and pushes her head against his chest. He cups her head and makes himself stand up straight.

"You have to tell him," says Mika. He rubs Kaapo's back, an oddly tender action for him around Kaapo. Usually he's just bullying Kaapo. "It isn't fair to him if you don't."

"It's not like you two," says Kaapo. When he looks at Mika, the expression on his face makes Kaapo want to bury his face in his baby's soft hair and never look up again. "It's easier for you two. You have each other."

How does he even explain it to them? That Kravvy doesn't think much of him besides that he is fun to hang out with? That they're not together, not even a little bit? That the trade rumors and expectation of failure haunts them both so much that he's afraid to commit anything to words and Kravvy won't say anything to Kaapo outright? That they spend most of their time together showing each other TikToks in their native languages and ineptly explaining the jokes until midnight? They are old and read books and listen to records. Kaapo was high last night and his baby came to him in a cardboard box.

"Did your son," he says, haltingly, "did he come in a cardboard box?"

Maybe that was the most disturbing part that he's afraid to say to Kravvy, who is such a family man that he sends his kid cousins back in Russia little gifts from places they visit on the road. 

"Oh, no," Chris says with a laugh. "He was in a wicker picnic basket."

"They come to you how you understand them best," says Mika. He's still rubbing Kaapo's back and it is unfortunately making Kaapo calmer. "She came to you how you and Kravvy will know to love her best."

For Kravvy, a gift, thinks Kaapo. For him, perpetual guilt. Or perhaps something he wanted so badly that she came like a package he ordered from the universe before he could think twice about it.

"Okay," says Kaapo. He kisses his daughter's head. "Okay."

#💖 anon #cage replies #unfortunate birdcage fanfictions

[delicatetragedies2]

Major Tw ⚠️ Bad Home Life and anything Self Deprecating + Death⚠️

Last post was all over the place. But here I am again… too instead talk about one thing. My home life.

For my whole life I’ve never truly had a stable place to call home. When I was younger I was a little more oblivious to this but the older I got the more miserable I became.

First it was with my mom and stepdad. They hardly ever got along and because of the constant fighting and yelling I grew this hatred and resentment. I used to tell him I hated him during the fights. It would make me feel guilty after but I 11-12 at the time. Just days before my 15th birthday I was the one to come home and find my step dad in the garage on the floor. He committed un-alive and wasn’t able to be saved. It was too late.

About a year later my mom had crawled her way back up and thought she could start over. Get a better life. She started going on dates, getting to know people. Then one day, I’m just supposed to accept and man moving it. I have no idea who he is, but oh boy would I learn. This man, my mom still current boyfriend, raised absolute fucking hell. He’s an alcoholic who thrives on putting people down. I’m 19 now. And still deal with his shit. He ruined the last years of my adolescence and minority. He’s traumatized me to the point I can’t even take my dog barking without my heart jumping to my throat.

This man has thrown things, kicked things, broken things, abused my mom, tried hurting my dog, told me if I brought a kitten home he’d kill it, etc. he’s called my mom and I a bitch. He tells his daughter and me that we’re lazy and do nothing around the house even though he’s The one that hides outside all day to drink after work.

My mom had a baby with him, so now I have a baby brother I feel inclined to protect. This whole situation has made me fall back into old habits. I hide in my room, let it go to filth, sh, can’t eat properly, and cry almost every night. I’ve grown so suicidal, but can’t stand the thought of sitting back beyond the grave knowing my little brother and mother could get abused or even killed.

This man has gotten in my face multiple times that I’ve had to kick him, smack him and scream at him to get away. It’s been to the point that my fiancé has had to block this man from getting too close to me. This man terrified me… and yet my mom says she just pushes his buttons too much. That she pushes things to this point. She blames herself and won’t acknowledge that. She keeps looking for the best in this man because when he doesn’t drink he’s a good person. What she doesn’t understand is that he always goes back to the drink. He always turns to it despite knowing he could have a great life without it. Him and those drinks are who he is. He’s not a nice guy she hopes for.

I’m so done, you know? If I had a way out I’d leave. If I didn’t have a little brother I’d leave. One way or another. But I can’t. I will never forgive myself. So here I am. Hating this man’s guts. I can’t pretend anymore that he’s family. That I like him. That he’s a good person. He makes me sick to my stomach and I want to avoid him at all costs.

What I can’t get over his how hes brought up my dead step father over and over. He always makes us feel like shit bc he says it’s our fault. And on top of that, he will purposely walk around the house with a knife to slit his wrists infront of us. He’ll saunter in a room and just do it like it’s not big deal. Then he’ll mock me and say, “how did you stop? What made you stop? You used to do it sooo much.”

He was never around for the horrid times, and I go out of my way to be miserable to hide it. Like, sorry I have scars. It’s just so triggering that I’m starting it up again. All bc of him.

I literally have nightmares now that he’s killing my mom and I can’t move fast enough or get to her room. Recently I had such a vivid one that her blood curdling screams literally had me waking up in a sweat with the cries ringing through my ear. In the dream all I wanted was for it to stop. For things to not be real. And by the time I woke up, I was in shambles.

I hate my life.

… Also. Just a little extra thing I can never tell anyone. Not even my mother. One night the dude was drunk and I had went out to the garage stupidly. I am lucky nothing happened to me but on that night I was wearing a nightgown and the dude made me sit next to him and kept telling me how I look like my mother. How I’m so beautiful. He kept holding my hands and touched the end of my nightgown. This was so long ago now that it’s irrelevant but it’s stuck with me to this day that it’s just another reason this guy scares me… (And I guess what confuses me after such and interaction is how he is so overprotective if a man even exhibits pedo like actions. Idk if I’m reading too far into that interaction.) All I know is I can hardly stand him after everything.

#toxic people #toxicity #abusiveboyfriend #narcissistic abuse #tw abuse #tw self destructive behavior #i'm so fucking tired #mentally fucked #i am severely unwell #family problems #dont report just ignore #dont report just block #dont report pls #just block me

[pinknatural]

The Emma resurrection at 8 years old is truly consuming my brain you opened a new can of worms and dumped them into my head I cannot stop thinking about it.

Like does she remember purgatory? Does she appear half-feral eyes flashing and a growl in her throat ready to lash out? Does Jack hurtle over in the unsteady sprint of toddlers and throw himself at her and call her sister and she’s so shocked that it isn’t an attack that she doesn’t react.

Does Dean’s breath catch as he recognizes her, from her eyes or her brand or her scared expression. Does he whisper her name. Does Sam flee the room partly to not scare her but mostly out of overwhelming guilt?

How do they talk her down do they have to put food down and move away while she eats it distrustfully and Jack just babbles away about Dean’s cooking and his favorite foods and how he wants to show her his room

Does she try to stay awake for days bc she doesn’t trust them and then pass out from exhaustion and wake up with her face washed in a soft bed and realize maybe it’s okay

Does Cas reach out to her because he has the least history and an understanding of being not a human and of forgiveness

Jack was angry, is the thing. Angry in the way little kids are angry, but he has powers and it's never a good idea to set him off. And what is the solution? He's upset that he doesn't have a playmate his age, upset that he can't tell the kids at daycare about who he is, can't show them his powers. When reminded about Claire, he stomped his foot and screamed, lightbulbs shattering, and oh, Dean remembered when Sammy would get like this, when the only person who could calm him down was Dean himself, eight years old and Sam's favorite person.

Dean and Cas exchange helpless glances, and Jack's not an only child but with the age gap between him and Claire he basically is, and Dean aches, suddenly. Maybe he and Cas need to have a talk about another kid.

"I'll just MAKE a sibling!" Jack cries, and Dean glances at Cas worriedly before he reaches for Jack.

"Come on, kiddo," he says, because you can't just make a sibling, he doesn't think, but Jack stomps his foot again and gold light bursts out from the kid and Dean has to cover his eyes.

When he can open them again, there's a girl in the room. She has blonde hair and round green eyes, dressed in an oversized jacket and bright pink shirt, jeans that are falling down her legs. Her clothes are covered in blood and dirt and her hair is tangled with leaves and mud and who knows what else, and she looks around with wide eyes, mouth slightly open in shock.

"Oops," Jack says, staring at her.

"Jack," Cas says, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did you kidnap a child?"

But the thing is that...well....Dean recognizes the white jacket and the bright pink shirt, dark stain of blood right in the middle of her chest, if the shirt actually fit her. Dean recognizes the curve of her face and the twist of her eyebrows, and the shade of her eyes, which are rapidly welling up with tears.

She's staring right at Dean and sobbing, heart-wrenching noises pulled from the deepest parts of her, and Dean holds out his hands, showing that they're empty.

"I won't hurt you," he says. "None of us will hurt you."

Jack creeps across the room and clings to Cas' leg, looks up at Dean with wide eyes.

"I didn't mean to," he says. "It was an accident."

"It's okay, buddy," Dean says. He steps closer to the girl, who takes a stumbling step back, nearly tripping on her pants.

"Dean," Cas says. "Do you know her?"

She's choking on her sobs, not looking away from Dean, and his heart twists as he backs up, reaches a hand for Cas. Cas takes it, squeezes.

"Emma?" Dean whispers. Cas's breath catches. "Are you...Emma?"

She nods, wipes snot away with her oversized, dirty sleeve.

"Okay, sweetheart," Dean says, exhaling shakily. "This is Cas, okay? And Jack. We aren't gonna hurt you. Can Cas touch you?"

She shakes her head rapidly.

"He can heal you," Dean cajoles, and she shakes her head again. Her sobs have slowed, but tears are still streaming down her face. "Okay. Do you want to follow me or Cas to the bathroom, get you cleaned up? We won't hurt you." He hopes if he repeats it enough, she'll believe it. She looks at him, then at Cas, then at Jack. Jack lets go of Cas and walks toward her. Emma stares but lets him approach. He holds out a little hand and touches her cheek. Gold light glows, and she doesn't break eye contact as he heals her.

"It's okay," Jack says. She nods and starts crying again.

"Daddy," she whispers, and Dean runs to her side, drops to his knees, wants to touch her but doesn't. "I don't wanna be in the monster forest anymore."

"You aren't," Dean says. "You're safe, here, with us. Cas is my husband and Jack is my son--your brother--and you can have the guest room, and you'll never have to see another monster again."

Emma pushes back the sleeve on her wrist, but the brand isn't there anymore. Jack must've healed it.

"What about..." Emma whispers. She swallows. "What about your brother?"

Cas walks up behind Dean, puts a hand on his shoulder. Dean's gonna have to call Eileen, ask her to bring some clothes for a kid. It's not like Emma can go to a store--not yet, anyway. She already looks overwhelmed, and there's only three people here.

"You don't have to see him," Cas says. "Not until you're ready." Dean swallows, looks at his daughter. She's covered with the blood of Purgatory. She must be eight, he thinks. Too young for what she’s seen.

"He won't hurt you again," Dean promises. "And you can see him when you're ready. I'll keep you safe. I couldn't do it the first time, but I swear, Emma, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you, that I haven't wished I could do it over."

Emma fiddles with her necklace. Dean remembers seeing Lydia put it on her from across the parking lot as he staked out the house. Dean strips off his flannel, and hands it to her. She wipes her face off with it, and then looks at him.

"Okay," she says. "You can touch me."

Dean wraps his arms around her, scoops her up, holds her close, and promises he's never letting her go again.

#supernatural #writingtag #emmanatural #a fic for you

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous 

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end. 

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day. 

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted. 

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts. 

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed. 

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.” 

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok. 

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door. 

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger. 

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there. 

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth. 

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth. 

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment. 

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your  restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence. 

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you. 

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.” 

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him. 

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.” 

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes? 

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-” 

- “Stay away from them!” 

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose. 

-But then you saw it. 

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever. 

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints. 

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it. 

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit. 

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door. 

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you. 

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.  

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door. 

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush. 

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad. 

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you. 

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.” 

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked. 

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out. 

-He hadn’t been gone for that long. 

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in. 

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall. 

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born. 

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins. 

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?” 

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand. 

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you. 

- “Can I help you gentlemen?” 

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets. 

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one. 

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest. 

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk. 

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all. 

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?” 

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you. 

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man. 

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you. 

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position. 

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg. 

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs. 

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest. 

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor. 

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos. 

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still. 

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you. 

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them. 

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open. 

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi. 

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a  while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived. 

-Neither of these things happened so something was up. 

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves. 

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds. 

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth. 

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid. 

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass. 

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them. 

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you. 

- “See easy as hell.” 

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.” 

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks. 

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.” 

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?” 

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor. 

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter. 

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.” 

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.” 

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.” 

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men. 

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you. 

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them. 

-You were hungry anyways. 

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​  @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @bemorefiction​ @ezoyscorner​

#hawks #keigo takami #dad hawks #dad keigo takami #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks x pregnant reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x y/n #todoroki #todoroki shoto #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #dad todoroki #todoroki x pregnant reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dad dabi #dabi #dabi bnha #dabi is a todoroki #bnha #bnha x you

[bumbleklee]

Hihi! I hope you dont mind this request :3 Could you do a headcannon or oneshot with zhongli, xiao, ganyu, hu tao, and a reader? I have this headcannon they’d be a family in a modern au and it’s ndjddjsjjejsehhwje Or Zhongli ‘creates’ (?) a new adepti and xiao and ganyu help raise them like a little sibling fnfnsdjjdjssj The reader would be the youngest sibling :) Hu Tao as the second youngest Xiao as the middle child Ganyu as the oldest And Zhongli as their dad <3

this is so cute im gonna cry (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) i went with a modern au bc my brain is short circuiting tonight lol. also there's chili near the end because brainrot (was listening to the song “the best day” by tswift while reading these so yktv)

it’s very sfw, just cut for length  

your mother passed away shortly after you were born, leaving you and your three siblings in the care of your father

zhongli was devastated, of course, but knew he needed to be strong for everyone

fortunately, zhongli had a well-paying job so your family never struggled

when you were a freshman in high school, ganyu was already in college so you took over her bedroom that you shared with hu tao

without ganyu around to rope you guys in, life at home was total chaos

hu tao loved to play pranks on you and xiao like putting flour in your blow dryer or turning off the internet connection when xiao was fighting a boss in his favorite video game

xiao, like most teenage boys, often retaliated and it was you who had to pull them apart from killing each other

despite the constant sibling bickering and arguing, the three of you had an unexplainable bond and zhongli’s heart melted when he came home from a rough day at work to find the three of you curled up on the couch watching a movie together

zhongli is the best dad in the entire world

he was a “cool” dad, too

he let your house be the party-house as long as everyone gave him their car keys and slept over

he actually liked looking out his bedroom window to seeing you and your friends having the time of your lives in the pool (his motto: you all deserved to have a fun childhood)

he was very comforting too and his speciality was being able to fit all four kids (teenagers) in his arms at once

if zhongli realized you were upset, he would take you out to spend the day with him, window shopping or eating at your favorite restaurant and ending the day with a snuggle in front of the tv (no matter how old you were)

one time, you and hu tao woke up to an eighteen year-old xiao wrapped up in a blanket next to zhongli on the couch

zhongli has special nicknames for all of you (ganyu is ganny, xiao is kiddo and will always be kiddo, hu tao is princess, and you’re bug)

you’re closest to hu tao

she’s two years older than you and is the only one of your siblings who doesn’t treat you like a baby all the time

she’s definitely the rebellious kid and you know all of her hiding spots for things (you would never snitch on her though)

xiao and ganyu are very protective of you

ganyu just wants you to make smart decisions while xiao threatens anyone who comes near you with a romantic interest

it was annoying at first to have such an overprotective older brother but when your very first relationship ended horribly, you were glad xiao was there to kick their ass and bring you ice cream

when ganyu comes home from college, it’s like a celebration

you and hu tao will run at her and nearly tackle her to the ground in excitement

xiao stands around usually but is always happy she’s home too

birthdays are a big deal in your home

zhongli likes to surprise everyone with “blank days until your birthday” gifts as an excuse to spoil you kids 

he lets you do whatever you want on your birthday too

if you want to go a fancy restaurant, sure. if you want to have a huge birthday party at the house, go for it. if you want to stay in your room all day, alright. his mindset is that it’s one day a year that about you and only you

zhongli is so supportive of you guys

if you’re questioning your gender or sexuality, he’ll listen to you

he’s very progressive and all he wants is for you kids to be happy

when zhongli starts dating a man named childe when you’re sixteen, everyone reacts differently

ganyu is excited, happy her dad finally met someone new after so many years of being alone

xiao is indifferent. at first he’s upset, thinking zhongli is going to forget about their mom, but once he reassures him he’s not, xiao comes around

like ganyu, you’re happy for zhongli. you like childe and you know he makes your dad happy so you’re happy

hu tao, on the other hand, is very against it

anytime zhongli tried to date someone new when she was younger, she had thrown a tantrum and cried for her mom

zhongli, not wanting to make his daughter upset, usually broke off the relationship

but now she was eighteen and she couldn’t really throw a tantrum

so when zhongli told everyone he was dating childe and hu tao ran off to the basement, the three of you followed her

you found out that had similar thoughts to xiao and thought zhongli was dating someone new to replace your mother

it took a lot of coaxing and tears but finally, hu tao came to terms with the situation

surprisingly, she had the best relationship with childe after a while

when you’re graduating high school, zhongli realizes all his babies grew up

(he suffers from empty nest syndrome)

“So, what do you think?” You grinned, watching your siblings and father admire your new dorm room. Ganyu and Hu tao exchanged looks before Ganyu nodded her head proudly. 

“Looks great,” She smiled, “It kind of looks like your bedroom at home.” 

“I thought it would look like a hurricane,” Xiao smirked, earning a playful hit on the upside of his head by his older sister. You heard her mutter an insult under her breath. 

“I think it's quite lovely, Bug,” Zhongli says softly. His hands are twisted behind his back and he won’t make eye contact with you. 

You run your hand under the waterfall lights on the wall, hundreds of photos of your family and friends clipped to the strings. Looking around, you realized you dorm was decorated like your bedroom. You had brought the same comforter and pillows from home and even set up your desk exactly the same. Maybe you weren’t so ready to let go of your childhood, either. 

Zhongli was about to open his mouth when your roommate and their parents walked into the dorm. There was a short exchange of greetings before your siblings filed into the hallway. You knew this was goodbye. 

“You can call me anytime. You know that, right?” Zhongli started, toying with your lampshade. “And if you ever feel homesick and need to-”

“I’ll be okay, dad,” You smiled softly. You embraced your father tightly and he did the same to you. After what felt like hours, but was probably not even a minute, Zhongli pulled away. He gazed you adoringly before kissing your forehead and leaving the dorm. 

Ganyu, who had taken a day off from work to be there, held out of her hand to her father. “Weird, isn’t it?” She asked comfortingly. 

“They’re all grown-up,” He mumbled, “All of my babies are grown up.” 

“Oh, dad,” Hu Tao said. She threw herself at Zhongli, catching him off guard.  “We’ll always be your babies.” 

Zhongli mustered a smile on her lips. He ruffled Hu Tao’s hair. “Yeah,” He agreed, “Let’s go eat.”

#brainrot brainrot #platonic #family au #genshin impact #genshin #genshin hcs #genshin self insert #genshin writing #genshin zhongli #zhongli #genshin hu tao #hu tao #genshin ganyu #ganyu #genshin xiao #xiao #genshin childe #childe #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #chili #tartali

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

I just found your stories today and I love your writing. Also I found a new need...I didn’t know I needed Deacon x reader fics (S.W.A.T.).

May I pls be tagged on all of your writing???

I also saw your requests were open and if possible could you write Deacon x Reader fic where they’ve been together a while. During their time together he has repeatedly stated he doesn’t want more kids and the reader accidentally gets pregnant (BC failure). She’s afraid to tell him, but when she does He initially reacts badly, but they get their HEA.

Thank You 🙏

Another One

Pairing: Deacon Kay x Reader

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

——-

“Please don’t be positive” you chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the pregnancy test in your hands. For the past three weeks you’ve been throwing up and you realized that you can’t stand certain scents

A loud crash sounded from the living room and your husband calling out to your younger set of twin boys to stop running in the house filled the once quiet home

“Mommy! Sadie ate my strawberries!” Laila, the oldest of your four kids called out to you on the other side of the door as Sadie, your one year old cries became louder

You loved all four of your children but they really get on your nerves sometimes, hence the reason why you’re all but praying for this test to be negative. You knew that Deacon wasn’t up for another child especially so soon after Sadie but this is what happens when mommy and daddy get their play time, another one gets conceived

Rubbing your temples you released a sigh before cracking the door open only to be met with a scowling five year old and a screaming baby

“Laila I’ll get you more strawberries” before you could scoop up the little one in your arms your husband beat you to it, immediately shushing her cries

“What’s the matter angel?” the eldest sassily rolled her eyes before storming out of your bedroom leaving you two to handle Sadie

“She gets that from her mother” Deacon joked and entered the bathroom with Sadie on his hip. You didn’t bother to try hiding the test from his line of vision

Pregnant

That one word mocked you the longer you looked at it

“Looks like we’re having another one” you held the test up for him to see and his soft features turned stone cold

“What the f-“

“Language”

Clearly upset he sat your daughter on the bathroom sink, eyes burning holes into the side of your head

“We said no more” rolling your eyes you placed the test on the counter before reaching out for the carefree child

“Are you even taking your birth control?” raising his voice a bit you couldn’t help but glare at him like he’s lost his fucking mind

“Deacon you know better than to ask me that stupid question”

“We can’t even manage the four kids we already have much less five, God forbid it’s twins again!” fuming he stormed out of the room while you stayed put bouncing Sadie on your hip, her little babbles bringing a small smile to your face

At least one of us is happy

It wasn’t long after you heard the front door slam shut. Great, he’s taking off. The padding of tiny feet got closer with each passing second as the twins made their appearance

“Mommy, daddy looked mad when he left, is he okay?” Aiden asked while his brother Ethan wrapped his arms around your leg. Ruffling his mass of chestnut brown hair you smiled down at your babies

“Everything’s fine, who wants to watch a movie?”

———

It was well past eight o’clock, you had just put the twins down and was on your way down to the kitchen when the front door opened and Deacon walked in holding a bouquet of flowers

“Babe” he called out to you but you walked right past him, still upset with the way he behaved earlier

“I’m sorry” he followed you into the kitchen but you still ignored him as you started cleaning up the mess the five of you made during dinner

“Whatever Deacon, you said your part” he took the dirty plates out of your hands and placed them to the side stopping you in your tracks

“Y/N” using his thumb and index finger he tilted your head up, brown eyes locking with yours

“Four kids is a lot, especially with our line of work” he’s seriously choosing to go down this road squirming away from him you felt your blood boil

“Deacon don’t do that, don’t try to tell me how hard it is because we’re both S.W.A.T. officers, we both work on the same team, we both know the dangers of the job and we both knew what we were getting ourselves into when we decided to get married and start a family” your body shook with pent up rage as you closed the gap between you both

“We both said that we didn’t want to have another one after the boys and what happens, Sadie came along almost three years later. You can’t control when things like this happens Deacon” sighing he propped up against the counter

“I know and I’m sorry for reacting the way way I did, you didn’t deserve that and neither the baby” pulling you closer into him he placed his hands on your hips. Looking into his dark brown eyes you gently rubbed your stomach, small smile etching its way onto your faces

“We’re having another baby” placing his larger hand over yours he lovingly kissed your forehead finally coming to terms with your pregnancy

“It better not be triplets this time” chuckling you allowed yourself to enjoy Deacon’s warm embrace

Standing there in each other’s arms you both knew that this baby would be loved, unexpected or not and taken very great care of. You knew that you both would have to make some compromises along the way to raise five kids but you were ready to do so

“Hondo is gonna flip when he finds out I’m pregnant AGAIN”

#swat imagine #swat #swat cbs #deaconkayimagine #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay #daniel hondo harrelson #jim street imagine #jim street x reader

[auroracalisto]

she will be loved, part two

requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt​: Omggg would it be okay if I send in a request for a part two for “She will be loved”?🥰 It’s soooo cute and I love rereading it because it makes me so happy!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🥰💜💜It’s so softttt

pairing(s): adoptive! dad! elijah x child! female! reader, family! mikaelsons x reader

word count: 1.3k words

warnings: reader has nightmares, written in third person, child reader

author’s notes: okok so i loved writing this, first of all.  considering turning this into a series because i could do so much with this.  that’s kind of why it’s an open ended sort of thing (if you read, it makes sense, i promise).  also writing children is so fun.  like.  i have always been around children bc i’m the oldest grandchild and i also have like,,, five younger siblings.  i just,,, it’s fun to put what i know into writing and it’s really easy for me to describe how a child could act because of how familiar i am with them.  i feel like that’s another reason i like writing this so much is because i am familiar with how they act omg,,, anway enough rambling and if you read all of this, kudos to you, because i probably wouldn’t have.  thanks for the request and be sure to look out for more!!!

part one

"That little," Kol took in a deep breath, closing his eyes.  He sat down on the couch, composing himself.  

Elijah looked over at him, smirking.  "What's wrong, this time?"

"Nothing is wrong," Kol cleared his throat.  "I just... cannot find her, for the life of me."

Elijah's eyes narrowed.  

"Hide-and-seek," he quickly spoke, standing back up.  

"Yes.  And you're a vampire.  You should easily be able to find her."

"Unless," Rebekah said, walking through the room with a laugh.  "Klaus found her first and took her to a better hiding spot."

"Is that really what happened?"

Rebekah shrugged, watching Kol groan and vampire speed off to find little [Your name] and his pain in the ass brother.  

REbekah sat down across from Elijah and she smiled at him as she did.  "How are you?"

Elijah looked at her and rose an eyebrow.  

"With [Your name].  I know how much of a handful children can be."

"Right," Elijah sighed softly.  He sat down the book that he had been reading and he began to frown.  "Her dreams are getting worse."

"Her dreams?  Did you not use compulsion on her?"

"We did.  Klaus and I both did.  Kol tried, as well.  But  it just wears off after a couple of days and the dreams are worse than before."

"Has she been able to tell you what they were about?"

"You've been around [Your name], yes?  She does not often wish to speak much of her dreams.  She'll talk about everything else," he chuckled softly.  He quickly moved to sit up as he heard [Your name] laugh and run through the hallway.  

At this point, Kol wasn't using his vampire speed.  In fact, he was taking his time, taunting that he was going to catch her.  

[Your name] ran into the sitting room, rushing over to Elijah, giggling the entire time.  "Daddy's base!" she quickly exclaimed, climbing onto Elijah's lap.  

Elijah let out a soft laugh and he wrapped his arms around the small girl as Kol came over, his eyes narrowed at [Your name].  He points to his eyes, before pointing right at her.  

"I'm watching you.  As soon as you get up, I'll get you."

"No!" she yelped, laughing as she hugged onto Elijah.  

Kol rolled his eyes before he left the room, leaving Rebekah and Elijah there with [Your name].  Elijah was quiet as he listened to [Your name]'s soft breathing.  

"[Your name]," he softly said, gently shaking her awake.  "Don't go to sleep yet, it's only seven—"

His wishes were drowned out by [Your name] getting comfortable in Elijah's arms.  She was sound asleep in the matter of minutes.  The nightmares of that evening had yet to plague her little mind.  

Elijah looked over at Rebekah with a frown.  "I hate to say this.  But I wonder if we will have to have a witch's help with her dreams."

Rebekah pursed her lips.  "That Bennett witch owes me a favor.  Do you think she will help?"

"And have more people know about [Your name]?  No.  They will not be using her against me or any of us."

"Then I guess we will have to see what else would work."

Elijah frowned but he nodded.  He knew that she was right.  Elijah looked down at the little girl asleep in his arms.  

"I'm going to go put her in bed.  Hopefully, she doesn't sleep too long.  Klaus's last fiasco completely wrecked her schedule."

Rebekah couldn't help but laugh.  "Maybe Klaus should be in charge of fixing it for you since he's the one who ruined it."

Elijah shrugged and stood up, cradling [Your name] in his arms.  He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down in her full sized bed.  [Your name]'s little eyes quickly opened and she looked up at Elijah with wide eyes.  

"Stay," she quickly said, her little voice was barely louder than the clock that ticked away on her wall.  

Elijah frowned softly and he nodded, laying down beside his daughter.  He pulled her into his chest and listened to her once again fall asleep.  

—

Elijah didn't know when he fell asleep, but he knew it had to have been shortly after [Your name] did.  She was out of bed when he woke.  Her clothes from the day before were tossed in her little clothes hamper, but she had made a mess picking out her new outfit for the day.  

Elijah left his daughter's room, searching for her.  

He heard laughter coming from the kitchen and he followed the noise, seeing Klaus literally throwing pancake batter in [Your name]'s direction.  

"What—"

"—stay out of this, brother," Klaus said, glaring in the child's direction.  "She is the one who started this—"

"—started what?"

"She told me I was ugly."

Elijah pursed his lips for a moment, clearly holding back a laugh.  "What?"

"She looked at me and said, Klaus, you're ugly."

"I did not!" [Your name] exclaimed from where she hid behind the island.  

Klaus looked at Elijah, and then placed his hands on his hips like an angry Karen.  

Elijah rolled his eyes and he sighed, walking over to where the little girl sat. "[Your name], did you tell Klaus he was ugly?"

[Your name] quickly shook her head.  

"Don't lie to me."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at Elijah.  Her breathing picked up and the tears immediately began to form.  "What?  I am not lying, daddy..."

Elijah continued to frown at her, prompting the child to cry.  She quickly hugged onto Elijah, shaking her head.  

"I'm sorry, daddy, I didn't—"

Elijah gently rubbed her back.  "If you did, I just need you to be honest, [Your name].  Calling someone names isn't a nice thing to do.  You're a good girl, aren't you?  So why would you call your uncle something bad?"

"I'm sorry," [Your name] cried, looking up at Elijah with tearful eyes.  

"You don't need to tell me sorry.  You need to say sorry to Klaus."

Her eyes widened a bit and she quickly nodded, coming out from behind the island.  She looked up at Klaus, her little face covered with tears.  If she continued to cry, there's no doubt that snot would cover her face as well.  

Klaus frowned as he watched her.  

"I'm sorry..."

Klaus's features softened and he bent down in front of her.  

"Sorry for what?" Elijah asked from behind them.  

"Sorry for calling you names..."

"It's alright, [Your name].  Just... don't do it again, okay?"

[Your name] nodded and quickly calmed herself down, going to hug Klaus.  Klaus sighed and hugged her back, lifting her as he did so.  He sat her down on the counter by the sink.  He grabbed a kitchen towel and gently cleaned up her messy face.  

"These pancakes aren't going to cook themselves, now are they?"

[Your name] watched Klaus with big eyes as she shook her head.  

Klaus smiled.  

Elijah watched as Klaus helped [Your name] carefully stir the rest of the batter before Klaus made the pancakes his daughter so desperately wanted (according to [Your name], not to Elijah).  

Elijah didn't realize how much would go in to being a parent.  However, he knew that she was learning.  Her little heart and her little head was figuring out how to do things as she went.  It reminded him of his family when they were all young.  

Elijah sat down on a stool as he watched his daughter.  

The nightmares that plagued her were truly something for concern.  But she didn't wake up crying the night before.  He was hoping that it was simply because of a traumatic past that he had yet to figure out.  But until then, he would be keeping a watchful eye over her, and he knew his family, Klaus included, would keep their own eyes on the little girl.  

part three

#elijah x reader #dad!elijah x reader #child reader #reader insert #female reader #child reader insert #one shot #series??? #she will be loved #the mikaelsons x reader #mikaelsons #the vampire diaries #the originals #tvd #to #elijah mikaelson x child reader

[gallickingun]

break the glass {in case of emergency} || t.s.

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto needs help, so he hires a nanny. More specifically, he hires you. 

PAIRING: Pro Hero!Shouto x Fem!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, slight violence, etc. WORD COUNT: 21.2k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is at the end of this post!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is the definition of a labor of love. big thanks to @k-atsukidayo, @freckledoriya, and @lady-bakuhoe for keeping me sane. and super shoutout to my love @shoutogepi bc she’s been my hype lady! i hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations because wow has it been a wild ride ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

Shouto’s feet are trudging through the proverbial thick of life.

His ankles twist the further he tries to advance, and with every step forward, another tragedy breaks the fragility of the glass box he now lives in. The etching begins at the center, spreading out into cracks like lightning, threatening to shatter what remains of the clear cage.

And yet, Shouto must put on the mask, he must pretend that everything is fine when in fact he really would rather crumble to the floor with his hands in his hair. There are nights when he presses his palms into his temples, wishing and praying that someone out there might be listening so they can help him to will away the painful throbbing between his eyes. He can’t whimper, can’t make a sound, because if he does, if he withdraws the curtain and allows the world to know how inundated he truly is, then it will all be for naught.

“Daddy?”

Shouto blinks harshly to bring himself out of the vortex of his trepid thoughts, “Hey, love, what are you doing awake?”

Her teetering body scrambles into the room, pawing at the bedsheets as a broken sob parts her lips and shakes her chest. Shouto leans down to tuck his hands under her armpits, jolting her upward so she’s pressed into his chest. Her small hands grip onto the skin of his pectorals, thin fingernails scraping at his flesh. Shouto winces, but cradles her around the back regardless, the warmth of her heated cheek on his collarbone alarming.

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asks, soothing one of his hands through her hair while the other rests splayed against her back, dipping gently to try and ease her crying. She doesn’t answer, hiccupping cries making her whole body shake as she clutches onto him.

“Hey,” Shouto presses his lips to the crown of her head before coaxing her head backward. He tucks his thumb underneath her chin, “Talk to me.”

The little girl’s lower lip is wobbling, eyes doe-like and full of tears, thick white eyelashes dense with the little saltine droplets. She palms at Shouto’s face with one hand, seeming ancient when she whispers, “Why did they take mommy from me?”

And just like that, the glass box shatters.

Shouto feels the explosion, but maintains his composure regardless of the impact. Shards lodge into his throat and lungs, painful twinges jutting into his insides. His voice feels jagged when he speaks next, grating against his esophagus and tongue, “Sometimes the world just isn’t fair, love. I wish I had a better answer for you, but there’s not always a perfect explanation.”

Her bejeweled turquoise eyes behold him, thumbs against his mouth as she stares up at him. Glassy irises are blown wide by frightened pupils, “I miss her.”

She collapses back into him like a star shattering in the galaxy, explosive tears dripping down his chest as she tremors. The implosion of her life plays before him in the form of an empty half of the bed, a bare side of the bathroom, and a nightstand still left unembellished despite having been there for almost two years.

“I miss her too,” Shouto murmurs into the child’s silvery hair.

If he sheds a few silent tears of his own, she does not admonish him for it, instead laying quietly until her tears and shaking sobs have exhausted her tiny body. Her lips part and she begins to drool into the pocket of his collarbone, hands twitching against his chest.

A gentle melody vibrates Shouto’s lungs as he rolls himself to the side, carefully displacing her from his body to the empty half of the bed. The toddler grabs for him as soon as the warmth of his body disappears, and Shouto focuses all of his energy into regulating the warmth of his left side. He brushes his thumb over her cheek, pushing her silken hair from her mouth so it does not stick with her drool.

He chuckles, tucking her locks behind her ear, cupping her cheek with his warm palm, “Good night, Hana.”

The only acknowledgement he receives is a gentle snore that flares her nostrils and expands her chest, small body only looking tinier in the large expanse of the king-sized bed. Shouto lies there in wonder, his heated hand keeping in contact with her body until she halts her shivering.

How did I get so lucky? He thinks to himself, the threat of tears pressing intensely against the backs of his eyelids. He can’t close them, though, because he’s afraid he might miss a moment of his daughter’s sorrow.

Shouto leans forward to press a kiss to her furrowed brow, the familiar weight of his lips on her head giving her the comfort she needs to release the tension in her sleep. Her expression mellows, the crinkles in her forehead smoothing until she looks something akin to peaceful, ethereal.

The last thing Shouto sees before his mind succumbs to the lure of unconsciousness is her silvery hair glistening in the moonlight of the bedroom, her tiny palm wrapped around his index finger, clutching on like he were her lifeline.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“I can handle this on my own.”

“This isn’t just another assignment. This is your daughter, Shouto.”

His nostrils flare, “Yeah, and?”

Fuyumi rolls her eyes, containing herself by taking a deep breath through the nose. Shouto’s eyes wander as Hana teeters around the kitchen with a few crayons and a plush rabbit.

“There’s no reason to keep yourself from admitting you need help, Shouto,” Fuyumi grits her teeth and attempts to appear somehow cheerful, even if just for Hana’s sake. She flexes her jaw, “This is an insanely large house, brother. You could use the extra hands.”

Shouto narrows his eyes, the scar over his left side appearing even more intimidating when his expression shifts, “You’re not moving in here, ‘Umi. I’ll figure something else out.”

His sister runs a hand through her hair, shaking her head as she turns her attention to the toddler bobbing her head to an invisible jukebox as she colors another page in her book. Fuyumi licks her lips, “Listen, will you at least call her? She’s great with kids, and she’s between jobs right now. It could at least turn into a short-term benefit for the both of you.”

After a moment of aggressive silence, Shouto nods. He decides, internally, that his agreement is purely out of the recognition that it will force his sister to let the topic rest.

“I’ll call her.”

“Thank you,” Fuyumi’s chest deflates, releasing a pent-up breath she had been holding in unexpectedly. She sifts her fingers through Hana’s hair, thumbing at her ear gingerly, “I know you hate that I loom over you like another mother, but I just want to make sure that you’re both taken care of.”

Shouto’s expression softens, eyes turning from jeweled beads to something more pliable. His chest tightens at her admission, the reality of their situation doing nothing to lighten the burden on his shoulders. He takes a step towards his sister, praying she can see the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks, “I’ll be okay, ‘Umi. I promise.”

Fuyumi allows herself a moment to take in the sight of Shouto’s twenty-one month old child, watching as she scribbles her crayons onto the coloring book in front of her with as much precision as she can muster. A somber smile tugs on her lips and she sighs, closing her eyes as she readjusts her glasses, “I just worry about you, is all. Taking over a large agency is a lot of work, especially with the added pressure of being a good father.”

“I will be a good father,” Shouto is quick to refute her lofty accusations, the intensity of his voice causing Hana to turn her attention from her book to her father. He narrows his eyes at his sister, “I won’t turn out like dad.”

Holding her hands up in mock-surrender, Fuyumi takes a step back, “I know, Shouto. Trust me, I know.” Her eyes are wide and Shouto feels fear grip his spine like a cold shadow, curling up into him and suffocating his throat. He wants to gasp but he cannot show weakness, not now. Fuyumi inhales a short breath, “You’re the furthest thing from our father. Which is why I think you should seriously consider reaching out, getting another pair of hands on deck.”

Shouto considers her, tilting his head. The implications that his ability at caring for his daughter makes his chest constrict, heart aching in a way he’s never felt before. His eyes dart downward, catching on the silver hair of his child as she sits on the floor, grubby hands gripping at crayons while she smears color all over the pages of her book.

“I’ll call her,” he repeats his words from earlier. “I will.”

Fuyumi reaches out to take her brother into a hug, breathing her peaceful nature onto him like a ghost begging to infiltrate his body. Shouto takes a long drag, lips parted when he wraps his arms around his sister’s smaller frame.

As his sister is leaving, Hana’s eyes focus on the door. Todoroki can’t help himself wonder for a moment if she believes that someone else might come walking back across the threshold, if only she were to look at just the perfect moment. The sun shines on Fuyumi’s figure, forcing a silhouette onto the floorboards of the entryway. If he were to squint the right way, it’s possible he could see her outline there, darkness shaped by the light.

Shouto must bite the inside of his cheek to keep his mind still.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Later that evening, when Shouto has his daughter resting in the crook of his arm, an educational children’s program playing on the television for background noise, he pulls his phone from his pocket to sift through text messages and emails. There are dozens of alerts to sort through, but the one thing his fingers keep returning to is the sight of your contact information in a message forwarded to him by his sister.

If you are every as bit as wonderful and kind as Fuyumi says you are, then Shouto is frightened of what you are capable of, based on your resume and photograph alone.

Not only do you have a stunning personality – caring, gentle, organized – but you have a beautiful outward appearance as well. Shouto notices the curve of your lips, the structure of your jaw and cheeks, and the way your eyes lilt upward at the camera.

The one thing Shouto hates the most about himself, the very being engrained within him to emulate, is that he was brought up worrying about these different kinds of things – the anatomy of a potential candidate.

It’s the Todoroki within him, the lurking presence of his father threatening to stifle his breathing, to suffocate him until Enji is the only glowing ember left in his charred, desolate soul. Shouto sits in the dark, the looming reality that he may very well end up exactly like his father forcing him to press the little green button at the bottom of the screen.

You pick up on the second ring, “Hello?”

“H-Hi there,” Shouto’s voice sticks in his throat.

A gentle laugh from the other end of the line makes his heart stop beating within the confines of his chest, “What can I do for you?”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Shouto has never been so worried about the interior design of his house before.

He realizes suddenly that there are no photographs on the walls, no pictures hanging to tell the sad tale of his life story. The recognition of this little detail only further throws him into a darkness he knows he won’t ever be able to fully crawl out of. Every day he must fight this beast, this unseen presence that sits on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the burden. He’s never wanted to tell his life story, not with the way it played out, especially not now.

Abusive father. Hospitalized mother. Deceased wife.

When the doorbell rings, he pulls himself from his stupor to step forward into the foyer. Shouto takes a deep breath and curls his toes into the rug to ground his body as he turns the doorknob. It’s as if the door stands for something much weightier, a distance currently built between you and him, something he can control.

But when the heavy door gives way to the sunshine outside, your body casting an elongated shadow on the hardwood, Shouto’s ankles lock and his fingers still against metal.

“Todoroki Shouto?”

The sound of your voice, completely unadulterated from the natural static of a phone, makes Shouto’s head spin. He nods, swallowing so hard his throat bobs, “Yes, please come in.”

You kick your shoes off as soon as you step across the threshold, tucking them to the side near the other pairs of dress shoes and sneakers accompanied by little ballerina slip-ons and tiny formal shoes. He notices the way your eyes linger on the pink ballerina slippers that aren’t really shoes at all, more like glorified socks, and he has to hold back a chuckle.

Shouto raises his hand in a greeting, kicking the door closed with his ankle as he turns to face you, “Thank you for meeting me.”

“I appreciate you interviewing me,” you answer him, reaching forward to meet his handshake. You’re grinning when he makes eye contact with you, cheeks round with your smile. “I know that your schedule is very hectic.”

Shouto can’t think about it too much or it makes his brain throb within his skull. He grits his teeth, “Yes, my assistant was able to push out a few other unimportant meetings for this. I do apologize, but my daughter is currently with my sister. I thought it may be best for us to meet first and then decide if it will be a good fit before we introduce her into the situation.”

“I can respect that.” You smile, wrapping your arms around your waist as you stand in front of him. The surprising warmth from his hand sits with you, palm tingling even as it’s tucked between your body. A nervous laugh parts your lips as your feet shuffle, “I wouldn’t want to get too attached to her if you didn’t like me.”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes darting to his toes, “Oh, it’s not you I would be afraid of being incompatible. Hana can be very picky.”

Your thumbs dig into your biceps, rolling your lips together as you consider your reply. A soft padding forward of your feet on the dense rug makes little sound, but still breaks Todoroki’s gaze from the floor.

“You’d be surprised,” your left eye dropping in a wink. “I have quite the effect on people. Especially those who stand three feet and shorter.”

He is shocked to find himself grinning at your jesting remark, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shuffles a step backward from you. You tilt your head, eyes washing over his tall frame, “I’ve been doing this a long time, Mr. Todoroki. Usually children are withdrawn from their caretakers because they fear we’re trying to replace someone more important in their lives.”

You are closer to him now as you stride across the tile. Todoroki feels his chest constrict when you speak, “I’m not here to be anything more than supplemental. You set the boundaries, Mr. Todoroki, and those are what I will abide by without a shadow of a doubt. I’m here to do as much or as little as you need of me.”

It takes him a moment to recuperate, faltering before he replies, “I appreciate that. I-I’ve never done this before. I wasn’t planning on it.”

Shouto notices the way you visibly shrink away from him, understanding the subliminal tones in his words. He holds a hand in the air, palm face-up, “No, that’s not, I just-”

A sigh parts his lips and he looks back down at his feet, but you’re careening forward to save the day before he can dig himself further into a hole he’s already drowning in. You chuckle, “I don’t think many people choose to have children only to set them into the hands of a nanny, Mr. Todoroki. You needed help, that much is clear, and I don’t blame you for reaching out. I think being able to push through your pride and do what is best for your child is not something you should be ashamed of.”

Oh yes, Todoroki thinks to himself with a smirk on his lips, hand outstretched towards you again, He’s going to like you just fine.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

You did not imagine your initial meeting with Todoroki Hana to go like this.

Shouto’s voice is mildly frantic on the other line, which is telling in it of itself. Even upon your first meeting, you knew that he was to be a mild-mannered, easy-going man. He does not seem to be a person who is easily upset by much, so the lilt in his voice is a clear indicator to his mood.

“It’s okay,” you try to remain calm in spite of his fear, praying that your clear head can help him to unwind. “I’m sure she’s fine, Mr. Todoroki. I’m already in the car, on the way to the daycare right now. I’ll go pick her up and call you as soon as I have my eyes on her.”

A breath is exhaled from the other end of the receiver, and you can imagine the way his chest deflates at your words. You smile to yourself, phone pressed to your ear as you drive down the highway, “It will only take me twenty minutes. Until then, try to keep yourself busy, okay?”

The two of you exchange pleasantries before you close your phone, slipping it back underneath your thigh before focusing on the road again. You were thankful that Shouto had already installed a car seat into back row, allowing you to go pick up Hana without having to do too much extra preparation.

Driving to the daycare facility takes eighteen minutes on one stretch of highway. You feel your palms sweat the entire way, recalling Todoroki’s words about Hana’s injuries she sustained on the playground not very long ago. The tremor in his voice sent a jolt down your spine, your bones rattling around in your body as you imagine the dozens of different cuts or gashes she might have on her body.

And then there’s the reality that this will be the first time you ever lay eyes on Todoroki Hana. It will be your reckoning day, the deciding moment of happenstance when she makes the choice of whether or not you are worthy of her acceptance.

You park and walk into the building, your eyes wavering over the entire intricate structure. It’s a formation of pillars and high roofing, accented with filigree of metal curved into beautiful shapes. The price point of this facility does not go over your head, given the marble pillars look genuine, smooth and rounded in all the right places. You run your fingertips over the cool stone as you walk to the thick, mahogany door. The doorknob is sparkling gold, as if someone polished it when they saw you park.

All the details wrapped into a pristine package ease your mind about the salary that Todoroki Shouto is paying you. Originally, you’d wanted to fight him on it, but you acquiesced into silence after taking note of his watch and the name brand of his suit jacket.

Your hand shoves at the front door, weighted and dense, and you step up to the front desk. Resting your forearms on the top of the divider, you smile down at her, “Hi, I’m here to pick up Todoroki Hana.”

It’s clear this woman has never seen you before by the way her eyes gawk over your appearance. You may not be dressed as pristinely as she might like, but you still look rather presentable, given the time restraints you were under to come pick up the young girl.

She tilts her head as if considering you like prey before grabbing up the phone on her desk, muttering a few words into the receiver. As she hangs up, she holds out a clipboard, “We’ll need a copy of your ID. Mr. Todoroki called ahead to let us know you’d be coming, but we’d just like confirmation. For Hana’s safety.”

It all makes sense, and is rather sound policy, but the curl of her lips when she says it forces a vat of acid into your stomach. You swallow your retort that is sitting on your tongue like a knife and gently take the board from her hand.

As you’re filling out the paperwork, the sound of little footsteps starts down the hallway. You tilt your head, pen stilled in your grip, awaiting what feels like your very own doomsday. This little almost two-year-old holds your fate in her tiny, grubby hands.

You stand and replace the clipboard onto the front desk, sliding your ID along with it. Turning your head, you await the arrival of your own two-foot-tall guillotine. You twist your hands together, knuckles wrung out white as you wait for Hana to approach the curve of the hallway and seal your fate. You know you should not be this anxious over a child who has just broken into real sneakers, but the rational part of you never wins out in these kinds of situations.

Todoroki Shouto is paying you something on the upside of expensive, offering you a generous starting bonus in addition to your typical pay so you could start working earlier than expected and still make your rent payments without worry. It would be a shame to lose that thick paycheck just because you could not win over a teetering toddler who probably babbles about princesses and the color purple most of the day.

“Hana, it looks like your-”

“Nanny,” you interject as you hear the voice echoing down the hall, attempting to avoid any confusion if possible. You brush your thighs free of any imaginary dust and crumbs so you can hide the shaking of your joints, “I work for Mr. Todoroki.”

When they finally round the corner, you stop breathing.

The little girl standing in front of you cannot be much over two feet tall, bright blue eyes shining as she drinks you in apprehensively. Her pupils shrink the closer she gets, bejeweled eyes swallowed by the inkiness. Her hands fidget at her sides while she stutter-steps towards you. The long locks of pale, silver hair reach midway down her back, the curled tips giving her an almost doll-like appearance with their perfection. Her full lips are drawn inward, tentative, much like her father.

And there, covering her right eye, a gauze bandage attempting to staunch and protect a wound.

You cannot help the way your eyes widen at the sight of her injured face, your hands ready to snag her up and race her to the nearest emergency room. Todoroki hadn’t told you the extent of her injuries, just that she had an accident on the playground, and someone needed to pick her up immediately.

“Hi Hana,” you squat down so you can appear to her at eye-level, an effort to put her at ease. “Your daddy heard you took a fall outside with your friends and he wanted me to come pick you up. Are you okay?”

She has obviously been crying, cheeks dark red and swollen, her visible eye puffy from tears. Your inner nature is telling you to reach out and comfort her, taking her by the hand and drawing her up into your arms to give her a gentle squeeze. But you know that there is a time and place and threshold for each form of affection, so you withdraw.

“How bad is it?” You turn your gaze upward, calves screaming as you shift your weight. You seek out the eyes of her teacher, trying to gauge your reaction based on her body language, “It doesn’t look like it’s bleeding too much now, and she’s rather calm. Was her eye directly injured?”

“No, it’s just around the orbital,” her teacher runs fingertips through Hana’s hair, “I don’t think she’ll need stitches, but she will definitely need this wound cleaned up by a professional. I know Mr. Todoroki has a nurse he usually calls.”

It’s as if these women are trying to suffocate you with their knowledge of Todoroki, almost like them knowing he has a nurse, or not knowing he’d hired you until today, would win them some sort of award or accolade. You try your best not to let your stomach turn at the sight of them, desperate and petty.

“Hana?”

She tilts her head up at you, another round of tears welling up in her eyelids. You wonder if it is from stress, pain, or a mixture of that and the uncomfortable feeling she can sense from the way you’re interacting with the daycare staff. She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her forearm, careful of her injured eye, “Y-Yes ma’am?”

So Shouto has taught her manners.

You attempt to keep your composure at the sound of her tinny, trepid voice echoing out the words that are normally rare for even full-grown adults to use. In reaching out your hand, you notice she does not shrink away from you, not this time, “I think we ought to go have that nurse of your dad’s check out your eye, what do you think?”

There is silence for a moment, genuine concern evident in her sparkling irises. She blinks quickly, like she is trying to figure you out before she makes her decision in response to your question. You don’t want to clue her in to the fact that, at the end of the day, it’s not really her choice to make – that plight between staying here and going somewhere else has been completely left up to you.

“You know,” you’re whispering now, dramatically hiding your mouth behind the palm of your hand, pretending that that others standing around can’t hear you. “I think that I saw this cool ice cream shop on the way here. You think you could help me try a new flavor?”

This makes her eyes widen, pushing herself up on her tiptoes as she fails to contain her excitement at the suggestion of a sugary treat, “Wh-What flavor?”

You grin, warmth seeping into your chest as a giggle bubbles up in her throat, “I was thinking bubblegum, or maybe cotton candy?”

Hana’s nose scrunches at the suggestion, “No way!”

“Well,” you stand to your full height, hands on your hips as you pout, “what would you rather have then?”

She is full-on smiling now, cheeks drawn upward so her dimples can dip into her cheeks on either side, “I like mint w-with choco-chips in it!”

You hold your hand out again, praying that now, after divulging your favorite ice cream flavors, she won’t totally reject you. The last thing you want is for her to force your hand in making a decision to pick her up and take her out of the daycare.

Hana pushes herself up and down on her toes, biting her lip before bursting with a smile, “Y-You really mean it?! Ice cream?”

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug, wriggling your fingers as the other women watch on in amazement as your connection to the child. “I think you deserve it after that nasty fall you took.”

Bouncing towards you, Hana bobs into the air by pushing upward on the balls of her feet. She reaches out and snags your hand into her grip of her own accord, before beginning to tug you to the exit. She is babbling on about all of the ice cream flavors she’s tried, and what they taste like, and the last time she had ice cream was oh so long ago…

“See you later, ladies,” you wave over your shoulder, unable to hide the satisfied smirk making your mouth crooked, “I guess we’re going to get ice cream.”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Hana knows how to buckle herself in, so she’s already clambering up into your car as soon as you have the door open. Her injury is completely forgotten as she bustles up into the seat, climbing in awkwardly before turning around to plop her backside into the curve of the cushions. Her fingers are frantic as she desperately tries to get the straps clicked together so you can be on your way to the nearest ice cream shop. You smile at her struggle, allowing her to settle with a pout before offering her your help.

“I-I can do it!” she insists, eyes misted. “I-I’m a big girl!”

“Oh, no doubt,” you shake your head in reassurance, pursing your lips as you hold your hands up in midair, palms facing her. “I’m just trying to help so we can get to our ice cream just a tad faster.”

Your reasoning seems to be sound, because Hana releases the offending buckle and puts her hands on either side of her car seat to give you enough room to maneuver and snap the contraption in place. Your hands make swift work of the buckles and straps, tightening them to the perfect spot on her chest and hips. She smiles up at you when you’re finished, expectant and excited.

It is strange, the intense desire to protect her that immediately washes over you at first sight. You have to stop yourself from rushing into allowing her between the cracks of your heart. You are frantic to seal them so you can let yourself down easy if this job ends up being as short-term as you’re worried of it becoming.

You pull away from her, face blank, and shut the door as Hana begins to fiddle with the remaining length of the straps around her body. Her fingers swirl around the black fabric and plastic, tugging and pulling, but not hard enough to adjust any of your hard work.

On your way to the parlor, you decide to call Shouto.

“Daddy!”

A relieved sigh sounds from the other end of the receiver, and you can’t help the warmth that blooms in your belly when you grin. Shouto coughs thickly, clearing his throat, “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay!” Hana twirls her fingers in midair, watching around like Todoroki may appear out of thin air like his voice echoing in the car. “We’re going to get ice cream!”

“Ice cream?” his voice sounds slightly judgmental, but you try to push it off and pretend it means nothing. You spare a glance over your shoulder, “Tell him what flavor you’re getting, Hana.”

You pull into the drive through window of the ice cream shop, listening as Hana babbles on about the different flavors you two talked about and whether she’ll get a cone or a cup. You put the car in park as the person in front of you orders, swiveling your hips so you can look her in the eye, “I was actually thinking about a milkshake. How does that sound?”

“Ooh,” her eyes grow wider, chubby little hands curling into fists in her lap. She’s practically buzzing at just the thought of it all, “That sounds like fun!”

You chuckle, hand on the gearshift, “Oh, I meant to ask, have you already scheduled the nurse to be at the house? I wasn’t sure if you’d rather it be someone personal to look after her, or if you’d want me to take her to a general hospital.”

“I’ll call Masuyo and have her meet you at the house.” Todoroki’s voice is muffled as he turns to speak with someone else in his office, hand over the receiver. You hear him cough, voice tense, “S-She’s okay, though. Right?”

“I think she’s a strong girl,” you make your voice confident, straightening your spine, “she’ll be fine once we get her cleaned up. Right, Hana?”

You spare one final look at the little girl in the backseat, all bright eyes and buzzing fingertips. She’s already shuddering off of pure energy, and you wonder if sugar was really the best route to go down for her comfort. Either way, she nods her head, enthusiastic about what’s to come next.

“Yes!” She leans forward in her seat, getting closer to his voice, “I can’t wait until you get home, daddy. We’ll play prince and princess, right?”

You can sense the hesitation on Todoroki’s end and your heart turns to granite in your chest. When he speaks, you feel the weight of it settle in your belly, throat tightening.

“I’m not sure, love. I’ll have to see. It’s very busy this afternoon.”

Hana allows her expression to fall for a mere moment. You honestly would not have caught the change in her demeanor if it weren’t for you studying her as Shouto uttered the words. Every bit of enthusiasm that was previously holding her cheeks high is drained. Her face pales and her lips turn downward in a frown, eyes dropped to her hands as she fiddles with her knuckles in her lap.

And yet, almost as soon as she falters, her smile returns, albeit not enough to light up her eyes as it did before. It’s like she is reconstructing a mask that she feels pressured to wear in order to keep her father satiated and undisturbed.

“Oh, that’s okay, daddy,” Hana’s voice is as cheerful as her little strong will can force it to be. She attempts to be dismissive as she waves her hands, despite Shouto unable to see her, “I played princess at school anyway.”

Your heart continues to crack as she says her final line, “I love you, Daddy.”

Shouto exhales, voice breathy when he repeats the sentiment, “I love you more.”

“I love you most.” Hana’s tone lilts then, a crack in her metaphorical armor at his affections despite his absence. She swipes at her face and you wonder if she was crying, because you certainly didn’t see any tears.

Your throat grows thick with emotion, making it difficult for you to tell him goodbye. You roll down your window and rattle off your order, trying to keep a close watch out of the corner of your eye to monitor Hana’s mood and expressions as the moments progress. You feel horrible for intruding on their very personal, private moment, and it only makes your heart wrench more when you see Hana’s glazed eyes unable to focus on one thing in particular. She’s docile, void of emotion as she stares out of the window, watching clouds pass as the world grows darker with the threat of a sunset on the horizon.

You settle the milkshakes into the front seat, finishing up at the drive through window before rolling forward into a vacant parking space. With your foot still on the break, you reach back to hand Hana the small milkshake cup with the straw already pushed through the opening on the lid, “There you go.”

She takes it from you gingerly, small palms wrapping around as much of the cup circumference as she possibly can. Her lips are pouted just enough that you wonder if she’ll take a sip at all. You busy yourself, pretending to clean up trash in the front seat and maneuver things around on the floorboards, waiting on her first drag from the ice cream cup.

But it never comes.

After five minutes of waiting, you press your hand to the passenger’s side headrest and look her in the eye – as much of her pupils that you can catch in spite of her hooded lids. Hana is still dazed, looking into her milkshake cup as if it might have the answers to all of her life’s confusing questions.

“Hana?” Your voice calls her from whatever lull she was in, eyes blinking slow as she connects back to this version of reality. A vague, “Yes?” is uttered from her lips, but she isn’t focused, not just yet. You brush your hand against the top of her knee, quick and gentle, and it does the trick. She blinks one final time before her pupils dilate back to their usual size, gaze settled clearly on your face.

“Did something upset you?” you ask, your hand wrung around the headrest again. “Or do you just not want your milkshake?”

“I dunno,” Hana admits quickly, eyes downturned once she realizes she’s let the emotion slip from her voice. It makes the edges of her words raw and ragged, “I guess I just don’ wan’ it anymore.”

You are persistent; your job is to make her happy and keep her safe, and right now with a milkshake melting in her lap, part of you feels like you’re failing.

“Was it what your dad said?” Your question is asked in a low tone, something you’re trying to use to convey that you are being patient and kind. You take a chance and rest your palm against the car seat armrest, close enough to make contact but not adjacent enough to infringe upon her personal space. You swallow thickly, taking a short breath, “About not being home to play?”

Hana is pinching the straw between her fingers, looking into the little opening as it closes with the squeeze of her fingers. You wonder if she does this often, with tangible objects. Does she ache to control something so much so that she becomes lost in the euphoria of it all?

She sighs, kicking her feet, “Daddy is just always working. It makes me sad sometimes.”

You aren’t sure how to respond, not really. If you had known her for longer, or met Todoroki some other way, you could likely refute her statement. However, there’s truth in what she’s saying, a vulnerability that you weren’t sure you would see from the child so soon.

When she speaks next, Hana reminds you of a full-grown woman, attempting to redirect the conversation from something personal to something vague, “What’id you get?”

Her voice sounds like an echo of her true self, nothing like the way her tone lilted when she first spoke with her father. There is a seemingly eerie mask she has perfected, something both audible and emotional. And it would appear she knows just how to slip it on and off when the time is right, despite her young age.

Then and there you choose to burden yourself with the purpose of breaking her out of her glass box of entrapment.

“I got cookie dough,” you say as you take an over-dramatic sip, crossing your eyes at the sensation of cool ice cream flowing down your throat, “What did you get?”

Her face scrunches inward, nose wrinkling at the bridge, “Y-You know what I got, don’ you? You ordered it for me!”

You make an exaggerated face of confusion, tilting your head backward and tapping your fingertip against your chin. “Hmm,” you nod, agreeing with her accusation, “I guess you’re right, huh?”

“You’re silly,” Hana giggles before going in for her first sip of her milkshake. Her eyes are narrowed downward at the cup, hands cradling it carefully as if it were the most important thing in the world and she might be in danger of spilling it at any moment. Her eyes are wide, doe-like in nature, as she comes up for air, “This is good!”

“Great,” you answer her, switching the gearshift back into drive so you can pull out of the parking lot and out onto the highway to head back to their house.

The remainder of the drive back to the Todoroki residence is spent in moderate silence, gentle music playing on the radio as Hana preoccupies herself with licking every last drop of her milkshake from the straw. She sucks the mint chocolate chip ice cream from her thumb and looks up at you when you park the car in the driveway, “We’re home?”

You unbuckle yourself from your seat and answer her, hopping down from the car to open her door. She’s already working at her buckles, undone the top half, but still struggling with the bottom. By the time you’ve gotten her undone from the chair, she trusts you enough to reach out her arms and ask for you to help her down to the ground so she does not have to clamber down and risk falling onto the concrete.

When the soles of her shoes hit the concrete, she’s reaching up for you, grabbing you around your fingertips to hold on as she walks. You squeeze her hand gently, fishing the keys out with one hand to unlock the door.

The nurse is already inside, set up on the couch. Hana runs straight to her, plopping herself unceremoniously down on the furniture, hand hovering over the patch as she talks with Masuyo about her ice cream experience from just moments ago.

You busy yourself with dinner, prepping meat and vegetables, as Masuyo starts to clean and treat Hana’s wound. It’s another thirty minutes before you start to sear meat on the stovetop when you hear the garage door rattle open unexpectedly. Todoroki shouldn’t be home until later this evening, he texted you after you’d been in line for ice cream to tell you as such.

And yet, when the door opens to reveal his familiar frame, you can’t help the way your jaw unhinges.

“You’re home early,” you mention, flipping the steak pieces in the pan to sear the other side. “Everything okay?”

Todoroki is stunned by how grossly domestic the sight of you in his kitchen is and he’s jarred back into his prior lifetime where he had the full family package. He blinks and takes a short breath, forcing himself away from the swirling blackhole of the past to smile at you, “Yes, well. I decided that my daughter’s health was more important than some paperwork. I had a few of the first-years handle it.”

That is how it starts. Your first day as the new nanny of the Todoroki household.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“Are you sure you got the right color plates?”

“Yes.”

“And what about the cake?”

“Ordered it three weeks ago.”

“How about the-”

“Shouto.”

He turns to look you in the eyes, breath frantic, “What?”

You can’t help but laugh at the wide-eyed expression he wears, all of his emotions blatantly displayed on his face. You take a step toward him, reaching out to cup his elbow, “I’ve got it all handled, okay? Her birthday party isn’t for another week, Shouto. Are you ready for the zoo?”

Todoroki hesitates, gritting his teeth together so harshly that you can see the muscles in his jaw quiver. He turns his palm to press flat against your forearm, heterochromatic gaze seeking you out for some sort of comfort, “Did you need me to pack the bag?”

“No,” you chuckle, forcing yourself to remove your body from his grasp by walking back to the sink to finish up the load of dirty dishes you wanted to get into the wash before you left. You tilt your head to look across the bar at him, “We’re leaving in half an hour.”

Hana comes careening down the hallway, a doll in either hand, her pajamas still crooked on her body. She giggles, bouncing on the balls of her feet before launching herself forward to latch around Todoroki’s calf like an animal, “Daddy!”

Shouto bends at the waist to pluck her up, hands careful under her armpits when he tucks her into his side, “Yes, love, I’m going to the zoo. But it looks like you need a change of clothes.”

“I already laid some out on her dresser,” you pipe up from behind the sink, “but you’ll need to spray her down with sunscreen first, it’s not very cloudy outside today.”

As Shouto turns to walk Hana back to her room, you allow your gaze to linger a moment longer than the ordinary. Ever since you first took this job, you could note Todoroki’s beautifully carved body and stellar facial features. He is built perfectly for the type of Pro Hero that he is – thick muscles wrapped around dense bones, and yet still a relatively lean frame to hold it all into place. Shouto’s face is cut sharp at the jawline, cheekbones stark against his skin. You are sure to admire him whenever you can.

When you hear him and his daughter talking, sharing words and laughs, it only adds to the flame that burns in your belly at the thought of Todoroki Shouto.

There is no doubt in your mind that it is improper to feel the way you do about a client. They should be nothing more than a paycheck and a steppingstone, and yet somehow you have found a way to allow Shouto to wind his pristine claws into you. He’s got you by the heart and it has only been a few months.

You force your hands to work at the dishes, cleaning what remains so you can start the dishwasher. After you’re done, you make your way upstairs towards Hana’s room, where you hear various grunting noises.

A laugh threatens to part your lips and give away your spying secret when you notice Shouto frantically trying to pull the shirt you picked out over the top of Hana’s head. Her arms are stuck in the wrong spots and you can already tell that it’s somehow inside out, but none of that pushes you to step forward and take over.

It’s only when Hana spots you spying in the doorway that you’re coerced into treading into her bedroom. She pouts and Todoroki doesn’t look much happier. He chuckles, “I swear I’m better at this than I look.”

“Oh, I know you’re helpless,” you smirk across at him, squatting in front of Hana to help untangle her from the clothes and put her back in right side up. Her little hands grab for your face, squeezing your cheeks as she surges forward to kiss your nose, “Daddy is helpless, isn’t he?”

You are too busy fussing over Hana’s hair to notice the way that Todoroki drinks you in like he has been parched for years. He cannot stop himself from memorizing the color of your irises, the slope of your nose, the bow of your lips.

The reality that he could even be attracted to you is lost on him – he swore after his wife died that he would never find another woman to replace her. You have only been here a few short weeks and he’s already begun to question his earlier statement.

It’s just the way she is with Hana, he tries to convince himself. I am kidding myself into believing she’s here for us, not just because it’s a job.

And yet, when his gaze connects to yours, Hana babbling about lions and tigers as you slather her down with sunscreen, Todoroki swears that he feels something different.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

The day of Hana’s party comes quicker than expected.

You’re frantically spinning around, making sure there is enough food and drink for everyone in addition to trying to keep an eye on the children as they play around on the various structures setup outside.

A group of moms gather at the bar, one of them urging the others to look at you with a sinister lilt in their gaze. You continue to serve everyone at the party, filling drinks, bringing new plates of food, and yet their eyes never waver from you.

When you are cleaning up some stray garbage in the kitchen, the blonde woman near the end of the bar perks up, “Excuse me, nanny, would you mind filling my glass?”

It is like the floodgates have opened, and now they are all asking you for favors. You swallow your pride and do as they say whether that’s food or drink or a new napkin or even cleaning up their garbage. They are all gossiping behind their hands, palms raised to their mouths as if that will do anything to staunch the flow of the conversation, or even make it more difficult for you to hear the way they speak of you.

Your pride takes each hit in stride, attempting to roll the insults off your shoulders while you tend to them kindly. It takes Shouto stepping into the kitchen for your face to falter.

You gaze across the room at him and your strong façade falls away, hands shaking by your sides as you look at the floor in shame. You swallow your self-importance and build your walls back to their full height before looking up at him once more.

Todoroki is fuming, to put it nicely.

His hands are curled into fists, knuckles white and cheeks hot at the sight of your unease. He takes a few strides forward, features softening as he reaches out to press his fingertips into the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs into the shell of your ear. His breath is warm, spilling down your spine like molten lava, pooling the heat in your belly and turning your insides to mush. The expanse of his palm splays against your back, the plane of his chest flush with your arm when he stands too close.

You take a short breath, unable to get enough oxygen with him crowding your space like this. It is like he’s thinning the air within a few feet of his body, making it difficult to breathe.

“I’m fine,” your voice is high and thick, nostrils flaring when you make eye contact with one of the women at the bar. She is smirking proudly, head tilted so she can look down her nose at you. You swallow the shards of emotion sticking in your throat and look up at Todoroki, confused at the fury held in his irises, darkening them both so they look almost the same color as his pupils.

He turns and you watch in slow motion as his jaw hinges open, anxiety gripping your throat tightly. Your body moves before your mind can catch up; you shift your feet, so your hips are in front of him, hands palming against his pectorals to bring his attention down to you.

You tug on the fabric of his shirt, breathlessly calling to him, “Shouto.”

Todoroki turns his eyes downward, jawline quivering just enough for you to see at this close of an angle. He is intoxicating, the combination of his cologne and his body heat sending your mind spinning. You lick your lips and his eyes track the motion, turning butterflies over in your belly, their gentle wings brushing the insides of your body delicately, enough to tickle.

“Shouto,” you mumble his name again. “S’okay, alright?”

The sound of barstools scraping the floor signifies the judgmental women taking their leave, and your chest deflates at the change in atmosphere. Your hands go slack against Shouto’s chest, head falling forward to rest against his collarbone.

When his hands brush your hips, you snap your eyes upward, neck bent at an uncomfortable angle to meet his gaze. Shouto grinds his teeth together before speaking, “I’m sorry they were bossing you around. You’re not here to take care of them.”

“It’s okay, really,” you pat your hand on his chest as if solidifying your statement, smiling enough to sell it.  

His thumb grazes the hem of your shirt, fingertip slipping beneath the fabric to brush against your skin. Your breath hitches and every instinct within you tells you to push yourself up on your toes and grab his shirt in your tight fists, but when you’re eye-to-eye with him, you wish you wouldn’t have listened.

You can feel his stuttering breath on the bow of your lip, and it makes your shoulders quiver. Your name is whispered between his teeth and suddenly he is too close, so close that you’re intoxicated, and every inhibition of yours has been forgotten like dust in the wind.

“Daddy!”

The sound of her voice breaks you apart, stumbling like teenagers caught underneath the bleachers. Todoroki turns to Hana, tending to her face with a napkin and listening to her sugar-driven babbling. You take the moment to slip past them and back to the outdoor area where everyone is gathered.

For the remainder of the night, you feel Todoroki’s eyes on you, following your movements as you maneuver throughout the guests, offering them refills and to take their garbage. He cannot help but feel the heat incinerating his body from all sides, not just his left. The sensation is strange, the ice on his right side usually taking over any and all feeling he might have.

It feels foreign, but not unpleasant. Todoroki’s neck prickles at the impending awareness that he might be in for a crude awakening soon.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

The next few months are a breeze.

Until they are not.

Todoroki has begun to spend more time at work and less at home with each passing day. The threat of his job creeping over him like a looming dark shadow, slowly engulfing him inch by inch until he is surrounded entirely. He spends his days fighting crime, and nights doing paperwork.

You are slowly starting to spend more and more time at the Todoroki house – you are now expected to arrive around five in the morning, and sometimes you do not leave until nine in the evening. It is exhausting, given your drive back to your apartment is a half-hour on a good day with little traffic.

Somehow, you have been able to keep Hana satiated, even without her father around. There are fleeting moments where her cheery expression falters and she sheds a few tears, but you are there to wrap her up in your arms and let her cry until she has nothing left. And then, after she’s dried her face on your shirt, she looks up at you with those beautiful blue eyes and begs you to play princess.

One night, when you are half asleep on the couch with Hana curled into your arms, you feel a palm press to your shoulder, “I’m home.”

You blink blearily, a short jolt of breath stinging your lungs. You swallow and look to the right of you where Todoroki is squatted beside you. He is smiling; you can tell, even in the darkness.

“Hey,” you whisper, careful to cradle Hana’s head as you sit up. “Sorry, it’s been an eventful day.”

Shouto shakes his head and helps you to your feet, palms finding any juncture of you that he can use to support your body. His hand is against your elbow when he speaks next, “No, I’m sorry. I should have been home hours ago. I know you were making dinner.”

“I make dinner every night,” a laugh parts your lips and you run your fingers through Hana’s hair to try and keep her asleep despite the noise. “So, it’s nothing new, Todoroki. Let me go put her down and I’ll head out.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but his jaw snaps shut before he can let out whatever secret he is harboring. You disregard it, walking upstairs to tuck Hana in for bed. She stirs but does not wake entirely and you are thankful. The day has already been tumultuous enough without having to sing her back to sleep or stay up any longer.

As you are walking down the steps, you’re surprised to find Shouto pacing in the hallway, his thumb pinching his chin and his brow furrowed harshly. He looks rather intensely conflicted, and there is a moment where you’re worried, he may decide to fire you. Could you have done something wrong with Hana? Did she not like you? Was he upset that you let her have chocolate before noon the other day?

“Shouto?” you call, padding forward, toes sifting through the carpet. “Is everything okay?”

Another yawn splits your lips and you cover it with your palm, apologizing through your teeth. He shakes his head and steps toward you with a palm outstretched, “Yes, everything is fine. I just have something I’d like to ask you.”

You tilt your head and it reminds him of a curious animal, sniffing him out for food in the form of information. Your hand rests on his bicep and it is dizzying to be this close to you, even after several months of working alongside you. His head still spins when you are too close.

“I was wondering if you might consider moving in.”

You blink dumbly, mouth parted so he can see the pad of your tongue and the tips of your canine teeth. Your fingertips graze against his arm and you feel like lightning is sparking at the cusp of your touch.

The reality is this is not far from normal – most full-time nannies do end up living with their families. It makes everything easier and cheaper. If you live there, he does not have to pay you for drive time, and your boarding costs can be directly deducted from your standard paycheck. This option is what makes the most sense, but you are not focused on sense right now.

All you can see is his bare torso.

You are imagining accidentally walking in on him after he’s taken a shower, or him stumbling in after his morning runs with his tiny running shorts and shirtless upper half. Your tongue goes dry at the thought of it all, but you force yourself to push words past your lips, so you won’t look like a dead fish.

“That’s a pretty permanent decision, Shouto.” Your words hold weight and he knows it, he’s thought this through a dozen different ways to Sunday. You swallow and when your hands brush over his skin, he swears sparks light beneath your fingertips; it makes his arm numb. “I don’t mind, but I just want to make sure that you’ve really thought this through.”

He nods, stepping closer so he’s almost flush with you now, “I feel awful having you drive so early and so late. Your hours would not change, your responsibilities wouldn’t change. You would have your own room and privacy, and I don’t expect to lessen your pay just because you live here. It’s just-”

“Shouto,” you’re laughing now, shaking your head as you look down at your toes, “I don’t expect everything to stay the same if I move in. I’m prepared, are you?”

Truly, he’s thought about that question far too much in the passing days when he sees you around the house or speaks with you on the phone during the day. The idea that you will be here every hour of every day is suffocating, but in a way that makes him want to drown. As time moves faster, Shouto realizes that you have become a second nature in his house. He is thinking of you during his office meetings and the late nights on patrol.

He cannot be honest with the true reason he is asking you to move in, because then he would have to face his emotions and he’s not ready for that yet. And yet, his body betrays his mind as he reaches forward to brush his thumb over your cheek, “I think I can handle it.”

Emotion swells like a blooming heat between the two of you, your bodies almost entirely pressed up against one another as your voices grow softer. You are not sure if it’s the sleep-muddled brain you’re working off of, but you swear that you see his eyes drop to your lips. There is some part of you that wants to fall into him, to let him take you and burn you and leave you for dead, but the rest of you is working off of sense and logic and you know that would never work.

“Well,” your voice shatters the fragile moment, “I guess I better get home and start packing.”

Shouto releases you and something shifts in his irises, but it is gone as soon as it appears, and you don’t have enough time to discern the emotion. You pluck up your bag and slip on your shoes, turning to wave at him over your shoulder as you step past the threshold and back to the garage.

As you start your car, you rest your forehead on the steering wheel before you pull out, and murmur to yourself in utter chagrin, “What have I just agreed to?”

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“I’m telling you - Red Riot is going to give you a run for your money.”

“That blockhead?” Shouto chuckles, swirling his glass, “I doubt it.”

You tilt your head, “And what about Ground Zero? He’s got his own agency now, doesn’t he?”

Shouto rolls his eyes, “God, can we please leave Bakugou out of this conversation?”

Another swig of the rum and coke slides down your throat, burning in the best way. Your head feels hazy, but you don’t mind, taking advantage of Hana’s early bedtime for the first time in a few weeks. You push your mostly empty glass towards him, “Bartender?”

Todoroki smiles, tipping the bottle downward to refill your glass. You grab the soda off the countertop and fill it to the brim, swirling the mixture with your straw. Another gulp of the liquid has you asking, “You and the other big players all went to Yuuei together, right? Ground Zero, Deku, Red Riot?”

Shouto nods, “Yes, we did.”

“Wow, to have gone to Yuuei,” you whisper in wonder, eyes heavy as you look down into the dark liquid fizzing in your glass.

He leans forward on the counter, body close to you as he asks his obvious question, “You don’t have a quirk, do you?”

“No,” your answer is quick, curt. You swallow thickly, shards of shame sticking in your throat. “I was born without one. You’ve seen my shoes.”

You are referring to the wider shoes that those with no quirk have to wear thanks to the extra joint in their pinkie toes. You lift your foot up in the air for good measure, painted toenails catching the light just right as you wriggle your toes around dramatically. You sigh, “I didn’t fully know who you were when I took this job. It’s kind of embarrassing that I don’t have a quirk, and you’re some superhero saving people with ice and fire.”

Shouto holds out his left palm, face up, and ignites a small flame, “I hated this side of my body for so long. It comes with a burden I’m glad you do not have to bear.”

The weight in his voice entices your eyes upward, connecting with his gaze as the heat blossoms, sucking the oxygen out of the air. Shouto curls his fingers inward and cuts the flame short, a gentle wisp of smoke floating from his palm.

“What does it feel like?” you find yourself asking, the alcohol creating a dull buzz behind your eyes that latches onto all of your inhibitions and immediately tosses them away.

His breath hitches audibly, pupils dilating as he attempts to focus on something other than the way your lips bow when you speak. Shouto steps forward, hands gentle as he cups your cheeks, a bravery he did not know he could muster bolstering his movements. His fingertips tickle your skin and it’s difficult for you to keep your eyes open when he is holding you so tenderly.

Shouto closes his eyes in concentration, taking a deep breath before narrowing his concentration onto the pores of his hands. His palms are flush with your skin and you let your mind wander while he is working up his quirk.

How would his touch compare to different parts of your body?

Your eyes slip shut at the thought, biting your lip as your mind runs rampant. The heat curling in your belly reminds you of his quirk – burning and licking at your belly like a raging flame. You only wish you had his right side to cool you down from the inside out.

Slowly but surely, you feel the right side of your face grow warm while the left side has started to chill. Your eyes go wide, and you circle your fingers around his wrists, voice breathy when you speak, “Wow, Shouto, that’s amazing!”

Your voice goes quiet and it is like the world stops spinning when he opens his eyelids to look down at you. You feel frozen in your spot, but you know it isn’t his quirk affecting you. Your grip tightens but he doesn’t seem to notice, his eyesight directed to your lips, zeroed in on the way that you gnaw at them when you’re nervous.

The tension is like a rubber band begging to snap. You feel the coil twirl around your spine, bunching you together and screaming at you to run away. There are a thousand different reasons why getting too close is dangerous, but your wanton body cannot be bothered to list them. Instead you are pushing yourself up in your seat, so your back is arched toward him, chest brushing his pectorals.

Shouto reminds you of something innocent when his mouth parts and irises glimmer beneath half-hooded lids. You feel distinctly profligate for envisaging his mouth on other parts of your body, the pink of his tongue peeking from behind pearly teeth doing little to quell your thoughts. You swallow thickly and shudder as his hand that produces cold shifts into your hair, rustling through the tresses at the nape of your neck.

Your hands are suddenly wrapped up in the fabric of his shirt, fisting the soft material, and you are pulling him towards you. Even so, it is Shouto who tilts your head upward, heels of his palms gently angling you by the cheeks.

The two of you take a breath before devouring one another whole.

His mouth tastes like whiskey, sharp and biting, but his tongue is in stark contrast to the flavor. He is gentle while still taking over your every sense. His tongue maps out the curves of your teeth and the pad of your tongue while his chilled palm keeps your skin from searing with blush.

The tenderness with which he holds onto you makes your heart rattle around within the cage you have built just for him. You knew this entire time that if he were to wriggle his way in, to touch your heart in just the right spot, you would crumble beneath his ministrations. This entire time you’ve been beholden to him, despite the utter denial you’ve been bathing in to hide the confession.

“Todoroki, I-”

Your voice is cut off by a blazing hand drifting beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers dipping against your spine, “I hate it when you call me that.”

Your eyes go wide but he’s enraptured you with another kiss square on the lips. Your words fall into the confines of his throat, never to be heard again as he swallows them into silence.

Hands are everywhere, so much so that you can’t tell where you begin and he ends.

Shouto nips your lip and you gasp, your hips canting forward of their own accord. Your mouth is gaping, begging for air, and he gives in to your silent request, drifting his lips downward to your jawline. He mutters a string of curse words as your hands finally make their way to his hair and shoulders, digging into him like he might float away.

He hums against your collarbone, teeth bared as he licks and nips at your skin. The alcohol in your bloodstream mixed with his essence in your veins only spins your mind into overdrive, dizzying you to the point that your eyes cross. You whine as he bites kisses into your skin, fingernails dug sharply into the skin of his back through his shirt. There will most likely be little crescent moon imprints when you release.

The trail of his kisses loops back up the column of your throat, teeth grazing your jaw as he works his way to your mouth again. You whine into his lips when his frozen fingers stroke your bare skin beneath your top, “Shouto, please-”

Todoroki’s confidence grows when he hears you moan his name into the air, begging him with only a few syllables. He disconnects his mouth from yours to look you in the eyes, “God, you’re so damn pretty, y’know?”

Your mouth hangs open and Todoroki must hold himself back from slipping his thumb between your parted, full lips. A shuddering breath passes between the two of you, time frozen as the moment sits still. It allows the both of you to agonize over one another, taking in each and every wanton feature as you beg quietly.

“So pretty,” he whispers before digging his hands into your backside and tugging you forward so you wrap yourself around him. His mouth is on you in a flash, all teeth and tongue pulling and prodding at you in a divine way you’re sure only he has mastered.

You are enraptured by him, fully captivated with his dual-ended quirk sending your body into a haze. Your mind is bewildered, thrown into a twirl of rum and Todoroki. If he were to give you a moment to catch your breath, you might be able to find it within your resolve to push him off you, to tell him how wrong this is. And yet, with his tongue tangled in your teeth, you can’t force the word no out of your throat.

Instead it is just his name.

Todoroki picks you up to deposit you on the countertop, thumbs digging into your hips to help you settle. His fingers make quick work of your top, slipping beneath them hem to graze over the swell of your breast on the underside. You whimper at the ghost of his touch, trying to angle your arms so you can tug at the band of his sweats.

When he realizes what you are fumbling with, he uses the bottoms of his feet to tug his pants down to his ankles. He steps out of them, but you can’t focus on anything other than the prominent bulge strained against his dark briefs. You have to swallow the drool accumulating in the center of your mouth, threatening to pool over the corners of your lips if you were to speak.

Before he tugs your shirt over your head, he looks into your eyes, sincerity cutting through the lust clouding his irises, “Last chance.”

He is giving you an out. One last clear path to purity.

You hesitate for a moment and his hands curl tighter around the hem of your top, restraining himself from ripping it away like an animal. His jaw is quivering as he waits on your response, nostrils flaring when you do not answer right away.

Whether it is the alcohol or the need talking, you are the conduit for the words spoken next, “Fuck me, Shouto. Now.”

Your shirt is yanked over your head unceremoniously, but you don’t care. Your eyes are wandering, begging for him to be nearly as naked as you. You don’t have to ask, because he’s already stepping away from you to remove the offensive piece of clothing, baring his body to you.

You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, especially upon moving into the Todoroki residence. He goes on shirtless jogs and sometimes does not wear anything on his torso for a while after he’s showered. There are days he has hardly anything remaining of his costume, after a particularly rough villain or training session.

And yet, this time it feels different.

He is baring himself for you. The intimacy of the moment does little to dull the ache in your mind, the strain of your heart in your ribs. You know that if he were to show you much more openness, you may have bruises beneath your skin from the way your heart threatens to beat at such a quick, tumultuous pace.

Shouto wastes little time in lurching forward to palm at your breasts, mouth too busy with your lips to pay attention to much else. You hitch your thigh between his hips, the curve of your leg brushing into his clothed cock. He grunts into the trap of your teeth, brow tugged with focus as he ruts his hips upward into you. You’re sure to put pressure back against him, the tip of his cock bulging on your thigh.

“Sho’,” you whimper when his mouth drifts from your lips to your neck. Your hands find his hair and his shoulder, eyelids fluttering halfway closed while he licks and nips at your thin, sensitive skin. Your throat burns, flesh aching as he starts to bite into you, rolling the skin between his teeth slowly, agonizing your very core.

A fresh wave of arousal coats the inside of your walls, and you know it is stained your panties, but you don’t have enough dignity to care. All that is on your mind is how he can take you on the countertop, and if you’ll be able to keep quiet enough not to wake the sleeping girl up the flight of stairs.

“Shit,” he’s cursing when your hand finds his bulge, “sweetheart, I-”

His breath is stuttered over your collarbone as you begin to palm him through his briefs. The nickname tumbling from his lips in a moan turns your stomach, effervescent champagne bubbles drifting up from your belly until they are suffocating your lungs. You gasp to relieve yourself of the pent-up anticipation as his left hand reaches the button of your shorts.

Shouto is careful as he unbuttons your pants, slipping the coarse fabric of your jeans down your thighs. As he squats down to help you out of them, all you can think of is what might happen if you were to grab him by the hair and force his mouth to your cunt.

Almost like he was reading your mind, he leans forward after he’s tossed your jeans to the other side of the kitchen floor and his mouth ghosts over your core. Your lower lip wobbles and you must bite your tongue to keep your mewling cries from tumbling out in excess. Todoroki kisses the top of your thigh, nose nudging over the edge of your lace underwear, his eyes closed so you cannot make out the expression settled in his ordinarily stoic irises.

“If you smell this good, I can only imagine how wonderful you taste,” Todoroki smirks against your skin, tilting his head so he can look up at you from his crouched position.

Your hips cant forward at the sentence, pussy already dripping just from the timbre of his deep voice. The vibrations of his word are like shockwaves straight to your core and you want to beg him to give you something, even a teasing lick over the center of your underwear.

Shouto kisses the little bow at the center of your panties, smiling as he snags the accent between the bite of his teeth and uses it to tug your underwear down your thighs. Your muscles tense, his ministrations slow and tantalizing. He chuckles and the sound shoots through your bones as if they were hollow like a feather, the warm honey of his laughter seeping slowly into your every pore and breaking down what remains of your resolve.

You have to cover your mouth with your hands when you yelp at the pad of his thumb brushing back the hood of your clit. His cool palm finds your thigh, just below the curve of your ass, and he stabilizes you with a firm grip, “Sit still, Princess.”

The authoritative tone of his voice turns your spine rigid, eyes facing the wall as he butterflies your pussy so he can see the silvery strands of slick built up between your layers of skin. He licks his lips and you feel the threatening heat of his tongue near your clit and you’re squirming. You are white knuckling the countertop, jaw under immense pressure as you clamp your teeth harshly.

He does not give you warning before delving his tongue between your folds, licking up your accumulated slick with one slow movement. His glittering grey iris tries to find your face, but the only thing he can make out is the line of your jaw and chin as your head is thrown back. Shouto chuckles before starting to explore the glutenous walls of your cunt with his tongue, his one hand still pressed into your thigh, fingers digging so hard that you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow morning.

Your body responds to him quickly, hips canting forward to buck against his mouth, begging for something more than just the quick slithering of his tongue in and out of you. In retaliation, Shouto presses his tongue flat, creating the illusion that it is thicker than before. You keen when he turns the pad of his thumb near your clit, close but not near enough.

“Sho’, please,” you pant, sweat beginning to bead up on your temples from the anticipation alone.

His cocky smirk is something you can sense when he speaks, but even further, you can feel it as he continues to lavish your pussy with his tongue. He huffs before standing to his feet, your slick mixed with his saliva giving his mouth a dangerous glint in the lowlight of the kitchen.

Shouto licks his lips as he steps closer to you again, bodies flush with one another. The hand that you know could burn you in an instant drifts down your side towards your pussy and you feel every muscle in your body clench at the thought of what kind of damage he could do to you if he tried.

Oh, and you’d let him.

You are about to beg him again, wanton moans vibrating your throat, but he intercepts you before you can lower your inhibitions any further. Shouto’s elongated middle finger slips just between your folds, using his saliva and your slick to lubricate his digit as he begins to pump up into you.

Todoroki Shouto is by no means a small man.

However, he is not so muscular that it looks like he is uncomfortable whenever he is walking. He is lean but built, which means that even though his hands are thick with muscle, they are not painful when pressed into your tight heat. Rather, they are snug and comfortable, his knuckle providing a pleasure you’ve not experienced before.

The tip of his finger brushes the spongy spot at the base of your core, and you swear you feel him in your spine. Shouto leans forward kiss you and you receive him quickly, desperate for some sort of tactile relief. He’s grinning into your lips, but you do not care so long as you find some reprieve from the coil beginning to twist within your stomach.

“So fuckin’ tight,” Todoroki whispers into your teeth as his tongue licks against your gums.

At his comment, you clench your cunt around his fingers, tightening your hold only to see how he will react. His hand stills for a moment, but then he is pushing another finger to accompany the first, splitting your cunt open despite the vice-like grip you have on his knuckle. He pumps until the base of his digits are finding the heat of your pussy, his fingerprints searing into your walls as you attempt to stay clamped around him.

Your legs begin to shake from the way you are holding yourself up on your toes, knees bent so you can be closer to his body. Todoroki feels the tremors in your thighs as his hand roams the dense muscle, whispering, “C’mere, love,” and then he’s picking you up gingerly.

Shouto hooks one of your legs around his waist at the knee, arching your back so your cunt is still butterflied open for him. Your other leg dangles from the countertop as he balances you on the edge.

The way his fingers work into you is nothing short of sinful, that white-hot flash of pleasure sinking into your eyelids slowly but surely. You begin to lose your peripheral vision as the impending ecstasy begins to settle in. The crest of the wave is close, his knuckles dragging salaciously against the innermost part of you.

Your jaw hangs open the closer you are to coming undone, panting breaths prying your lips apart. You feel utterly exposed in front of him like this, lewdly strewn against the counter that you were sipping rum and whiskey against not even a half hour ago. And yet, somehow, Shouto’s hand cradled against your shoulders is all you need to bring your self-consciousness down to a manageable level.

From this angle, you can reach down and pull Shouto’s briefs down so his cock can spring free. You’re palming at him as soon as you see the dark red of his cockhead. He stutter-steps forward when you pump him the first time, eyes close to bulging from their sockets at the sensation.

You twist his cock in your palm, running your thumb against the pearlescent bead of pre-come collected at the curve of his slit. Using what you can of the liquid, you drag your damp thumb down the length of his cock for slight lubrication. Shouto bucks into your hand when you bob your palm up and down to connect with the base of his pubic bone.

Now that you’re secure on the countertop, Shouto allows his free hand to wander around the curvatures of your body, mapping out the dips and contours of your frame. His hand is on your neck, thumb brushing your jaw, when your mouth drops open from a particularly pleasurable swipe of his fingers. Your cunt is dripping, and you’re honestly not sure if it even matters if you come, he should be able to slip right between your tight heat with ease.

“S’pretty,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek as his thumb brushes the bow of your bottom lip.

On instinct, your tongue laps towards the digit, silently begging for him to do more.

Shouto listens, dipping his thumb into your mouth, pressing the pad of his finger into the thick muscle of your tongue. You lick and suck at him, rolling your mouth to match the pace of your hand as you work his hard cock towards release. Shouto fixes the rhythm of his fingers so every part of your bodies are going at the same speed.

The collective sensations of his hands and mouth are too much and you cry out, digging your free hand into his shoulder to attempt and ground yourself. You pant, looking up at him with bejeweled irises, tears sitting dormant on your lashes as a whine sits pretty on your lips.

“What is it?” he asks, borderline patronizing. “Are you gonna come on my fingers?”

Your lower lip trembles and you feel yourself slipping into some subservient headspace at the tone in his voice. You nod, rolling your hips to meet him as he slows his hand, “P-Please, Shouto, I-”

“I want you to come,” he murmurs into your ear, leaning forward so his breath is hot on your skin. The hand he has buried in your cunt begins to heat and the searing sensation sends your mind reeling. Shouto nudges his nose along your jawline, warmth creeping along the base of his palm, “C’mon, love, I want to see you come. Make a pretty little face for me, yeah?”

His words do little to quell the growing ache between your thighs, the pent-up need begging to be released. You clench around him again, not forgetting his cock between your hand. You continue to twist your wrist, flicking your fingers along the length of his dick, dragging with just enough pressure to make his eyes cross. Teasing the head, you drag the pad of your thumb over it, catching another swell of pre-come and trailing the liquid down the thick shaft.

You whimper his name, squeezing your eyes closed so harshly that the corners of your lids crinkle. Your sounds only grow louder when his mouth begins to suck at your nipple, massaging your breast in his chilled hand. The crystallization of ice draws your attention, a frozen cold so intense that it almost feels hot in its own unique way.

There is a stinging excitement at the duality of the temperatures that grow further apart the longer he activates his quirk. Your nipples pebble while your pussy floods from the heat, copious amounts of slick trickling down his fingers to pool in the creases of his palm. Shouto murmurs obscenities against your earlobe but you’re in such a realm of fevered phrenzy that you can’t make out he’s even speaking English.

“Sh-Shouto, I-I’m close,” you manage, feeling the way his cock throbs beneath your touch helping to bring you back to the cusp of reality. You dive deep again when his fingertips brush against your cervix, allowing his passion to force you beneath the surface.

His thumb is circling your clit as he murmurs, “C’mon, darling, I know you can do it. Come for me, yeah?”

It’s as if his words united with his caress are enough to shove you head-first into the pool of desire. You are whimpering, cunt fluttering around his fingers as your come drips down the crevices of his palm. Your release reaches his wrist, milky liquid tickling his skin.

“Atta girl,” he kisses your cheek, fingers stilling for a moment to allow you to collect yourself. You continue to ride out your high by bucking your hips over his knuckles, slippery fingers easily providing you the rest of the comfort you need to come down from your high.

“Your turn.”

You’re pushing your way off the countertop when the creaking of the stairs makes your heart still within your chest.

Shouto’s stare flickers from you to the staircase, jaw hung open as he analyzes the sound. When another step echoes in the hallway, he’s quick to yank his briefs and sweats back over his hips. He helps you into your shorts, the silvery strands of your release forgotten as he tugs the fabric up your hips.

You’ve just gotten your pants buttoned when Hana’s teetering figure creates a shadow on the kitchen floor.

“Daddy?” she whimpers, fists digging into her tear-filled eyes.

Shouto swipes his hands against his sweats before crouching in front of her. His palms find her sides quickly, thumbs grazing her rib cage in an attempt at comfort, “Hey, love,” the sound of the nickname makes something stir within your belly, “what’re you doing awake?”

Hana swallows a hiccup, “I-I had a bad dream.”

You step forward, pressing your hand to Shouto’s shoulder, offering a gentle nudge of comfort. Hana blinks up at you, jeweled irises focused on your face, “M-Momma?”

The title holds a weight you had not prepared to carry.

She’s all but forgotten Todoroki, pushing past him to barrel into your shin, wrapping her stubby arms around your knee. She wipes her face against the skin of your thigh, sniffling louder as a fresh wave of tears takes over her body. Her shoulders shudder and you don’t have time to wonder whether she’s cognizant enough to realize that she’s just called you her mother.

You scoop her up in your arms, holding her gingerly by the back and head, and she wraps her legs around your midsection to anchor her little body to your torso like a frightened animal. Hana buries her head into your neck, tears sticking to your skin and creating an unbearable heat.

“You’re not leaving, right?” Hana whimpers, “I-I had a dream that you left.”

In an effort to comfort her, you run your fingers through her hair, gently separating the strands so your nails can scratch her scalp. You kiss her temple, “Of course not, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me.”

She retracts from your neck and a rush of cool air washes over you. Her irises are swallowed by her pupils, thick droplets of tears wetting her cheeks. You smile, forcing yourself to forget the way you were just about to jump her father’s bones, and brush your nose against hers in an eskimo kiss.

“It was just a dream, babe,” you comfort her, making sure you are looking at her directly when you say it so she feels much more solid in the reality that you are here to stay. A soothing hand reaches forward to couple with yours, thumb tracing the bump of her shoulder.

Todoroki kisses the back of her head, “Hana, there’s no need to worry, love.”

“I already lost one mommy,” Hana sounds ancient when she speaks, voice far away and intelligent beyond her young years, “I don’t wanna lose another one.”

Your voice is lodged in your throat now, tears of your own pressing threateningly against the back of your eyes. You try to swallow but the shards of your heart are blocking your windpipe, cutting off your oxygen. Todoroki slips his hands beneath Hana’s armpits, separating her from you so he can cradle her body against his chest, “You’re not losing anyone, sweetheart. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You take this as your cue to leave, grabbing your things as Todoroki takes Hana back up the stairs to her bedroom.

A sense akin to despair settles in your chest, restraining your heart in such a way that makes it difficult to breathe. The world seems to settle atop your shoulders and in the next moments you have turned into Atlas, forced to hold the earth up by your careless grip. Tears settle in your lids as you pull away from the Todoroki residence.

Something tells you that things will never be the same.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

As much as you hate it, that little voice eating away at the back of your mind was right.

The looming reality that Todoroki is avoiding you does little to satisfy the curiosity settled in your bones, affecting you down to the marrow.

Ever since that night, he hardly looks you in the eye.

In fact, he’s barely even around to see you at all.

Todoroki leaves for work before you can emerge from the bathroom with Hana in tow, fresh from a bubble bath and ready for breakfast. He slips back through the doors late at night, normally after eight, so Hana is either passed out with you on the couch or curled up beneath her covers in her bedroom. There is not another time where he touches you gingerly on the shoulder and guides you back to bed, not anymore.

You have wondered many times if you should approach him, beg him for some sort of explanation. Not only is his distance affecting you, but it’s turning Hana into a child you hardly recognize. She is still cheerful a majority of the time, begging you to play princesses and watch Bubble Guppies. But there are times when she turns angry, ripping the heads off her dolls and trying to sabotage Todoroki’s work clothes by drawing on his shoes or dropping her glass of morning milk on his suit jacket.

You start to cook his meals the day before, packaging them up in a Tupperware container that’s always gone when you check at breakfast the next morning. You are not a blind woman, and you normally choose to indulge his silly game of hide and seek instead of confronting him about what happened that night.

However, tonight, you’ve had enough.

Even though he’s decided to spend the weekend at home for the first time in a few weeks, you’ve never felt more on edge. Hana is extremely irritable, nightmares plaguing her mind during the time she’s supposed to be sleeping, and it would seem there is nothing you can ever do to satiate her throughout the day.

Playing princess is boring, coloring is stressful, blowing bubbles is stupid.

You are reaching the end of your rope and Shouto’s evasive presence does little to satiate your temperamental moods. You clutch at the cusp of sanity, praying that it will not leave you just yet; the only thing holding your tongue back from lashing out is the sliver of discretion that you’ve managed to sustain in spite of the day’s events.

“Hey, uh-” Todoroki’s voice is strained as he stands in the archway of the kitchen, “Would you mind making us a couple of sandwiches? I think Hana is getting hungry.”

The warmth from the dishwater gives you something other than his irises to focus on, your eyesight directed downward, “Sure. What would you like?”

“Let’s just do peanut butter and jelly,” Shouto shrugs nonchalantly. “Grape, if we have it.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of a specific flavor. You are certain that if you were to look into the refrigerator that you would not find grape jelly, but it’s obvious that Shouto is otherwise unknowing.

“Grape?” you echo, pulling your hands from the dishwater to wipe them on your hand towel. “You think that’s a smart choice?”

Shouto scoffs and it stings so much that you turn your head away from him, eyes now focused on the floor beneath your feet, “Yes, I’m sure. Why does it matter anyway?”

“Oh, no reason.” You pluck a jar of strawberry jelly from the refrigerator and begin to prepare the countertop for your sandwich making.

He takes a step forward to protest, but you’re waving the knife in his direction before he can stride across the tile, “You listen to me, Todoroki. And you listen good.”

Shouto pauses, throat bobbing as his line of sight zeroes in on your lips. His eyes widen, pupils swallowing his irises in fear. The knife wavering in your grasp holds much more weight than any other butter knife he’s come into contact with.

“We don’t have any grape jelly because your daughter is allergic to grapes.”

Your knuckles turn white as you grip the butter knife in your hand, “And if you were ever here you might notice a thing or two, such as an allergy to something that could, I dunno, kill her?!”

The sound of your voice raising an octave or two reverberates off of the walls and thrums at Shouto’s heartstrings. He swallows thickly, but you’re not done tearing into him just yet.

“This little charade you’ve got going on has got to end.” Your voice is desperate, unhinged, and you feel the honesty scrape against the front of your throat, “Your daughter is turning into someone you can barely recognize, and you’re not far behind her.”

Silence envelopes the room, and the only thing you’re able to hear is your heart beating frantically in your own ears. As your pulse thuds rapidly, rushing like a river of thick emotion throughout your body, you feel your palms begin to sweat. The longer you keep quiet, the louder the sound grows.

Finally, after giving him a few minutes to respond, you press the tops of your fists into your hips, glaring down your nose at him, “If you want me gone, all you had to do was ask. I thought we respected one another enough for that.”

You slap together two sandwiches quickly, tossing the plates onto the counter for him to pick up on his own before you turn and walk from the room. You’re unable to look at him any longer, not sure if it’s the loitering reality that you may have to move on from this chapter of your life or the loss of a generous paycheck and living situation that wraps your heart like the talons of a bird, squeezing until you can’t breathe.

The tumultuous roll of emotions scrapes away at your chest, and you’re surprised that there isn’t blood gushing from your ribs. You lean back against your closed door, head tilted backward to stave off the tears, saltine droplets coating your lashes as they sit in your ducts, pending the gentle sway of your neck to drip down your cheeks.

You aren’t sure how long you stay this way, crumbled against your door with the heat of disappointment building smoke in your lungs. It’s difficult to breathe, a dizziness taking over your mind that you’ve never felt quite so acutely before. You cradle your head in your hands, massaging your temples with your thumbs to try and mitigate the oncoming migraine.

A knock sounds at your door and you jump, hand pressed over your frantic heart, “Y-Yes?”

“Can-Can I come in?”

Shouto.

The sound of his voice does little to staunch the metaphorical puncture wound in your chest. You flex your hands before standing to your feet and opening the door, allowing him to step over the threshold into your room.

“Listen, I think there’s just-”

“No,” you interrupt, a short breath filling your lungs, “I’m going first.”

Todoroki’s eyes dilate, his feet stuttering backward as he takes in your assertive sentence. He grits his teeth, jaw quivering under the stress, but keeps his lips sealed in spite of desperately wanting to speak out.

“If you don’t want me here, you could have just said so.” You wring your hands together, knuckles knocking against one another as you twist your fingers. You close your eyelids and inhale a deep breath, “What happened, u-us kissing, wasn’t professional, and I apologize. But what you’re doing to Hana?”

You flare your nostrils as your hands turn to fists at your side. Todoroki watches you closely, eyes never wavering from your frame as he takes in your quivering, quiet fury. Your jaw muscles tense and you force your eyes to meet his, despite the glossiness settled in them, “You’re never here, Shouto. You missed her ballet recital last week, then you forgot she was allergic to grapes, and now you’re not seeing what’s directly in front of you!”

The more you speak, the louder you become. You can feel your cheeks heating, the tears building up in your eyelids with every syllable. Your fists clench at your sides, and your fingernails dig irately into your palms, so harshly that you swear you might draw blood. Each word draws out an anger in you that you didn’t realize you were harboring, like a fugitive sitting in the cage of your chest, tugging on the bars of your heart as they beg to be broken free.

“Hana deserves better than this, and you know it, Todoroki. So if you don’t get your head out of your ass,” your lower lip wobbles and you reach forward to poke him directly in the chest, index finger dug into the space between his pectorals, “you’re going to lose your daughter.”

You’re shaking your head and your fist as the next sentence comes tumbling from your lips, heart strings fully wound as you speak, “Listen, I don’t know what your problem is, but if it’s me, then I’ll leave.”

Shouto’s brow furrows as he looks down his nose at you, “Are you finished?”

The deadpan of his voice stirs something in your belly, something like an acrid fire that plumes in your chest, the smoke of it all curling around your throat and begging to be spewed like acid from your tongue. Your teeth grind into each other, a creaking sound echoing in your own ears. The way your heart twists in your chest makes it difficult to breathe, but you manage.

“Fuck you, Todoroki.”

You go to turn away from him, your hand falling from his chest, when he snatches you by the wrist, repeating his question, “Are you finished?”

A small remaining sliver of your patience sits heavy on your chest, forcing you to nod your head. Regardless of how you feel about him, Todoroki Shouto is an important man, and you need to leave here a dignified woman. If you make a scene, if you flash your fists and bare your teeth, it’s possible you won’t have another job ever again.

“I don’t want you to quit,” his voice is breathless, an octave higher than normal; he almost sounds sick, “but there is a problem.”

The anticipation of what he might say next brings back that acidic wash in your belly, throat squeezed shut by the clamped hands of insecurity and doubt. Shouto takes a careful step forward, mindful of your personal space as he does so. His fingers never leave your wrist, circled around your arm even as it’s pulled away from his body.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

To say that the world stopped spinning was an understatement.

You feel the whole planet turn on its axis, your body undergoing vertigo as the metaphorical rug is yanked out from beneath your feet. Your stomach flips, the acid molting into lava, hot and sticky as it licks up against your skin, pooling just below your navel. His grip is too restrictive, and you can tell your body is beginning to shift into panic mode.

“You’re right,” he barges in on your internal monologue of self-hatred, eyes boring into your soul, “I’ve been a shitty father, which is painful for me to admit. But it’s the truth.”

The conviction in his voice is solid, and you know that he is being authentic. Todoroki has a clouded past when it comes to his father, Enji. You are aware of the influence his estranged parents have on his relationship with his child, which is one of the reasons his distance has troubled you. Every time he has had enough vulnerability to allow you to peek into the glass panes of his soul, he’s shown you the scars that Endeavor has left on him.

Todoroki uses his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb under your chin to pull your attention back to him, “I tried to distance myself from you to get a better grasp on the way I was feeling.”

His palm grazes down the column of your throat, his eyes careful not to stray to close to your lips or else he’ll get distracted. Your mouth bobs open but you have nothing to say, and the bewildered expression on your face makes him laugh. The sound of his baritone chuckle does little to quell the storm raging beneath your skin, lighting striking with every single touch of his fingers and thunder booming in your chest at the sound of his voice.

“For the longest time, I believed I would never love anyone again after my wife passed away.” The feel of his knuckles slipping between yours, palm searing into you despite it being his right side. At the mention of his wife, your whole being begins to shudder, the weight of expectations and self-doubt pressing into your chest like a mass you cannot remove.

Todoroki swallows the lump in his throat, neck bobbing, “I was content with it just being Hana and I for the rest of our lives, us against the world, until you came along. You fit so perfectly into our family, sliding in seamlessly as if you’d been here the whole time. You managed to win Hana over in a day and now she can’t stop talking about you. And then, when Hana called you mom, it threw me.”

Shouto’s eyes are intense as they stare into you, narrowed and attentive. The odd combination of one blue, one grey, is hard to grasp, unsure of where you should look specifically. His fingers against your neck card through your hair, keeping you anchored to him and this world.

“It was easier for me to dive into work because I knew I’d have you here to pick up the pieces,” Shouto admits, his gaze finally breaking away from your face to narrow focus to his sock-clad feet. “I was so weak for you that I couldn’t bear it. And then you and Hana both suffered for my cowardice.”

A wave of destiny washes over you, looming like a shadow, begging you to make a decision.

“Todoroki, this is-”

“I told you,” his thumb grazes your cheekbone, “not to call me that.”

Your jaw hangs open and tears cloud your vision, and you want to smile no matter how hard your body fights against you. Your lower lip quivers and you shake your head, saltine droplets lingering on your cheeks, “I-I can’t, Shouto. I’m not right for you and Hana, I’m not-oh.”

His mouth slots against yours, angled perfectly to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. Shouto’s hands are on your face, holding you in place so you can’t run from him, despite how every cell under your skin is screaming to bolt from your place.

As he parts from you, you’re left in a daze of euphoria, eyes half-lidded, mouth still pursed as you chase after him, pleading for more.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip before retreating to trace your jawline.

And you know that you can’t; your body has already betrayed your words with the simple action of a kiss. Your hands follow suit, wrapped around the fabric of his shirt to keep him close, frightened he might leave you all over again.

Shouto’s hands drift down your abdomen, slow against your rib cage as if he were counting each bone to make sure they were all there, safe and sound. He kisses your forehead and then your nose, mouth hovering over the bow of your lips, eyes begging you even though his voice is caught in his lungs.

You say a stupid thing then, just something meant to break up the quiet, but with the floaty tone of your voice it breeds for much more wicked thoughts.

“Your lips are really warm.”

Shouto laughs before devouring you at the seam of your mouth, leaning forward to scoop you up in his arms, hands dug in at your thighs. You squeal against his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist, your fingers dipping into the muscle of his shoulders for an anchor.

He’s got you back against the bed before you can breathe again, leaning back on his thighs so he can pull his shirt over his head with ease. Your palms are like magnets to his abdomen, fingerprints finding each curve and dip of his muscle, praying you can map it out so you might memorize it for the times when he’s not able to be this close.

As his fingertips graze beneath the hem of your shirt, your eyes go wide, stuttering breath accompanied by panicked words, “H-Hana? Is she-”

Shouto chuckles, “She’s laid down for her nap. We have about two hours.”

The devilish glint in his eyes does little to quell the rampant thoughts running in your mind. You suddenly want to feel his hands and mouth everywhere on your body, insatiable in your lust for his touch.

“Sh-Shouto, please,” you’re panting and he hasn’t even undressed you yet, “need you.”

A devout confession such as that one, something so primal in its nature, shifts his demeanor from playful to sinful. Now his fingertips are dancing beneath your shirt, palming over your skin like he might find a hidden treasure in your bones.

He shakes his head, nose grazing your cheek as he starts towards your collarbone, “Tell me what you need, darling.”

“Need you.”

You are quick in your answer, eyes screwed shut at the tantalizing ministrations of his fingers on your flesh. He is teasing you, just close enough to your breast that it hitches your breathing, but not too close to where you can feel pleasure. A hot wash of arousal rolls into your body, slick beginning to gather between your thighs.

“More specific,” the words are muttered around the skin of your chest, one of his hands tugging on your collar to bare more of your body to him.

You whine, bucking your hips upward, knowing exactly the shape his cock will be in beneath the underwear that has him caged from you. You reach forward and tug at the waistline of his briefs, “Please, Shouto, I want to feel you.”

At the mention of feel, he takes you by surprise as he slips two fingers between your folds, curling into you quickly. You muffle your whine into the pillow, turning your face so your cheek is smushed against the downy cushion. Shouto’s palm that isn’t occupied with your tight heat tugs your shirt up over the tops of your breasts, baring your chest to the cool air of the bedroom.

“You are feeling me, sweetheart,” he teasingly licks over your nipple, thankful for the lack of a bra separating you from his wanton tongue.

Another moan drags salaciously from your lips, vibrating your throat and making his cock twitch, “Sho’, wan’ your cock. Please.”

You’re able to drag his pants and briefs down at once, his cock springing free from the restricting fabric. When it bobs against his abdomen, enflamed red cockhead leaking pre-come, you feel saliva build up in the back of your throat. You start to pump him as best you can, watching as his weighty balls swing under your touch.

Everything about him is enticing, from his dual-toned hair to his heterochromatic eyes to his chiseled body. You’d use your tongue on every part of him if he’d let you, but right now you’re focused on only one thing.

Once Shouto has coaxed enough of your arousal to coat his hand, he curls his fingers into you one last time, collecting the silvery fluid on his fingers, and then stands to step out of his clothes. You keen at the loss of contact, eyes wide open so you don’t miss a second.

“C’mon, baby, take your clothes off for me.”

At his command, you’re stripping down until you’re bare in front of him, clothes in a pool of fabric on the floor right next to his. Even the simple intimacy of his clothing overlapped with yours does things to your heart, a pinpricking sensation making your skin heat.

“Hi,” he whispers, fingers framing your face as you get lost in his touch. His voice is gentle, and his touch is probing in the best of ways, a genuine smile tugging his lips upward as you echo the word back to him.

You can feel your arousal tumbling within the confines of your body, begging to be put to use as you feel his cock against your thigh. Todoroki guides you back into the mattress, shoulders pressing into the cool sheets, your body given some sort of contrast to the molten heat circulating under your skin. Your blushed skin draws Shouto’s attention, eyes dragging over each inch of your body, mesmerized by your beauty.

Todoroki shakes his head, “You’re beautiful, you know?”

And at the end of his sentence, acting like punctuation, his cock slides between your heat.

Your eyelids flutter shut and your hands are on him in an instant, nails dug into his flesh to try and dispel some of the energy already built up within your fragile body. Shouto feels lightning spark up into his spine, the trails of it striking his hidden heart, licking at the edges of the glass box keeping him imprisoned from the world.

As your cunt clenches around him and your mouth utters his name like a prayer, Shouto can tell that his chest is constricting, tightening around his heart in an attempt to break himself free from the confines of his past.

“Sho’,” you’re mewling for him now as the veins of his cock drag salaciously against your tight, glutenous walls. Silvery slick coats his dick and he moans as your pussy clamps again.

He begins to build up the speed of his thrusts, his thumb brushing over your clit slowly, the very beginning of a pleasurable end building up within your belly. His mouth is attached to anything on you he can find – breast, collarbone, jaw, throat, cheek. Teeth and tongue lash out at you, parting his mouth so his heated breath can wash over your body.

Shouto focuses as best he can on forcing heat down the length of his arm, pinpointing the warmest point onto the tip of his thumb. You preen, eyes bulging out of your sockets well enough that he can translate your pleasure. On the opposing hand, the one currently preoccupied with your nipple, begins to freeze. Gooseflesh trembles on his arm but he does not mind, not when he gets to hear your panting whines of his name mixed with the begging sounds of please, please, please.

“Such a good girl,” Shouto murmurs into the thin skin of your throat, tongue delving from between his lips to lavish your jugular. “So pretty, laid out just for me.”

You nod your head as best you can, eyes wide as you drink in his praise. Your mouth bobs open but you can’t form words, not anything intelligent anyway. Shouto reaches his icy thumb towards your lips, brushing his cool touch over the heated skin, steam wafting between the two of you.

“Have you been thinking about this as long as I have?” he asks rhetorically, not expecting you to answer based on the fucked out look in your eyes, the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as his body makes quick work of you. Shouto grunts, “I’ve wanted to take you against every damn surface in this house for months.”

His left hand peels from your clit, running up over the curve of your thigh to press beneath your knee, pushing your leg upward so he can thrust into you from a better angle. Your hands are stuck on the sheets now, his body just out of reach thanks to the twisting of your hips. Shouto slams into you, balls slapping your ass as he ruts forward.

You feel his cock harden even further from within the confines of your cunt, the tip of him brushing against the spongy corner of your insides. After another deep thrust he’s bottomed out within you, hips absolutely flush with your thighs as he presses into you.

Shouto leans forward, not daring to pull himself away from you just yet, enjoying the way you envelope him fully, “You think you can come for me, love? I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

“Y-Yes, Shouto, I-I’m getting there, almost,” you promise him, eyes fucked out to the point you can barely make sense of his frame loitering above you. Your lower lip wobbles as you pout, “A-Are you gonna-fuck-want you to come in me.”

It’s a simple sentence, but the weight of it makes Todoroki’s heart stop. He knows you’re on preventatives, he’s had to stay home with Hana to cover during the day for your doctor’s visits. But something stirs at the base of his cock, weighing in the thick of his body, and for some reason he wishes you were his for the taking in every sense of the word.

As you whimper beneath him, his eyes trail over your body, landing on your belly. His fiery touch grazes the swell of your stomach where he knows his cock is pressed deep within you. His balls throb at the thought of coating every inch of you in his spend, you begging for more as it leaks out of you and onto the sheets; him drawing you into another round just to make sure that you’re stuffed full.

Suddenly, a fracture within his chest allows him to breathe deeper. As you buck your hips into him, begging him for more, telling him how good he’s making you feel, Shouto recognizes the fragile box surrounding his heart, guarding it from the world, has begun to shatter.

“Shouto, please,” you are begging him now, glassy eyes and pitched tone designed just for him, “Need to feel you, everywhere.”

Your plea is the final rock thrown at the glass box, cracking it in every direction. Shards of emotion lodge in his throat, tearing into him so he cannot breathe. As he gasps for breath, fingers digging into your skin, he knows he’s bruising you but he can’t bring himself to think of it as anything other than finally marking you down at his.

And then, when your breathy voice curls in the air, settling on his chest like a balm, he feels the glass melt away, turning to liquid fire in his gut. The words you utter tear open his heart, leaving a gaping, belligerent wound that he knows only you can mend.

“I love you, Shouto, I love you too.”

His eyes find yours, wide and wanting. You nod as if that will solidify his place in the universe, tears blurring your vision, repeating the sentiment over and over again, uncaring to the way your face looks glassy beneath the lowlight of the bedroom. You just need him to know, need him to understand.

“Shit,” he pushes the heel of his palm into the bottom of your stomach, itching to feel the way his cock pulses in and out of you as he thrusts into your body. His thoughts are even more permanent now, the idea of filling you up, pouring his body into you in the most primal way possible, is the only thing he can see. Your hand makes its way into his hair, tugging at the crown of his head as you lean forward.

A mix of crimson and white is bunched between your fists, matching the little tufts of hair that tickle your pelvis every time he bottoms out within you. You scrape your nails against his scalp, but that only spurs him on faster, panting moans busting his throat open and begging you for more.

Your lashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks, mouth parted so he can see the pink of your tongue, “Sh-Sho’, I’m close.”

He makes it his mission to twitch his cock within your walls, providing an extra layer of stimulation as his channels himself into you mercilessly. Somehow, he does it with such a finesse that it does not feel rushed or sloppy. Shouto is very careful, precise, in everything he does, and you are not surprised it works its way into the mannerisms he exhibits between the sheets as well.

“C’mon, darling,” he coos into your ear, folding your thighs upward so you’re fully pressed into the mattress, “I want you to come for me, yeah? I want you to coat my cock. You can do it, you’re close, I can feel it.”

His praise intertwined with the thickness of his cock bulging within you breaks the crest of the wave, allowing pleasure to flow through your body and onto his cock, coating him in your thick, sweet release.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Shouto continues to thrust upward into you, eyes focused on your face as he uses your cunt to bring his own euphoria down from the clouds. He’s looking down at you, jaw hung wide as he buries his cock into your tight heat, enjoying the way your slick lubricates his length.

You buck up into him and he drops his head to your collarbone, thrusts becoming sloppier the longer he tries to hang on to the edge of the cliff. Your hand in his hair tugs on the strands, mouth by his ear as you whisper, “Please, Shouto, want to feel you come in me. I want you to pump me full of your hot load, stuff me-ah.”

His hips stutters as he releases his seed into you, tongue lapping at your throat carelessly to try and force his body not to start up again. The need to feel you coming around him, begging for his cock and come, is something he has been denying for too long.

“I love you,” he whispers into the curve of your earlobe, nipping at the skin as his hips still. “Fuck, I love you.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to the curve of his scalp, “I love you too.”

As he reaches the extent of his high, he presses his body flat into you, cock twitching within your core. Your palms find his shoulders, grazing gently with your fingernails until he’s moaning into your neck, hot breath fanning out over your skin.

“Unless you want to go again, I suggest you put an end to that,” he warns, but there is no intent behind it.

You laugh, rubbing your ankle against his calf, “We’ve got a little one about to wake from her nap. Maybe later.”

And that is a promise you fully intend to keep.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

“Momma?”

You turn your head, pancakes on the griddle in front of you, “Yes, honey?”

Hana bounces towards you, white chiffon dress bubbling out at her knees, “When is breakfast ready?”

“When daddy gets back from his run,” you answer her, squatting in front of her to smooth the wrinkles from the fabric of her dress. “I made yours with choco-chips.”

Her eyes go wide and you feel a little sunbeam shining directly on your heart, warming your chest. She grabs you by the cheeks, palms squishing your lips together, “You can’t tell daddy!”

“Oh, I won’t,” you promise, voice distorted from the way she has you in her grasp. You brush a hand through her silver curls, tucking the strands away from her face. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Don’t tell daddy what?”

Hana squeals, turning on her heels to sprint towards the garage door. She’s on Shouto’s leg in an instant, clutching him like her life depends on it. You stand back to your feet, brushing your thighs clean before turning back to the griddle to start another round of pancakes.

“We can’t tell you or else it won’t be a secret, duh!” Hana sticks her tongue out as she pokes Shouto’s leg, rolling her eyes like it should be obvious. “Look, Momma’s making pancakes!”

Todoroki looks across the room at you, eyes reminding you of colorful gems as they behold you. Every time you catch him staring at you, you swear it’s even more infatuated than the last, his love for you only growing as time passes.

“Is she?” He peels her from his leg to shift her into his arms, holding her securely against his side. Todoroki walks over to you, leaning into the counter so he’s close enough that you can reach him but far enough that he can’t burn Hana on the griddle.

“You’re back quicker than I expected,” you admit, pouring batter out onto the stovetop. You grab the spatula, prepared to flip once they look done enough, “Did you pull something?”

Shouto shakes his head, leaning forward to intercept you with a kiss to the lips, “I just missed you.”

“Ew, gross! Kissing means cooties!” Hana pushes your faces apart, a hand on your mouths as she dramatically lolls her tongue out of her mouth to prove her disgust.

You chuckle, leaning forward to brush her hair from her eyes again, tucking it behind her ear even though you know it will spring forward not long after. Your eyes flash from her to her father, watching the pride settle into his irises, solidifying them even more. A gentle touch of your hand to his bicep brings him back to you, gaze unwavering as he maps out the features of your face yet again, each time finding something new to behold.

“Well, that means you have time to shower before we eat,” you squeeze his arm and return to your station at the griddle, flipping the next set of pancakes. “I’ve still got to make eggs and bacon, and some hash browns for the princess.”

Hana is beaming, bright smile tugging on the strings of your heart, “Momma makes the best hash browns.”

Todoroki places her back down on the ground, patting her backside as a silent gesture to tell her to go play. She takes his hint, sprinting back into the living room to resume her tea party with a stuffed elephant and a Ken barbie doll.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You never-ooh.”

He’s got you by the neck with one hand, the other anchoring to your hip to hold you close. Todoroki melds your mouths together, the heat of his body quickening your pulse. He steps closer, knee between your thighs so you can feel the hard bulge pressing into the fabric of his running shorts.

You hum as he parts from you, pancakes momentarily forgotten in the wake of his affections. You pat your hands on his chest, gnawing on your lower lip, “Smooth one, Todoroki.”

Shouto pinches your hip, growing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You. Me. Nap time.”

“Oh?” you ask as he unwinds himself from you, nudging your body back towards the griddle.

“And I’m not talking about sleeping.”

Todoroki disappears from around the corner, slipping up the stairs to your now shared bedroom.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your lips. When you go to turn this set of pancakes, the diamond sitting on your left hand catches the luminescent lights of the kitchen and you marvel at it. You roll your ring around on your finger, trying to find a different angle to appreciate it from, but you’ve already memorized the shape of it after three years of marriage.

Your palm finds the gentle swell of your navel beneath the baggy t-shirt you’re wearing, one of Shouto’s early proofs for a new merchandise design. You bite your lip and look down, speaking to the rustling new life currently blooming in your belly, “Here’s to tomorrow, little one. May it always be just a little better than today.”

The pancakes are done and the bacon is sizzling when Shouto returns with damp hair and a pair of sweats on the lower half of his body. He curls an arm around you from behind, kissing your shoulder, “Smells good, love.”

You turn to offer him a kiss, which he takes with fervor. Hana voices her disgust from her seat at the table, but Shouto hushes her quickly with a playful rise of his eyebrow, pointed finger making her giggle.

The three of you are sat down to breakfast, just like any other Saturday, but this one feels special for some reason. You can’t quite make it out; maybe it’s the sun shining outside or the crisp breeze blowing through the open windows, but your soul is settled in a way that can only be achieved by utter bliss.

“Hey,” Shouto calls you from your stupor, “your choco-chip pancakes are going cold.”

You blink slowly, returning your gaze to him, a gentle smile on your face.

At least you’ll get to spend the rest of your life with someone as mindful and kind as Todoroki Shouto.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

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[post-modern-prometheus]

Okay I’m not sure how accurate this concept would be but im sharing it anyway

Essentially, Peter manifests the whole metal bending abilities (the actual word is super hard to spell holy shit) when he’s a little kid. He and Wanda would spend hours practicing with their own separate powers bc they were kind of similar in their own weird way. Not completely, but still, that wouldn’t stop them. And though it drove their mother insane sometimes, it was always so fun for them.

Then Peter manifests his super speed, which he uses to do all sorts of shit. He’s very excited about having two different mutations, and he spends hours just fucking around with both of them. Wanda sometimes joins him when she’s actually up for feeling incredibly sick after being sped around constantly, and Peter always tries to make the trips as fun as possible to make up for the nausea she gets from running with him.

Years pass, and the whole Pentagon thing happens. Wanda and Magda are both very upset about it, but Peter doesn’t think much about their worries until Magneto appears on TV. THEN he gets upset. And he only gets even more upset when Magda reveals that Erik is he and Wanda’s father.

But it’s nothing compared to how Wanda feels.

She rants and yells and shouts, begging their mother to tell them that it’s all one sick joke. Wanda doesn’t want to be related to Magneto. She doesn’t want to be a monster’s daughter. Eventually, she just shuts herself in her room. And while Peter would usually go up there as well in order to comfort her, he is also shaken about this latest revelation.

He always wanted to know who is father was, but now that he does, he wishes he could erase the truth from his mind.

Weeks pass, and the Maximoff household is pretty subdued. Wanda refuses to leave her room, Peter refuses to leave the house, and they both refuse to talk to anyone but each other. Magda wants to help her children, but she also understands that something like this takes time. So for the most part, she leaves them be, hoping that soon enough, their life would go back to how it used to be.

But that decision ends up costing her daughter her life.

Wanda, overwhelmed by the truth about her father and how the existence of mutants is now known to the public, just breaks one day. Wisps of red starts swirling around her fingertips, sharp and jagged, like the blade of a knife. And all she can do is stare at them as they start engulfing her hands entirely, so many emotions currently running through her.

Peter immediately senses that something is wrong and tries getting into her room, but her magic keeps him out. Wanda tells him to leave, and when he doesn’t, she uses her magic to get him, Magda, and their little sister out of the house. And when they try to get back in again, her magic stops them from even reaching the door.

Soon her magic starts spreading. It swirls around Wanda until it’s all she can see, and all the pain and fear she had felt for the past few weeks takes rises to the surface and takes hold. Her magic lashes out, and the building starts to tremble and shake. Bits of rubble fall around her, but she doesn’t stop — not even when she hears her family’s distressed voices from outside.

Eventually, the building collapses, and Wanda doesn’t survive.

And Peter? He tries to keep the building up with his metal abilities, but Wanda’s magic is too strong, and it kills her. It kills her and Peter feels her dying. He feels her taking her last breath. He feels her life seep from her body. He feels their bond they had shared since birth break into two, leaving only a dark, hollow feeling in its wake. It’s like his heart had been ripped to pieces, like his soul had been snapped in half, and he falls to his knees screaming and clutching his chest.

And though Wanda is the one dead, he can’t help but feel as if he had died along with her.

Months pass, and what remains of the Maximoff’s struggle to rebuild their life in the house they had moved into. But the loss of Wanda is large and overwhelming, and no one can stop thinking about it. Peter especially, who remains devastated and hiding in his basement, trying to shut out the world. He believes that her death is his fault for many reasons, and he just can’t stop thinking about that gaping hole in his heart where his twin sister once was.

Eventually, he can’t take it any longer and leaves the house in order to search for some way to fix it. While a part of him knows that death can’t be reversed, he is desperate and just wants his twin back. So no matter what everyone else says, he goes anyway. After all, almost nothing can stop a Maximoff when they have their mind set on something.

A few more months of searching pass, and Peter comes across a woman called Agatha Harkness (hehe). She tells him that she can bring his sister back from the dead, but she wants something in return. Peter agrees instantly, prepared to do anything to get Wanda, his other half, back.

But then, Agatha tells him that in order to get his twin back, she wants one of his mutations, but won’t tell him which one. Peter, of course, is taken aback. And while a part of him is horrified at the idea of living without superspeed or metallokinesis, he agrees once again. His sister is more important that his powers, after all.

(Did I mention that this is sort of based off of the song ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ from the little mermaid? Because it is.)

ANYWAYS!!! Agatha does her thing, and wisps of purple magic surrounds Peter. A part of him is terrified and wants to pull away from it, but he forces himself to keep still. Soon enough, some of the purple magic slams into him, and he cries out when he feels a harsh tug on his chest. It’s painful, but not as painful as losing his twin, and yet, he still ends up passing out.

When he wakes up, it’s in a run down looking house with no Agatha in sight. But, as he gets up, he sees his sister sprawled out on the floor nearby. He runs to her side, and as soon as he drops to his knees beside her, Wanda’s eyes snap open. And suddenly, their bond snaps back into place, and that emptiness in his heart and soul is filled.

Wanda is alive.

But Wanda is pretty confused. She asks him what’s going on, bc the last thing she remembers is the house falling on top of her, followed by pain and then darkness. Peter, upon hearing her voice, just bursts into tears and clings to her. Wanda, despite being confused, can sense his relief and distress and hugs him back.

Soon, Peter pulls away, and Wanda asks once again what happened. And he tells her. He tells her that she had caused the building to collapse on top of her, he tells her that she had died. And he tells her about meeting Agatha, who promised she could bring Wanda back at the price of one of his mutations.

Peter pauses when he gets to the mutation part though, and terrified, he tries to go back into superspeed. The world slows down, and he is close to crying with relief. His superspeed hadn’t been taken. But then he realizes what that means. Dropping out of superspeed, Peter reaches out a hand and tries to call something metal over to him. But it doesn’t work.

He had lost his metallokinesis, and although that hurts, his twin had been brought back to him, and that’s all that matters.

moodboard brought to you by post break up ricky bc HOLY SHIT

#actually this also works for after reading i want to break free #like thats what i did for the rest of the day it was so intense and brutal and heavy #and also off topic ANYWAY #peter maximoff #wanda maximoff

[kyotarou]

tenya iida as a dad headcanons

FEM!READER

characters: tenya iida

warnings: none except pure fluff

a/n: i try to make all my fanfics gender neutral but this one will be a fem! reader fic bc pregnancy is mentioned. i apologize, but dw, there will be more gender neutral fics coming up!

*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆*･ﾟ.:ﾟ

Gets very excited at the idea of having kids but wants to wait until you have both settled down and gotten stable jobs

Most likely has kids in his late twenties to early/mid thirties

When you have a chat about trying for kids, Tenya’s eyes light up and he starts rambling

“Our son, our own little Iida! He can carry on the title of Ingenium! If he has the same Quirk, I can teach him how to use it and train him to be an honorable, respectful hero-”

He stops when he notices you staring at him

“What is it? Am I thinking too far ahead?”

You say something along the lines of, “What if we have a daughter with my Quirk?” and flash him a look that says ‘Sexist much?’.

Tenya starts panicking and doing his famous arm chops, “T-There’s nothing wrong with having a daughter! I’d be happy no matter what, and she can become Ingenium, too. Of course, if she has your Quirk she can carry on your name, but nonetheless I will be grateful to be the father of your children-”

You laugh, “Tenya, I was joking, but I’m glad I got to hear that.”

Lucky for him, you become pregnant with a boy

During those 9 months he treats you like ROYALTY and even takes time off work to pamper you

Tenya is a big crier when it comes to his family; cries when the test is positive, when you have your first ultrasound, when the baby’s gender is revealed, when you give birth—this man has shed so many tears during the whole journey

Your baby is a near carbon copy of him; blue-black hair, same nose, lips, and equally bad eyesight (when he’s a bit older Tenya buys him the same style of glasses he wears and it lowkey freaks you out to have a mini-Tenya in your home), but he has your eye shape and color

You both manage to balance your schedules as pro heroes to make sure you give your son the best care

Tenya can be a workaholic at times but when your son starts crying and saying he misses his daddy, he’ll stay home cause he doesn’t want him to feel neglected

If it gets too hectic, you leave him with Uncle Tensei to babysit for a bit, but that’s on rare occasions

Around age 5, you and Tenya are supervising him at a birthday party with your former classmates’ kids

They’re playing tag when suddenly your son goes ZOOM and everyone is like wtf?? then they see the engines poking out of his calves

Tenya starts crying (typical) and lowkey brags that his genetics are just that powerful

This man becomes so soft it almost hurts to think about

Tenya is so so thankful for you and feels guilty you had to endure all that pain during pregnancy, so he makes sure you know how much he loves you every day

Hugs, cuddles, and kisses 24/7

Your son thinks it’s gross of course and always screams when he sees you two kissing and it never fails to make you laugh

One night, it’s Tenya’s turn to read your son a bedtime story

You walk past his room, getting ready for bed, but stop when you hear Tenya’s normally strong and gruff voice become gentle and quiet

Then you realize he’s not reading

“Daddy, what does getting married mean? My teacher told us she’s getting married soon so she won’t be at school. Is it something bad?”

Tenya thinks of the simplest way to explain it

“No, son, it’s not. Getting married is special. It’s like having a best friend, but more. You spend so much time with your best friend that you realize you could spend the rest of your life with them, too. You love them so much you want to be with them forever, like how I love Mommy. When you get married, you make a promise, a big one. You promise to never leave them, to take care of them no matter what.”

“Do you have to kiss?”

A deep chuckle rumbles in Tenya’s chest

“Only if you want to. It’s how you show someone you love them without actually saying it, which is why Mommy and I do it.”

You peek through the door and see your son stick out his tongue and giggle

“Okay… well, I have a secret to tell you, Daddy! Promise you won’t tell anyone else?” He motions for Tenya to come close.

Your husband drops his ear close to your son’s mouth. “I promise. Your secret is safe with me.”

Your son presses a quick kiss to Tenya’s cheek and bursts into giggles again

“That’s my secret!”

Tenya’s eyes go wide and a soft smile forms on his face

He kisses your son’s forehead with his eyes closed and you betcha he’s about to cry again

“I love you, too.”

#tenya iida #tenya iida x reader #tenya iida x y/n #tenya iida x you #iida tenya #iida tenya x reader #iida tenya x y/n #iida tenya x you #tenya iida fanfic #tenya iida fanfiction #iida tenya fanfic #iida tenya fanfiction #mha headcanons #mha fandom #mha tenya iida #mha iida #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha fanfic #bnha fancom #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #iida x reader #iida x fem reader #iida x you #iida x y/n #tenya x reader #tenya x you #tenya x y/n #mha headcanon

[i-need-air]

bruh i almost really only if you’re okay with it wanna part 2 of kiri’s but like it has a married life and kids because dog hybrid kiri with kids or normal puppies too just sound adorable

That sounds so cute so I decided to mix both things. Here you have Kiri with doggos and kiddies 🥺💕

In here reader can get pregnant and ig goes by "mommy", I wanted to make it like this bc imagine smol lil kirishimas running around with smol black tails and wiggly ears and;;;; I'm soft—

Word count: 1.4k

[ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ] [ Masterlist ]

× since we've established he starts as a dog trainer, expect to have doggos around the house all the time

× but it takes some good months for him to ever consider adopting one with you

× he's really aware of both of your financial situation so he'd need his business to boom before considering it, and maybe renting a bigger apartment

× what was good was that his internet fame got him sponsors and extra-cash

× whenever the time comes to consider it and talk it with you, he'd sit you down and mutter a cute "I was thinking—" while he's cuddling into your chest

× guess who's ready to do at the next shelter to adopt? Kiri is so eager to help another life 🥺

× adopts a big pitbull that's the sweetest thing in reality and in a few days he takes the doggo with him at work

× seriously loves seeing you cuddling big soft furry baby but gets jealous playfully; dog's in your lap? lifts you both up and now you're all in his lap, don't question it

× calls it Dynamo or something, saying he wants to honor his friend that he still had to find 🥺🥺🥺

× they're inseparable and look so intimidating together ajdjkejs until he smiles brightly and dog starts jumping around happy to exist; they both wiggle their tails and i swear just the cutest ever omg

× now before he considers children [ daydreams about it around 2 hours a day but sure ] he wants to be able to give you more

× saves up for a promise ring a few months in the relationship

× "My heart will forever be yours and someday I want to officially be able to call you mine" manly speech but he's tearing up while he puts it on your ring finger

× marriage between species was still a dicey issue, although it was legal some people still protested about it daily

× still believed in your relationship and was willing to take whatever came your way

× wants to do it the right way because he's a firm believer you deserve the best and wants to give it to you

× you did have to have a very small wedding but it did not matter to him and hopefully to you either

× KIDDIES!!!! skfjsljdhs I'm melting bc

× you guys planned it, right? it had to be a good time for both of you and had to have space for a smol little pack

× yeah, he calls it a pack; it seems it comes from his old days where his closest friends called themselves that and he now wants his own

× when you're settled and surprise him with the news???? falls on his knees, puts his forehead on your belly and sighs, taking his shaky hands to place them there too

× it's happening, it really is

× both him and Dynamo get very protective of you

× they've always been but it's as if the dog actually feels his owner on the edge protecting his mate

× from the day you've told him you're expecting he's gonna carry you around

× i mean, he likes to do it, leave him have it

× but he's fucking embarrassing as hell; once your belly starts getting bigger and let's say you find each other on the street, he's gonna pick you up bridal style and walk you home

× all the neighborhood simps for you both

× [ unrelated but everyone has a crush on him and are jealous of u, i don't make the rules ]

× doesn't matter if you scold him all flustered bc he's just going to laugh wholeheartedly and say some cheesy stuff like "It's just that I'm too happy right now" and he makes you shut up and boil of embarrassment

× oh my god; he puts his head on your belly and listens to two heartbeats [ has very good hearing ] and gets soft as fuck

× when the bundle of happiness arrives he's crying

× like he cries cries

× holds the baby and cries

× baby cries and he cries

× you're washing the baby and he observes the scene, crying

× absolutely adores both of you

× hear me out; smoll bby has an even smoler tail

× that they wiggle whenever they see their momma or dadda...

× yeah, from the first few weeks baby does that and it kills you

× [ imagine: ] it's 3 A.M., baby woke you two up crying and he kisses your forehead, urging you to go back to sleep; he goes to the baby's room and picks em up softly, holding them close to his chest and singing a sweet lullaby in his deep raspy voice, just above a whisper; Dynamo is a self-proclaimed bodyguard so the dog is always by the baby's door... you get up to see what's taking him so long and he's just sitting on the armchair in the room, kissing your baby's forehead tenderly...

× i really love the idea of Kiri having a daughter just because he'd be such a great dad; pick cute clothes, do her hair, play with her, have tea-parties; 🥺 strong big man with cute daughter? 💘💖💘💖💘

× gets so soft for his pup; calls your kid a pup; pup responds with wiggly tail

× she starts learning the puppy eyes from his dad and now, for sure, it's the death of you

× you're gone now, one of those looks and you can't argue anything and give in

× i feel he'd post about his family online and that's when his following would just explode, basically turning him into an advocate for hybrid lives and showing the world they're not different from normal humans; still keeps his privacy cuz people are mean mfs sometimes

× can we just accept the fact that they're both a mess? loud, clumsy and sunshine-y?

× her first words are Mamma and he instantly jumps in her face to ask "Hey, what aBOUT DADDY?!?!?!?"

× will get out of his way to make his smol sunshine giggle and her adorable cute laughs are his life juice

× gets energy to eat the world afterwards

× has this exagerated way of talking just to entertain the baby; even mundane things like: gasps —and I— dramatic pause to look around —made a MILKSHAKE! throws his arms in the air, making bb giggle and clap

× ridiculous dad;

× places your daughter on Dynamo's back and makes it carry her around like a horse

× gives her a paper made sword and roars a battle cry

× adorable squeal-like roar in response from his daughter

× also will have her be on his shoulders if you guys walk anywhere, keeping her in place by holding her chubby legs secured

× dumb songs for everything while they walk; "We're going to the mall, WE'RE GONNA BUY IT ALL, WE WANT SOME CHICKEN NUGGETS AND MAYBE GET SOME MUFFINS"

× "No."

× insert puppy eyes

× "... fine..."

× "WE'RE GOING TO THE MALL—"

× will want more children; like i said, he wants his own pack

× is more than happy to adopt hybrids too; he knows specially the youngest ones are treated badly so if you can't have children, please consider it

× because he will love them with all his heart and he has so much love and care to give

× just think about how he'd be surrounded with two, three children, all trying to climb on him, one hanging on his beefy arm, another clawing his leg, one on his shoulders; such a sight~

× every time he sees his kids doing anything he watches them carefully then turns to you with love in his eyes

× "You make me the happiest man alive"

× you gave him a new life, such happiness he only dreamed about in his darkest days and is thankful every single day;

× sometimes forgets how incredibly amazing he is, yet your words help him

× if your children call him the best dad ever?

× beams

× brighter than the sun itself

× will give it all for your family

× now and forever

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!kirishima #married Kirishima #kirishima headcanons #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #noire writes

[fandom-puff]

Malfoy!Reader dating Fred Weasley

Requested by: anon

AN: I put the reader as a slytherin bc... malfoys... and at age eleven she wanted to be in the same house as her brother, her dad etc. Also, reader is draco’s twin so their relationship didn’t start when she was too young. Also, this is a bit of an AU, so Fred doesn’t die lol

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing, Lucius and Draco being quite prejudiced, references to sex but no actual getting jiggy with it

You had always thought Fred snd george were funny, and had been rather sad when they left school in your fifth year

Of course, you didn’t let on to Draco, as he would certainly tell mother (he was rather a mummy’s boy, but you couldn’t point that out to him, as he would just tell you that you’re a daddy’s girl)

You spent your summer daydreaming, sitting in the gardens in the manor or gazing out of your window

Your mother was beginning to talk about arranging a marriage for you (she had been in one, as had Aunt Bella, as well as most traditional pure bloods), but you brushed off every suitor she suggested, with increasingly ridiculous excuses

“Oh, honestly, YN, if you carry on like this, mother and father will have to marry you off to blood traitors like the Weasleys,” Draco teased, and you tensed up slightly

“Oh shut it, Draco, at least theyre one of the only pure blooded families that don’t fuck their cousins and force their daughters into arranged marriages,” you huffed, storming off to your bedroom

Several days later, your mother came to your room and asked if you were coming to diagon Alley with her and Draco

You agreed, and while Draco and narcissa were fussing over robes in madam malkin’s shop, you slipped away to check out the brand new Weasley shop

It was wonderful, and you quickly got distracted by all the colours and sounds and displays

That was until a second year bolted past you and caused you to stumble up some steps, but a strong hand grabbed your arm, stopping your fall

“Oi! Watch it- nearly broke this lovely girl’s neck!” He shouted, before leaning down to you. “You alright? Oh. Well if it isn’t Miss Malfoy,” he grinned, without malice.

“Yeah... Draco’s getting his robes fitted and I couldn’t be arsed listening to his whining. I... I really love the shop,” you said bashfully. “Be careful though, Filch will be banning postal orders to the school,” you grinned, and you settled into easy conversation as Fred took you on a tour of the shop

Ron, Harry, hermione and George watched with dropped jaws

Eventually, you had to leave, to stop your mother and brother from getting suspicious

On the train to hogwarts, you sat with Draco and Blaise and Pansy (And you had to stop yourself from gagging at pansy’s simpering)

Draco made a comment on the weasleys finally having a bit of gold yet still wearing their ‘tat’

“Enough, Draco. Money doesn’t define people’s worth” you snapped

“Ugh, don’t tell me you fancy one of them, YN,”

“Ha! Which one, they breed like rabbits!” Palsy chimed in.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you said, and went to go and sit elsewhere

The argument was forgotten w little while later, and a few weeks into term, a small barn owl landed in front of you, dropping a letter, addressed to ‘the loveliest Malfoy’

You hurried off to read the letter, which was an invite from Fred to the three broomsticks on the next hogsmeade weekend and the rest, as they say was history.

Your relationship with Fred remained a secret for several months up until the Christmas holidays, when you returned from Fred’s with a rather impressive love bite just beneath your ear that you hadn’t noticed before you left

Your mother knew something was off instantly- you looked a little more... serene than usual, your hair (which you had left the house in a neat braid) was loose and slightly tousled

Her suspicions were confirmed when at dinner, you tucked your hair behind your ear, and Draco’s fork clattered to the floor.

“Bloody hell, YN!” He said, smirking. “Thought you said you went shopping with Astoria and Pansy!”

You frowned, but then quickly realised, trying to sweep your blonde hair back over the hickey, but your father had stood up from the head of the table and marched over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side.

“Who did this, YN?” He asked, seething at the idea of someone taking advantage of his little girl. “Tell me, YN,”

You gulped and looked away, your father sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will discuss it after dinner in my study,”

Draco smirked deviously, eating quicker so he could get in on the action

“Alone,” Lucius said pointedly.

After dinner, your mother healed the bruise with magic and walked you to Lucius’s study.

The three of you say together in silence for a moment, before your father spoke.

“Was it Zabini?” You shook your head

“Crabbe? Goyle? I swear, I will tear them limb from-“

Narcissa placed a hand on his knee soothingly, turning to you. “Who was it, darling?”

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered, hanging your head. “I-I’m sorry, father. We’ve been seeing eachother for months, writing and... well, I went to see him today. I’m sorry I lied about going shopping, but I knew you’d never let me leave the house if you knew...”

Lucius sighed slightly and narcissa frowned between her husband and her daughter, nodding slowly.

“Right,” Lucius said. “YN. Come. I need to have a word with Arthur Weasley,”

You looked at your mother desperately. “Don’t worry darling,” she murmured, eyes twinkling, and you nodded, following your father to the apparition point

***

“Bloody hell... is that... is that malfoy?”

Ron and Harry ran to the sitting room, where Arthur was reading.

“Dad... you’ll never guess... Lucius malfoy’s coming up the path!”

Arthur sighed and sent the boys upstairs, opening the door

“Lucius,” he greeted, tone a little tense.

Your father’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he gestured to you.

“My daughter revealed something rather surprising to me today, Arthur,” he said and you worried your lip. “She told me that she had been seeing one of your sons behind my back,”

Arthur stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You looked very nervous.

“I... didn’t know Ron was seeing anybody,” he said hesitantly

Lucius was about to speak again, but your cut him off. “No... not Ron, Mr Weasley, sir. Er... I’ve been seeing Fred,”

“I think you’d best come in, both of you. Molly!”

Ten minutes later you were settled at the scrubbed kitchen table, sipping tea in an uncomfortable silence as Lucius and Arthur stared at eachother challengingly.

You looked over at Mrs weasley apologetically and she smiled kindly, reaching over to squeeze your hand to reassure you

“Honestly, two grown men trying to stare eachother down like fourth years!” She huffed, flinging a handful of floo powder into the fire, leaning down to speak into it. “Fred Weasley, you had better come through this fireplace in the next ten seconds!” She called

Pretty soon Fred was stumbling through, grinning

His eyes softened when he saw you and widened when he saw your father

“Er... have a... nice Christmas, Mr Malfoy?” He asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as you mentally facepalmed.

Lucius stood up and drew his wand

You gasped, grabbing his arm. “Dad no!” You cried, looking at him pleadingly as he marched over to Fred, backing him into the wall with his wand at his throat. Arthur’s wand was also drawn while Molly shook her head

“If you ever hurt my daughter,” your father said in a low, silky voice. “If you break her heart, cause her harm or force her to do anything, I will kill you, Weasley. If I hear that you have used, abused or manipulated my little girl, I will personally see to it that you are never seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

Fred nodded, eyes wide

Lucius quickly moved away, putting his wand back into its holder. “Well,” he said. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of,” he offered his hand to Arthur, who (after a hard glare from Mrs weasley) shook it.

Molly then turned to Fred herself and said “if I hear that you hurt YN in any way, it won’t just be Mr Malfoy you’ll have to deal with, Fred Weasley,” she said menacingly, wagging her finger at him.

Fred nodded.

As your parents went outside to discuss a sort of truce, you went to Fred, wrapping your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest.

From outside, your parents saw your loving embrace, your gentle kiss, the way Fred cupped your cheek and pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead gently, molly sighed happily. “He’ll look after her,” she murmured

Both fathers spoke at once

“He’d better.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @kashishwrites @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #malfoy!reader #fred weasley headcanons #harry potter #hp #request #fluff #harry potter au

[nocturnalazura]

There are too many, I repeat, too many scenarious with Daddy Dabi. The most simple ones. Dabi comforts his baby after a nightmare, Dabi teaches the baby a swear word, Dabi feeds the baby and ot ends up being a mess… too many damn scenarious vut I leave that to you bc you’re the mastermind🙏🏻

EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP BECAUSE DABI COMFORTING HER AFTER A NIGHTMARE????? Ok anyway lets dive into these cute little scenes because I fucking can't. (Note: I have named their child Hina so for future reference on all future Daddy Dabi things she is now Hina) (also I wrote half of this on mobile so ignore any errors. I’ll fix it later)

Nightmares: It's late at night, their little apartment filled with silence until a quiet little voice cuts through the air of your bedroom.

"Daddy?" Comes a little whimper from the doorway.

It takes him a second but after another small whimper from the door he's sitting up and looking over to see a little shadow in the door way. The quiet sound of sniffling has him shooting up and moving to get to her quickly. Crouching in front of her, he doesn't even get a chance to say anything before she's launching herself into him, little body shaking as she trembles and cries, one little arm wrapped around his neck while the other holds onto her stuffed animal.

"Hina? Hey my little monster what's wrong?" He questions wrapping his arms around her.

"Daddy, monsters and noises and daddy!" Hina wails.

"Touya? What's wrong with Hina?" You mumbles sitting up to look over at their silhouettes in the doorway.

"I got her go back to sleep."

Picking her up he takes her back into her room, in the soft light of her little night light he can see all of the tears running down her face. She sniffles more and buries her face in his chest and continues to cry as he sits down on her bed.

"What happened?" He ask in the softest voice he can manage. She immediately launches into a warbled story of the nightmare she had, something about monsters and being alone somewhere no one could get to her. At the end of the story her tears start up again and she presses her face into him again sobbing. "Hina hey you're fine, I'm here, your mom's in the bedroom you're ok."

Leaning back against the wall he warms a hand and presses it against her back so she can feel the warmth through her top. It takes a little bit, rubbing small circles against her back while whispering the occasional reassurance to her before her cries finally start to stop. She sits up in his lap still clutching her little stuffie. His heart breaks a little as he looks over her tear stained face and bright blue eyes slightly swollen from sobbing.

“M sorry daddy.” Hina sniffs wiping her eyes.

“You got nothing to be sorry about. You ok?”

“Yeah.” She says rather hesitantly.

“You sure?” Finally she give a little shake of her head before falling back into his chest. “Hey, you know I’m not gonna let anything hurt you right?”

“I know.”

“You got nothing to worry about, most people are here are pretty scared of me so I’d say your safe.”

“Why are they scared of you?”

“That’s something you can find out about when your older.”

“Ok”

“Wanna try going back to sleep?” He asks rubbing her back again.

“Yeah, but can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?” She asks, bottom lip jutted out as she gives him her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine. But only for tonight.” He sighs, standing he scoops her up before walking back to your bedroom and letting her crawl into bed first before sliding in after her. Snuggled up between the two of you she quickly falls back asleep completely unaware of you turning over to face them.

“She got you wrapped around her little finger mr.villain.” You joke quietly.

“Shut up.”

Teach that kid to talk

So Hina’s first word is either dada (because daddy’s girl) or she straight up just says a little jumbled version of fuck.

Now if her first word is dada you know damn well this man is proud as fuck. But this is his kid, she’s gotta have an edge to her. So not long after she starts saying a couple more words he sets to work. Every time you’re out leaving him alone with her, he’s got her seated on his lap as he stares at her very seriously.

“Hina come on you can say it. Say fuck.”

“Dada.” She gurgles followed by little giggles.

“Yeah I know you can say that. Come on say fuck. Say fuck for daddy.” He tried again even using a softer voice that could almost be considered baby talk. “Come on be a good little monster for daddy. Say fuck. Fu-ck.”

She just giggles and lets out happy little chirps or dada. This isn’t the end he keeps trying. He goes about this for another couple weeks. Until finally you’re happily playing with her, having a pretend conversation as she babbles nonsense and the few words she knows.

“What else can my baby say? Can she say mama?” You coax smiling at her. Dabi watches leaning on kitchen counter, picking at left overs you had saved him.

Then time stops, your cute, sweet, perfect little Angel of a daughter babbling away happily lets out a soft little “fwuck”

Your eyes widen, Dabi inhales and nearly chokes on his food and she giggles. You just stare at her trying to process if you heard her correctly. Dabi coughs loudly in the kitchen trying to clear his throat before finally bursting out in laughter. Not his normal little snort, or snicker, full on bent over can’t breathe laughter. You honestly can’t decide what’s more shocking, your baby cursing or the fact that Dabi is genuinely laughing. But that clears out quickly, as funny as it you can’t help but be a little ticked at him.

“Dabi?” You question calmly.

“Eh? What no Touya?” He says finally catching his breath.

“Fine, Touya, did you teach my baby to fucking curse!?”

Queue another little chirp of “fwuck!”

Feeding the monster.

Hina is a pretty good baby for the most part, she like many kids has her moments where she melts down but she generally good. Feeding her isn’t hard at all, at first. When it was just a bottle Dabi would usually find his spot on the couch lean against the armrest, pull his knees up some and prop her up there and hold the bottle for her. He’d adjust the way she sat as needed always making sure that she was ok. Solid food is a whole different ball game for this man.

You leave him to feed her while you take a much needed long and hot bath.

He’s got her set up in her little high chair, little bowl filled with, honestly he’s not sure what it is he wasn’t listening when you told him what it was but it smells good. Hina makes a grabby hand for the small spoon he has, frowning when he pulls it away. She lets out a dissatisfied huff of not getting her item.

“Calm it you little monster, I’m gonna give you your food.” He grunts.

She impatiently bangs her tiny fists on the tray of the chair and let out little grunts and huffs. Scooting closer to her he takes a little spoonful and over it to her. When she just stares at him he moves it closer letting it touch her lips for a moment before she finally opens to accept it. He repeats this process a few times, awkwardly moving his arm around when she tries to steal the spoon again. It’s going pretty good, she’s got some food on her face from turning her head away and smacking the spoon but not to bad.

Then she decides she’s pretty much done. Little hands grab at the spoon more insistently spilling it on the tray and at some points managing to grab it enough to have it flick food back on him when she lets go. Annoyance rolls off him in heavy waves when he makes the absolutely stupid mistake of setting the little bowl down to wipe the food off his face. The bowl immediately is knocked off the tray as she tries to grab at it but is just a little short. It falls, spills is contents on his shirt and pants as it goes tumbling to the floor leaving a little trail of food behind it.

“And we’re fucking done here.” He grumbles getting her out of the chair.

The moment he picks her up little food covered hands and her little face are are all over him. She presses her littler version of opened mouth kisses all over his cheek smearing more food on him while her little hands grab at his hair and shirt.

Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in your robe you go to head into the bed room but stop and turn around again. Slapping a hand over your mouth you try your best to it laugh at him, standing there daughter now held away from as he grumbles at her. Both of them covered in food.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh.” He snaps when he sees you.

“Would you like some help?”

“No id like to just stand here covered in food.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass I’m not gonna help you.” You growl pointedly, he deflated slightly as that finally pulling her back towards him as she starts to fuss. “Did she actually eat it or just cover the two of you in it?”

“She fuckin ate don’t worry not hurry up.”

#lena's soft hours 🌙 #soft dabi hours #daddy dabi #Sent with Love