#//i don’t want to see other people’s likes thanks

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

[luveline]

I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!

dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k

When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection. 

“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.

“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room. 

“Love you, dad,” Dove says.

“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.” 

Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says. 

“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?” 

He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.” 

“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest. 

She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly. 

“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.” 

The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.” 

“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.” 

“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts. 

“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly. 

“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts. 

Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.

“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him. 

“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible. 

He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly. 

“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic. 

Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable. 

“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!” 

“What?” he asks. 

“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.” 

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?” 

Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.” 

“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you. 

“I didn’t see her.” 

“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.” 

Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?” 

“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?” 

Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out. 

Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you. 

There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly. 

You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss. 

“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth. 

“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?” 

Beth takes a deep breath. 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[enwoso]

PUPPY LOVE — alessia russo

*i don’t want anyone to think i haven’t forgotten about anyone’s request, i’ve started/planned all those that have been sent in and i’m slowly getting through them, and some should be posted by the end of the week! but thank you for the support on my last fics. i love and appreciate you all<33*

navigation

you loved your birthday.

some people you knew hated the thought of being born in january, as they saw it as a depressing and cold month. the fact it was right after christmas and all the festivities had died down. but you, you loved it.

after christmas and new year it gave you something to be excited for. having your birthday in the first week of january wasn't all too bad, christmas lights still lingered in the streets as well as small hints of christmas left behind. it all brought a huge smile to your face.

the sun peering though the crack in the curtains as alessia laid draped over you, her arm stretched across your body as her face was hidden in your neck. not wanting to disturb the blonde, you lay looking at the ceiling as your fingers rubbed through her hair.

not long after the blonde began to stir, moving a little as her face became a little more clear as a smile appeared on your face. brushing the loose blonde hairs that had escaped her low bun she had slept in, out of her face.

her head moving a little so you could not see her and the small smile that was on her lips, "happy birthday, tesoro" she mumbled her eyes still shut as she placed a gentle and sleep kiss on you neck. "i love you"

"thank you, lessi. i love you too" you turned to move the blonde so that you were both now facing each other instead of her lying on top of you, a few grumbles coming from the blonde as you moved her that she was already comfy.

looking at her, her eyes just beginning to open slightly as she rubbed them as they adjusted to the light that was beaming into the room. grinning as she pulled you closer back into her embrace, the tips of your noses touching.

a few moments of silence happen, before you close the gap. attaching your lips to the blondes. it was slow and soft the kiss, full of love. her hands found your waist, her fingertips warm as they drew tiny little circle on your hips. pulling away, not before pecking your lips a few more times making you giggle as she smiled.

"hope your ready for today to be all about you?" she whispered as your eyebrows raised, she had been telling you that she had been planning your birthday for weeks but unfortunately for you, you hadn't been able to drag out of her what she had planned.

usually you could push a few buttons and the blonde would crack, telling you her plans but this time she had been determined to keep it a secret making you even more curious about what she had planned.

"mhm and what does that entail?" you asked, as the blonde just smiled not saying a word instead kissing your cheek and pulling the covers off her. grabbing her phone from the bedside table leaving the bed cold as she reached the doorway.

"you just have a shower, get ready and when you come down all will be revealed" she sung out as you narrowed your eyes.

"i don't like all this secrecy from you russo!"

after having a nice slow get ready, you were finally making your way down the stairs, voices getting louder with each step you took. reaching the bottom to see the whole of your lounge decorated, balloons scattering the floor and a big happy birthday sign on the wall with a balloon arch going over the top of it.

being in shock of how much effort had gone into the decoration of the room, you hadn't even processed the fact that alessia's family and your family were sitting in the living room.

"happy birthday teeny! gio yelled, hearing alessia's parents and yours say it too but his standing out and being the loudest pulling you out from your day dream.

the nickname coming from your height difference not only from him but also your girlfriend. you being a few inches small then her.

"how long did this even take you to do?" you asked the blonde as she came over, flapping her brother on the way for the teasing comment as she wrapped you up in a hug. "oh i did this last night after you had gone to sleep!" she whispered in your ear.

"you look beautiful by the way" she kissed your cheek pulling away from the hug, as you went over to your parents saying your hellos to them as well as alessia's parents and brothers.

falling into conversation, as well as eating breakfast that your parents had brought for you. the morning going off to a lovely start surrounded by the people you love as you moved onto opening your presents as you were beginning to get bored of listening to giorgio ask when you were going to open them.

the younger russo brother insisting that you opened the one of him and luca first, it being a bottle of perfume which you had been wanting for some time, "woah, you guys shouldn't have" you sat with the box in your hand, standing up to hug the two of them in thanks.

"we had a little help from someone on which one to buy" luca said flashing a smile to alessia as you grinned.

"thank you!

moving onto your parents who had gotten you tickets to see a concert in london that you had been wanting to go to and alessia's parents getting you a weekend spa trip away, for you and alessia to enjoy one weekend when you both were off.

which left alessia who passed you a bag, moving the tissue paper from the top - revealing a small white bag and inside was a jewellery box. opening it there was a small dainty bracelet with a heart charm dangling from it. "here, look it has my initials on it and the. there's yours" your girlfriend pointed to the two letters AR and then to yours which was right next to hers.

"oh lessi you shouldn't have" you pouted, leaning over to wrap her in a hug, pecking her lips a few times as you pulled back from the hug. before wrapping her in a tighter hug.

"thank you lessi" you whispered as you hugged her, awhs being heard around the room from both familys. the blonde smiling, kissing you cheek a few times before you let go.

"i have one more thing for you.." alessia grinned as she reached down beside where she was sat, getting a small round box out that had a pretty bow on it. your brows furrowed as you looked down admiring the gifts the blonde had already gotten you wondering what more could you need from her. "here" the blonde said handing you the small round gift box.

opening the box left you even more confused, a small bright green fuzzy tennis ball - smaller than your regular tennis ball. you looked to the blonde who was sitting next to you a nervous laugh escaping you.

"i know i said i wanted a new hobby but- we, we both know i'm rubbish at sports!" you giggled not really understanding the gift looking at the russo brothers and her parents for any sort of hint of what the gift meant.

"it's not for you silly!" alessia was the one to laugh this time, leaving you to try and follow along with the riddles, "then who?" you hesitantly laughed, as the blonde stood up not saying a word and leaving the room coming back seconds later.

"for this little one!" alessia beamed, in her arms a small dark brown puppy. you sat in shock, no words could be found as the happy tears began to well in your eyes. as the blonde got closer, she placed the small puppy in your arms a red blanket covering it too keep it warm.

"no way- is this ours.. to keep?" you stuttered, your voice betraying you as you tried not to let the tears spill.

"of course, he's our little fur baby" alessia grinned as she sat next to you in her original seat, stroking the puppy on the head as you sat in utter awh.

you had been pestering the blonde for months now, about getting a dog. spending countless hours during a night time trying to convince her why having a dog would be a good idea but the answer was always, 'we both don't have time for a dog'

you had even got as far as one time drawing up a schedule of how a dog would fit into your schedule to show the blonde that it was possible to have a little puppy in your life but the answer was always the same.

"what you gonna call him then?" gio yelled over, as you looked up from your little fur baby. thought taking over you, "snoopy." you nodded out loud as everyone looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"yeah, snoopy. he suits it" you said, it sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself but also everyone in the room. "snoopy it is then!" alessia confirmed, smiling at you who was looking down at the puppy with so much love.

the rest of the day was spent with you having snoopy in your arms or cuddling with the little puppy or watching him as he napped making sure that he wasn't woken.

the two of you had bonded for life, he was your little child. that evening was spent with you cuddling with less as you watched a film she had let you pick as you cuddled with snoopy however both you and snoopy fell asleep within the first five minutes.

and there was no better way to end a perfect birthday.

liked by bethmead and 820,741 others

alessia if i ever loose them both, at least i know if i find one i’ll find the other cause there never apart!

comments -

bethmead a new friend for myle!

-> alessia can’t wait to introduce them🥹

ellatoone y/n finally got you to cave then?

-> alessia she did, love our little man snoopy!!

-> yourusername best birthday present ever!

#woso #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #arsenal wfc #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal #lionesses #ella toone #england #beth mead #enwoso

[matchaverse]

The Walls | CL16

pairing: singer!charlesleclerc x late!partner!gasly!reader

summary: with the loss of his longterm partner, charles dedicates him and his bands music about them

faceclaim: none

warning: mentions of drugs, overdose, death, thoughts of suicide, alcohol.

no part two.

2011

[instagram] yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly, and 12 others

tagged | @charleclerc @pierregasly @estebanocon

yourusername | these fools are trying to make music!

charlesleclerc: fools??

pierregasly: i’ll tell my mom that y/n is being mean

yourusername: snitch.

“y/n stop being mean to your brother and his friends” your mother, Pascale, yells from the kitchen. you huff and roll eyes as you walk down the hallway from your room to your brothers room.

“you’re such a snitch” you chuckle as you take a seat on the floor next to charles as he tunes his guitar.

your brother, pierre, just rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “maybe don’t be mean to us” he shrugs as he helps esteban with his bass.

“what happen with karting?”

“we still do that but with the way max keeps winning every single race we wanted to try and dabble into something we are passionate about” charles answers looking at you with a smile. you nod in understanding.

“you guys are pretty good a making music, so do you guys think you’ll make it big?” you ask curiously. all three boys look at each other with the same idea in mind.

“yes” they all say with certainty.

2015

[instagram] yourusername

liked by charlesleclerc, taylorswift, and 126,537 others

tagged | @ChaseAtlantic

yourusername: four years later and my brother and two best friends are playing their songs in clubs!! so proud of you three ❤️

pierregasly: thank you! we wouldn’t have been able without your support ❤️

charleslecler: someone had to be our stage manager

estebanocon: y/n literally whined for days just to get that position

yourusername: no shame, i’d do it again.

estebanocon: 😒

you’re standing backstage of the local club where the boys were playing at with a few other bookies as the three young men walk back to meet you after the show.

“you three did wonderful, truly, the crowd loved you” you say with a huge smile, giving each boy a hug.

“no, thank you for getting us a gig here” esteban chuckles as he sips from his water bottle. charles and pierre nod in agreement.

“how did you get us a gig anyways?” the monégasque man asks while crossing his arms and a small smirk rests on his lips.

you give a small shrug before answering with “used to sleep with the owner”

“what?!” pierre’s voice rings out.

2017

yourusername posted a story

caption: love the party life

replies:

charlesleclerc: wya??? you walked away

yourusername: just partying

charles lost you, pierre and esteban at this party. he’s been walking around for about twenty minutes now, his messages not sending.

“chug! chug! chug!” charles hears a loud chant of a few people hooting, he makes his way over and see you standing the middle of the circle just downing whatever liquids are in the red solo cups on the table in front of you.

he shakes his head with a sigh, making his way into the circle once you finish the last cup.

“y/n..”charles mumbles as he places a hand on your waist. you turn and look at him with a smile, he can smell the alcohol in you

“hi charlie!” you slur, letting out a giggle.

“how drunk are you?”

you shrug, you stopped counting after the first few drinks. charlie’s lets out a big sigh.

“come on, let’s find the others and head back home”

2020

[instagram] charlesleclerc

liked y yourusername, madisonbeer, and 648,638 others

tagged | @yourusername

charleslecler | one year with my love ❤️

yourusername: aww baby🥺🥺

username: y/n smokes??

username: and they party all the time

username: i mean their life ig 🤷‍♀️

username: anyone else see the one clip on twitter where y/n did a line of coke?

username: 🚩🚩🚩

username: they are grown??

username: yeah but it’s not cute

“i don’t understand what the problem is!” your voice raises to match charles’s tone.

“the problem is that you don’t understand how serious drugs and alcohol can be!” the veins on his forehead and neck look like they are about to burst from the sheer amount of anger running through his body. you can only scoff in response.

“i’m young charlie! im only 22 and it’s nothing serious!”

“YES IT IS!” you flinch at his tone. charles seems this and sighs, walking closer to you and taking your hands in his own.

“baby…i’m not saying you can’t have fun but the drugs isn’t needed to have fun..please just stop”

2022

to say charles was freaking out was an understatement, he was terrified. he didn’t understand what happen with you, you were doing so much better than last year. you weren’t partying as much and he knew you stopped drinking but he didn’t know you were still doing some type of drug.

pulling up to the hospital, charles didn’t care if his parking job was decent, the only thing on his mind was you.

“how’s y/n?” charles breaths out as he makes his way to the waiting room to meet your brother. pierre had tears in his eyes and his cheeks were puffy.

“..they..t-they said it’s not looking good” pierre breaks down, charles moves forward and pulls his best friend into a hug, trying hard to keep his own tears from flowing.

“it’s okay..it’s gonna be okay..”charles whispers, not even believing his own words.

2024

[instagram] charlesleclerc

liked by pierregasly, estebanocon, and 639,739 others

tagged | @yourusername

charlesleclerc: it’s been two years since we lost you. you were the light of my life and i’m so sorry i couldn’t help you get better. i continue living on for you, i wake up every morning to keep your name alive, you were my best friend, my other half, i love you so much ❤️

if anyone is going through hardships do not hesitate to reach out and contact someone, there are people who will help you out. reach out to me, pierre or esteban because we will help you. everyone deserves to live a happy life. 🙌

i, myself, have struggled with moving forward after losing y/n but with the help of my friends and family i knew i had to keep pushing through this hard patch in my life. i understand the struggles and pain and would never wish this onto anyone

pierregasly: two years already..

estebanocon: the world is cruel.

charlesleclerc: truly don’t understand how the world moved forward after this

username: our hearts go out to you charles!! ❤️

username: you’re so strong!!

username: i reached out to charles during my depressive episode and he is a sweetheart, he did help me out.

username: i love how charles donates to rehabs around the country

username: hes a big advocate for charities that help people who are struggling with drug addiction

username: stop that’s literally so sweet

charlesleclerc: i will spend the rest of my days advocating ❤️

tags: @honethatty12

tell me why this took like three days to write 💀

#f1 smau #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formaula one pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #esteban ocon #formula 1 charles leclerc #formula one #formula one pierre gasly #formula one esteban ocon

[ithebookhoarder]

Do you have any criminal minds fics in progress? I’d love to see more of your work for them :)

A Sweet Surprise (Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!Reader)

A/N: Oh do I? Haha. Well, whilst my inbox of requests is bursting this randomly fell out of my brain, so great timing with this I guess? I promise I will get to the other stories soon people - in the meantime, enjoy xxx

Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then visit my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Aaron being a protective partner

Masterlist

“Aaron, honey, stop," you giggled, trying and failing to wriggle free from your husband’s wandering hands. "I swear, I am fine. Don’t make me banish you back into the living room. You know Garcia has been dying to get you to play Monopoly and, so help me God, I will tell her you’re dying to be the shoe.“

Aaron’s laugh was infectious and if you weren’t so stressed you’d have melted into him. Instead, your eyes narrowed into a warning glare as he reached for you again. 

“I just think you should let me help you, honey-” he pleaded, falling silent as soon as you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen doorway. You glanced up, watching as your host for the evening, Rossi, appeared, an empty glass of wine in hand. He had clearly come in need of a refill of whatever expensive vintage he had cracked open for your monthly team dinner. 

“Help with what?” he teased, watching as Aaron sheepishly stepped back, as if he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Aaron, you may be the boss in the office but in the kitchen? We both know Y/N is the only one I trust to help me cook, so leave her be and come relax in the other room, ok? She clearly has dessert handled.” 

“Thank you, Rossi.” You smirked, pushing Aaron back with a floured covered hand. “I told him I could handle a pie, but you know what he’s like.”

“I’m just offering to help.”

“Which I thank you for, but I got this,” you assured, even if he clearly disagreed. 

“I know, but it’s been a long day, why don’t you let me finish this-”

“Aaron Hotchner, go and sit down. Now.”

Rossi’s eyes widened as he let the bickering continue, waiting until he had finished filling his glass before he decided to weigh in again. He knew the pair of you better than you knew yourselves sometimes and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what was going on here. 

Aaron was protective of those he loved at the best of times, but something was different - and considering you hadn’t touched any of the drinks that had been put in front of you tonight, he had a pretty good idea what.  

“Aaron,” he sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, come have a drink with me and the team. We both know Y/N is going to be ok. She’ll join us in a minute, or she’ll ask if she needs help.” 

"But-"

"Leave the poor girl alone," Rossi teased, shooting you both a knowing look. “Otherwise, you'll give yourselves away before we even get to dinner.”

Aaron coughed but failed to hide the shock on his face. It was no use either of you trying to deny it, not when your closest friends were also profilers. If anything, you were surprised you two had been able to hide it this long - and it had only been a mere week since you’d first told him the good news. 

“Ah,” he choked, turning slightly red. However, he relaxed as soon as you turned and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He could see you were relieved by the discovery, rather than upset, and that was enough to make him remember who it was he was sharing the news with. 

"Ha! I told youuuuu,” you sang smugly. “And now you owe me $50. I knew you’d be the one to give it away.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I will.” 

“Well, congratulations to you both,” Rossi said simply, lifting his glass in a silent toast. He then shook Aaron’s hand and reached to pull you into a hug of his own. However, it was he went to let you go that he paused. “And Y/N? If you do need a break, or want me to finish dessert, I can-“

"Oh my god, Rossi! Not you too,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Are you going to tell anyone?”  

“Oh, hell no,” he chuckled. “Given your performance tonight, I want to see if you can manage to keep it a secret from the team until dinner, let alone until work on Monday."

"So much for the being the best profilers in the US," you snorted, remembering how it had been Jack who had first worked it out rather than his usually observant father. He'd been the one to spot the pregnancy pamphlets hidden in your purse, after digging to find the candy he knew you always kept in there.

Of course, he'd only reacted with excitement upon learning he was going to be a big brother - leading to him bursting into the house, asking when he'd get to play with his new sibling... yeah, you'd thought Aaron was about to pass out he went so white.

“Hey, now. In my defence,” Aaron protested, “you're not showing yet."

"So my weird ass craving requests didn't tip you off?"

"Honey, you eat so much weird shit normally... Like, so much. Even Jack wouldn't eat half the stuff you do."

Well, he had you there. "... You still owe me $50."

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #david rossi #david rossi x reader

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4: UNDERCOVER MISSION

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

The tension between you and Bucky builds during an undercover mission.

Word count: 4.2k

Warning: ongoing miscommunications, some dirty talk, Bucky Barnes being am awkward dumbass

The mission was simple, but you didn’t want to be the one taking part. It was an undercover op where you had to integrate yourself into a community of people who were high-ranking members of a terrorist organization. It was a challenge for the other Avengers to mask their infamy. So you and Bucky were the natural choice since Bucky was now unrecognizable from his appearance as the Winter Soldier. Also, times had progressed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. technology allowed him to disguise his vibranium arm with a hologram. The first time he had put it on, a look of sadness had crossed his handsome features. He had hidden it well from the scientists and engineers, but you could see it in his eyes, the hollow haunted glaze that made you long to throw your arms around his neck and hold him until he would smile and the small crinkles around his eyes would lengthen as this steel-blue orbs sparkled. But this wasn’t your place anymore.

"Jamie! Look how amazing you look!" Priya exclaimed. 

You rolled your eyes and scowled. Who had allowed her to attend the fitting in the first place? Glancing around, you couldn’t see anyone else who seemed to object to Priya’s presence. In fact, some of the men and women seemed to be more focussed on her appearance than they were interested in the success of Bucky’s holographic arm technology. 

"Yeah, it’s gotten better." Bucky flexed his bicep and opened and closed his fist, marveling at how realistic the skin looked. "Thanks," he nodded at the project lead.

"How does it feel, Jamie?"

 Bucky shrugged. "Can't feel anything."

"It looks so realistic! Will you wear it all the time?"

You were lost in tracing the contours of Bucky’s muscular back and shoulders when Priya’s words brought you back to reality. “He doesn't need to wear it all the time,” you snapped.

“No, of course not,” Priya replied calmly, as though you were one of her small patients throwing a temper tantrum. “But sometimes James doesn't like the attention his arm draws. It makes him uncomfortable. So it would be good to have an option for him to avoid people staring.”

She was right, it would be good for Bucky to be able to wear t-shirts without being stared at, or feeling ashamed or self conscious. You despised that Bucky had to hide who he was. He was a veteran and shouldn’t have to feel the need to hide the sacrifices he had made for his country. But his past as the Winter Soldier was well known, making him a target for drawing scrutiny. You gritted your teeth, trying to formulate a counter-argument but failing. It was excruciating watching Bucky put a loving arm around her, pulling her into his side. He used to do that to you, just never so publicly.

“Thanks, Doll. It’s good to have someone looking out for me.”

The urge to punch Bucky in the face was something you did your best to push away. “Yeah, you don’t really need me here.” You slipped off the table you were perched on and turned to walk away.

"Don’t you and Bucky have to pretend to be a couple?" Priya called after you. "For this mission?"

Her questions made you stop in your tracks. Had Bucky really shared the sensitive information regarding your mission with his girlfriend?

"Yeah?" you answered, cautiously.

“Shouldn’t you hang around and see how Bucky is in a relationship then?”

“Thanks Priya, but I don’t need instructions on how to act in a relationship.” Your tone was laced with the spite you felt.

"Cricket!" Bucky looked at you, angrily. 

You hated it. It hurt that he felt these emotions towards you. But you were desperate not to lose his friendship. In a way, you hated yourself for not having the courage to tell Bucky how you felt. And you knew that if you wanted to keep your friendship with him, you would be the one who needed to stay civil. It was harder that you’d originally thought. You were a good agent, you excelled at undercover work, but when it came to Bucky, you felt like you’d lost your mind. Your emotions were a rollercoaster ride and you often felt like you couldn’t hold back your screams any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-I-”

“It’s alright, Jamie.” Priya put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably sounded really patronizing. I just want James… both of you to be safe.”

You nodded, a heat rising up your neck and reddening your cheeks. She knew. The pitying look on her face told you that she knew how you felt about Bucky. It was humiliating. This would have been the perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow you. But alas, of all the times you’d been surprised by the loss of integrity beneath your feet, this was the one time where the floor remained as sturdy as ever.

“Don’t worry, Cricket and I have been partners for a long time. We’ve got this. I’m sure she’ll take good care of me.” He turned to you and smiled softly. “She always does.”

You didn’t quite know how to interpret Bucky’s use of partners, he had always called you his friend. What had changed now? You returned his smile sadly. “I'll do my best.”

Bucky took the hologram off his arm and handed it back to its creator. “I'll come by tomorrow for this. Come on, Priya,” he put a hand on her back. “I'll take you home, I need to get an early night, we leave pretty early tomorrow.”

Priya smiled at him, “Sounds great, I can say goodbye properly there.”

With a heavy heart, you watched them leave before following at a distance where you wouldn’t have to hear their chatter. Bucky had never looked so animated before and jealousy burned inside you. So you decided to head back to your quarters where you could treat yourself to a comforting dinner and fall asleep to escape the pain and anxiety of what was to come.

*

Your alarm went off at 4.30am and you groaned, rolling out of bed. There was no time to lounge around, there was a mission to complete and you always set your alarm for the last minute. A quick bracing shower woke you sufficiently enough for you to dress in a light, comfortable travel outfit and grab some coffee in the kitchen at the end of your corridor. You finished making a coffee for yourself and were pouring the leftovers into a travel mug when a slightly disheveled Bucky made an appearance.

"Thanks," he grunted, taking the mug you offered him.

"I thought you were getting an early night?" you smirked at him.

"Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?" he replied, sarcastically. 

"What happened? Goodbye took longer than expected?"

It was Bucky’s turn to smirk. "Actually, we ended up having to say it several times."

His words made your face fall and your eyes twitch dangerously. It was time to retreat from this conversation. "We should get going."

Bucky nodded, falling instep beside you silently. He had noticed the change in your tone.

"Cricket?"

"Is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah! Why do you ask?" Your face remained impassive, but your soul was screaming with fear.

"Things have changed so much. I guess… I was just checking."

"You don’t think we can do this?" you asked, trying to deflect from the real issue at hand. But your question held more depth than you cared to admit.

"It just feels like we’re not as … in sync as we used to be."

"And why do you think that is, Bucky?"

Bucky stopped walking. "Ever since I introduced you to Priya, you’ve built this wall between us. I don’t understand what your problem is, Cricket. She’s been nothing but nice to you."

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to choose your words very carefully or the truth would come spilling out and the embarrassment would be unbearable. "I don’t have a problem with Priya."

"Then what is it? What is your problem?"

You tried to think of an answer, but the only words that your brain screamed at you were "I LOVE YOU!"

"I don’t know," you whimpered. You bit down on your lower lip to stop it trembling, but nothing could stop the tears building up in your eyes. You dropped your head to hide your face but not soon enough for Bucky to catch sight of the water fall from your eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arm around you, sweeping you into a much needed hug. He smelled like home. You missed his warmth, the closeness you’d had. Bucky’s sturdiness made you want to melt into him, to break down, to confess your feelings to him. But the vibration of your phone brought you back to your sad lonely reality.

"Hello?" you answered the device.

Bucky wiped a stray tear from your face with his thumb as he listened to Steve’s voice asking where you were.

"We’re coming, Steve." Bucky raised his voice so Steve would be able to hear him through the phone in your hand, before reaching over and hanging up the phone. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded, sadly.

"I'm worried about you, you know that, right?"

"I'll be fine, Bucky. I won't fuck this up."

"Not the mission. Fuck the mission. I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine, Buck. But thank you… for caring."

The two of you reached the hangar bay where Steve was waiting impatiently with your mission packs. He handed them to you wordlessly, analyzing your faces for signs of concern. You avoided eye contact with him, hoping he wouldn't notice your slightly reddened eyes.

"This one's important. We all need this to work."

"We got this, Cap!" You saluted him with a grin plastered across your face.

Steve rolled his eyes at you and even Bucky couldn't help but smile as you led the way to the quinjet. Bucky was going to fly the two of you to a southern Italian resort where the conference was taking place. The conference was a cover for major arms dealers and Bucky would be posing as a representative to a S.H.I.E.L.D. fabricated 'bad guy’ named Zandor.

Bucky’s cover was James Road, Zandor’s right hand man and you were playing Sabrina Road, James's wife. You had been told to expect a high end affair at a deluxe resort where the various representatives would schmooze with each other, gathering intelligence and allies. You weren't worried about your safety, not with Bucky at your side, but you didn't want your cover blown or to fail to get what you needed.

Bucky had once told you that he had never felt like a ‘James’, Bucky was the only name he had really known. It always made you wonder why he never asked Priya to call him ‘Bucky’. You wondered how he would react to you calling him James for the next few days. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Bucky interrupted your musings.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many intrusive questions. For some reason, tears seemed too close to the surface for your liking these days.

Bucky set the quinjet’s controls to autopilot and swiveled his chair to face you. "Steve gave me something before we left. One of them is for you."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside it were a beautiful pair of matching wedding rings, made of a shiny rose gold. Bucky slipped one onto his finger and held his hand out, palm facing up. But the other ring wasn’t what he was offering. He was holding out his hand for you to take, so he could place the ring on your finger. What you wouldn’t give for that moment to be real!

"Here, hand it over." You snatched the ring unceremoniously out of the velvet box, your heart pounding. The metal was cool against your skin, and you marveled at the delicate craftsmanship. The rose gold glimmered in the soft light of the quinjet’s cabin, casting a warm glow.

Bucky’s eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. His fingers brushed against yours as he took the ring back from you. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. For a moment, the world outside the quinjet ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, suspended in this charged atmosphere.

He held your hand gently, turning it so your palm faced down. The ring slid onto your finger smoothly, a perfect fit. He wanted nothing more than to hold on to you forever, lost in the comfort of your touch and your eyes.  You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. His cerulean eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination. It was as if he was silently saying, this is real, even if it’s just for this mission.

"James," you whispered, testing out the name. It felt strange on your tongue, yet oddly right. He didn’t flinch or correct you. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

"Sabrina," he murmured, his lips brushing your knuckles. The intimacy of the moment stole your breath away. You wondered if he could hear your heart racing.

The quinjet hummed around you, cocooning you both in its metal embrace. Outside, the world continued to spin, but here, in this stolen instant, time stood still. You wanted to believe that this wasn’t just part of the mission—that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between you and Bucky.

But reality crashed back in. The mission, the danger, the arms dealers—they all loomed ahead. You couldn’t afford distractions. Not now.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "For this."

Bucky’s smile was bittersweet. "We’ll get through this, Cricket. Just like we always do."

And with that promise hanging in the air, you both returned to your roles—the undercover couple, James and Sabrina Road. But as the quinjet soared toward Italy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission held more than just secrets and lies. Perhaps, hidden beneath it all, there was a chance for something real.

The rings on your fingers seemed to whisper their own silent vows, binding you together in this dangerous dance. And for now, that was enough. 

*

Bucky landed the quinjet in a small isolated airspace that had been predetermined to be safe by S.H.I.E.L.D.. Nat had scouted the area a few days previously and ensured an SUV was waiting for you. Both of you changed into casual holiday clothing.

Bucky’s transformation was nothing short of remarkable. The once stoic and battle-worn soldier now stood before you, bathed in sunlight, a vision of rugged charm. His light blue shirt clung to his broad chest, the top buttons undone, revealing a tantalizing hint of skin and chest hair. Beige slacks hung low on his hips, tailored to perfection. The aviators perched on his nose lent an air of mystery, shielding eyes that had seen too much. He was beautiful.

And then there was you. In a pink floral print summer dress, you were a burst of color against the backdrop of wilderness. The fabric swirled around your legs as you turned, catching the sunlight like a thousand petals. Bucky’s jaw dropped, mirroring your own reaction. His gaze traced the delicate curve of your collarbone, the soft slope of your shoulders. The air crackled with unspoken tension of the last few weeks.

The change in location seemed to have freed you from the burden of your emotions. There was a thrill of anticipation that bubbled inside you. Was it excitement or anxiety? You never could be certain, but you felt it at the start of every mission. It was you and Bucky against the world and there was no one else you'd trust more with your life. Steve and Nat had brainstormed a few ideas for James and Sabrina’s relationship but they left the details down to the two of you. They had decided that the couple you were playing would be newly weds, as Nat always said, people were uncomfortable with public displays of affection. They had even gone as far as securing the honeymoon suite for your stay. 

As the bellhop ushered you and Bucky into the honeymoon suite, the room unfolded before your eyes, a symphony of silk, candlelight, and rose petals. The air hung heavy with anticipation, like a secret whispered in the dark. The bed, a grand centerpiece, stretched out like an invitation, an intimate promise.

Yet, despite the plush surroundings and the illusion of newlywed bliss, unease settled in your chest. You stole a glance at Bucky, his features were etched in sunlight and his eyes, usually steely and guarded, now held a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the flickering glints of light between the net curtains or the soft strains of music playing in the background, but this charade felt more real than you’d anticipated.

The bed loomed large, its expanse inviting yet treacherous. It was a stage, and you were the actors, playing roles scripted by someone else. You remembered the nights when Bucky’s warmth had chased away your nightmares, the way his fingers traced constellations on your skin. But this bed wasn’t meant for whispered confessions or stolen kisses, it was but a prop, a cruel reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You glanced at Bucky again, wondering if he felt the same dissonance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze lingered on the bed. Did he remember the nights in safe houses, huddled together for warmth? Or was this just another mission, another mask to wear?

"I guess this is a bit of a waste, huh?" Bucky commented, dismissing the tension.

You forced a laugh. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky followed you out of the suite, his awareness heightened by the people milling around. As you were about to mention their presence to him, his arm slid around your shoulder. You smiled up at him, perhaps the bond between you hadn’t completely faded. In the lobby, a lounge area beckoned, its bar opening onto a sunlit terrace and pool.

"What do you think, James? Too early for a drink?" you asked.

"It’s always happy hour somewhere, baby," Bucky replied with a charming smirk.

He ordered drinks for both of you, and you settled near Nadal, your target, who was downing mimosas as if his life depended on them. He was an older Latino man who was not only handsome, but impeccably groomed. He was dressed in casual clothing, but his attire radiated power nevertheless. Bucky placed your drink in front of you, sitting close, his arm around your waist.

"Time to put on a show?" Bucky inquired.

You smirked, sliding onto his lap. "Jameeeeeeees," you whined loudly. "I thought we were on holiday. Is this why you didn’t want to take me to Hawaii? You’re always working. What about me? I have needs too, you know!"

It worked—Nadal’s attention was now squarely on you.

Bucky chuckled, locking eyes with the target. "Women!"

"Can’t live with ‘em," Nadal drawled.

"Can't fuck anything else."

You stiffened with surprise with Bucky's language. You noticed he was more reserved about using foul language, you had always chalked it up to being Steve’s influence. Now that Bucky had Nadal’s attention, they chatted amicably and you took the opportunity to make the most of your surroundings; identifying security cameras, bodyguards and escape routes. You hadn’t noticed how much you had been squirming around on Bucky’s lap, because his grip on your thighs suddenly became very tight, holding you still.

His action didn’t go unnoticed by Nadal. "Save the action for the bedroom, kids!"

Bucky slapped your ass, salaciously and you gasped. You hadn’t expected it, neither had you expected the rush of desire between your legs. "James," you whined. It was clear that your role on this mission was mostly to cast suspicion away from your partner, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t play your part well. "You promised me you wouldn’t do that in public. You know what it does to me," you pouted.

"Better not let the little lady down, Road." Nadal winked, rising from his seat. "What room are you two in?"

"Managed to bag the honeymoon suite, for this one."

"Ahh, so it’s you I lost out to?" he chuckled. "Well my husband and I will be next door. Try and keep it down, your wife seems like a screamer." With that Nadal left you and Bucky alone in the bar feeling uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Guess we’ll have to give them a show tonight," you grumbled, dropping out of Bucky’s lap.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, but from the way he was gazing off into the distance, you weren’t totally sure he was listening.

"What is it?"

"The competition."

"Great," you mumbled. "Guess we gotta get access to the intel before they do."

"What do you think our chances are if we play it by the book?" 

"Slim, they look like they mean business. And they probably have the funds to challenge our bid."

"Should we go back to the room? Nadal is probably expecting some… noise." Bucky looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

"And we’ll be better equipped to know if they leave their room."

It didn’t take long for the two of you to saunter back to the suite, Bucky’s hands were all over you and you couldn’t help but wish that it was voluntary rather than duty. You kept up a shrill giggle to make people around you look away. Once in the room, neither of you seemed to know how to proceed. Bucky had never been forthcoming with his feelings at the best of times, often switching them off when it came to work.

"So, umm… so what now?" you asked.

"He’s probably in there right now." Bucky put his ear to the wall as you waited silently for his assessment. "Someone's moving around, don't hear any talking."

"Set up a camera so we know when they leave?" You pulled a small device out of your bag, tossing it to Bucky. "There was a plant on the table outside."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he was out the door and back in under 30 seconds.

"Wait!" You whispered urgently. "Slam it shut."

Bucky complied with your request, with a confused frown. His eyes went from narrowed to goggle-like as you moaned loudly.

"Ohhhh James!"

Bucky gave you a horrified look before mouthing at you across the room. "What’re you doing?"

"James, I want you!" You delivered your line with as much lust as you could muster. Smirking at him, you dropped your voice. "Giving them the show they're after."

"Oh God, you make me so wet. I love when you push me up against the wall."

You motioned wildly at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and threw himself against the wall of the neighboring room for effect.

"I've been waiting for this all day. I want you so bad. Here, feel!"

Bucky closed his eyes, a deep flush darkening his face as you looked at him expectantly.

"God, you're so wet, baby." Bucky's voice was husky. And for a moment you wondered how he sounded in bed.

Focus! You told yourself.

"Only for you, baby. I can't get enough of you touching me. I want your fingers inside me." You continued, pressing your face against the wall.  "I can't wait until I get to rip these pants off of you."

"What do you want me to do to you?" Bucky eventually found words to contribute, having turned away from you.

You loudly moaned a few more times for effect. "Come on Mr Road, my badass arms dealer husband, you can do better than that!" you goaded him in a whisper.

"Are you serious?" he muttered.

"Tell me how much you want me," you cried.

Bucky thought for a moment, before choking out. "I want you so much, baby. I want to feel myself inside you and I want to fuck you so hard. Now get on the bed." Not once as he spoke did he make direct eye contact with you. 

Was it wrong that his words had your cunt clenching uncontrollably? You fanned your face before you noticed Bucky pointing at the bed. Oh right! You flung yourself on the luxurious mattress, making sure that it rocked against the wall. "Please James, I want you inside me." Your voice was suddenly breathless.

Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed, tugging at the crotch in his pants. They seemed to be tighter than they were before. He used his legs to rock the bed.

"Fuck me, James, fuck me harder." You crawled up to the headboard rattling it enthusiastically. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Bucky moaned. It was a good thing he was facing away from you, he thought as he pressed his palm over his growing erection.

"That feels so good, B-James. Oh my god, I'm gonna come." You squeezed your legs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs. Bucky’s name had almost slipped past your lips, and you hoped he hadn't noticed.

"I'm going to make you come so hard." 

"JAMES! OH YES!" you screamed.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

[wosoxwriterrr]

awfc x teen reader

request: Travelling on the team bus to Manchester, R starts to feel really ill and the team take care of her.

a/n- i’m aware my fics are pretty short atm but bare with me :) requests are open!!

485 words———

Travel sickness was your worst nightmare, comes at the most inconvenient times ever! Today travelling up to Manchester you knew it would be bad. “You okay kid?” Kim asks as you sit on the coach next to Kyra, eyes closed and headphones on. “Not feeling too good” you’re able to whisper back before a wave of nausea hit you. Before you are able to warn anyone, your lunch was splattered all over the table as tears start streaming down your face, a mixture of embarrassment and sickness. The bus stopped at the next service stop and you were escorted off the bus by a comforting Stina. “Oh sweetheart it’s okay don’t cry” she says while you’re sobbing into your puke covered arsenal hoodie. The bus was cleaned up while you and Stina were in the petrol station bathroom getting cleaned up. The bus was then stocked up with a few emesis bags just incase. After you get all cleaned up you walk back onto the bus quietly, embarrassment taking over you. The embarrassment was quickly wiped from you as all the girls assured you that it’s okay and it happens to the best of us. The bus got back on the road, now sat with Kim, Leah, and Steph as they all wanted to make sure you were looked after. After a good 2 hours of playing uno and looking at photos of Calvin, you started feeling sick again but luckily were able to warn people. “Gonna puke” Kim hurriedly grabbed an emesis bag from her backpack parked at her feet and shoved it into your hands just in time for you to lose the contents of your stomach. Nobody said a word hoping to make the situation a lot less embarrassing for you which you were thankful for. The bag was disposed of and the game of uno was resumed. As the team bus arrived in Manchester ahead of kick off you started to feel that uneasy feeling in your stomach and you knew that you were about to puke. Not wanting to puke in the aisle of the seats you quickly rushed off the bus and swiftly lurched forward in order to empty your stomach. Gasps and shrieks were heard coming from the massive crowd of fans waiting on the teams arrivals which made you want to curl up in a hole and die. Leah was at your side so fast trying to escort you swiftly into the changing room so you can get away from the fans. “Oh kid i don’t think you should be playing today, you’re not going to have any energy on the field” Kim says with a sympathetic look on her face. “Yeah, don’t feel good” you said in a whispered tone not being able to muster up the energy to speak. It’s safe to say you didn’t play against city and slept the whole bus journey home.

(pretend you are katie) 🤍

kyracooneyx- liked by leahwilliamsonn and 57,970 others

stinablackstenius- got the kid to sleep

^ kyracooneyx- better pay me for babysitting

user1- did anyone see y/n when she got off the bus? gross 🤮

kimlittle1990- poor kid

leahwilliamsonn- never knew someone could be so sick and still beat everyone at uno 🙄

^ yourusername- you’re just jealous 😒

user2- nice photo 😍😍😍😍😍😍

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso community #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #teen reader #arsenal #arsenal women

[micaluvssoccer]

Girl next door: Nika Mühi story

Chapter six

Micaellas POV

they both say good night and they walk out and I watch them leave not realizing a tear falling. Ice walks over and she comforts me. I say I have enough room in my bed for four people and my couch has room for 9 yall are welcome to stay if you’d like to. They all say yay and they start arguing over who's gonna sleep where. I say or I can set up some sleeping bags as well. The girls say that’s probably better momma we want to be near you instead of on the couch and I say okay babies and then I grab the sleeping bags and I say so whoever sleeps with me in my bed just to let y’all know that I sleep with no shorts on because I get really hot when I sleep.

They all say okay and we dont mind and I get their sleeping arrangements done and I say shouldn’t you girls go get some clothes my clothes would be too big. They all say oh yeah we will be right back mama. I smile and say okay girls and then I start to get ready for bed and I put on a tank top and I take off my shorts and I get in the bed. I then hear the girls run back into the house and I softly laugh and I look up seeing them and ice runs straight for me and I open my arms. She jumps into my arms and she snuggles into me. I gently kiss her head and I rub her back and I say why were you glaring at Nika earlier. Ice says she was on her phone and she was making you sad. I say I know princess but maybe it was just a misunderstanding and kk says or maybe her and Paige are dating because usually Azzi would go with them for a sleepover.

I looked at Azzi and I said, "Is that true sweetheart, do you usually sleepover with them.

She sadly nods her head at me and I say oh and then I say well um let’s go to bed now. She climbs into bed next to me and I hold onto ice and azzi and I say well i guess we all will know tomorrow. They both just nod their heads. I fall asleep holding onto them and I feel kk and Ines come in the bed too. We all fall asleep and i wake up the next morning to all the kids in the bed with me. I giggled and I get out of bed and I do my morning routine and I then shut my bedroom door and I walk to the kitchen and I make breakfast. I hear a quiet knock on my front door while i make breakfast. I say it’s open and I continue to make breakfast.

Nika walks inside very slowly and she holds flowers. I continue to cook a huge breakfast platter and I say hi. She says hi and these are for you. I look back and say you can put them in the vase on the kitchen table. She sadly says okay and I say I appreciate the flowers thank you. Nika says you're welcome and I see paige behind her and holding her and then I see a leftover bag in Paige’s hands and I say oh where did you two go. She says oh we went out for breakfast. I nodded and starts to completely close off while I cook breakfast. The kids all walk in and they glare at nika and paige. I sighed and said Ines can you set the table for me please. She says yes mama and I feel her kiss my head and I softly smile and then I finish cooking. Nika and Paige look at each other all confused. Azzi looks over at them and scoffed and said what are they doing here.

Ice looks over at her and says your guess is as good as mine . I say Nika bought me flowers i don’t know why though. Ice scoffs and says why are you sending her flowers when you were making out with Paige last night. Paige says let's go, we aren't wanted here. I look down at the food and I say wait is this true Nika you’ve been flirting with me ever since I got here. She just sadly nods and I say take your flowers and go, give them to Paige. She sadly takes them and they walk out the door. I take deep breaths and I start to plate the food. Ice walks over and she cuddles with me. I look at her and say when did you girls see them make out or did you hear it.

they say a few days ago we saw it and i nodded and said wow so both of them were leading me on basically. Ice says they both might like you mama. I say wait what that’s crazy. Azza says yeah i agree with ice. I say then why were you all glaring at them then. They say because they made you upset and sad. I knocked on the wall and say come back. They both walk back in all sad looking. I say do you both like me if so why didn’t you say that. They both say we didn’t know if you like us both. I look at them both and I kiss them on the nose and I say you could have asked. They both smile and say we know that now. I shake my head and says go get the flowers now and ask me correctly. Nika says okay and they both run out the door to get the flowers. I serve my kids their food and drinks and I get my food too. They both come back in with the flowers and they both get down on one knee to ask me to be their girlfriend. I blush and say get up and come kiss me. They both stand up and they both deeply kiss me and I kiss them back and pull them both into me.

They both smile into the kiss and the kids say ewww. I blush and say go seat down on the couch i need to eat something. Paige sits down next to me and nika pulls me up and she sits down in my seat and then she sits me down on her lap. I blush and starts to eat my food and I say don’t blame the kids they were being protective. They say oh we don't and I say good because those are my babies and ice says yeah momma

#nika muhl x reader #nika mühl #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #ice brady #ice brady x reader #nika muhl #wcbb x reader #woso x reader

[vampyrsm]

‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | HOMUSUBI

‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale continues deep in a village that's rife with cursed spirits, a Lord that cares not for his people and a battle of the tongue and wits. And in the dead of night, something comes prowling.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 10k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, violence, blood, cannibalism references, dead bodies, murder, cursed spirits, death, suggestive.

“I thought you didn’t care for the titles these mortal men brandish themselves with.” Kenjaku comments to your side, her eyes are sharp as always and the smile she levels you with is cruel—but not towards you, you’d be willing to say that perhaps Kenjaku had started to take a shine to you after your display in the throne room. 

“I don’t.” You admit, adjusting the kimono on your body before turning to glance at the woman next to you. “I cared for it once. But now, I see it as a weapon. The people—they’re scared of Sukuna, and the rest of us. If we’re to be in a place of power, even without approval…” 

“You’d win back control from the Emperor, disarming him effectively.” Kenjaku finishes for you, a look in her eye you can’t quite distinguish as she curls a perfect finger against her chin for a moment. 

“Exactly. If we can amass enough, we can push back—we can dethrone him, and then Japan is ours.”

“Ours?” Kenjaku smiles then, the crow's feet at her eyes displaying an age that’s unfitting for the youthfulness of her skin. “You wish to share Japan with me as well?”

“I don’t see why not. You’ve helped me, albeit in a questionable manner…” You trail off, much to the amusement of Kenjaku as she offers you a very rare laugh; one that sounds genuine for once. “Besides, your strength can’t be ignored. I won’t ignore it.”

Kenjaku quietens at that, her eyes once again shifted to look down the path leading to the burnt-out village before her eyes close in half-moons, and her smile grows when her head bows in gratitude. “I thank you for being so open-minded. Not many would offer such a bountiful reward to someone like me.”

You can only bow your head in return, a small smile of your own making its way onto your face. It was odd, the relationship that had formed between yourself and Kenjaku. You would’ve never seen it coming, not with how you first interacted with her and the following times after that. You had assumed she wanted you dead, or better yet, displayed as a pet to be poked and prodded when she felt like it. 

But something shifted, something clicked into place following your return. Perhaps it was the fact she had heard of the things you endured, had seen the after-effects of it upon your arrival back at the temple. And then, without a doubt, you had sealed your newly formed friendship with the black-haired woman when you slit the throat of Yorozu. 

You smile fondly at that. The meal had been exquisite. 

“Master Sukuna will be here soon.” Uraume seems to appear from nowhere at your other side, the mostly silent monk regards you for a quick second before that steely gaze is shifted to Kenjaku—who is no doubt grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Uraume. 

“I know.” You reply, effectively dragging Uraume’s gaze back to you… and you almost think you see an embarrassed tint on their face at the admission that you know exactly where Sukuna is. After all, you’re bonded to him. “But thank you, Uraume.” 

Uraume remains silent, bowing their head before taking a step away to return back to the temple. 

“Uraume won’t be joining us?” Kenjaku comments, looking over her shoulder to watch as Uraume shoves the large doors closed. 

“No. Sukuna wanted them to stay here, just in case.” 

Kenjaku hums a noise of understanding, tucking her hands into the long sleeves of her kimono to fight off the cold. 

“How has Masato been?” Your question has Kenjaku visibly perking up, a fox-like gleam in her eye.

“Oh, wonderful. Masato is an… interesting curse, to say the least. She’s been learning quickly.” Kenjaku’s lips upturn quickly into a sly smirk. “She made quick work of a village not too far from here. Her cursed technique is something to behold.” 

“She already figured it out?” You shouldn’t sound so surprised. You knew from research in Sukuna’s private library that cursed spirits were known to adapt much more quickly than humans, both in healing and their power. They grew stronger every second they were ‘alive’.

“Oh, yes. I think with time she’ll blossom into quite the formidable cursed spirit.” 

“I see.” You mull over what Kenjaku had told you. You hadn’t seen Masato in over a week at this point, Kenjaku had kept her busy—killing people, apparently, in an effort to discover the spirits technique. There’s an odd sensation that settles in your chest, something like pride you realise when it warms your heart. It’s odd, strange even, that you feel pride for the development of a cursed spirit. 

One you had created.

You still hadn’t revealed to anyone that little detail, it seemed insignificant at this point. Sukuna wouldn’t have anything to say about it, perhaps an off-handed comment about how maybe Masato would actually be a worthwhile curse to keep around. Kenjaku would no doubt be intrigued by it, her morbid fascination with the curse was already something to be concerned about. 

“Have you made the preparations?” It’s Sukuna’s voice that has you snapping out of your thoughts, turning immediately to face the man in question. He’s dressed, which should be a normal occurrence for most men but it was odd for Sukuna. He’s draped in a thick kimono and a haori atop of that, it hides his arms well enough, two of them are crossed beneath the material whilst the others are at his sides. 

“Of course.” Kenjaku bows her head slightly when Sukuna glances at her. “We were waiting for you.”

Naturally, Sukuna finds himself at your side. His warmth is all-encompassing even through the multitude of layers he draped himself in, and it only seeps further through your own clothing when he lays a hand against the middle of your back in silent greeting. He only holds a small smirk when you lean into his hand, eyes still set on Kenjaku. 

“Preparations?” You question, drawing Sukuna’s attention down to you entirely. 

“Kenjaku never informed you on what her cursed technique is?” His grin grows at your clueless expression, an expression fit for a cat who got the cream. “Instantaneous movement.”

The reveal has you turning abruptly to face Kenjaku, who now takes the crown for the most smug person in the vicinity. Her eyes are practically glowing with mirth at the fact you didn’t quite pick up on her cursed technique yet, her lips curled into a feline smile.

“Truly?”

“Of course. It’s not quite as flashy as Sugawara—but it does the same, in the end.” Kenjaku bows her head slightly, that smile on her face growing cold at the mention of Sugawara. Even in his exile, he still bothered the woman.

“Kenjaku will be the one taking us all to Takayama.” Sukuna comments whilst looping a hand around your waist and shoving you into his front, his arms securing you in place. It almost has a bubble of panic popping in your stomach, instantaneous movement—it shouldn’t even be a thing humans could do. It was rare, nigh impossible. It’d been documented that many could move fast, but it was never on a level where it was considered instant. 

“Shall we?” Kenjaku asks with a tilt of her head, adjusting the sleeves of her silk kimono to reveal the slender pale arms beneath. Her eyes drift from you and up to Sukuna, awaiting his permission. It comes in the form of a nod, and the hands wrapped around you grip tightly onto the material of your kimono—grounding you, tethering him to you. Just in case.

Kenjaku brings her hands up in front of her, the tips of her fingers brushing together delicately before her palms came together in what would look like a regular prayer—you can feel the shift in the air, the untethering of her cursed energy and how it warps suddenly around you. Then, with an abrupt twist of her hands, you feel nothing but immense pressure.

It clamps at your lungs and squeezes at your very bones until they threaten to shatter and turn into dust. Instinctively you lean further into Sukuna, who for the most part seems unaffected by the intense change in pressure. You watch the world shift and blur, the snowy white mountain tops spread upwards as if they were painted on parchment paper only to be ruined by water. 

As quickly as it started, it’s over. You find yourself in the middle of a path surrounded by tall Gingko trees, their leaves a vibrant green which means they would turn into a beautiful gold in the Autumn—a sight you often loved as a child. The air is no longer bitter, instead, you’re bathed in the welcoming warmth of an early spring. Sukuna remains to your side, his grip loosening on you as he takes in a deep breath of the country air.

There’s no doubt that you were somewhere south, somewhere warmer and somewhere more… populated. Instinctively, your nose scrunches.

“It stinks.” You comment absentmindedly, pressing the sleeve of your kimono to your nose. The action is enough to draw a laugh from Sukuna, a deep chuckle that he only ever awarded you with. You take the chance to glance down along the path, the village just a mere hundred steps away and you can spy the bustling steps of villagers just beyond. 

“Hida has always been under the rule of some uncaring Lord.” Kenjaku comments, a grim smile on her otherwise unwrinkled face. “He does not care for his people, as they are mostly non-sorcerers.”

Non-sorcerers, regular humans, forced to live in squalor because their Lord saw them as lesser than. The revelation doesn’t surprise you, not with what you have learned about the people who control the country in the past few months. But it does anger you, it angers you that the Lord of the Hida province thinks himself above non-sorcerers.

“I see.” 

Kenjaku offers you a glance before she proceeds to walk towards the village, placing herself before both you and Sukuna as a sign that she is your official retainer. Immediately, you begin to follow after her once Sukuna has begun to stride forward. His arms remained hidden beneath his kimono, and you find it odd. You knew Sukuna had his hand in the politics of the world but you didn’t see him as someone who would listen to them; without a doubt, you knew he was hiding his secondary arms so he wouldn’t cause an uproar in the village.

“Stare any longer and I’m going to assume you’re regretting your decision to join me.” 

“I didn’t have much of a decision.” You reply haughtily, earning you a sharp side glare from Sukuna. “In fact, you were the one who demanded I come with you.”

With a suck on his teeth, Sukuna returns his gaze forward before a smirk grows on his face. “Watch how you wag that tongue of yours in front of these aristocrats, they will pounce at the fact you’re so… untrained.”

His words draw a laugh out of you, earning a smile from Sukuna at the sound of it. You don’t offer your rebuttal however, you know Sukuna is right. You grew up around aristocrats of the highest calibre, people who aligned themselves with the Shogun — they were judgemental, uptight in their rules and beliefs. 

They’d rip you apart if they caught even a whiff of your unconventional relationship with Sukuna. 

Before you know it, the village was upon you as were the hundreds of eyes turned in your direction. It proves impossible to not bristle beneath the attention, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. You can feel their gazes tear you open, pry apart your bones and muscles to peer at the darkness that swells in your chest. 

But their gaze shifts quickly from you and to Sukuna, who seems completely unphased by the numerous whispers and wandering eyes. His eyes remain half-lidded, lips in a flat line and arms loose at his sides—utterly relaxed, and unthreatened. A King.

A sharp whistle catches your attention, turning your gaze forward to see a small group of samurai atop horses approaching. The flags of their Lord waving proudly with each bounding step of the horse beneath them. Again, you tense, an automatic response to the glint of their sheathed weapons and the hardened expression of warriors. 

Kenjaku draws you all to a standstill, her hands joined together beneath her kimono and you notice how she slips so easily into the role of a woman; demure and willing to bend under the heavy gaze of the Samurai once they’re within range. 

The head of the group drops from his horse, his heavy boots sinking into the muddy path before he begins to make his way over. Kenjaku bows automatically at the waist, raising again once the Samurai stops before you all. His eyes are dark, no doubt a well-seasoned warrior who had shed his fair share of blood in the name of his Lord. His eyes scan over Kenjaku, before quickly darting towards Sukuna—then you see fear; genuine human fear.

You could smell his cursed energy before he even arrived, but now in the presence of Sukuna, it spikes. Yet, Sukuna doesn’t mention the effect he has on the man before him, instead keeping his indifferent gaze directed forward. But then those dark eyes dart to you, and they remain locked onto you. That fear you had seen is quickly replaced with something much worse; contempt. 

“Lady Zen’in.” The Samurai greets with distaste, earning him the attention of Sukuna who finally drops his eyes down to the man. “They said you were dead.” 

“They were wrong.” You have to fight the urge to bare your teeth, instead offering a disarming smile that you were trained to offer men who served as Samurai. 

His gaze doesn’t shift from the contempt he holds for you, only shifting it towards Kenjaku who clears her throat to gain his attention once again. 

“I assume you’re here to escort my Lord and Lady to their temporary housing.” Kenjaku too morphs her voice into that of a woman trained in the arts of submission. “The Festival isn’t due to start until the evening, and we’d quite like to freshen up.”

The Samurai keeps his lips in a tight thin line, no doubt fighting the urge to refuse to allow you any further into the village he was ordered to protect from men like Sukuna. But he loses out to his fear, crumbling beneath the weight of it as he abruptly turns on his heel to march his way back towards his horse. The men who were with him exchange concerned looks with each other, no doubt they too were under the impression that you were long dead and Sukuna wasn’t actually going to show up to the village. 

With the Samurai situated back on the saddle of the horse, he spares one glance over his shoulder at your small group whilst manoeuvring his horse. “This way.”

You have no choice but to follow after the men on horseback, and it draws you back to when you were a child and paraded through the streets of your village by your father. The Shogun’s Daughter—a prized jewel, a rare gem that would no doubt produce heirs fit to take the mantle of Shogun one day. You remember the palanquin you were forced to sit in, cramped with nothing but slats to view the outside world.

You remember the faces of those who you’d pass by, all bowing their heads in respect. It filled you with an odd sense of unease as a child, placed on a pedestal so early on. But now, as you walk through the streets with Sukuna at your side… you feel a different emotion when the people you pass by drop to their knees out of fear. 

Their heads bowed, and fingers sinking into the mud. Their baskets of rice and other vegetables are scattered, forgotten—all because of you. It made the truth of your newfound strength sink in, to see people cowering in fear of disrespecting either yourself or Sukuna.

“Maggots.” Sukuna grunts, finally vocalising his distaste for the situation. It draws a few surrounding gasps, children hiding in the shadows at the deep rich timbre of his voice. “They squirm like maggots. It’s disgusting.”

You can’t find yourself capable of disagreeing—he’s right. They do squirm like maggots, nothing but insects that were destined to be crushed beneath the boot of someone stronger than them. 

Kenjaku doesn’t glance back, but you hear her snickering laugh hidden beneath the sleeve of her kimono. You cast your eyes away from Sukuna, opting to not reply to his observation and instead observe for yourself. Past the people of the village, you can see that there were curses everywhere. They clung to the backs of the elderly, they waited in the shadows where the children would seek refuge from the blaring sun. 

Their faces are elongated or shrunken, disfigured and distasteful. Your eyebrows draw together however, this number of curses felt unnatural. There were too many compared to the number of humans you could count, it was as if—

“They’re hoarding curses. Why?” You turn your attention back to Sukuna quickly, and his eyes finally meet your own. His own expression is one of suspicion; he notices too how odd it is. “What is the Lord doing with all these cursed spirits?”

Sukuna parts his lips to reply but Kenjaku whips her head around, strands of black hair sticking to her face and you almost want to jump out of your skin at the severe look on her face.

“Not here, wait until we’re in private.” She hisses before turning her attention forward in time to smile at the Samurai who turns back to glance at her.

Sukuna huffs, an amused sound that has you glancing up at him from the corner of your eye. “Her audacity is almost worse than your own. I see why she insisted on being your Kashin.” 

“Not yours?” You raise an eyebrow, you would have assumed by default that Sukuna would be the one represented by a house retainer. 

“Uraume usually does the job, Kenjaku only agreed to come with us if she could be by your side.” Sukuna explains flatly, his disinterest in his surroundings bleeding into his voice. 

You’re honestly surprised by the admission of Kenjaku wanting to be at your side—but mostly, you’re on edge. It sends your stomach into knots and your skin prickles with gooseflesh. Kenjaku was a one-woman army, she had no need nor desire to be at the side of anyone. So why you? What did she plan on achieving in the village by being your retainer?

You don’t doubt that Kenjaku can hear the conversation just behind her, yet she doesn’t turn around to confirm or deny the fact she wanted to be at your side for the entirety of the festival. Sukuna also doesn’t seem to notice the apprehension mounting within you, his face falling back into that of boredom once the conversation has ended. 

Kenjaku worries you. Even if you consider her somewhat of a friend, she was strong—powerful in the sense that you can feel your blood chill in her very presence. Something about her wasn’t quite right. 

“Here.” The Samurai mounted comments, bringing his small group to a stop to gesture towards a gated house. It’s larger than the others, higher up in the village and noticeably away from the villagers. You can’t sense a speck of cursed energy that would ooze from a cursed spirit. 

Your gaze darts across the tall wooden fence, high enough to even tower over Sukuna in height. The gates are suddenly pulled open, and two women with their heads immediately bowed and shuffled out of the way to allow entry. Sukuna pays them no mind as he passes by, even when they flinch at his proximity. But it’s Kenjaku who speaks up about their presence.

“We won’t be needing any servants.” Her words are directed up to the Samurai still seated in his saddle, a frown forming on his lips—he wanted these women to stay. “My Lord demands it.”

At that, the Samurai has a split second of anger on his face before it’s washed away. A tilt of his head has the two women scurrying out and away from the house, giving you the chance to enter and view the impressive garden—without the prying eyes of two women who would most likely be dead by the end of the night for failing their Lord’s task unintentionally. 

The Karesansui is beautiful. Sand neatly parted in delicate waves, curving around grand rocks and the large aged tree in the centre. It hangs its heavy branches over the pathway, and you have to push down the urge to grin at the sight of Sukuna ducking down with an arm batting away a branch. 

You take the time to walk along the large smooth-stone path, eyes grazing over the dry garden. You hadn’t seen one so beautifully made since you lived with your father. Your late husband didn’t care for such artistry, didn’t believe in the tranquillity such a beautiful garden could bring to one's soul. The reminder of your life before tastes bitter in the back of your throat, but it no longer makes your chest swell in agony.

Instead, you find yourself at peace with the fact you are in a different place in life now. Your mind had warped and changed forever, your body had endured trauma that would’ve killed any other woman—you were living a much better life now, untethered and unbound… and at the side of a man who empowered you.

That old pain that had once swelled in your chest is replaced with a foreign emotion; love. You feel love as you gaze at the back of Sukuna’s head, his body positioned just at the entrance of a house much too small to house him. He looked out of place and yet he looked like he owned the place. 

Sensing your gaze, Sukuna glances over his shoulder at you. His eyes are smouldering, always a look that could kill a man, yet it softens the second he meets your gaze—a minute change, but you see it regardless. And so, you smile for him. A smile you know that makes his own lips offer one in return, a smile you know that makes his skin warm and that softness in his eye doubles.

“Come, we should prepare for the evening.” Kenjaku speaks from your side, effectively drawing your attention away from Sukuna. Her own eyes are directed towards Sukuna before she turns them towards you, and that malice you had seen in her eyes all those months ago is nowhere to be seen. So you nod and allow her to lead you into the house.

...

It isn’t until a few hours later that you’re sitting on the edge of the engawa, looking out at the peaceful garden before you. You had since bathed, much to the chagrin of Sukuna who had wanted to originally join you—except, with it being an indoor bath, it was far too small for the both of you. You have to stifle the urge to snicker to yourself at the childish pout resting on the King of Curses' face.

“What’s amusing you now?” Sukuna grumbles from behind you, his feet heavy and loud on the tatami mats. Maybe you didn’t stifle that urge well enough. 

“Nothing,” you offer over your shoulder with a smile, and Sukuna observes you for a second before making his way over. He plants himself on the engawa next to you, legs crossed. His upper set of arms lean back to prop his body up, and the other set crosses loosely over his chest. 

He had changed his attire since arrival, and the lonesome bath he was forced to take. Instead of hiding his arms, he’s draped in a thick black haori over the bareness of his chest with a loose pair of white hakama pants around his waist. You can’t deny that he looks quite beautiful in all his natural glory. You had changed too — only because Kenjaku had insisted on it. 

It was a statement piece, to say the least. How Kenjaku had got her hands on so much material you’ll never know. But after the two hours of stuffing you into them, you can’t deny that wearing a Jūnihitoe made you feel like royalty. In your years serving at your father's side, you had only witnessed it once on the back of the Empress. It was something that only the highest of the social ranks could wear; a statement of your wealth and social status. 

The colours you were draped in reflected the upcoming spring; whites, soft pinks, greens, reds and lilacs—all rather contrasting and yet it worked. Kenjaku had mentioned that there were a total of ten layers, all of which were fanned out around you in a delicate display.

You can feel Sukuna glancing at you, how his eyes drag along the various layers of clothing and taking in each colour. 

“This is how I imagined you to look when I caught wind of your existence.” He breaks the silence, and you turn to glance at him. His eyes are resting on the necklace buried beneath just a few layers—it was a surprise gift from Kenjaku, she had pulled it from a box and presented it to you. It was a unique gift; for it was Yorozu’s teeth all strung together.

“Draped in silk and waiting on my knees for my husband?” That draws an amused noise from Sukuna, his body shifting until a hand is reaching up to stroke the silk between two fingers. 

“No. Regal. I thought the Shogun’s daughter would be a princess.” He continues on his path of stroking the material of one of the outer uwagi. “Instead, she was a sword-wielding neophyte Samurai.”

Your distaste for his words must show on your face because immediately he laughs, the hand skirting across your clothing comes up to cup your cheek before you can turn away. His amusement only grows when you try to jerk your head out of his hand. 

“So sensitive. Do you worry about the festival?” 

Were you worried about the festival?... Perhaps. It wasn’t the same anxiety you had as a young girl when you were made to attend similar events, instead, there’s something that pools at the pit of your stomach in anticipation. Something about the entire village felt off from the moment you got there—the number of cursed spirits that roamed freely, attached to all the non-sorcerers who couldn’t even see them…

It made you anxious; flighty. 

“No. I don’t like the village.” You turn away when Sukuna drops his hand from your face at your words. “Something is waiting in the shadows, I can feel it.”

“A threat?” Sukuna prods, but the tone of his voice indicates enough to you that this ‘threat’ is nonexistent in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Something isn’t right, Sukuna.” You turn to face him once again, and it’s almost startling how stony his face looks—but he’s easy to read, you can tell he’s thinking more about your words, considering if there truly was a threat to either you or himself. 

“The Lord wouldn’t dare to make a move with the both of us here, and he’s unaware of Kenjaku. They’d be making a grave mistake to strike out against any of us after offering us an invitation.” Sukuna attempts to soothe your mind, but it doesn’t work as he intended. Instead, it only serves to rile up your anxiety further. 

“Or that would be the best time to do it. Outside of our home, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by his men—and all those curses. Does he control them?” Your words tumble from your lips before you can reign them in, you’ve never felt this unnerved—not even at the revelation of your father never truly dying. 

A hand comes to the back of your neck, sharpened nails digging into your flesh enough to jerk you out of the circle of thoughts racing around your head. Sukuna moves you closer, close enough that you can smell the lavender on his skin and feel the warmth of his breath. He holds you close enough to press his forehead to your own; something you’ve come to realise is his way of ‘connecting’ with you. 

“Enough, woman. You’re going to work yourself up into hysterics. The Lord may be a fool but he’s not a suicidal maniac, he knows he will lose if he tests us.” His words, whilst harsh in reality, are softly spoken. Whispered against your face until you’re forced to take a breath, to breathe in his words and let them settle against that pit of dread in your chest. 

“—Fine.” You sigh back, shoulders sagging and Sukuna takes advantage of your moment of docility by drawing you in closer. One of his arms remains propped up behind you as a support, and the other drags you closer by the shoulders until you’re sitting side-by-side. “But at the first sign of his foolishness. The village burns.” 

You can practically feel Sukuna’s chest puff with pride with the breath he draws in, no doubt if you were to look up you’d see quite the smug grin on his face. “As you wish.”

It’s silent for a beat, just the sound of the distant village. Sukuna seems unbothered when you lean more of your weight onto him, allowing your neck a moment of rest against his shoulder. If you close your eyes and focus just enough, you’ll be able to pick apart your surroundings and pinpoint Kenjaku. She hadn’t left the estate but she was somewhere deep in the house, her cursed energy muted. 

“What are we to do at the festival? My father always made me sit behind a partition whenever he attended.” You almost scowl at the thought of that ridiculous green misu you had been forced to sit behind for the entirety of the festival, forbidden from speaking a word to even your own servant.

Sukuna grunts disapprovingly at the mention of your father. “You won’t be sitting behind a screen this time, you’ll be at my side. We sit, we eat and we receive their gifts. Our presence is the blessing they seek.” 

The thought of eating and being waited on just for the sake of it is very appealing—perhaps that’s the real reason why Sukuna had accepted the invite, not because he wanted you to make a message but because he wanted to be waited on hand and foot. 

“I’m surprised you agreed to eat anything non-human.”

“Who said it won’t be?” Sukuna retorts easily enough, earning him a quick turn of your head to gauge if he’s serious or not. Instead, he laughs. “I’m joking. They declined that part of the offer.” 

“You seriously asked?” and again, he laughs. 

“Sometimes they’re so desperate for me to not attack that they offer me women to eat. It’ll be the prettiest they can offer, as if beauty could stop me from eating.” He shrugs with his words, a smile on his face. 

Surprisingly, you’re not shocked by his words. In fact, you’re inclined to believe them entirely. Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with, no one had defeated him yet and likely no one ever will—sorcerers, Lords and civilians would do anything to make sure he didn’t come to their village looking for an excuse to burn it down to the ground. Maybe you would’ve been one of those women if you weren’t shackled to a man who had no interest in you besides your womb.

There are soft footsteps just behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to see Kenjaku entering the room. Her own clothes have changed, a completely black kimono that cinches tightly at her waist—her long hair has been cropped at the front by her ears, and the rest flows loosely down her back only to be tied midway down. She looked like a true beauty. 

“It’s time.” She smiles down at you, offering a hand for you to take. Her skin is cold beneath yours, like touching a corpse that had been left out in the dead of winter. She shows no struggle with helping you stand, as you gather your many layers and fan them out behind you. 

Sukuna huffs as he too stands to his full height, his shoulders rolling just slightly to ensure that his haori didn’t slip free from his shoulders. He steps out into the garden, the stones crunching beneath his bare feet before he turns to look at you—even with him being on a lower level, he still looks down at you. He offers you his hand in turn, non-discreetly glancing towards Kenjaku to force her to drop your hand and give you over to him—she does.

His hand in comparison is warm, a warmth you’ve come to seek in the cold nights and a warmth you seek even when bathed in the hottest waters. He draws you in effortlessly, aiding you from the step and down onto the pebbled floor. It’s almost impossible to ignore the way he looks at you, so different from the previous times. He’d often look at you with pride, or hunger, but mostly desire. 

But this look in his eye. Dare you say it to be contented? A man who gazes upon the woman who just so happens to be the centre of his universe.

“Come, let us feast—” His lips shift into a knowing smirk, “—on whatever sorry animal they feed us tonight.”

...

The air is thick with several different spices, the meat they’re slathered on continues to sizzle above one of the open fires not too far from where you had been made to sit next to Sukuna. It was a raised platform, a dais that put you above the rest of the crowd. You could feel their eyes on you, feel the way they picked you apart for being the one who sat close enough to Sukuna that he could lean into your space to whisper. 

All of them were working non-sorcerers, their hands scarred and faces still painted with the dirt from their working day. Kenjaku had been helpful enough to inform you on the way here that Takayama was a great working village, they brought in many precious metals and had an extensive forest. But even with all that, they were viewed as a ‘lesser than’ village—too far from the Emperor for him to care about their ability to bring in great resources, and cut off from other villages due to the mountains that surrounded Takayama.

“My Lord,” an elderly voice draws your attention away from the villagers, you glance down to the steps of the dais to see an old man and what you presume to be his wife—younger, but not by much. His eyes shift to you, and he bows again. “My Lady.” 

“What is it you’ve brought?” Kenjaku comments from the side, sitting on her own cushion that she had demanded from one of the Samurai—an amusing affair to have witnessed. Her mouth is hidden by the paper fan that covers the lower half of her face—a tradition that you find tedious. 

The elderly man shuffles a little to turn towards his wife, who is holding something wrapped in animal skin. Immediately your eyes are drawn to it, and Sukuna seems to show a minimal amount of interest when he shifts beside you to get a better view. The elder takes a step forward, careful to not step too close—he must’ve witnessed the death of that young man who attempted to climb the steps all the way.

“A gift for Lady Zen’in.” He bows his head, and you try not to focus too much on the fact they were well aware of your name. Perhaps that Samurai needed his tongue removed from his mouth—you’ll suggest it to Sukuna later. 

The man before you carefully unravels the animal skin the gift was wrapped in, careful to not lay his hands on whatever was inside before offering it up to you. You blink a few times, leaning forward to get a better look at the object presented to you.

It’s a fan. A war fan. 

Seeing your interest, the man continues. “It’s made up of the strongest metals of our village, and something that no other weapon in your arsenal will have.” 

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity, but it’s Sukuna who speaks. “How did you get your hands on dragon scales?”

Dragon scales—your eyes dart down quickly to the fan, you can see them now. Delicately melded into the metal of the fan, jagged along the edge—if you were to run that across someone’s throat, they would die almost instantly. But dragon scales? Dragons were things of myth, of stories. 

“A great white dragon lives within Mount Yake.” He points towards the large mountain range off in the distance, its white caps a stark contrast to the night sky. “It’s the reason why we suffer greatly from volcanic eruptions.” 

Sukuna shifts beside you, and you can see him now staring off at the mountain range. So you take the chance to open your hands to the man before you, who visibly flinches at the movement, but you keep your palms open towards him. The elderly man places the fan delicately in your hands, with the skin still beneath it. It’s heavier than it looks, with a nice weight to it that tells you it was authentically made—and perhaps that dragon scales must be weightier than one would imagine.

You bring it back to your lap, gliding your fingers along the smooth edge of the handle. It’s bumped and ridged in a delicate swirled pattern, the fan itself made up of pure white metal with the dragon scales melded in. You take it in your palm, and flick out your wrist as you were shown as a child. It fans out quickly, a shuttering sound that has Sukuna finally drawing his attention back to you.

With a way to now cover your own mouth, you bring the fan to your face and meet the eyes of the elderly man. “I thank you for the gift, it’ll be a great asset.” 

The elderly man bows quickly, his wife following in the gesture before taking a few steps back to remerge with the crowd. 

“I had no idea dragons were real.” You say once there’s certainly no one around to hear you, you keep the fan to your face to shield your mouth. 

“You never asked.” Sukuna shrugs, his hands otherwise occupied with a bottle of sake they had gifted him and slices of freshly caught fish. “But it’s rare that they could see it. Dragons are cursed spirits.”

“Perhaps he can see the curse that clings to his wife's back,” Kenjaku comments offhandedly, fanning her face delicately. “There’s too many of them here. It’s stifling.”

“I still don’t understand why the Lord is letting his village turn into this… breeding ground for cursed spirits.” You glance towards the village, each of them with their own curse that lingered close by—even ones that sat atop the roofs seemed to show an interest in the King of Curses, but didn’t dare take a step forward. 

“Control.” Sukuna comments after wiping his mouth free of the sake that wet his lips. “He thinks he has more control if his people are suffering, they’re less likely to fight back like this.”

That alone has your upper lip curling in annoyance, the fan coming closer to your face to avoid the wandering eyes of those who pass by. It was a confusing feeling that sat deep in your gut, you felt nothing for the villagers who offered you food—you could see their reluctance in handing over their hard work to someone they viewed as a monster. 

Yet the idea of one man trying to control the masses with their suffering, practically breeding these people with fear to create more and more curses until the inevitable happened. It was a surprise that anyone was still alive with just how many curses were crawling around, no doubt they had some base level of intelligence to know if they killed all the humans they’d be left with nothing.

“I don’t like it.” You mutter, eyes panning across the crowd once again and further down the long street that led up to where you and Sukuna had been stationed. 

“It doesn’t matter if you like it or not, it’s none of your concern.” Sukuna gripes, shoving another slice of sashimi into his mouth with the chopsticks in one hand. You don’t miss the sideways glance from Kenjaku before she returns to the tea in front of her. 

“It is if I’m to become Shogun.” You all but hiss and it’s Sukuna’s turn to side glance towards you, his eyes narrowing just slightly at the tone you took with him. Even after the months of being bonded to you, there was still some chafing that came with the power struggle between the two of you.

“Shogun?” A voice questions from the steps below, and it causes your spine to straighten immediately. It has your eyes darting to the numerous samurai stationed around, all of whom definitely heard the villager before you. It’s a younger man, not old enough to be stuck in the rice fields and without the traditional haircut given to those who are samurai. 

You try not to notice the smirk growing on Sukuna’s face before he settles back on two of his hands, displaying his entire bare chest. He had been more open to showing himself off when he had settled down, a subtle display of power that he was above everyone else here. Including the Samurai and their Lord who no doubt would be getting reports of what was about to be said. 

Carefully, you stand up and fan out the many layers of your kimonos behind you. It’s an instantaneous effect, all eyes are on you. You drop the fan from your face, and the whispers are silenced. They wait to see what you’re about to say, be it a sentence for their death or the announcement of your departure—the looks on their faces beg for the latter.

“Whilst it was something I would’ve liked to announce to your Lord first, it’s true.” Your heart hammers in your chest, even with the comfort of the man behind you, you can sense the unease growing rapidly. “The Emperor is a man who can no longer be trusted. He sentenced you all to death.” 

“The Lord you bow to works for the Emperor, on a council where they’ve decided to kill you all for existing.” You continue when the whispers grow louder, the cursed spirits that stick to their backs growing agitated with the uptick in fear. “I’ll put an end to that.”

“By opening your legs as you did for that dem—” The murmurs are silenced immediately. Your hand remains out at your side, fingers pointed in the direction of the man who had opened his mouth. There’s a thump of knees to the floor, and then the rolling of a head. 

Sukuna chuffs out a laugh, leaning forward once again in interest at the sudden turn of events. You can feel the turning of his cursed energy, how it spikes subtly as if he’s ready to pounce if someone else dared to raise a hand—or voice—in your direction.

“Does anyone else have anything to say?” You glance across the crowd, all of whom have immediately turned their gaze back towards you with a new look of fear. Non-sorcerers, all of them, and you beheaded a man without drawing a sword. Their silence continues to ring out, the cursed spirits too now look at you with renewed interest; a hunger. 

When no one dares to speak another word, you return to your seat next to Sukuna who had turned his mirth-filled eyes back to you. The crowd seems to slowly disperse, no longer wanting to risk their heads. As for the cursed spirits, you notice they too seem to leave a wide berth after the display of the cursed energy that slumbered within. 

“You scared them.” Kenjaku comments, but you can hear the smile on her face and her eyes curve upwards when she offers you a look over the top of her fan. “But I’m sure word has already gotten back to the Lord, he won’t be happy.” 

“I’ve never cared for the happiness of men. Let him rot in his anger.” Your attention is drawn downwards to the large hand that had opened itself before you. Sukuna holds out a delicate cup that had no doubt been imported from China with the way it was decorated. 

“Drink with me.” He doesn’t offer but rather demands it of you. Not that you’d deny him. You take the cup from his hand, so much larger in your own hand and the sake within is warm. “I think I’ve been too much of an influence on you.” 

You glance at him over the rim of your cup, not overlooking the way his eyes drift down to your mouth to watch you lick away the remnants of the sake. “Oh?”

“You didn’t even give that man a chance to speak.” He grins, head tilting as he watches you—his pink hair flopping over slightly, dishevelled after a long day.

“He didn’t deserve his tongue.” You smile back before taking another sip, savouring the warmth that settles in your gut.

Sukuna adjusts the way he lounges next to you, one leg stretching outwards whilst the other remains bent at the knee to let one arm hang over it. A hand plants itself on the dais behind you, forcing him into your space until you can feel his very warmth radiating against your cheeks. You can smell him; a musk that is normally tinted with copper from the blood of his unfortunate victims, but today it’s cleaner. No doubt from the bath he had been forced to take alone on arrival.

With a flourish of the fan in one hand, you lean closer whilst shielding your face. Sukuna smiles down at you, a smile softened with the warm sake sitting in his stomach. His lips are just a few measly centimetres away from your own, his breath smells sweet—like a freshly sliced apple. There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone around you is very aware of what was happening behind the fan, with Sukuna forcing himself to hunch down to your height whilst sitting. 

“You’re formidable.” He whispers with a tilt of his head, his nose bumps yours softly. “They fear you. I can smell it.” 

Your lips part when his do, breathing in his words; his influence. It’s intoxicating to have a man of his status, his sheer brilliance in power, praise you—to deem you formidable. 

“Good. It’s better to be feared than to be loved.” Your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, the muscle jumps at the contact before you feel the weight of his head leaning against your open palm. “Love has no worth in a world like ours.”

Sukuna looks down at you along the thick ridge of his nose, eyes nearly closed with how narrow his field of vision becomes this close to you. He’s scrutinising you, you can feel it. That look in his eye is something you’ve seen time and time again, he’s trying to read you—figure you out entirely. But then he smirks, a curling of his lips before he leans in. 

His lips aren’t gentle against your own, they never are. Instead, he kisses you like he still wishes to defeat you. Even with it only being a fleeting kiss, it still leaves you kiss-bruised and wanting more. Sukuna leans back just enough to look down at you again, that look in his eye has shifted from scrutiny to desire. It has your gut twisting with butterflies.

“Come, I’m done with the stench that clings to this place.” He speaks quietly enough for just you to hear, you smile up at him again before offering him a lingering kiss. One that he tries to chase shamelessly, which in turn has you grinning at each other. “Don’t tease me too much woman, I will make you regret it.”

“One can only hope.”

“If you’re both leaving, I’ll stay for a while,” Kenjaku comments from her place, earning a glance over Sukuna’s shoulder from you both. “I have plans too."

Something about the tone she takes makes your stomach sour, the food you had eaten turned to stone. She sounds mischievous, a predator who would be going on the prowl amongst defenceless prey. But you can’t deny her what she wishes to do—you knew she was of the same ilk as Sukuna and in turn, you; she was just as cruel and evil. 

“Fine. Don’t return to the house.” Sukuna commands, standing up whilst aiding you up from the floor next to him. He’s careful with how he helps you pick up the layers of the kimono to allow you to slip back on the wooden geta you had removed to give your feet some relief. 

Sukuna doesn’t take his arm back once you’re standing next to him, instead, he guides you down the few steps and down along the path that leads back to the house you had been given as a place to stay. His stance is relaxed, despite the many eyes that wander. You stroke your fingers delicately along the inside of his wrist, earning you his attention. 

“I heard there were hot springs on the outskirts.” You smile with your words, the glint of desire seems to spark the inferno inside of Sukuna because he grins in return. The muscles in his arms flex subtly under your touch, nostrils flaring momentarily to try and steel himself whilst in the public eye.

“And who am I to deny you a chance to bathe in the spring like the dove you are.”

...

A mountain haloed by the light of the moon, the white caps glimmering in the distance with stars hanging high and not a single trace of a cloud. It was a sight Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto would be proud of. Trees of brilliant green and yellow blend together in the shadow of darkness, birds of light settling for the night. 

It has your body relaxing against the stone lip of the hotspring, arms crossed over the edge to support your chin as you look out into the endless abyss. Your muscles ache deliciously at this angle, your legs relishing the relief that came from the hotspring. Sukuna had kept true to his word to allow you to bathe, after he ravished you in the very waters you’re still in. 

The man himself is lounging next to you, two of his arms hooked over the edge whilst his head tilts back against the stone to rest his eyes. It was one of the very rare times where he was completely vulnerable, a sight that you’re sure many men would kill to see—just to ensure they had a chance to slit his throat and kill him for good. 

Your eyes draw lines across his body, admiring the sheen to his skin from where he had dunked himself in the water to clean himself. His hair hangs loose and curled very slightly at the tips, just barely hiding the pointed tips of his ears and the stretched lobes. He was truly beautiful, the pinnacle of godly creation. You swallow your thoughts, pushing them to the back of your mind as you glance back out to the horizon.

Mount Yake—that’s what the elderly man had said when he gifted you the dragon-scaled fan. You can see with the help of the moon hiding behind its snow-capped head that it was billowing thick clouds of black smoke. You had never seen a volcanic eruption before. Was lava as brilliant and bright as they said? Did it truly burn and eviscerate everything it touched? And what of the dragon that resided within, you yearned to see it.

“Do you truly believe a dragon lives in that mountain?” You ask quietly, just a whisper over the hum of the night. Sukuna shifts beside you, water sloshing before you can feel his burning gaze on you. 

“I do.” He admits plainly. “It’s not uncommon for cursed spirits to form from the fear of something—I imagine that the dragon is the fear of volcanic eruptions.”

You nod at the informative answer, you had a feeling that may have been the case with Masato—the fear of people, of humanity when you were at your lowest. Thinking of where that cursed spirit may be currently has your stomach twisting, no doubt she would have created chaos wherever she may be. 

Trees groan in the wind, leaves whispering their secrets to one another when a breeze rolls on by. The water swishes beside you again when Sukuna moves his arms beneath the water, the waves lapping against the bare skin of your back. You feel at peace here, tranquil—it was like being at home again, in the hotspring with the man you had tied your soul to.

“Do you know how to create Kanshi?” Sukuna turns his head to glance at you this time when he speaks, and you can only return his curious look with a smile. 

“Poetry? Of course. It was a requirement of the Shogun’s daughter to be well versed in the art of poetry.” You smile when Sukuna rolls his eyes at what was required of you. It was one of the very first lessons when you had been given permission to do something outside of learning how to dress a man and wash his loincloth. “Would you like to hear one?”

Sukuna nods his head once and you smile down at him, moving your body slightly so you are facing him. Your hand cards delicately through his slow-drying hair, breaking apart the knots that had formed in the nighttime spring air. Sukuna succumbs to your soft movements easily enough, his upper set of eyes fluttering closed until you could only see a slither of red peeking from the lower ones.

You take the chance to glance around, observing all that you can hear and see.

“I listen to the whispers of trees, I catch a murmur of their secrets. Spring breeze is the same near and far, as it blows to my heart.” 

“Not bad.” Sukuna offers you with a cheeky grin, opening up his eyes fully to look at you. “I’ve always preferred them shorter. The Chinese version is too long.”

You hum in agreement, brushing your fingers slowly along the edge of his second face. The scars beneath were similar to the one along your neck; torn and shredded until it had to heal. “So did I but Lady Maiki disagreed. Apparently, a good wife showed her intelligence with longer sentences.”

Sukuna snorts loudly at that, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in a way that makes him look years younger. A hand moves up from beneath the water, long fingers wrapping around your wrist to pull you away from the scarring and to let his lips plant a far too delicate kiss to the tips of your fingers.

“I thought a woman would show her intelligence by opening her le—” Sukuna laughs loudly when you swipe with your free hand at the back of his head, knocking some of his wet hair out of place. “So violent. Did I strike a nerve?”

“An ancient pond, a toad jumps in, the splash of water.” You snicker when Sukuna’s face drops. 

“A toad? You’d compare me to a toad?” His upper lip curls, showcasing sharp canines and pink gum. He shifts in the water, dragging you by your entrapped wrist until you are smothered against his chest. An old part of you would’ve cowered at the action, at the look on his face but you can see him more clearly now; he’s playing along. 

“Am I wrong? As big as one, as lazy as one—”

“You have a very short amount of time left until I remove that tongue from your mouth for good.” He snarls, leaning down closer to your face until your eyes nearly cross at his proximity. But his mask of intimidation falls away when your unbound hand brushes along his jaw, tracing the black tattoo that resides there. 

“Your threats no longer have the same sharpened edge to them.” You coo, but before the smile on your face can form—he strikes. A hand wraps itself around your throat, fingers reaching up to grasp at the underside of your jaw in a tight squeeze. He moves you effortlessly, pressing you hard against the stone edge of the hotspring as he builds himself up to look bigger; stronger. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, your fingers automatically gripping tightly around his wrist in an attempt to free yourself. You hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not since your first few encounters with him. Sukuna had mastered the way of becoming the predator in any situation, a lion that had let the gazelle get too close to its sharp teeth. 

Except Sukuna smiles, a dark smile that you’ve seen on his face countless times before. “After battle’s end, lush green land is fertilised, by the blood of men.” He’s gloating about his apparent victory. 

You huff at that, pushing at his chest hard enough to earn you some space. He slips back down into the water next to you, all the whilst he chuckles deep in his chest. 

“It doesn’t work when you get the gender wrong.”

“I apologise for not being the Shogun’s princess and just an unwanted child.” He grins when you shoot him a glare in response. Sukuna settles back down into his previous position, arms relaxed over the edge and head tilted back so he could view the night sky above. It wouldn’t be long until you both would have to return to the house that had been claimed as your own.

A flicker above has your attention drawn to it instantly, head tilting to observe the flash of what looks like stars until it grows brighter and brighter—Sukuna next to you hums deep in his chest at the display above, enjoying it as much as yourself. The streak of light in the sky grows brighter until it outshines the others in the sky, until it breaks apart. 

The streak becomes two, two falling stars that race each other across the expanse of the inky sky until the smaller one vanishes from sight to leave the other to traverse the rest of the sky alone. It leaves a solemn weight on your chest as you watch the lone star vanish behind the peak of one of the mountains that surround you.

“Scales of a white dragon, twin falling stars from above, spring repulses winter.” 

“A fitting poem for our time here,” Sukuna speaks kindly, and you can only nod in agreement. He moves in the water suddenly, standing to his full height to allow the water to roll off the edges of his body in thick streams. You can only watch him with interest as he wades through the water to the edge where your clothes are folded neatly. “Come, let us rest.”

And you follow him, you always do.

...

Wooden floorboards creak underfoot, the house as silent as a shrine. A shadow freezes, waiting and listening, watching—before it moves again. The shoji door slides open, the moonlight leaking in to reveal the sleeping faces of the King and Queen of Curses.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

[realbylershit]

Alright so it’s safe to say that someone is shouting for Steve to run away from something and the first instinct is to be worried for Steve because he would definitely pull the sacrifice play if he had to…but personally I’m a little bit more worried about Robin (or both of them)..let me explain why.

We know Will is there, a source claimed that in fact ‘everyone’ is. But we also know that Millie isn’t, as a picture of her not being on set right now came up. So it’s safe to say that we most likely have a big portion of the cast around during the shoot and not the entire cast.

In the first recording it was pointed out that someone could have been yelling out Mike’s name instead of the first “Steve!” and whereas that’s personal interpretation I can definitely hear it. And I can also hear Will’s voice out of that. Makes sense, right? Will shouting Mike’s name? That would just mean that Mike is present, too. We knew that he and Will would be attached to the hip in season 5 thanks to the foreshadowing in season 4. And we confirmed that there is someone else that will at some point team up with both of them.

Dum dum dum, Robin.

I personally believe it’s only Will shouting but regardless of you believe it to be and who it actuallyis (Dustin or Jonathan perhaps), they’re telling Steve to run, which means that Steve most likely refuses to leave the battle field.

To point another thing out about the video, I also believe that we can hear Steve himself at the very beginning of the recording and he sounds kind of desperate, in my opinion. If I’m not completely crazy I’m pretty sure I can hear a “Let her go!”

So what I’m trying to say is, what if Vecna has Robin and Steve refuses to leave her side and that’s when himself is targeted, which we can hear in the second recording.

I can’t add the video but Maya Hawke has recently talked about Robin’s arc in season 5 and stated that she’s more involved in the supernatural stuff than ever and finding friends and looking for love.

I find it really hard to believe that they are going to kill off Steve, Dustin’s second father/big brother figure after doing it to Eddie in season 4. I’m pretty sure they introduced him so they didn’t have to kill Steve. Besides, Steve means a lot to most people in the group whereas Robin is probably the least connected person as she’s the newest, meaning that her death would hit everyone, but it wouldn’t break them like Steve’s death would- except for Steve himself.

It’s clear to me and probably most people that Will is going to suffer plenty next season and him making friends with Robin and then losing her to Vecna right away would definitely hit home. And because he already lost Robin, he doesn’t want to lose Steve too.

Just another small theory I wanna throw into the mix:

Will shouting for everyone to run reminds of him telling Joyce to run through the lights in season 1. Despite being in the upside down, he found a way to help Joyce by telling her to run. I’m thinking that in this scenario Vecna might have him trapped somehow, in a way that results him being cut off from the others in some way that they can’t hear him? As in basically torturing him because he can’t help his friends out, who possibly don’t see Vecna coming, and has to watch them die. That at least would explain even more why he’s the one yelling…

#byler #stranger things #will byers #st season 5 #st 5 theories #mike wheeler #steve harrington #robin buckley #byler tumblr #byler endgame

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

013. jittleyang | smau + written (1007 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Heeseung was so desperately hoping that Y/n would show up anytime soon because currently he has Kim Nali all up in his business. He doesn’t mind the girl, but what he expected was a simple ‘Hi, how are you?’ not her to hang around him all night. She even left her friend, which apparently was her first time at Kappa Chi.

“Where’s your friend? Sanghee, was it?” Heeseung asked, interrupting the girl. “Oh—Sanghee, she doesn’t mess around, I wouldn't go for her!” Nali nervously giggles. Heeseung looked at the girl weirdly, What the fuck is she on about…He thought.

“I don’t want to sleep with your friend, you left her alone, you should go be a good friend and find her.” Heeseung scoffed. “Oh—sorry! She’s okay though, she is very outgoing and likes to meet new people—see! she’s talking to someone!” Nali pointed in a direction, Heeseung turning his head to look. Sanghee and Hyunjae were talking to each other.

Heeseung looked down at his phone, constantly checking the time and constantly checking for a text. It was already 11 and Y/n wasn’t there, neither were her friends so they were probably still getting ready.

“Yo, do you know when Soobin is getting here?” Heeseung asked Beomgyu who was walking by. “He texted me saying they’ll be late, you waiting on Y/n?” He asked, taking a sip from his cup.

“Yeah, figured she would’ve texted me about being late.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Soob said the girls were napping together so they’re just waiting on them.” Beomgyu informed Heeseung, turning his attention to Nali and nodding at her.

“Hi, Nali.” Beomgyu said, the girl waved back. It was awkward. “Your friend and Hyunjae are really hitting it off.” Beomgyu laughs. “Save her.” He jokes before running off.

“How’s medical school?” Heeseung decides to ask, the awkward tension between the two was killing him. “It’s okay, the stress is getting to me so it could be better…” She sighed. “That’s the cost of wanting to be a doctor.” Heeseung jokes. “You’re smart, you’ll overcome the stress.” He assures the girl.

Nali’s eyes twinkle when she’s speaking to Heeseung, literally they do. She was so focused on the boy's eyes that she completely missed what he was saying.

“Nali? Are you listening?” Heeseung asked, waving his hand in front of the girl's face to get her attention. “Y/n and I are gonna go and get more ice. It was nice catching up with you.” Nali didn’t even notice the girl that stood beside Heeseung, Y/n who was in her eyes awfully close to the boy.

They were even matching.

“Hi, Nali.” Y/n stuck her hand out to the girl. “Hi.” Nali shook her hand. “You’re so pretty, I’ve seen you on twitter.” Y/n complimented the girl. “Thank you.” Nali sheepishly giggles.

“Of course.” Y/n nods her head.

—

“She seemed a little awkward…” Y/n points out as she got into the passenger seat of Heeseungs car. “That’s just Nali, she’s nice but recently she’s been crossing the line.” Heeseung complained. “What do you mean by that?” Y/n buckled her seatbelt.

“She's jealous about me and you, she asked about what we were and told me I could be ‘real with her’.” Heeseung did air quotes. “I told her that if we were anything it wouldn’t be her business. And the way she responds to the primrose tweets—she doesn’t even go to primrose?!” Heeseung scoffed.

“Oh, yeah I noticed that. She was in my replies. I thought it was kind of odd because I’ve never seen her before. It was like she was in denial.” Y/n sighs.

“She’s been trying to get back into my life, which I wouldn’t really mind, I would love to become actual friends with her but she seems to want something more.”

“She is a girl with real feelings, Heeseung. Remember that.” Y/n defends the girl. “I’d feel the same way, if I got that type of attention just to keep things casual I’d probably go batshit crazy and become obsessed too.”

“Yeah, but I told her that I’m only messing around and she understood, she was fine with it at first so I don’t know why she’s acting like this.”

“Because she’s human.” Y/n laughs, “She definitely caught feelings later on while spending time with you. I don’t blame her.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a charming guy, it’s hard to not want you.”

Is this girl drunk?

“Y/n, are you tipsy or something?” Heeseung quickly glances away from the road to look at the girl, “Do you hear what you are saying right now?”

“No, I’m not tipsy, are you crazy? I don’t even like to drink like that.”

“Are you saying you want me?” Heeseung gets straight to the point. “I’m saying you’re charming, you have this type of personality that makes someone want to be around you all the time.”

“Oh.” Heeseung falls silent. “Do you want me to want you?” Y/n teases him.

“No, but I wouldn’t hate a cool girl like you wanting me.” Heeseung says confidently. “Ah, okay. I see how it is.” Y/n laughs.

“For real though, would you get with me if we weren’t friends?” Heeseung asked out of curiosity. “Real question is, would you?” Y/n looks at the boy in disbelief, “You’re the one who doesn’t like to settle down.” She laughs.

“Okay, but you didn’t answer my question.” Heeseung was trying to get something out of Y/n, but he doesn’t know what.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. You kind of already act like my boyfriend. You do everything for me, you ask to match with me, and all your friends tell me you blow them off to hangout with me.” Y/n laughs, “But I just figured it’s because you like to be around me, if I wasn’t your friend but instead a fling you would treat me differently.”

“I guess so…” Heeseung fell silent once again.

m.list — previous — next

ᯇ ೀ taglist ( open ) ; @flwrstqr @haechology @heegyuwrld @wonyoungsvirus @enhaz1 @sparklingsjy @skzeyeu @euncsace @hotsforikeu @simjyunnie @yenqa @eleanorheartschishiya @ahnneyong @teddywonss @parkwonbinluvr @k1ttylvr @doulcie @wonifullove @woninluv @ilyjxdz @dimplewonie @grah127 @missychief1404 4 @eclipse-777 @heelee-01 @aerivrs @amesification n @txtbrainrot @haechansbbg @jaem4eva @rikizm @oldjws @aishigrey @jiawji @kgneptun @rikibun @arunabrak @riksaes @river-demon-slayer @soobs-things @saranghaohoshi @heelariously @blooqz @nxzz-skz @icepshrince

#enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen #heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smau #heeseung x you #heeseung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #heeseung imagines #enhypen imagines

[botanicadrabbles]

Hydrangeas'

Lucifer X Reader

Warning: Hanahaki, Blood mention.

Part 2

Word count: 1,027

Keeping it a secret was the hard part, sure you’re used to keeping things to yourself but avoiding Lucifer. The way he’d look at you with those soft eyes almost lost in desperation and longing, he wanted to talk to you multiple times but you’d turn the other way.

Now a days you barely left your room, when you did all you could hear was Charlie talking about her mother. She has every right you tell yourself, it’s not your fault you’re in this predicament.

It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to share what was your relationship to her. It wasn’t her fault Lucifer refused to acknowledge what you where or share measly little kisses and notions that where important to a relationship.

Over the last month you’d come to realise it wasn’t his fault either, you desperately wanted it to be. But you knew better.

Emotions where difficult, hell you barely knew how to control your own emotions. You couldn’t blame him for not knowing how to really understand emotions, you even knew why he was so distant..

The first time he loved someone it cost him everything and in the end she left. You felt stupid, guilt for thinking he didn’t want to love you.. Clearly you where paying the price.

More blood spilt from your lips, you spent most days in your bathroom now. Vomiting and becoming increasingly more pale. What used to use be small amount of petals and blood had turned into a small blossiming flower and harsher amounts of blood spilt.

You where so tired. Looking over to the alarm clock sitting where your body soap was ment to be you saw the time 3:00am. You had made a make shift bed in your bathroom, too tired to move much.

Hearing hushed whispers at your door you slowly collected yourself and dragged your heavy body across your room, it felt like you where dragging chained balls across the floor. You eyes wanting to shut.

Blanket wrapped loosely around you, you opened the door.

Angeldust…Husk… Huh…

“Hello?” you asked your voice voming out quieter and weaker than you had expected, Angel looked at you seemingly as if he had seen a ghost and for the first time you swear you can see Husk looking worried.

“Are you pregnant?” Angel asks, your eyes go wide in shock and take a moment to respond, seeing Husk look perplexed Angel had so confidently and shamelessly ask. “I don’t think so?” you asked raising an eyebrow confused. “Oh thank the heavens-...-Can you say that here?” Angel would say looking around to see if he got any confirmation.

Seeing no one else down the darkened and honestly terrifying hallway in the night you where grateful not wanting people to see you in such a condition.

“Why do you look so awful than?” Once again Angel asked so confidently as if shame just bounced off of him like a bouncy ball. You didn’t know what to really say about it all so you just shrugged, “Maybe a flu? Not to sure- could be contagious though-” you said trying to close the door.

You should have known better when Husk just pushed the door open, both of the two men walking in “Welcome in then” you said wanting to sink into the floor and allow it swallow you whole. You had no strength left to fight them as they investigated your room before finally finding their way into the bathroom where they found your secret out.

“Oh y/n/n…” Angel said pitying you, you hated that. Please anything but pity. You stomach turned more when you saw even Husk was looking at you with the same expression.

“Please just…Don’t tell anyone” You said closing your eyes, desperately wanting to just rest. They agreed, but over the course of the next few days Angel and Husk would alternate getting you food, drinks, medicine to help with the pain (in Angel’s case drugs) and any form of entertainment they could.

They didn’t want to force you to say who it was but could safely assume it wasn’t either of the because while they where there and distracting you, your symptoms seemed to lessen. They put all their free time into making sure your mind was too busy to think about who ever it was that was causing that pain.

You could here people talking outside your door a lot as if they knew something was wrong now but could always hear Husk and Angel telling them you just need some space and just going through a tough time.

It wasn’t really a bad thing.

You just wish they’d lay off on telling you about how Lucifer was bugging them for information on you. You where also surprised how they hadn’t quite figured out who it was. The one time Angel ever asked who it was, was a joke and more with the hope it wasn’t Alastor as there was no hope for that.

Angel was fixated on trying to play cupid while Husk would constantly tell him to lay off, you appreciated them and became better and better friends as this situation continued.

Another month passed and he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see you.. You where asleep.. He was okay with that. His hand came to brush hair away from your face as he looked over you.

He admired you, to him you where art. Something to look at from a distance and not touch, he was terrified of what it could mean, the way you make him feel. He desired you so desperately but was afraid of corrupting you, changing you..Making you leave.

He didn’t notice anything, he was there one moment and gone before you could wake up. You could swear you felt him there but took it as a symptom of the Hanahaki. It was a horrible disorder it was…

That night you couldn’t go back to sleep, eventually sneaking off to Angel and Husk’s room and sleeping between the two as if they where your parents and you had, had a nightmare.

You couldn’t face Lucifer.. Not yet.

Maybe tomorrow.

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #x reader #angst #hanahaki

[starwarsbian]

can you feel my heart?

listened to can you feel my heart by bring me the horizon the entire time

p in v, fingering, finger sucking,,leather? pet names, established relationship, emo boy anakin, modern au

tw cw: rough sex, knife play mention, gun play mention, breeding if you squint, impact play, degrading, pussy slapping dick piercing, he calls you his bitch Sorry LOL…

a/n: i would luv to write a part two LOL this is my first time like publically posting smth i wrote be nice to me i also refuse to use capitalization just read it anyway it is also not proofread! at all

anakin pulls up right outside your house in his shitty beater car, and you expect nothing less from him. he looks quite scary to other people, you think, and he is kind of an asshole but he makes up for it.

you get in the car and watch as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth swearing under his breath over how good you look—he’s obsessed. his lip piercing catching on his own teeth he says “fuck, you look good.. always look so fucking good.”

you have no real plans for the day you just needed to see him. you blush and flash him a smile. “thanks, ani. i’m happy to see you. give me a kiss?”

he doesn’t wait a moment to pull you closer to him inside the car and press your lips together. “happy to see you too, baby..what did you want to do?”

“let’s go back to your place, yeah? i have something i want to show you…”

“what? what do you have to show me?”

you shake your head. “not yet, anakin. get me alone.”

“fine, brat.”

anakin pulls out of your driveway and winds down just the few streets that separate your houses. he throws the car into park and all but rips you out of the car. he pulls you into the house by the hand before immediately pinning you against the door as soon as it closes.

“what was that, baby? about showing me something?” he slams his lips into yours again and winds his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck. he tugs and it sends your head tilting back, exposing your throat.

he starts with kisses and that quickly turns to sucking and then that turns into biting.

he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and squeezes your left breast; pinching your nipple through your bralette.

“yeah…i do. take my shirt and skirt off, ani.”

and he does, maybe too fast for his liking. he kicks himself metaphorically for not taking more time but as his attention comes back to the present his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you wearing a lacey black bralette with matching panties and..bands of leather wrapped around your plush thighs. you purposely put them on in a way where your flesh bulges just a little between the gaps. they’re simply decorative and don’t specifically serve a purpose for you but a dirty, dirty thought goes through anakins head.

“jesus christ. jesus. fucking. christ. get to the bedroom, now,” anakin growls.

you throw yourself down onto his bed and wait for him to come press his body on top of yours but he doesn’t. instead he fucks around with his phone, making you feel ignored and pout.

“ani, i put this on for you. what are you doing?”

“fuck, baby. just wait a second. i’m going to absolutely ruin you and as much as i’d love for the neighbors to hear me fucking wreck you..i think you’d prefer if they didn’t? or do you not want me to play music?”

you’d rather him do everything he wants to you without worrying about sound. “play the music, anakin.”

he presses play and can you feel my heart starts. anakin takes his shirt off in that way that guys do where they reach behind themselves to grab the back of their shirt— yknow that way. his shoulders and arms are your obsession, honestly and the movement is delightful to watch.

he pounces on the bed and grabs you by the waist, pulling you up to meet his kiss. his very hard, messy, fast kiss. it’s seconds before his hands snake down your body, sliding his fingers under the straps on your thighs before hiking you up onto his lap. resting against his cock. anakin uses the straps to push you back and forth on top of him. the friction makes him stutter and his eyes are low with need.

“you put these on for me to grab? you thought id like to see you dressed like a slut..with special little handles for me to hold while i wreck you.”

“yes-yes ani. this is what i wanted.”

he slaps your cunt. a first for you and him but the pathetic look on your face made it clear you planned to tease him. anakin doesn’t like to be teased. he owns you and he doesn’t need to play games about it.

“i’m gonna hold them and fuck you then. pull you hard back against my cock and listen to you scream.”

his hand slides down your front pressing his fingers against your clothed clit. a moan escapes your mouth..anakin holds the left side of your face and pauses to ask, “is this okay? can this be rough? can i slap you around like a whore..”

“fuck, yes. hit me anakin. please, baby. fucking smack me. hurt me”

a huge grin spreads across his face as he pulls back his right hand and slaps you straight across the face. once..twice..three times. your eyes water and your cunt throbs…feeling your heartbeat in two places.

“you’re such a fucking slut. what kind of whore calls her boyfriend to come get her just to be smacked around and fucking used. that’s what i’m going to do. i’m going to use you.”

shivers are sent up your spine at the sound of his words. you love when he talks to you like this. anakin tears off your matching set with absolutely no regard to what you want to do with it. the song continues in the background and you let yourself moan at his eagerness and disregard.

“please, anakin. i want you to use me. that’s what i’m for.”

he slaps your cunt again and you buck your hips towards him as he grinds his thumb down a little too hard on your clit and leans down to pant in your ear.

anakin unbottons his black jeans and kicks them off while you watch, mesmerized by the outline of his hard cock in his boxers. his expression hardens even more and he smirks as you reach out, hoping he’d let you touch him.

“come here, then, darling. come touch it.”

you’ve done this with anakin before but your breathing is still shaking and your hands tremble as they pull down his boxers. he’s so hard..his tip weeping and bordering on purple..the shiny barbell through his cock still takes your breath away. you rub your thumb across the tip and hear anakin hiss.

“i just want to fuck you, don’t worry about me. lay down and spread your legs.”

you do as he says and you expect him to go in the direction of preparing you to take him but instead he kisses and bites your thighs. he sucks and takes his time working you up. your cunt is dripping right in front of him.

“you look so pretty..your cunt looks so fucking pretty, angel. god, you drive me fucking insane. i don’t know how i control myself most of the time. i think of the dirtiest things to do to you, baby and you don’t even know.”

“like what anakin? show me..let me feel it.”

anakin scoffs and laughs at you. “i don’t know, baby. i don’t want to hurt you if you don’t want to be hurt. you know i love you? right?”

“fuck, anakin. yea i know. i love you i want you to ruin me. do it now im tired of asking.”

something inside him breaks. he grabs your hips bruisingly hard and spits in your face.

“who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, slut? because i know it can’t be me. say you’re sorry. now.”

you shake your head…knowing it’s going to piss him off even more.

“no? what do you mean no? did you fucking hear me,” he growls at you before supporting the side of your face with his hand and smacking you scarily hard. he wraps his hands around your throat, only squeezing the sides. he doesn’t actually want to hurt you; not like that.

“you’re my bitch. i’m going to take you like you’re my bitch,” his voice softens “your safe word is flower. don’t hesitate to tell me if it’s too much, okay? i still want to take care of you and i swear i’m going to make you feel good.”

you blush and nod as he moves his hand up towards your face again..you flinch; fully expecting him to slap you again, but he doesn’t. he wants you to open your mouth and suck on his fingers.

anakin fucks your throat with them, rings and all. you choke on the metallic taste and stare at him with glassy eyes as you do what he expects.

“mmm..m gonna fuck you with these. roll over. darling.”

you roll onto your tummy and feel anakins hands glide up and down your thighs and ass. he teases and touches your slit..

“awe baby…she’s crying for me do you feel that? wants me so bad…,” as he spreads your lips enough to see you’re aching hole and pretty little clit. he pinches it…twisting between his fingers just a little. he stops and slaps your cunt again before splitting you open with two fingers without a warning.

you gasp and force your hips back towards the intrusion; sending anakin even further into you than he was planning. “well baby..since you insist,” he chuckles.

anakin begins to finger you at a devastating pace and angle. the feeling of you on his hand is almost as good as on his cock. he loves to feel you clench and see you whine when he purposely strokes your g-spot. he speeds up: massaging and prodding the soft spot inside you while you moan and desperately try to get him to kiss you.

he grabs the straps around your thighs and lifts you onto his lap. “grind on me, babe. feel how hard i am for you.”

“ani…i want you. i want your cock. come on stop teasing.”

“nothing is ever good enough for you huh? you’re so fucking pathetic and needy. come here.”

anakin lines himself up with your weeping hole and forces himself all the way in. he presses on your lower stomach and bites your shoulder.

“you look so beautiful. stay still for me.”

anakin holds you a few inches above his lap before he starts to thrust up into you. you drip further down his cock and he can’t help but stuff you full as soon as possible.

“i wanna fucking hurt you..i want to cut you. sweetheart…i wanna hold a knife to your pretty little throat or better yet? a gun to your head. letting you suck my cock shaking with fear ‘ani!! no! please don’t hurt me’ but really all i want is to fuck your throat while you’re so scared you’re Soaked.”

your heart races and you nod rapidly, unable to even get words out of your mouth.

anakin pushes harder into you and feels you throb around him..your clit aches for his fingertips. he tells you to turn around; his cock inside you but with your back pressed against his chest. he continues to fuck up into you and wraps his hand around your throat..hard enough to feel your pulse.

“i can feel your heart pounding. you like this? you like when your boyfriend says dirty things to you and fills you to the brim with cock? you’re so excited, huh?”

his grin can be felt against your shoulder while he reaches to your front. using his center two fingers he does small quick circles on top of your clit. “i can feel your heart here too, love.”

heat spreads across your entire body as you give in completely to whatever anakin wants from you.

this is for u bae @jjjajjaahhahahaha

#Spotify #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #emo boy anakin #modern au #star wars smut #this was self indulgent #i’m a lesbian but hc has me by the throat

[loveyouanyway]

i'll kiss your scars

buck x eddie | 900 words | teen rating

prompt: trans buck for @steadfastsaturnsrings 🥰 💖

“But y-you like men.” “Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.” Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there. “That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck." or Buck tells Eddie that he's trans and things change between them, but for the better.

read on ao3 or below :)

Buck, Eddie and Christopher are enjoying their dinner together in comfortable silence.

Christopher finishes his plate of spaghetti and meatballs first and now that he’s not eating, the silence feels weird so he speaks up.

“I’m not the only Christopher in my class anymore.”

Eddie hums. “Oh new student?”

“Nope. His name used to be Chloe but now it’s Christopher.”

Eddie and Buck look to each other in understanding.

“So he’s…”

“Trans. Yeah, it’s not a big deal, Dad. Now people just call me Chris and him Christopher.”

“How did people react?” Buck asks curiously.

“Everyone was cool about it. Some people had questions though so Christopher answered them. Then Mr. Nolan told everyone that he will not tolerate any transphobia or homophobia but he’s happy to tell us more about it. And if we ever have to talk to him about it, we can.”

Buck blinks back tears thinking how happy he is that in school, kids can come out and people will be supportive or at least respectful enough that they won’t say anything negative. He thinks about how bad it would be if he came out in middle school. He’s so glad Christopher has a teacher like Mr. Nolan.

He should probably tell Eddie that he’s trans. It’s been over a year since they’ve been friends. He knows Eddie will be accepting and everything but it’s still difficult. He doesn’t want anything to change between them.

“Buck?” Eddie and nudges his foot with his own under the table.

“You okay?” he asks.

Buck quickly nods. “Yeah no I’m good.”

Eddie thankfully doesn’t push and instead asks what movie they should watch tonight.

—

They watch Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse and Buck suggests they watch the second one next movie night which Christopher enthusiastically agrees to.

Christopher gets ready for bed reluctantly and Buck reads him a chapter of Percy Jackson. Eddie watches them with a sickening fond smile.

Once the chapter’s done, he and Eddie both hug Christopher and tell him “good night” and Buck yearns for him to have this every night.

They walk into the living room and Buck plops onto the couch with a sigh.

Eddie sits down next to Buck and faces him.

“Hey, you know that you can tell me anything, right?” he says earnestly with his stupidly pretty eyes looking him in the eye.

Buck breaks eye contact and nods. “Yeah of course, uh thanks.”

Eddie doesn’t reply as if he’s hoping Buck will say more.

“Just give me a moment.” he adds and to that Eddie hums and rests his hand on Buck’s thigh. Oh god. This isn’t helping his nerves.

Buck takes a deep breath. “I’m trans.”

A second passes.

“Thanks for telling me.” Eddie smiles, trying to act like he didn’t know this but Buck sees past it.

“You already knew. How?”

“I saw your testosterone gel thing in the bathroom once. I guess you forgot to put it away like you usually do,” Eddie answers softly.

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, Buck. You don’t owe me anything regarding that.”

“We’ve been best friends for months.”

“Yeah well did I come out to you as cis? No. Besides gender is fucking stupid. Am I even a man?”

Buck sighs. He supposes Eddie has a valid point.

“Uh, while we’re talking about more serious topics, I have something to tell you,” Eddie admits.

Buck doesn’t have enough time to panic before Eddie calmly says “I’m in love with you.”

Is this a fucking dream? Buck doesn’t know what to say. “I- What do you mean?”

Eddie continues, “Yeah that was one of the factors in the whole me discovering my sexuality process. Hen called me out so many times about my gay panic for you.”

“But y-you like men.”

“Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.”

Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there.

“That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck. I know how I feel about you. I love you beyond your body but I mean, I really love your body and I hope I can make you feel safe and comfortable with it.”

Yeah this is a fucking dream come true.

Eddie lifts up the bottom of his shirt. “Can I…”

Buck has no idea what he’s about to do but he’ll let Eddie do anything to him. That probably should be concerning but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” he says with a shaky breath.

Eddie gently takes Buck’s shirt (which actually belonged to Eddie originally) and looks at him with such adoration, it makes Buck want to cry.

He lowers his head and brings his lips to Buck’s top surgery scars. He softly kisses along the two lines, whispering “I love you” after each kiss.

Now Buck is crying. He is just so overwhelmed with love—both his love for Eddie and feeling so loved by Eddie. He manages to say, “I love you” back before the tears make unable to speak coherently

Of course Eddie understands and doesn’t tell him “No it’s okay don’t cry,” instead he embraces him into a hug that makes Buck feel all warm and fuzzy — like all hugs from Eddie do.

They stay there, holding each other and Buck realizes things have changed between them but in the best way possible.

#also yeah at first i just put mr nolan and then i was gonna change it but i couldn't come up with anything so i am christopher's teacher 😌 #nolan writes #my fics #buddie fic #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #trans buck #buck and eddie #buck x eddie

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

saw ur vents abt dungeon meishi and while I haven’t read the series yet or watched the anime I have seen bits and pieces and already saw the blowup scene where Toshiro attacks Laois and like. even I with zero context didn’t totally hate him. It sucks majorly that it had to happen but like. Toshiro is going through his own shit and plenty of other characters ALSO don’t like Laois! I think people just see that scene and project the amount of times that’s happened to them with someone in real life, which like. I get it. I’m autistic and reading that scene hit like a gut punch bc it was something I had experienced directly in real life: trying to be friends with someone, thinking you are friends, only for them to reveal one day that they couldn’t stand you and hated your guts from day one. You wonder why the fuck they pretended and let you hurt even worse than outright initial rejection. You wonder why they’d put themselves through enduring you. It makes you feel like you can’t trust anyone, makes you feel like utter shit. I 100% get why it bothers people. But you can’t project real life people you experienced onto this character that does not align at all except for this one moment. Also knowing about the author, she probably put that in on purpose as commentary for how autistics in Japan generally have to go through shit like this bc of the way their social culture is. She’s made plenty of autistic commentaries before, I doubt she stuck that scene in there for no good reason. The fact that Toshiro kept quiet and didn’t say anything until he couldn’t take it anymore is VERY indicative to me of the ways Japan’s typical social system is a struggle on all sides. Not to say these are problems unique to Japan, but the nuance needs to be understood. Toshiro isn’t being a dick just for the sake of it. I want to read it sometime so I can better understand the guy, but I don’t want to hate him based on one scene where he was an asshole. Laois is an asshole plenty of times himself, being very overtly written as autistic doesn’t absolve him from the responsibilities of being an adult.

TLDR: People tend to infantilize Laois and demonize Toshiro, which comes down to the prejudices preconceived for both of them: people see Laois, as an autistic man, as an innocent sweet guy who needs to be protected. They see Toshiro, as an Asian man, as someone who should be “polite and honorable” or whatever and are appalled when he acts like a fallible human being and not some appropriation of a fictional romanticized samurai. I understand feeling betrayed and angry seeing a character be a genuine asshole about something (social expectation does not completely absolve Toshiro of his own antagonizations however much of a reason he had) but when it’s so damn one sided, and especially in a series where almost NO one is without complete asshole qualities that round them out, I find it kind of gross that people hate on him for that. Anyway. Just wanted to send a message of support and understanding. Hopefully after I read more I can offer more analysis to corroborate with you on.

100% CORRECT thank you anon

i also understand the people who are sympathizing with laios bc that scene is very easy to relate to for many autistic or otherwise neurodivergent people (i also got a cold sweat when i was watching it bc. like. having someone you thought was a friend straight up tell you there are parts of your behavior that they can't stand is one of the worst things to experience of all time, ESPECIALLY if you were only showing that behavior around them bc you thought they were your friend and you trusted them) but it's so frustrating seeing so many people have such shallow opinions about toshiro bc of it. im on hands and knees begging people to consider the characters in three dimensions and/or develop better reading comprehension because like!! toshiro's official meeting with laios's new group literally leads with 'oh his name is actually toshiro and we never knew bc our leader had a misunderstanding and microaggressed him and he was too polite to correct him' laios is not an innocent party here!! he is not an innocent uwu autistic baby he's a grown adult man with responsibilities, in that whole time he was partied with toshiro he never learned his real name!! plus using toshiro's crush on falin as a reason to hate him, falin's adolescence was spent in a school and a social setting where she was expected to mask + her being a girl also means she is expected to mask by default -> she is better at masking than laios so why are people saying that toshiro hates laios for the same traits in falin bc clearly not?? also saw one person saying 'he only likes falin because she's hot' NO HE DOES NOT HE WOULD NOT RISK HIS LIFE HEALTH AND RETAINERS IN A DUNGEON ON A FOREIGN CONTINENT FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN HE ONLY THOUGHT WAS SEXY!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DUNMESHI FANS THINK WITH YOUR BRAAIN

the whole fight he had with laios where laios points out that their party is more serious about finding falin and resolving everything also drives me nuts because i've seen at least one take saying that toshiro doesn't care about falin as much as team laios because of this. which yes the fact that team laios understands the importance of health in pursuit of a goal is very very important but for many cases in east asian culture (and actually any culture with emphasis on capitalism and economic growth) productivity will get valued above all else which leads to neglect of personal health, i.e: what toshiro was doing. so this is just a clown take to begin with

also interesting to me that almost every character in dunmeshi thus far has demonstrated some kind of racial bias/misconceptions (i.e: chilchuck about elves, senshi about half-foots, etcetera etcetera) and laios and falin are no exception. race and racial differences and conflict and coexistence is also one of the underlying themes in dungeon meshi, with the elves of the west being considered a major issue to many dungeon-goers and the mayor hating dwarves and having to contend with those elves, and then marcille's motive for studying black magic and even thistle's motive for being the dungeon keeper. so it's real fucking ironic that the fans are really quick and happy to demote toshiro to 'asshole side character who is bullying our autistic rep' instead of, you know, using nuance and thinking about it

tldr; dungeon meshi has great commentary on what it's like as an autistic person in society. but dungeon meshi fans are too quick to write off toshiro as an asshole japanese guy who is ableist and getting in the way of their white woman yuri, therefore helping to promote this website's enduring legacy as the piss-poor reading comprehension website

#dungeon meshi #asks #i thought this might happen when i heard dunmeshi was getting an anime adaptation but that doesnt make me feel better abt being right #i watched the ep last night with some friends and one of the first things out of their mouth during the laios-toshiro fight was 'i hate him #and i get it bc both of us had bad experiences being neurodivergent in a shitty american suburbia town #but also like. damn girl!! already???

[foxgloveprincess]

Pairing: Cole Turner x Female Reader, Curtis Everett x Female Reader [Second Person Narrator]

Summary: You always try to be your best at your job.

Word Count: 919

Attic Wives Anonymous Masterlist

Warnings: Dark, Dubious Consent (Sex Toys, mild Overstimulation), Manhandling, Clueless Reader, Cages, Pet Names (pup, lamb, etc.). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: Time to meet the contractor/handyman and his business partner, the toy maker. It’s a side story for A.W.A. that I just wanted to peek into. Don’t know if there’ll be any more parts to this. But Enjoy!

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog if you want. However, I give no permission to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work on any third party website or app. Seeing my work posted anywhere beside my blog, my library blog, or my AO3 account (FoxglovePrincess) means it’s been stolen/plagiarized.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics. 

This is unBeta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing, themes, dynamics, or warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Thank you!

Things you now knew were stupid: answering a sketchy ad on the side of the road for a job in product testing. Apparently not your brightest idea. As Jeanne would say, you’re a dumb bitch. At least you were cute. 

It hadn’t seemed that bad. Cole and Curtis were pleasant, though they made you well aware of your deficient resume. You didn’t have marketable skills. It was something people said a lot. 

But that didn’t stop them from hiring you. They wanted you to start right away. And the benefits? They said they’d be comprehensive. 

What they didn’t mention was what exactly that meant. You were just happy they’d chosen you. With job after job firing you for ‘incompetence’, they’d seen your potential. Had said so, in exactly those words. You’d been on cloud nine, smiling wide. 

Before they opened the door to your office and had you test the first product. 

“Just turn your head toward the camera,” Cole coaxes, his sweet words dripping over you like honey. 

Your feverish body slumps over. The machine between your legs continuing its torturous thrusts and vibrations. 

A warm hand falls to your lower back, the other tilting your head up to meet stormy blue eyes. 

“She’s had enough,” Curtis says. With a flick of a switch, the machine beneath you turns off. 

“Come on, man,” Cole whines, “just a little longer. She’s so fucking adorable when she breaks like this.”

“We don’t want to break her.” 

Bundled into strong arms, you’re pulled off the toy and laid out on a nearby cushion. Your limbs melt into the plush fabric, twitching from overstimulation. Not an ounce of strength to move of your own volition. That’s all been fucked out of you. 

“It’s half the fun,” Cole mutters under his breath, starting a routine of cleaning off the toy. Though he complains, he won’t go against his partner outright. They work too well together for that. 

A quiet moment passes, Cole cleaning up and Curtis rummaging through some drawers. He produces a blanket a few moments later and carefully wraps you in it. You hum and lean close to his gentle touch. 

“By the way, Ari’s got me making a tail for his girl,” Cole says, joining Curtis in putting you away. He tilts your chin up with a finger. “How do you feel about that?”

You blink slowly and let incomprehensible mumbles fall past your lips. Mostly in the affirmative, not quite understanding how they’ll make you a tail. Isn’t that something animals are born with? Or sometimes like your cousin Courtney? Your brow furrows as you try to think.

You shiver and grip at the quilt over your shoulders, tucking it closer to your face.  For one night you wish they’d let you sleep here. Not that you’d complain about your normal accommodations. They could always fire you, and then where would you be?

“Don’t go falling asleep on us now or you’ll forget your form,” Cole reminds. He tucks a pen and paper into your unsteady grip and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

You blink to clear your eyes and look at the short form. Five questions and a comment box. 

“Do you need help?” Curtis asks, a hand on the cushion by your head, close enough to touch. 

Despite the urge to stretch into his touch and accept his generosity, you shake your head. It’s your job, you’ll do it yourself. Dragging your body from the cushion, you sit up and place the paper on your leg. Scrawl the product description on the top line. All five questions stare up at you, a scale of 1 to 5 beneath. 

Is the product enticing to potential customers? 

Is the product innovative?

Does the product seem high quality?

Is the product different from other products?

Does the product fulfill our customer’s needs and wants?

Though sluggish, your brain processes each question and makes a thoughtful rating for Cole’s new machine. The comment box proves more difficult. Words harder to scrawl while your hand lacks its usual strength and dexterity. But you jot down a few notes—about the vibration and the fit, you think? 

A yawn cracks your jaw and you stand on wobbly legs. Holding onto different bits of furniture about the room, you hobble to place the paper in its usual basket. They’ll look at it at the end of the month and determine what to do with it. 

Legs like jelly, you steady yourself a moment too long. Your bosses preparing your next task. You glance over and sigh. Still trying to perfect that thing. They’ve been working on it since you started working for them. 

“Come on, pup,” Curtis beckons, voice gruff, holding the door open. “Time for some shuteye.” 

You nod and bend your knees, ducking into the small metal cage. They finally got the cushion on the bottom thick enough that you don’t feel the bars digging into your side as you lay down. And they added some personal touches—a few pillows, your favorite blankets, a stuffed animal—to ensure the space still allows comfort to fit a full-grown human. 

Another yawn breaks free of your lips. Your head falls to the pillow and you let your eyes flutter shut. 

Fingers caress your cheek through the bars. You peek open your eyes to see Cole, a soft look of satisfaction on his face. 

“Time for a little nap, little lamb,” he whispers, “then there’s a few more things we need to test.”

#curtis everett x reader #cole turner x reader #dark #dark fic #dub con #tw dub con #attic wives anonymous #18+ #minors dni