#I have the best wife I love her so much like

[rosyblooom]

a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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username wake up babe new photos of charles and y/n's secret wedding just dropped

username these crumbs are actually such nasty work smh😩 they're sick! username can't wait to see to finally see the whole wedding in 60 years🥲

username IS THIS TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR OMFG

yourusername iIy baby🥰🥰

charles_leclerc ❤️ username y'all are too cute 🤧 username I LOVE YOU GUYS SM!!!!

username still can't believe charles has a wife and it isn't me😭

username oh to be called mon cœur by charles leclerc...

username if you zoom in on the 3rd pic you'll see me face down in the ocean😔

username omg that makes two of us !! TWINNING😜

charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Wow. ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

liked by iamrebbecad, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 599,042 others

yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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username not taylor's 'lover' omg stoppp😭😭😭

username aww there's something so special about seeing childhood friends turn into lovers🥹🫶

username dear lord... i see what you've done for others🧎‍♀️

username lool🤣

charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

(liked by creator)

username alright that's enough internet for today🤧

username AHHH THE 3RD PIC WITH D/N??? I'M CRYING

username if they ever break up, I'll stop believing in love cause wdym

username girl don't speak that shit into existence !! username wait you're right SRY I TAKE IT BACK PLSS

1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25

#f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #f1 imagine #cl16 x you #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles x y/n #charles x you #charles leclerc fanfic #smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 instagram au #fanfic #f1 fic #charles x reader #cl16 fic #f1 scenario #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 x you

[dante-mightdie]

Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺

There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺

It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.

beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp

c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless

he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price

it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are

and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family

you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either

he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements

he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down

your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude

it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up

goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,

"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections

“appreciating what what gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did

you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love

somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope

perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #viking!simon

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 52

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I always come back to Loki.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki lingers, his head against your arm as you sit in the hue of spring. You could be calm if he weren’t there, if he hadn’t just altered your irrevocably. His wife? 

You could’ve never imagined it. You can’t be his wife. You’re the maid. You’re lost and hopeless and unimportant. Yet he wants to marry you? You? Even your own father doesn’t want you. Until just then, you may have thought the same of man kneeling by your feet. 

Should it feel special? Should you be happy? Doesn’t every woman dream of her wedding day? You didn’t. You never expected a husband. You never had the thought to spare marriage. It just didn’t seem realistic to you. It was never a possibility you had to weigh. 

“You’re quiet,” he lifts his head slowly, looking up at you with his gemlike eyes, “aren’t you excited?” 

You suck in your lip then let it out, “yeah, I’m just... surprised.” 

“Mm, I’m sorry it wasn’t a better one,” he looks around, “no candles, no champagne... but there are flowers.” 

“Yeah, I guess, er--” 

You hear the doors and before you can face the intruder on your scene, Frigga’s voice unleashes in a shrill squeal, “did you do it? Oh, please, Loki, what did she say?” 

He shifts and clears his throat. He grips the arms rest and pushes himself to his feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead before he straightens. He lets out a breath as he turns to his mother. 

“We are getting married,” he says plainly. 

“Oh, how wonderful,” she chimes, “oh, a daughter-in-law!... Again.” She chuckles lightly, “it will be like a fairytale.” She flutters over to you as Loki moves out of her way, “darling,” she takes your hand, tugging you up to your feet, “this will be even grander than Walpurgisnacht. Oh yes, this will be unforgettable.” 

You look at Loki as he returns your helpless gaze. You pout in his direction as he shrugs. Your mouth curves deeper downward. Please help! 

“I’ve got some silhouettes in mind,” she pulls you away from the table, “Hela showed me this app, Pinterest I believe it’s called. I have all these splendid things saved.” 

‘Sorry,’ Loki mouths and turns his hands out as you’re dragged away from the sunlight and the serenity of nature. Back to the dark house where you can’t breathe. 

Inside, she takes you into the kitchen. She leaves you by the island as she flits around, dropping black tea into a pot and putting on the kettle to boil. She hums gleefully as you just stare. ‘Daughter-n-law'. That’s what she said. Would that make her your mother? 

“Dear,” she turns to you and exhales, her expression dampening, “I recall you said your mother isn't with us anymore. I understand that may make this bittersweet for you but I will be here for you. Whatever you need, whatever questions you have, I’ll be happy to help. A wedding is a big thing. There’s much to do.” 

You nod, “should we... should we hire a planner?” 

“A planner? Gods no! I fancy myself a bit of an amateur but more than adequate,” she tuts, “we could have it at the house. Or perhaps we might seek out a nice chapel.” 

You frown. It’s all so much so fast. She stops and puts her hand to her chest, “oh sorry, darling, I’m just so excited for you. I’m not trying to take over. Don’t be afraid to speak up. What do you think for a venue? Oh, perhaps a destination? Somewhere tropical?” 

You cross your arms and peer over, your eyes catching the sheen of sunlight. 

“The garden,” you murmur, “the gazebo. It’s all fixed up. We could put flowers around the rails.” 

“That’d be a beautiful ceremony but what about the reception? We need space.” 

“Oh,” you babble. 

“Certainly we could make it work. We could fit people into the garden, we may have to sacrifice a few hedges.” 

“Not many,” you mutter. 

“Pardon, dear?” She asks as the kettle clicks and she turns to grab it off the burner, “what do you mean by that?” 

“I...” your shoulders slump at the realisation, “I don’t have anyone to invite.” 

She’s quiet as she pours the steaming water into the tea pot, “that’s not true. You have us and oh, Bragi seemed quite fond of you.” 

“That doesn’t count.” 

“Why not? Dear, we love Loki because we have to, we love you because we want to,” she smiles. 

Your eyes drift away wistfully. She can’t understand. She has people, she has everything you ever wanted. Even with the promise of a pretty house, a gorgeous garden, and all that comes with it, it just doesn’t make you feel any different. 

You want a dad who loves you. You want a mother who’s alive. You want anyone who isn’t just obligated to you. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice goes low, “I’m not meaning to upset you. I’ll slow down. I understand it’s a lot--” 

“How could you want me to marry him? I don’t belong—I shouldn’t-- I can’t be your daughter.” 

“Why ever not?” She asks. 

You scoff and push your shoulders up, “I’m not good enough.” 

She laughs, but not a taunting laugh. It’s disbelieving. She takes you by the shoulders and makes you face her head on, “darling, let me tell you, you are. You... you have no idea.” 

“No idea?” You shake your head as you look at her from beneath your lashes. 

“About what you do to my son. No, you cannot see it but I do. My Loki. I’ve seen him married, I’ve seen him heartbroken, I’ve seen him through everything, but something’s different about this. About you,” he brings a hand up to caress your cheek and hairline, “you have a power over him. Once you claim it, this will all be so much easier.” She cups your cheeks and tilts her head with a coy smile, “that’s how a marriage should be, you will see. He’ll never admit it but my son is more like his father than you would think.” 

You scrunch up your nose. You don’t believe her. You can’t. You don’t have power. You’re just you. You’re not special or anything like that. You now what you are to Loki. The same thing you’ve always been to him, whether his maid, his plaything, or his wife; convenient. 

“You will see,” she assures as if she can hear your doubts, “and what always clears my mind is tea.” 

✨

Frigga expounds at length about all the possibilities ahead of you. She has grocery list that goes beyond a mere wedding. An engagement party, a bridal shower, the rehearsal, and not to mention, a scandalous bachelorette. You only sink further into anxiety. What have you gotten yourself into? 

Well, you never did say yes. You weren’t asked, were you? Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. 

You hold your chin, gnawing on your lip as Frigga rambles on about wedding colours. Green is nice but what about something subtle. Oh, or metallic. You simply nod, offering little to her monologue. 

Your eyes wander past her to the windows. The afternoon wanes as evening cools the air. You mourn the sunlight as it shifts and the curtains dull. 

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat draws you away from your detachment. 

Frigga quiets as she glances at her husband. He stands in the doorway, greeting you both with a subtle smile. 

“I hate to interrupt, dear,” he says to Frigga, “but I was hoping I might be spared a moment with our future daughter before the sun sets. It has been a long day and I’d hate to keep her later than need be.” 

“Oh, uh, certainly,” Frigga pushes her shoulders back, her cheeks tinging a dainty pink, “time must’ve got away from me. I’m so sorry, darling.” She reaches over and squeezes above your elbow, “I have been going on and on.” 

“You will have lots of time to do so,” Odin chuckles, “but I feel the rain coming soon and I would like a walk in the gardens before then.” He tilts his head towards you, “may I have the honour?” 

Frigga nudges you dips her head, “go on.” 

You stand and swallow tightly, crossing the room to Odin as he waits patiently. You offer a sheepish look as he offers his arm. You thank him and walk with him into the entryway. He lets you retrieve your shoes before you go to the back doors and he ushers you outside. 

You’re quiet as you descend the steps and stroll between the hedges. You feel the cool dampness creeping in the air. He’s right about the rain. You cling to his arm as a shiver crawls up your spine. 

He draws away briefly, slipping off his thick cardigan, and he slips it over your shoulders. You murmur a thank you and he loops his arm with yours once again. You carry on, uncertain. You can sense he means to say something and you think you know what. He isn’t as happy as Frigga about this union. 

You brace yourself for it. For him to put all your doubts to voice. You’re not good enough for Loki. This is a mistake. You are a pretender and you don’t belong in this family. 

“My son is a fool,” he begins, shaking you with his soft but deep tone. You exhale, somewhat comforted that you were right. For once. “The way he’s behaved, foolish. And that’s to put it lightly, my dear.” He reaches to pat your hand in the crook of his arm, “you deserve much better than either of my sons.” 

You keep your chin low as you watch your feet. A twig crushes beneath your sole as leaves rustle to your left. You glance over and stare after a short tail before it disappears. It’s only then you realise where he’s leading you. 

The gazebo rises ahead of you with it’s domed roof. He stops you at the bottom and turns. He lets you go and lowers himself to sit on the step. He pats the wood next to him. As you sit, he looks up, admiring the structure. 

“You did a good job,” he says. 

“What?”  

“On this,” he touches the railing, “looks sturdy.” 

“Oh, well I... I only called the carpenter.” 

“You did what needed to be done. What my son would not.” 

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug. 

“You did,” he insists, “do you not see it?” 

“See what?” You twiddle your fingers. 

“You are much stronger than he thinks you are. Than you think you are,” he shakes his head, “you underestimate yourself. My son, as much as I hate to think I raised him that way, while whine and whine before he gets anything done. If he can avoid it, it won’t be done. But you, I see it clearly, you do things. You know what life is. You just get through it.” 

You hum and bite down on your cheeks. Not having a choice isn’t bravery. If anything, it’s the opposite. 

“You shouldn’t. Just get through it. You should have some joy. You shouldn’t be locked away in the dark away from the sunlight. You should flourish in it,” he leans against you, “don’t let this marriage be like everything else.” 

You dip your head. He sees right through you. 

“You’re wrong, I’m not strong. I’m weak. I only do things because I’m afraid,” you sniffle. 

“But you can admit that fear. You can face it. Not many people can.” 

You sighs and drag your hands up and down your calves, hunching over your knees. 

“If you want to marry my son, I will not say a word to stop you, but I do want you to make a promise to me,” he continues, “a small one. Rather, think of it as a promise to yourself.” 

“Okay,” you wilt as you look over at him. His eyes are a bluish grey with flecks of slate. His gaze is gentle. 

“It’s what we spoke of before,” he says, “you must tell my son no.” 

“No?” 

“Ah, yes, I do regret he didn’t hear more it earlier in his life but he does need to hear it. Especially from you,” he intones. 

“But I...” 

“You will. And when you do, he will listen.” 

“How-- no, he wouldn’t.” 

“Ah, I know. My son is isn’t very good at that but he will. He must. He has reason to listen now. You are not his wife yet,” he puts his hand over yours, just atop your knee. 

You give a strained look, somewhere between a smile and frown. You’re flattered that he believe in you but you don’t. He doesn’t know the way it. He doesn’t know the way you are. 

“Alright, let’s practice,” he pulls his hand away and claps. He pushes himself to his feet with a grunt and spins to face you. He adjusts his collar and lifts his chin, putting on face, almost a pinched look, “now, wife,” his voice is slightly off, “what I say is law and you will do as I say.” 

You stare at him, confused. You purse your lips and shake your head. What is he talking about? 

He grins and shows his palms, “I am him. Pretend I’m my son,” he lowers his voice, “now, we’ve had enough of this conversation and I have made my decision.” 

You pick your nail, watching him dumbly. 

He breaks character again, “say no.” 

“What?” 

“Say it,” he orders then once more his poster shifts. “Wife, I will not tell you again.” 

You blink and take a deep breath, “n--no?” 

He sputters, “pardon? What was that?” 

“No,” you say firmer, heart beating, “no, I—I won’t.” 

“But I said so--” 

“Oh, um, okay--” 

“No, no, no,” Odin waves his hands, “keep going.” 

“Uh, okay, uh, no,” you say again. 

“No? You’re telling me no?” He puts on a display which does remind you of Loki. “How can you tell me no?” 

You look at him and blanch. His grey eyes stare back, goading you on. He bows his head slightly. 

“Yes, I mean, no. Yes, I am telling you no. No,” you steady your voice, “no.” He spins his finger and you repeat it again, loudly. 

He arches his brow and puts his hand to his chest, “no?” He sounds almost pathetic, “but darling,” he comes forward and lowers himself to his knees, one at a time. He takes your hand in his, “darling, please, don’t be mad at me.” 

You scoff as his theatrics turn ridiculous. You make a face and roll your eyes, “he wouldn’t...” 

“He will,” Odin assures. “If he knows you’re serious, if you don’t give him what he wants right away, oh, I think you could give him a right scare. As I have it, you already have done.” He lifts himself slightly and angles to sit beside you again, “just perhaps this time you needn’t scale the roof.” 

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

~

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

~

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

~

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

~

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

~

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

~

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions

#orc!bucky barnes #orc!bucky #orc!bucky x human!reader #orc!bucky barnes x human!reader #orc!husband #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes series #bucky series #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x female yn #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes ff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x oc #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagines

[dazednmatthews]

thinking abt how chris said he’s terrified to film solo content with girls or even take pictures because he knows that he’s gonna be shipped and harassed abt it is insane… and tara being like yeah i get it if i breathe next to a man i’m shipped w them… like do people not be embarrassed? we just don’t care anymore? we need to bring back shame cause this shit is so trifling 😭

i love being delusional as much as the next bitch like it’s literally a way of life and my favorite pass time but i just cannot imagine going on to THEIR SOCIALS and commenting about who they are or are not with like ????? thinking abt posting w my guy best friends and bitches everywhere being like “oh my god they’re together” makes me want to slam my head in a doorframe like i can’t even imagine how annoying that shit is for them. also like damn the video JUST came out and here yall go bro like can we have a SECOND of peace? like i’m actually begging yall to be normal 😭

chris cannot catch a break rn fr like free him first everybody arguing whether or not he DIED and now these hoes is debating whether or not he hates tara like PLEASE STFU

also bitches need to leave my wife alone I’m so serious… talking abt her crazy cause she’s filming w ur fave is insane. like ion see how u can hate from outside of the club when u can’t even get in!!!!!! she’s just a girl!!!!!! let her have FRIENDS in PEACE!

#cherriespeaks #stop hating on my wife tara cause i will be in ur walls #tara yummy #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #it’s honestly ridiculous #getagripchallenge

[dancingtotuyo]

Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.  

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.  

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours. 

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world. 

“It’s peaceful out here.” 

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay. 

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you. 

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom. 

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs. 

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach. 

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both. 

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too. 

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup. 

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says. 

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side. 

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss. 

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms. 

Joel sighs rolling his eyes. 

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway. 

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says. 

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this. 

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time. 

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room. 

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence. 

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now. 

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head. 

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells. 

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell. 

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines. 

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even. 

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach. 

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear. 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby. 

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side. 

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy. 

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts. 

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh. 

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow. 

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet. 

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape. 

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now. 

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through. 

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.  

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her. 

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission. 

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.” 

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it. 

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him. 

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father. 

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both. 

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says. 

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it. 

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace. 

“Not so tight, baby girl.” 

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.” 

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality. 

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head. 

“You’re welcome, Daddy.” 

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer. 

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.” 

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule. 

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t. 

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod. 

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him. 

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement. 

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement. 

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place. 

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh. 

“We can only hope,” you say. 

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response. 

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months. 

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out. 

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas. 

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.” 

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees. 

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter. 

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version. 

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita. 

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.” 

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips. 

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.” 

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf. 

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink. 

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his. 

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months. 

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs. 

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind. 

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start. 

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired. 

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in. 

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert. 

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever. 

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.” 

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you. 

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too. 

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest. 

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control. 

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point. 

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family. 

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him. 

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his. 

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back. 

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years. 

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened. 

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting. 

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt. 

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body. 

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage. 

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool. 

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie. 

Tommy. 

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back. 

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else. 

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #high infidelity (joel miller) #ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Busy (Hannibal Lecter)

Description: Y/N is needy but Hannibal is busy

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,100k

She huffed and puffed as she waited for Hannibal to get done with paperwork. He was taking too long and she was getting needy. It was clear that he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. “I won’t be done for some time, love. Think you can wait?” He asked her but in reality it wasn’t even him asking, it was more of him telling her that she had to wait. What was taking him so long with paperwork? Between her legs was achy and has been since before he started. She knew that she couldn’t wait any longer for him to be done. She thought about touching herself but was worried that Hannibal would be done before she would and he would punish her. He hated when she took matters into her own hands. So she walked into his office in hopes he was almost done or even better yet done.

He was still working which caused her to let out a sigh that caught his attention. He looked over at her “I’m not done yet.” He stated. She walked in the room more. “But Hanni, I've been waiting for hours. I don’t know how much longer I can take.” She whined, dramatically. He rolled his eyes at her. “You’re just gonna have to wait it out.” He tells her. “But Hanni, I'm dripping wet.” She tells him and walks closer to him. He looked over at her and noticed that she was wearing one of his shirts and a pair of panties. She smirks and takes one of his hands between her legs. He feels her soaking wet panties and looks up at her.

She had pleading eyes that begged him to help her with some relief. He pulled his hand away from her panties and turned back to his work. She sighed and was about to start begging again. “If you want to get off it’ll have to be on my thigh.” He said without looking at her. They’ve never done that before. “Y-Your thigh?” She asked. He hummed in reply. “To get off you will hump my thigh or you will not get off at all.” She didn’t have any option and that was clear so she removed her dripping panties from herself and was about to take off her shirt, well his shirt before he stopped her. “Leave my shirt on.” He tells her.

She straddled his thigh and sat down on it. She moved around a bit trying to find the right angle that would hit perfect. Once she did she began moving. Her hips moved slowly as she wrapped her arms around him. He wasn’t paying attention to her which annoyed her but at least she could get off. She stared at the side of his face as her hips moved a little faster. Her clit hitting a perfect spot on his dress pants making her moan in his ear. That almost caught his attention but not quite. Her breathing started to pick up and it started feeling really good. “Hanni fuck your thigh feels so good.” She whined in his ear.

That caught his attention and he stopped what he was doing. He leaned back in his seat and watched his wife fuck herself on his thigh like a bitch in heat. His hands were on her hips helping her move. Her warm gush was all over his pant leg now but he didn’t care. “You’re making such a mess on my pants, dear.” He teased. She couldn’t form words so she moaned in response. His hand traveled up her body to her boobs. He squeezed them, making her gasp out his name. He leaned forward and started kissing her neck marking her as his own. She started panting like a dog, so close to her release that she’s been craving. Hannibal pulled back a little and watched her. “Are you close?” He asked. “Yes baby so close.” She moaned. He thought about letting her cum all over his thigh but wanted to feel her cum on his dick even more.

He lifted her on the table stopping her from cumming. She gasped and he stood up to unbutton his pants and pull them down. She watched as he got rid himself of his clothing and sat back down in the chair. He pulled her back down on him and entered her making her gasp out his name. The feeling of her leaking all over his dick was the best feeling in the world to him. He started thrusting up into her giving her no time to breathe or adjust. She was letting out loud moans and whines as he fuckked up into her. He was groaning himself, loving the feeling of her tight pussy gripping him. The chair was making noises as his hips slammed up into her. Her breath was being taken away from her as the pleasure got better and better. “Hanni fuck.” She almost screamed.

His angle was perfect but he was tired of thrusting up into her so he set her on the table and started thrusting again. She gripped his back and moaned as sweat dripped down their bodies and on to the now ruined paperwork. He didn’t care at the moment, too focused on his wife pleasure. He held her tight to him as he felt himself near the edge. He was a gentleman and always let her cum first. He reached down between them and started rubbing her clit. If she wasn’t screaming before she was definitely screaming now. One last thrust of his hips and she was cumming all over him. Her orgasm was intense due to her waiting hours to release. He let go right after her with a grunt. The feeling of him cumming inside of her was the best feeling to her. She loved it and if she wasn’t so tired she could cum again.

Both of them panting and riding out the pleasure until it was gone. She whined a little as he pulled out of her. He took his shirt off her and threw it somewhere in the office. He made a mental note to pick it up before tomorrow's session with Will. He picked her up from off the table forgetting about the paperwork. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. She let out a yawn as he carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and got in it with her. He sighed and pulled her into his chest. She was already asleep. 

“Hey Hannibal, why is your shirt in here?” Will asked. Fuck

#hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hugh dancy #hannibal imagine #hannibal smut #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter smut

[newtonsheffield]

MOLLY!!! 😭😭😭 https://x.com/bridgerton/status/1779947803445194809?s=46&t=5MS-nJRE_o6_WH-_5XCR-g

Okay yes, they’re bantering and it’s very sweet but you know one of the best things about it?

Kate is the one who starts whispering in Anthony’s ear first. They’re at a point in their marriage where they really know one another and themselves so well that they’re happy stood together somewhere whispering in each other’s ears flirting quietly where no one can hear. But also, they’re bantering and they both know that the other person loves them anyway.

Miss Kate Sharma would never dared have actually flirted with a gentleman. She was serious and responsible and she had a job to do. Kate, Viscountess Bridgerton knows exactly how much flirting it’s going to take for her husband to snatch her glass of lemonade from her, drink it himself and stride over to his mother.

“Mother, I’m afraid Kate and I have to leave a little early.

Violet looked a little weary, “Again?”

Anthony didn’t react. “My wife’s feeling a little tired.”

Violet sighed, “Anthony people are going to start to think Kate’s the only person you like anymore.”

Anthony blinked at his mother and then Kate, “Well, no harm in people thinking what’s true.”

Kate sighed as Anthony swept her away, “One of these days you’re going to have to stop blaming me for leaving early. Not entirely what we discussed.”

Anthony scoffed, “I do blame you. You were the one who whispered filth in my ear just now, Viscountess.”

“Oh poor little Lordling Anthony, his wife can stand to be in the same room as him.” Kate teased.

“My wife’s not often standing when we’re alone together last I checked.”

“And she doesn’t want to be standing for long now either.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[scekrex]

Love your writing!!

Can I request an Adam x Lucifer’s Ex! reader? Reader is basically the same rank as Lucifer was (so he’s the same strength as him too) Basically, they split up after he and Lilith got together and gave Eve the Apple. Reader is extremely depressed about it but then he meets one of the humans from Eden, Adam . And they find solidarity and comfort in going through the same/similar situation.

Lowkey giving that one scene from Steven Universe (No idea if you’ve watched/like SU so, if you’re not sure what I’m talking about, I’ll link it here. (If you want, you can probably just skip to the time stamps or watch all of it, either’s fine, but it starts at 2:33 and ends around 3:11

Spoilers for Steven Universe, if you even care.

https://youtu.be/PnlRR0rX_Q0?feature=shared

(The context for the SU scene is ofc different, but just the overall vibe of it is what I mean.) but just 2 people abandoned by someone who was supposed to be their soulmate (Twice for Adam) and them finding love in each other in the end.

(Like, imagine both the fluff AND angst potential.)

Also!! If/After you write this one, I might request a Part 2 of this with angst for the aftermath of EP.8. (ONLY if you’re ok with it OFC! If not, just tell me in your A/N for this one and I won’t send it!!)

I hope you have a great day!!!! 💙💙

Okay first of all: gimme that EP 8 request right now, I need it soooo badly °^° I haven't seen SU but I've watched the scene you linked and it helped to get the vibe right so much, this is a lil short but dragging it out just to make it appear longer felt wrong. I hope you like it though. Also friendly reminder: this is set in Eden before Adam became a douchebag.

I'm a jester and I'm yours, call me your fool

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt (with comfort)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

Eden had always been the place for you to ge whenever you felt sad or upset, it calmed you down, eased your mind, made your thoughts shut up for only a couple moments. Lucifer had betrayed you, you knew that, you also knew that it had been for the best to end things with him before he would take it too far with his wish for free will and with the things that were going on between him and Lilith. And before you even realized how sad that made you feel, to be betrayed, to be replaced by a mortal soul that would never be as pure as you were, you started crying - it wasn’t loud and if someone wouldn’t have paid attention it was also not visible but Adam did pay attention. Lucifer and Lilith had given Eve the apple, the forbidden fruit, how much further would heaven allow them to go? You weren’t sure. What you were sure about though, was the fact that you missed Lucifer, you missed his warmth, his chaotic yet gentle way of handling things, no matter what it was. You missed his creative mind, his joyful character, the love he had held for you that he had never been able to hide. You missed your clumsy blonde little angel - you shook your head, no, he was no longer yours.

And while you tried to sort your emotions out, the brunette human carefully creeped closer, he noticed your sadness and despite the fact that he didn’t know why you were crying, he felt like he understood without knowing the true reason - he had heard them whispering about it. About how Lucifer had left his boyfriend in order to get together with the first woman, his ex wife, Lilith. And while one loss alone had been seemingly impossible to carry, Adam had not only lost Lilith to his former best friend, he had also lost Eve. Eve, who had tried to talk him into eating the apple as well, he had refused to though, he wanted to remain pure, if she decided that wasn’t for her though, then that was her deal and not Adam’s.

Once he had reached you, he quietly sat down next to you, he wanted to take the sadness away from you, a creature as gorgeous and heavenly as yours should not sit in Eden and cry. He wanted to ask you why you were crying, who caused all those tears but he felt like it wasn’t his place to do so - you were an angel after all. Was he even allowed to sit next to you? The first man didn’t know, but he was sure that if he wouldn’t be allowed near you, you would tell him so. Lucifer might be disobeying heaven’s rules, but you? You looked too pure to do so.

You quickly wiped your tears away as soon as you noticed the presence next to you, when you turned your head to look at the person that had decided to take their place by your side, you were quite surprised to see the face of the first man there. “You look so sad,” the brunette hummed as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. Your golden, broken looking eyes met equally broken brown ones and you somehow found comfort in them, even though they belonged to a total stranger. “Yeah,” you softly chuckled at his words, a small smile forced itself onto your lips, “I guess that’s normal when you get dumped, though.” So the rumors had been true, Lucifer had left his boyfriend for Adam’s former wife. He inhaled deeply, “That’s what love brings.” And yeah, he had a point. Love was able to bring joy and happiness, but it could also take those feelings away from you within seconds. Carefully you leaned into Adam’s touch and closed your eyes as you breathed in the scent of the brunette. “A creature as beautiful as you shouldn’t be sad over losing someone like Lucifer though,” the first man continued and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away all remains of your tears. “That’s so easy to say, Adam,” your voice cracked when you said his name and you opened your eyes again, “He was everything.” Adam nodded, he understood, “So was Eve. And Lilith. But sometimes they choose a different path than you do and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

And looking at it that way made you realize that Adam was in the same situation as you were, a situation that tore apart everything just because Lucifer had made a reckless decision. You had lost everything and so had Adam, you were sitting in the same boat, sailing the same ocean of sadness. But now you had found each other, so at least you weren’t sailing alone anymore. “Adam?” you asked quietly as you looked at the first man, making sure you’d get nothing but honesty when your eyes met his, “Can you stay?” And without hesitation the first man nodded, this would not only bring you comfort and take a little bit of the sadness away from you, no, the brunette would also find comfort in this, you would keep his mind busy and that he was very thankful for.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[puzzled-pegasus]

Do you ever just think about how awful it is to be a demigod before you know about it?

I've been thinking about it a lot lately. How much demigod kids and teenagers don't fit in with mortal society. Their mortal parents don't know what to do with them, even if they do care for them immensely. They are labeled as troublemakers, as bad kids, as mentally ill, as freaks and monsters who see things they shouldn't see and have an aversion to authority that they shouldn't have and a strong sense of justice and an inability to sit still, read, play, act, feel normally. Percy got in trouble for getting into fights, for speaking impulsively, he was mocked and spoken down to and expelled from lots of schools who couldn't handle him and he didn't know why until he was twelve years old. Sally wasn't able to tell him why.

Annabeth was the product of her father's relationship with a goddess, and he loved her for a while, but she wasn't a normal kid. When he fell in love with a mortal and Annabeth didn't get along with her or her kids, he chose the mortal side. How could he understand Annabeth's side? She was just a badly behaved kid, while his new wife and children were the normal good ones.

Jason always knew he was a demigod, he was accepted and praised and tons of expectations were placed on him from a frighteningly young age. Part of the reason the others resent him and see him as a sort of golden child is because he was placed on a pedestal and he will never, ever know what it was like for all of his friends to be looked down on as children, to be scolded for things they didn't understand and told that the things they saw and experienced constantly were not real.

Piper was always loved by her father but I think he loved the idea of her, he loved that she reminded him of the beautiful woman he met years ago. He was always kind to her and usually gave her things she wanted, but he couldn't always spend time with her as his job got busier. Piper sensed that her father's attention was occupied by something else, and as he got busier, she felt less supported and stole things and got in fights and her dad didn't know what to do with her after the BMW so she was sent to a troubled teen program where she was bullied for her disabilities and her race.

Leo feared his power because it killed the person he loved the most, and after that, everything in his life was hell. He didn't feel safe anywhere, he didn't have anyone he could trust, and adults saw him as a troublemaker who would never amount to anything.

The books don't emphasize these things as much with any of the other demigods, or maybe Annabeth, Percy, Piper, and Leo are the best examples we have. I just. They're so tragic. They're all my children all of them. I love them and I feel so sad for them

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo hoo #hoo #heroes of olympus headcanon #character analysis #unfiltered thoughts #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #my CHILDREN

[myahfig4]

My Haitani Brothers NSFW & SFW relationship headcons in different timelines

Ran

Doesn't care if his gf style is emos/alternatives, tomboys or girly girls, although I think he has a preference for girly girls.

Likes someone who probably is a bit more mature

Has to get along with Rindou, if Rindou doesn't like her, ran will end the relationship

Likes cuddling during sleep

Someone who stays calm even when fighting/arguing

Takes him a little longer to commit to someone

Likes compliments from his gf

Let's hs gf braid his hair

Likes someone who Can make him laugh

I can see him as both someone who sleeps around, but also I can kind of not see that, he seems to care about his reputation so I don't think he'd want to be known as a fuckboy

I think hes a boob guy, he would want to lay on his gfs boobs when he sleeps sometimes

Daily naps with him

He would keep his gf hidden from the public because he wouldn't want a riverly gang to target her.

He would spoil her.

Would realize he has feelings pretty quickly just wouldn't commit right away

During sex he's a bit gentler, only once in a while would he be rough

He likes when his gf tops him, he can enjoy the view

He's very charming, very quickly gets his gfs parents approval

Likes affection and is affectionate

Bonten timeline might be a bit more of a player but definitely not 24/7, unless he's married or in a relationship

Is definitely a girl dad in bonten and final timeline

During bonten and final timeline When hes in a relationship he would let other girls try to flirt but then laugh or show his ring to them

That man has a big dick, he is tall an lanky an if y'all know anything about tall and lanky men, they are always packing

His dick may be big, but it's a tiny bit skinnier.

In Bonten and finale timeline, would get his kids names and wife's name tattooed on him.

In Tenjiku he would tell the boys he has a gf

During Tenjiku era parties, he would drag his gf everywhere

Would beat the shit out of anyone with his baton if they make any comments about his gf/wife.

Prefers being in the house then in public during Tenjiku era

He's bold

Likes clingy

He says I love you first

Teases his gf/wife a lot

Rindou

Wants a girl who can be his best friend an girlfriend at the same time

Someone who also likes drinking and partying

He would prob stop drinking as much as he does when hes in a relationship

Doesn't care what his gfs style is, he has no preference for emos/alternatives, tomboys, or girly girls

Likes when his gf goes to the gym with him but he won't pressure her into working out

LOVES when him an his gf have the same music taste

During late night car rides, definitely screaming with his girl the lyrics to the music playing

He loves when his gf hypes him up and compliments him when he's DJing and working out

He makes mixes for his gf

Let's his gf sit on his lap when he's making mixes

Likes clingy but also at times needs some space

At first is in disbelief that a girl confessed to him instead of ran

He would put his glasses on top of his gfs head when there's a fight

He is rougher in bed, although the first few times he'll be gentle and once in a while he'll be gentle

He is flexible, best believe he can use those hips and doing lots of positions

Since he's a bit shorter, his dick is average size but he definitely thicker, since he's buff once again he knows how to use his hips

He's more open and public with his gf, he takes her out

Shopping for music cds and dvds

I think he likes matching clothes with his gf

Let's his gf paint his nails

Ran realizes Rindou has feelings for a girl before Rindou realizes, he teases Rindou a lot

I kind of feel like he likes pda

Always has a arm around his gf during parties

Maybe at first keeps quiet about his gf to Tenjiku but eventually tells them, he may be a little insecure that she'd leave him for one of his friends but that's why he waits a bit to tell them but after they know he'll let her meet them

He's a good listener

He may be a little more aggressive during a argument on accident but then quickly apologizes, he doesn't intend to be aggressive

I feel like he's also a gamer, so he plays video games with his gf

Likes cuddling

I think he's a night owl so probably sneaks over to his gfs place in the middle of the night

I can see him being both very bold, but I can also see him being shy and blushing a lot

Definitely is scared to make a good impression when meeting his gfs parents

Lots of play wrestling with his gf/wife and kids

I feel like he would like couples yoga

He wants kids, a boy and a girl

Lots of movie nights

Is an ass guy, although he may also like boobs

During bonten he definitely djs in their clubs and may sleep around a lot, unless he's in a relationship

During Bonten and Final timeline, don't worry about him having wandering eyes, he only has eyes for his gf/wife, if someone flirts with him he will literally ignore her and roll his eyes or go on his phone

I feel like he would take his gf/wife to a club and then take the microphone and tell everyone it's his girls bday

Gets clingy and whiney when he's drunk

Falls in love quickly and easily

Likes reassurance due to his insecurity to being the shadow, younger, weaker and less picked(with girls) brother, although reassurance isn't needed

Rindou probably ha a goofy side

Definitely likes someone who can make him laugh, he may be surprised if his gf shows him her goofy side the first time, then laughs with her

During bonten and final timeline, has his wife/gf and kids name tattooed on him

Would fight anyone who makes a comment about his gf/wife

When it comes to saying I love you. Since I can see him being both bold, and shy, if he's bold then he says it first, if his gf says it first he says it back. If he's shy, he may use song titles or lyrics to indirectly say I love you, if his gf says it first he blushes and may wait a little bit to say it back

#haitani brothers #haitani ran #haitani rindo #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #rindo haitani #ran haitani #haitani x reader #haitanibrothersheadcons #haitani brothers headcons #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Another Interesting Buddie Parallel 👀

So friends I just came across something super interesting by accident and I thought I’d share.

Yesterday I was reading a book called Puck Pact by Kristen Granata. The story is a marriage of convenience that involves a golden retriever mmc who is a hockey player, who happens to also be a single dad to a lovely 4 year old girl. And a black cat fmc who is an art curator. She’s all about sleeping around and one night stands, doesn’t wanna settle down and he’s a complete romantic at heart. Wants to marry for love. But alas a problem arises and he needs to get married to assure he’s left with his dead parents’ villa in Italy since it’s the only thing he has from them.

The mmc, Alex and fmc, Aarya, have wild sexual tension and he’s turned her down a few times bc they wanted different things. He also had to take into consideration his daughter Giuliana. Long story short, he needed a fake wife, she needed money to open her own art gallery. One thing lead to another and boom, they got married. But with that fake marriage came along real feelings. Feelings that they both eventually stop fighting. Now why am I making a post about some random book?

Well as I was reading, I got to a part where Alex gets hit really bad on the ice, his helmet flies off and he cracks his skull on the ice. She is watching the entire thing happen and she loses it, tries to get to him but they take him away. She’s inconsolable, as predictable, and won’t leave his side. But she knows she has to go him to his little girl and assure that she’s taken care of. Remind you guys of anything??

She eventually is the one who tells Giuliana the bad news as she takes it like how a little kid would. Assures Aarya that her daddy will wake up. They even go visit him a few times. Kinda sorta how Buck was the one who felt like it was his job to tell Chris about his father being shot.

The part that really raised my brows is what happened a few days of waiting for Alex to wake up. Alex’s mother figure, who’s also his daughter’s nanny, tells Aarya that he recently changed his will to include Aarya as Giuliana’s legal guardian should anything ever happen to him.

This is the part that made me scratch my head bc it’s…literally the same fucking thing that happened in 911 with Buck and Eddie. Like almost identical even with the wording and shit. And that entire will reveal was meant to showcase them as just being “platonic” best friends. But like here’s a romance novel where the author has incorporated this very scene into a couples own relationship. The couple essentially being the heterosexual version of Buck and Eddie lol.

So all this to say, isn’t it interesting how they keep writing romantically coded scenes for Buck and Eddie, and we know this bc here’s an actual romance novel that has the same fucking scene with a couple, but they’re meant to be best friends. Like how much more proof does one need to see that these two are heavily written romantically and it’s only a matter of time until they actually get together. It’s a love story we’re watching unfold, albeit slowly, but it’s unfolding nonetheless. We just have to be a bit more patient.

#buddie #puck pact #romance novels #I’ve been reading A LOT lately and this was the one book that really made me go hmmmmm wtf #jujus having thoughts #if anyone takes the time to read this just know I’m kissing you on the forehead #911 on abc

[toxic3mmy]

prompt: alex comes home drunk and confesses his love for you

no warnings! just fluff <3

[sorry abt it being so short! just wanted to write a quick drabble]

you were sitting on your bed late on a friday night. it was around 2 am when you suddenly heard a loud crash coming from your living room. you jump up and creep towards the front door with a bat in your hand. your body shook slightly as you walked closer to the door. a dark figure was on the floor laughing. you realized you knew this laugh like no other. it was your idiot roommate alex.

“alex? are you okay?” you ask as you put the bat down and flick on the lights

alex didn’t answer you with his words and instead he responds with uncontrollably loud laughter and at the sound of it, you couldn’t help but smile.

“where have you been, idiot?” you rolled your eyes teasingly as alex finally answered you with coherent sentences

“i was out with the guys… just drinking and stuff ya knowww no biggie”

you steadied his wobbly body as you replied,

“i can tell you’ve been drinking… how much exactly did you drink ‘lex?” you ask a bit worried as alex was falling asleep while standing right in front of you

“i love it when you call me lex *hiccup* it’s so cute y/n/n”

your face began to heat up and you swatted him in his arm playfully as you repeated your question

“how much did you drink?”

“well…. i stopped counting after *hiccup* six? or maybe seven? dunno…”

your eyes widened at his response, realizing that not only was alex piss drunk, but he definitely is going to deal with a terrible hangover the next day.

“okay, c’mon borrachito… let’s get you to bed okay?”

you laugh softly as you carefully lead him up the stairs of your shared home. halfway up the stairs, alex stops in his tracks and looks at you.

“you smell really good… like soooo good”

you roll your eyes again at his drunken words and simply continue to take him to his bedroom. you open the door and lead him into his bed. you bring some water and a few aspirin for him to take when he wakes up and you hear alex mumble something as his eyes were closed.

“hm? what did you say ’lex?”

“i said… can i tell you a secret?”

i laughed at his small almost childish voice and nod before saying,

“yes, im listening”

“but… promise me that you won’t tell y/n, okay? let’s keep it between me and you”

you gulped as you didn’t know how to respond. what if he said something really deep and personal that was meant to be said when he was aware and sober? would he be angry at you? but what if it’s just some dumb secret that isn’t really a secret? it most likely was the latter, given that alex had a history with making jokes at all times no matter if it was inappropriate or not.

“okay… i wont tell y/n”

“PINKY SWEAR!!!” he sleepily held out his pinky and you hooked your pinky to his.

“okay… i really really like y/n… and i think im going to marry her one day, do you think she’ll say yes?”

you froze a bit after hearing what he just said. you continue to tuck him in silently before asking,

“why do you think you’re going to marry her someday?”

“because i love her. she’s my best friend and my other *hiccup* half” alex smiled with his eyes closed

you felt your heartbeat from head to toe. did he really mean this? maybe he was just talking out of his ass, being so drunk and all.

“okay mister romantic, it’s time for you to get some rest ‘kay?” you slowly get up and begin walking towards the door but alex tugged on your sleeve

“stay, please? i wanna cuddle my wife” he mumbled

“okay ‘lex, im here. i’ll stay, but only to make sure you don’t drunkenly choke in your sleep” you chuckle lightly

you take off your shoes and slide into bed next to him. you draped an arm over him and played with his soft hair, watching him smile as he had his eyes shut

“goodnight corazóncito mio” he cooed as he got comfortable and fell asleep rather quickly

“night alex” you whispered

you definitely were having a talk about this with alex tomorrow.

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader

[letsgetrowdy43]

I want to hear more about Hayden’s birth

Okay, purr, so the second Quinn got on the flight to head to Edmonton for his third last game of the season Honey had her two best friends come over and help her take care of Warren because she knew she would be going into labour soon and wanted to make sure someone was there just in case for not only herself but also Warren.

It was kind of expected, but also she was really shocked and scared when she went into labour, mainly because Quinn wasn’t even in the same province and it was all happening so fast. One moment she was organizing the nursery with her one of best friends as the kids played in the playroom, and all of a sudden she just started getting contractions and then everything got really busy really fast. She called Quinn but he didn’t answer, cause he was on the ice, instead she left a short breathy voicemail and two short messages, and then she headed to the hospital.

She was actually pretty fine health-wise, but she was scared and felt really alone while waiting for Quinn. Even though one of her best friends was in the room she just needed her husband and a promise that he was gonna make it on time. Honey called his brothers and her family a few times to tell them that the baby was on the way and they chatted for a bit but then Quinn finally called her back and disrupted their peaceful phone call.

Quinn on the other hand was in a frenzy trying to get home. The second he read his text after doing his post-game interviews he was panicking trying to figure out the fastest route to get home.

He read the short "I'm in labour. Please come home" and immediately started to freak out that he was going to miss one of the singlehandedly important moments of his life. The second she picks up the phone he's like "Please tell me I didn't miss it" Honey just laughs at his slight panic, "Quinn I've been in labour all of an hour and a half, you have time," she laughs but then the laughs turn into tears, "I do need you to hurry up though, I really need you here," she sniffles into the phone which sends Quinn into an even deeper frenzy.

All the other dads in the locker room get it, but also are like "Act like you've been here before my god??" cause he is so all over the place and he has plenty of time to get home in time. He thankfully made it in time, and Hayden was born just a few short hours later.

Quinn definitely cried when he had his first kid, but there was something about having a little girl that had him really emotional, cause she was the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on. Honey had stayed pretty strong on the crying, but watching him interact with his daughter definitely had her emotional, he just kept whispering short "thank you's" and "she's perfect, you're perfect's" to his wife which had her on the brink of tears.

Honey was literally a god, she had the perfect birth and the nursing staff were literal gems and helped her through all of it.

Hayden kind of looks like a blonde carbon copy of Quinn and it's the cutest thing ever, whereas Warren carries a few of Honey's traits, Hayden is just all Quinn.

Warren got dropped off in the afternoon after everyone had had some time to sleep and the doctors and nurses had finished all of the post-birth routines. He was very excited to see Quinn again, squeals leaving his lips as Quinn retrieved him from Honey's best friend, the two of them hugging at the entrance of the hospital before Quinn told him all about his baby sister.

The little boy was a little skeptical because she was crying when he first walked in the room, but the second she was gently placed in his lap it all changed, he kept saying how much he loved his baby Hayd and how pretty she was as she rested in his arms. This had almost every adult in the room in tears as his little hands traced patterns on his sister's head, her eyes closing as she fell asleep in his lap.

it was definitely hectic, but also so cute, and everyone is just super happy to have a healthy baby and mama!!

#thelittlesthughesau!! #quinn hughes #dad!quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb

[redsparrow2117]

"The End of the World is a Product".

I don't normally make....any posts, but the Fallout show, and some of the response to it has me wanting to actually put some words down here. There will be spoilers for the Fallout show if you want to avoid that.

Several people whose opinion I respect a lot have their own thoughts on the show, Amazon making it, and general disappointment with where Fallout as an IP has gone in the several decades it has existed. I agree with a lot of these statements and think that Fallout peaked with New Vegas, and Bethesda's ownership and usage of the IP has been uninspired at best.

That said, I did watch the show. And generally, I liked it. I have some complaints (like, wtf if the Brotherhood even doing? Who is really in charge? The writers *blew up* the NCR, just like that? For....some reason?) The main thing I have an issue with, is the dissonance between the message of the show, and the company that made it.

I think the parts that really made the show were Coop's flashbacks to before the war. I love his character, so much. And from Coop, The Ghoul, I get my dissonance.

We see him interacting with general Hollywood. It's basically the same as ours. Despite what Some People(tm) will say, Hollywood is a tool of the United States Machine. An extension of the country's will. Coop is making a cowboy movie, one of many he has made. He expresses being uncomfortable with his new movie's seeming obsession with killing, not wanting his character to kill the villain when he is begging for his life. The director tells him "people want to see a good man pushed too far." We see later, after the war, Coop made the movie the way the director wanted.

Coop's wife works in marketing, or something like it, for Vault-Tec. Coop likes the idea of the Vaults at first. Save people from the end of the world. Good stuff, thinks Coop. He was in the Marines, fought at Anchorage. He believes in protecting people and his country. So when his wife asks him to do an ad for Vault-Tec, he says yes.

Very quickly, he leaves making movies, and basically now works for Vault-Tec. Has a big party, invites a bunch of his friends, and only one of his acting friends shows up. Says everyone else declined on moral grounds, because they don't like Vault-Tec, and all the other mega corporations working with them or around the world. Coop's friend mentions he sold his voice/a character he created to the company that makes Mr. Handy's, and how everyone and everything is a product now, and embracing that is the only way to make money anymore. "You're a product, I'm a product, the end of the world is a product."

Coop later meets one of his acting friends, Charles Whiteknife, to talk about the party and why he didn't go. Charles brings up Vault-Tec, the mega corporations, and "Fiduciary Responsibility". I never, ever, in my mind would think a Fallout show, executive produced by "Thanks" Todd Howard, would bring that up.

Charles lays it out for Coop: Vault-Tec makes money selling Vaults. If they want to make money, then everyone's fear of the end of the world is really what is for sale. The end of the world is the product.

So no peace talks to calm down the war between the US and China. No safe feeling. They need fear. They want to make money, so you cannot feel safe. We see a prelude at Coop's earlier party: two Vault-Tec executives are talking about heading off those exact peace talks before anything definite is done so quarterly profits go up. Even the president is mentioned as missing, but that could be a kidnapping or a reference to the Enclave.

Coop doesn't want to believe that. Why would his wife work there if that was the case?

We see, as the flashbacks go on, how much she knows, but won't give away. She needs her job so her family can get into "one of the good Vaults". Coop ends up spying on a meeting between his wife, a Vault-Tec exec, and a bunch of major corporations and private entities. A nice cameo set up for big fans. We see West-Tek, Big MT, ROBCO, all of them. Vault-Tec wants them to buy into the Vaults, so they can make money.

So they can control the end of the world.

They think a total monopoly in the post-apocalypse will save the world from war.

Then the real reveal: Vault-Tec, in order to make guarantees on their experimental Vaults, and to make guarantees to the investors, is going to drop the bomb. Maybe not all of them, but definitely start the Great War.

Because it will make them money now, and when the world is over, they can rule over the ashes with a gaggle of experimented-on, traumatized survivors, brainwashed to do what they want, and led by the preserved executives that helped end the world.

"Well, thanks for the spoilers, RedSparrow, but what is the point?"

Well, when people write about the future, like George Orwell did in 1984, or Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451, or even Suzanne Collins in Hunger Games, they weren't really writing about the future. They were writing about the problems they dealt with in their present, exaggerated to make them stand out.

"What happens when the cattle ranchers own half the town?" Charlie Whiteknife asks Coop when they meet at the bar.

"The town burns down."

"Exactly. The ranchers are in charge now."

This isn't really new stuff for Fallout, if you have played any of the games beyond 3,4, or 76. (Hell, 76 tries to act like Vault-Tec are the good guys for some stupid ass reason.)

We now live in that moment. Maybe we didn't when Fallout 1 came out, or maybe it was easier to hide then. At this point, it's nearly impossible to really ignore, and anyone saying that is incorrect or a good thing is just burying their head in the sand to avoid the truth.

Maybe we don't have Vaults, or Vault-Tec, but we have Amazon, selling us everything and grinding employees to dust on vague promises of earning a living.

We have our own ROBCO, and the CEO of our version of ROBCO bought Twitter because his ex left him for a trans woman and is currently trying to sell losers online his idea of a sex bot and shitty cars that rust and explode.

We have social media monopolies that live off of hate-engagement and spreading fear. Hell, the US government is banning social media platforms they can't control, and privatizing things like internet access through Starlink. Elongated Muskrat tried to cut off Ukraine's access to it after one of their generals told him to shut up and stop sucking up to Russia.

None of this is new. I'm probably sounding like your weird boomer uncle online right now.

But your weird boomer uncle doesn't think they will end the world.

But they will.

So here's the dissonance I struggle with: why is Amazon, one of the many companies enshitti-fying everything right now, making a show that tells you the plan?

It's easier to imagine the end of the world, than it is to imagine the end of capitalism, so the saying goes.

But the end of the world is the plan of capitalism. That's the end goal.

And it's wild to me that the Fallout show, made by Amazon, is the one telling us this.

#fallout #fallout spoilers #the ghoul

[lanalvrr]

Lost Letters to a lover

Part 1

Annie Hamilton was Marge's best friend. Currently, they were both saying goodbye to Gale Cleven, also known as buck. It was crowded, people all around saying goodbye to their loved ones. Lots of wives sobbing into their husband's chests begging them to stay alive, many girlfriends, and some parents. Annie was looking around as Marge was doing what most other girls were doing, crying. Annie felt bad, but as she looked around, she noticed a man, a very attractive man, standing alone. No one was saying goodbye or hugging him , she was surprised he didn't have a wife with him. She knew no one was there for him because the men were about to leave and everyone had just arrived. She noticed he was looking around as well, and then they happened to lock eyes. Something about the way he looked at her made her cheeks feel hot. He then smiled and winked at her before turning away and getting on the train.

John egan was waiting for buck as he was saying goodbye to his girl, Marge. No one came and said good bye to him. He looked around for buck then locking eyes with a gorgeous woman. She was beautiful. She had brown shoulder length hair, captivating brown eyes, and red lipstick that matched her perfectly. He smiled at the woman and winked. Knowing he would never see her again made him want her. He didn't even know her name. But yet he was in a trance he needed to know who this woman was. He noticed how she was with buck and Marge. Buck had to have known her.

Once all the men were on the train John had asked for all the details on her. Buck was confused he knew that bucky never wrote to anyone so why did he need all this info.

He found out her name was Annie Hamilton. He liked the way her name rolled of his young. He also found out her and Marge were bestfriends, she was going to college to be a am elementary teacher, and she was 23.

Once Annie and Marge got back to the college, Marge was acting weird. "Why are you acting so weird?" Marge laughed and said "oh nothing just something buck had said." Annie was confused " and your laughing about it now?" Marge laughed and went to change for bed.

That night buck was sitting in his cot and began to write

Dear Annie

You may not know me but my name is John Egan. I saw you today, with Marge and Buck. I must say you are very Beautiful, you have a face hard to forget. I barely know you but I am already in love. Buck told me all I needed to know that you were and amazing woman.

If you wish to not write me back just know you will never leave my mind.

-Major John Egan

About a week later Annie received the letter, she immediately knew who sent it and that made her happy. The man at the train station. The one with no one to say good bye to. She was definitely writing back.

Dear Major John Egan,

Your letter was greatly received and I will say it made me wish I could see your face again. I might have to ask Marge about you to see if your an amazing man.

I noticed you had no one to say goodbye to. Know that I am with you John, I will pray you make it back from you missions every time. I would like to get to know you better. For now I'll start, I don't know how much buck had said about me but I'll take a wild guess. I'm 23, I Major in elementary education, I wish to be a teacher, I love kids, some day I wish to have one of my own, and I also wish to help in the war somehow.

Marge says to volunteer as a flight nurse, but I am far to scared to go up in the those planes. Tomorrow I'm going to put my name on the list to be a nurse. I hope it wont interfere with letters I wish to send to you.

With love Annie

Dear Annie,

I hope you like the photo I added in this letter, you said you wished to see my face again. The camera buck took this photo on was horrible, he took when I wasn't looking. I was also only 22 in the photo. As long as you like the photo than I do too. But I hope that means I get a photo in return, for a Goodluck charm. Your beauty will get me through these missions.

Our base is low on nurses but my guess is they will put you on some base far away. You will probably go with a large group of woman also volunteering.

Since you want to know about me, I'm 24, I'm a major, Major John Egan, and I also wish to have a child some day.

- John egan

Dear John Egan

Your photo has captured everything I remember seeing a month ago. With that I hope you like mine. Me and marges highschool class didn't do senior photos, so we did them for college senior year.

By time this letter reaches you I will probably be on a train going to the base where I have been placed. I will most likely be nervous, not knowing anyone. I will still write to you.

With love, Annie

Part 2

#Spotify #mota #john egan #callum turner #john egan x reader #john egan x oc