#and even told her sister to take her off of her chest so she wouldn't get attached

[yuujispinkhair]

Death's Bride

Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.

Halloween Masterlist 2023

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut Word Count: 14k Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.

It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.

You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.

You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.

A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.

It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.

Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.

The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.

The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.

You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.

He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.

He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.

And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.

Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.

He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.

His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.

There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.

And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.

He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.

And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.

"Are you here to collect souls?"

Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.

His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,

"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."

His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.

But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.

Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.

But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.

"No!"

Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.

"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"

Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.

Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.

He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.

"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."

You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,

"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"

Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.

"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."

Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.

He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.

And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.

"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"

He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.

"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"

His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.

But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.

"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."

He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.

"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"

You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,

"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"

More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,

"You're a fearless one. I like that."

His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.

"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."

You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.

You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.

Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.

But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.

The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.

He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.

You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.

"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."

His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.

Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.

The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.

But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,

"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."

His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.

Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.

You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.

How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.

If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.

By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.

You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.

In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.

But not today.

You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.

That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.

You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.

You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.

There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.

And, suddenly, you remember everything.

The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.

Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.

And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.

And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.

At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.

He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.

There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.

He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.

And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.

He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.

"Ah, I see you are awake."

"What... what did you do to me?"

The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.

He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.

"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."

You nod firmly,

"Yes, yes, of course I remember."

"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,

"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"

Oh.

You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.

"But why am I... naked?"

"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."

So you were right. This is his bed.

"Why am I in your bed?"

He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.

"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"

You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.

You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,

"Yes, my Lord."

"Sukuna."

You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.

"What?"

"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."

He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,

"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."

He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.

You gulp hard.

How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.

But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.

He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.

You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,

"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."

A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.

Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.

From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.

He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.

"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."

You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.

Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.

You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.

You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.

It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.

It is lonely here.

Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.

It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.

You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.

A statement that makes a shudder run through you.

You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.

But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.

And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.

You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.

"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"

His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.

"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."

You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.

You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.

The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.

But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.

It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.

You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."

You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.

The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.

The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.

A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.

It's gruesome. Hopeless.

You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.

A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.

You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.

But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.

This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.

Death's throne.

This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.

A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.

You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.

Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,

"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."

You shake your head frantically.

"No! No, there will be no need for that!"

He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.

"Such a pity."

But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.

You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.

You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.

You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.

It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,

"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."

And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.

You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.

The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.

"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."

The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.

When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.

You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.

No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?

You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.

You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.

He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.

"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."

There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.

He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.

You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.

He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.

He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.

His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.

There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.

You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.

You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.

And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.

You are a good bride.

You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.

Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.

"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"

Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.

"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."

"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."

Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.

"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"

It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?

Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,

"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."

Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,

"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."

It makes sense.

You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.

It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.

That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.

It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.

You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.

You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.

A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.

He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.

Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.

He is beautiful and terrifying.

You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.

Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.

As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.

When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.

His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.

When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,

"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."

You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.

One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.

You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.

When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.

His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,

"You're a good little bride."

You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.

Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.

You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.

Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.

He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.

He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.

You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.

His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.

"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"

The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?

You look nervously at him,

"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"

He blinks at you and shrugs.

"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"

You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.

"I never learned how to read."

Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,

"Follow me."

He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.

You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.

It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.

"Sit."

Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.

You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.

"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."

Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?

At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.

Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.

He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.

Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.

On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.

It is something he demanded from you.

"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."

At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.

But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.

By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.

There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.

It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.

He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.

He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.

In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.

Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.

Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.

Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.

You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.

A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.

You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.

This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.

When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.

You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.

Almost.

But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.

And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.

You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.

You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.

You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.

He smirks at you,

"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."

You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.

Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.

When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.

Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.

"Sukuna, look!"

You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.

You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.

You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.

Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,

"Why... why did you do this?"

His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.

"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"

He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.

Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?

It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.

"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"

"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"

"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"

You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,

"Forgive me, my Lord."

"I told you not to call me that."

You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.

Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.

You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?

You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.

That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.

You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.

"Don't run from me, brat."

A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.

"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"

"I never said that."

"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."

You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.

You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!

Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.

Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.

But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.

"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."

His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.

"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"

His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.

His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.

"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."

You blink at him in utter astonishment.

"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"

He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.

"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."

He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.

"But... But I.."

"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."

Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him. 

You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.

"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."

This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.

"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"

You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.

"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."

Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.

"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."

A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.

You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,

"Will you sing for me again?"

You smile at him and nod gently.

He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.

You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.

You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.

And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.

You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.

He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity. 

Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.

But Sukuna is unrelenting,

"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."

A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.

He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently. 

"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."

He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.

You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.

He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,

"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."

"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"

Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.

He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.

You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.

"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."

Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,

"My bride is not only brave but also smart."

You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.

"Sukuna?"

"Yes, my love?"

"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."

His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, I did."

"Is that what you want?"

"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."

"Then I will do so."

There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.

You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.

One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.

You are Death's Bride.

You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.

And he lets you.

He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!

I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #sukuna fluff #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #tw dark content

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)

Simon who knew he had it in the bag....

for about two hours

Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!

Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny

Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying

Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'

''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."

"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."

two minutes later-

"ya know that's a real low blow-"

"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."

"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."

"I will not do that."

"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."

Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep

Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world

"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."

Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river

Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???

John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old

Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-

"Capn?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"

Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."

"O-"

"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"

"Yessir."

"Did you try Kyle?"

"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."

'"Ah-that's right, that's right."

Silence

"Sir I would like your help."

"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"

Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"

Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house

Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued

Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there

Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.

"Riley."

"Yessir."

"How long is your block?"

"Two kilometers around."

"Two laps."

faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"

"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."

"You don't want to run?"

Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."

"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"

A pause.

"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."

Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep

Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth

Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath

Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it

"Why did mom leave?"

huh?

"What?"

"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"

"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."

"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."

Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner

"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."

"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."

"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."

"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.

"Yeah baby?"

"Never go on away again, dad said so."

You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."

Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone

"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"

With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.

"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."

"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."

"I love you more."

(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #cod x you #cod fluff #ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny mactavish #john price #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #dad simon riley #coco's chaos <3 #coco’s pre k universe! <3 #cod x reader #xfem!reader #x female reader

[veryberryjelly]

gone to shit

pairing : jake peralta x fem!reader

prompt : "can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

your day had been going too well for it to continue.

you had gotten to your local coffee shop before it got too busy, gotten up to the bullpen without getting catcalled by some jackass outside and you and your boyfriend were the only ones in the office which was nice.

it was quiet and the first 30 minutes your day was spent sat opposite jake just talking until your friends and colleagues filtered in through the elevator.

and then everything came crashing down.

multiple people in the holding cell caused the bullpen to be filled with noise which was unsettling.

the coffee you had gotten this morning spilled over your desk and your lap.

your phone had died half way through a conversation with your sister and you knew she wouldn't appreciate it seeming like you hung up on her.

and you had misfiled some evidence and had to talk to holt to fix it.

you hoped he would be in a good mood so this wouldn't end up with you getting reamed out.

unfortunately that was not the case.

while he didnt yell you could sense the annoyance & slight disappointment in his tone as he told you do leave so he could deal with it.

and you did leave.

but instead of heading back to your desk you went to the evidence lock up, heading towards the back corner and sinking down onto the floor, the cool surface bringing you out of your head very slightly.

but it wasnt enough to stop the hot burning tears from falling from your eyes.

this wasnt something you should be getting so upset about, there were people in the world that had it a lot worse than you and here you were crying over the tiniest things.

just because they had happened in quick succession it felt so overwhelming.

you were way too in your own head to notice your name being called quietly into the room.

it was only when you saw a set of shoes infront of you that your attention was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in your head.

your hands instantly lifted to wipe at your cheeks to try and pass it off like you weren't crying.

" woah woah, hey. what's wrong, babe? "

the sound of jake's voice did not relax you as much as usual.

you shook your head, trying to shake off this awful tightness in your chest but that did nothing to calm jake's worry.

he crouched down beside you momentarily before sitting down next to you, knowing that his gaze on you could overwhelm you even further.

his arm dropped to around your shoulders and your head instantly dropped down onto the soft fabric of his hoodie.

" you wanna tell me why you're hiding in the evidence lock up ?" he asked, his fingertips running over the fabric of your shirt.

" everything was just going so well this morning and then i spilled my coffee, the holding cell is so full of jackasses, my phone died and then i misfiled some evidence... it all just went to shit "

his small motions on your shoulder were calming you slightly but not by much, your shoulders were still shaking and you couldnt bring yourself to take a full breath.

jake didn't reply for a few moments but his fingertips kept tracing shapes over your shoulder.

" ok, well these are all easy fixes. rosa has a charger in her desk she'll let you use, the holding cell is thinning out really quickly and you left a spare pair of jeans at my apartment a couple days ago and i brought them to give back to you, so you can change into those. "

how he managed to solve all of your problems so quickly you'll never know, but you were just so grateful.

you turned your body further into his, smiling softly when he wrapped his arm tighter around you and pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head.

" thank you "

" you're welcome, babe " he said quietly.

both of you remained sat on the floor of the evidence lock up for a couple more minutes before jake moved to stand and lead both of you back to the bullpen.

before he could take you outside you pulled him back by his hand, a soft and playful pout resting on your lips.

"can i have one more hug?" you asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

a grin spread across his face.

"aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

you quickly closed the two feet between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head buried against his chest.

another 5 minutes were spent surrounded by weapons in boxes just hugging your boyfriend.

but when you returned to the bullpen, everything seemed a little bit better

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐟𝐢𝐜 #·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚 #jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta icons #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta smut #jake peralta x you #b99 #b99 quotes #source: b99 #b99edit #b99 meme #b99 icons #b99 incorrect quotes #b99 spoilers #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn baby #brooklyn nine nine icons #brooklyn nine nine x reader #brooklyn nine nine imagine #raymond holt #amy santiago #charles boyle #rosa diaz #andy samberg #andy samberg icons #lonely island #peraltiago

[vivwritesfics]

Norris Reader and Carlos together but Norris gets jealous cause he thinks Carlos is taking up his time with his twin and he never gets to see her. Lando jealous of Carlos

from this ask, I'm guessing the reader is Lando's twin? I can work with that (and if this isn't what you meant, just send over another ask and I'll do it again)

Y/N's phone background used to be her sat on her little sisters horse, Flo holding the reins as she walked her around the arena. And then it was her in Lando's racing overalls. And then it was she and Lando stood together, wearing the same short, sparkly dress. Lando looked miserable while Y/N couldn't hold back her grin.

And now her phone background was her boyfriend. Laying in the sun with his dog laying on his chest while he looked at the camera. It was one of Y/N's favourite pictures, but her other favourite picture wouldn't be an appropriate phone background.

On the grid, Y/N used to follow Lando around like a lost puppy. She'd spent years going with her brothers and parents karting events, and, thought she wasn't karting herself, Y/N fell in love with it. She knew she wanted to work in the motorsport industry.

Y/N was at university when Lando got signed for McLaren. She took some time out and followed him for his first season, meeting the McLaren team and getting herself an internship. She didn't drop out of university, instead going on a placement year to complete her internship.

Her internship with McLaren meant she got to spend time with the McLaren drivers. One was her brother; she could see him any time, but the other? Well, sexy spanish men did something to her.

It was just before Carlos signed with Ferrari that they had their first date. Now they lived together.

Lando didn't mind his sister being in love with his best friend. They were cute together, even if Lando did pull a face whenever Carlos kissed her or wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her ass. But he rarely got to see her now and, although he'd never admit it, he missed her.

Y/N had spent the entirety of winter break in Spain, spending time with her husband to be. She was meant to go home, but then Carlos had proposed and... well they didn't leave their bed for a few days. The couple wanted to be around nobody but each other, and, although her family missed her, they accepted it.

But when Y/N and Lando returned to the paddock, Lando couldn't stop himself from saying something. "I rarely get to see you," he said to Y/N as she worked, still for McLaren. "I mean, you didn't even come home for Christmas - you always come home for Christmas!"

"Sorry, Lan," she muttered as she scribbled in her notebook. "But something happened," she held up her hand, showing off the ring to Lando.

Lando who immediately grabbed her hand for a closer look. "No fucking way!" He said, touching the stone. "Carlos actually proposed?! And you didn't tell any of us?!"

"Well, no, I told mum. And I told dad. And Flo, Cisca and Oliver."

"So, everyone but me?"

"Pretty much," she answered, pulling hand away from him.

Lando let out a huff. "So, now that you're engaged, I can't say anything to Carlos about stealing you from us?"

"He's part of the family now, Lan." She lifted her note book. "You have to play nice." With every word she gently hit his head with the notebook.

Lando scowled. And maybe fought Carlos on track. It was just hazing, the sort of thing a big brother did for his little sister (even if he was only a few minutes older).

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

[box-milk]

I'm not looking for forgiveness

Pairings~ Maria Leon x older sister! Reader

Genre ~ Angst

Warnings~ mentions pass substance abuse and character death, short and all over the place.

Disclaimer~ I'm not sure if mapi has any siblings as I'm still new to the football world but for the sake of this we'll pretend she doesn't .

"Mapi please listen to me".

"Y/n believe me when I say I don't want anything to do with you after what you put our family through for 3 years."

The disconnection tone, as well as a lifetime of regret, rang in your ear. You knew your sister's anger was warranted for the lifetime of trauma you put her through.

Mapi was just a teenager when she watched you throw your life away to drugs and alcohol and despite her age, she was the only one in your corner when your parents' inevitability gave up on you. Almost debilitated trying to keep you a float while also pursuing foot.

Even after her big break with FC barcelona, Mapi poured her heart and soul into helping you overcome your obsession, going as far as to pay for therapy, rehad sessions and support programs despite her parents fair warning which she soon regretted when she found out that money was been invested to fuel your addiction.

Completely gutted, she confronted you, but high off your ass you just disregarded her efforts laughing in her face, repeating the ditty as everyone else.

"You can't help someone that doesn't want it mapi."

And that was enough for her to complete leave you to your own demise while painful she had no choice but to harden her heart when it came to you.

°•°•°°•°•°•°°°•°

You're well aware of your sister's feelings, hell your family's feelings towards you, but seeing your sister at least was something that you had to do. You owed her that, at least. So you waited patiently in the parking lot of camp nou waiting for your sister to be done with training.

You sat a while in the blazing sun until you saw the heavily tattooed defender making her way over to her car, which you sat in front of when she's see you her smile immediately melts and her face hardens.

"I told you I dont want to speak to you cause if you're looking for cash for your next fix, forget it."

You shiver lightly at the cold tone, but you knew you deserved it. "I don't need money, maria, it's just something really important i have to tell you."

"Well, save it cause I really don't care."

"I'm dying, maria." You said softly, hoping there was a better way to say it, but when you saw that she would have left without hearing you out, you settled for the raw truth.

"What?"

"I'm dying, and I don't want money or anything just to let you know"

You've never seen so many emotions flash on mapi's face before, and you knew immediately which one it would settle on and braced yourself for what's to come.

"What do you expect you do drugs for half your life and wasted the help I tried to give when nobody else would. Did you think this wouldn't happen?This is your karma y/n, and I hope you take it well cause I've run out of sympathy to give."

The harsh words stung yes, but you took it with a smile and that only added fuel to an already burning fire mapi continued to berate you, and you did nothing but take it on the chin reaching into your backpack pulling out a crumble envelope waiting for her to get everything off her chest.

When you felt it safe to extended your hand with the envelope, hoping she'd take it, which she did before crumbing it up and tossing it to the ground but pushing your body down aswell.

"I hate you with my entire being y/n, and I'm glad I'll permanently be rid of you. Have a good what's left of your pathetic life."

You pick yourself up shakily, watching as mapi's car quickly left the lot before picking up the letter and straightening it out, willing yourself not to cry cause in your heart you knew mapi was right. This is your karma.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Ingrid eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she gathered the mail the next day and saw the crumpled looking envelope she wanted to question her girlfriend about it, but she was out with alexia for the day.

So besides herself, she gently opened the envelope to see a letter written gracefully in cursive before reading and coming to two conclusions. mapi has a sister, and that sister is dying.

When mapi came home that afternoon, she found her girlfriend sitting while reading from a piece of paper that was quickly pushed to her chest wordlessly when ingrid realised she was back.

The shorter of the two brought the paper within eyesight in confusion before she recognised the handwriting and scoff but reading regardless.

Dear Maria,

I understand that I haven't been the best person in the world to our family and to you specifically, but I just needed you to know how sorry I am. I've been sorry for a while now long before I knew what my faith was. I spent months trying to figure out how I would prove to you how sorry I am, but I saw the life you built for yourself and figured it was best if I stayed away knowing how poisonous I can be. I'm sorry map's I really am I wish I would have taken the time when I had it to let you know but that's not the case. I'm in no way asking for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I just wanted you to know that you're 100% free of me and you'll do great things my little star and I'm forever thankful and proud of you.

A loving goodbye,

Y/n Leon."

○●○●○●○●○

An: this was sloppy but I kinda like it.

#woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #maria leon #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon angst

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bob asks you to go out for drinks at the Hard Deck as a thank you for helping out all week, and there's a special someone waiting for you when you get there. After meeting some of Bradley's other friends, the bubble you had been living in bursts, and you're left questioning everything. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You managed to bumble your way through practice with Bob on Monday, mostly running around in your suit and taking care of whatever he needed. Your phone conversation with Bradley the night before had left you with just a few functioning brain cells, so it was a good thing you didn't need to take charge.

In fact, if you were left to your own thoughts for too long, you started thinking about how wet his voice made you. And you kept picturing the photo of his hard cock that you had shamelessly saved to your phone in a locked folder with personal items such as your tax return.

You felt flustered all week, and to make matters more interesting, Molly surprised you at practice on Thursday. 

"I had the day off!" she told Everett, scooping him into a hug when he climbed out of the car. The absence of the Bronco made you frown a bit as you circled your car to where your sister was tickling Everett. 

You kissed her cheek. "We had no idea you'd be here!"

She grinned at you as she sent Everett ahead toward the bleachers. "I have a date tonight," she sang in an obnoxious voice. "With Coach Cute Glasses."

"You do?" you gasped, happy Bob had taken the initiative. 

"Yep. We're going on a little stroll through the park after practice and then grabbing a late dinner."

"Molly!" you squealed, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Bob is so sweet. Do not ruin him."

She turned to look at him out on the ballfield, and a soft smile touched her lips. "I make no guarantees." You and she started walking, and she held your high heels for you as you changed out of them. "Oh, and actually, Bob has something he wants to ask you, too."

"Me? What?" You had no idea what your sister was talking about, but as soon as you got to the bleachers, Bob came over to the three of you as you changed Everett's shoes.

"Hi, Molly," he said softly, and you watched your sister do the unthinkable. She planted one hand firmly on his chest like it belonged there, and she kissed him on the cheek. You watched him turn bright red, and all of the other moms looked like they were about to reach for their pitchforks. 

"Hey, Coach Cute Glasses," Molly said with a laugh that had Bob fiddling with his whistle. "I'm excited for our plans tonight."

Sandra and Tara appeared about ready to rage, looking between you and your sister like the two of you had stolen the most priceless of treasures. But you supposed you kind of had.

When Bob finally recovered, he asked you, "Team Mom? Can I take you out for a drink tomorrow evening as a thank you? I wouldn't have made it through the game last Saturday or the practices this week without your help."

"I'll stay with Ev for you," Molly added, nodding her head. "You deserve it."

"Oh, that's not necessary, Bob," you protested, but then Molly was glaring at you. "Okay, sure," you said, sending Everett out to start warming up. 

"Great," Bob said, and you followed him out to home plate as Molly sat down on the bleachers. "There's a Navy officer hangout called the Hard Deck. You want to meet me there after work?"

"Sounds good. Thanks, Bob."

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

Bradley felt a little dirty every time he pulled up the photos you sent him, but he really enjoyed scrolling through the progression of seeing you in your bra to seeing you bare for him. You were something else. So sexy. So funny. So smart.

It was Friday morning, and he had one more flight simulation to go. And if he skipped lunch, he could probably get home by dinnertime. Bob had mentioned that he was taking you to the Hard Deck for drinks tonight, and Bradley desperately wanted to get back in time for that. He couldn't wait to see the look on Nat's face when she met you.

Bob had also told him about his date with Molly. He gushed about how much he liked her for fourteen messages in the text thread, and Bradley didn't know how Bob managed to pull this one off.

Bradley hit the road for the long drive back to San Diego, deciding to skip changing out of his uniform. His khakis weren't the most comfortable thing in the world, but at least he'd get back sooner. He wound along the coastal roads, passing some ballfields on the way. He was pretty sure Everett would be able to make a real pitch team by next spring, but Bradley was definitely going to have to work on some things with him before then. It was okay, they had almost a year to get him there.

Bradley had also been thinking about what he could tell the kids in Everett's class about aviation during his career day speech. The fact that Bradley was looking forward to that still kind of shocked him.

The sun was setting when Bradley pulled into the Hard Deck parking lot, and he spotted your car right away. Then he spotted you, heading for the entrance in your tight, black skirt and heels.

"Kitten!" he called out the open window, and you spun around to face him with a smile on your face. He quickly found an empty parking space and barely had the Bronco in park before you were there. "I missed you," he said, climbing down and closing his door. 

Your arms were instantly around his neck, and you were kissing him so sweetly. "I didn't know you would be here," you whispered against his lips. Your hand trailed down his chest to play with his pins while you nibbled on his lips. 

"I drove straight through to get back to you sooner, Kitten." That seemed to do something to you as you parted your lips and tasted his tongue.

He turned and pinned you against the Bronco, licking and kissing his way up your neck. "You look hot in your uniform," you moaned. 

"You wore my favorite skirt," he mumbled, and you gasped as he ran his palm down the front of it. You were rubbing yourself against him with your fingers tangled up in his hair, and Bradley was hard as a rock for you. 

"Bradley," you whimpered as he nuzzled his nose down the front of your blouse. He kissed and tasted the tops of your breasts while you scraped your nails along his scalp. You were so sweet. His mind was flooded with thoughts of getting you in his bed with your tight skirt bunched up around your waist and your pussy overflowing with his cum.

He kissed you hard, making the back of your head tap the side window. "Can I take you home, Kitten? Skip the bar?"

You eyed his face in the dim, dusk light. "Yes, but I need to have one drink first," you promised him, running your fingers along his mustache. "I told Bob I'd meet him."

Bradley groaned and kissed your fingertips and then your palm and the inside of your wrist. "Just one drink. Then I get some alone time with you."

When Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist, you snuggled in next to him, kissing his bicep just below his uniform sleeve. "I can't believe you wear this out in public," you muttered, running your fingers along his pins again. "I think I changed my mind. Let's leave now."

Bradley chuckled and held the door open for you, guiding you inside the noisy bar with his hand at your lower back. "One drink," he reminded you. "Then you're mine, Kitten."

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

You felt warm and flushed all over as Bradley guided you through the crowded bar. There were people in uniforms and some in civilian clothes, and you spotted Bob near the pool table as he waved to you. 

"Team Mom!" he announced as you and Bradley neared him. "And Rooster, you made it back," he added, fist bumping Bradley. You had never heard anyone use his call sign before, and it made you laugh. 

"I forgot your name was Rooster," you said, smiling up at his face as he lazily rubbed your back. "What's yours, Bob?"

You watched his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "It's actually just Bob."

"Oh," you said, thoroughly confused as you were immediately introduced to a beautiful woman who went by Phoenix.

"So, she's the Team Mom," she said with a devilish grin in Bradley's direction. "I think that would be your aviator call sign. Team Mom. Also, I'm still pissd you don't have another sister." Phoenix sighed and shook her head at you.

You laughed as she offered to buy you a drink, but then Bob stepped in. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?"

Bradley leaned down and kissed your temple and murmured, "Expensive champagne." He was making your tummy feel warm, the way he was being so affectionate in front of his friends and colleagues. You turned to look at him and he kissed you softly. 

You pulled away, suddenly feeling shy; five more minutes in the parking lot with him and you'd have been fucking on his backseat, but apparently this was too much.

"I'll have a beer. Thanks, Bob," you managed, cuddling up next to Bradley's side as Bob headed to the bar. 

"Hey, Rooster. You playing us a song tonight?" drawled a handsome blond man who was smirking at you. 

Bradley glanced down at you. "You like Great Balls of Fire?" he asked.

You gave him a strange look. "As long as you're talking about the song and not some sort of medical condition, then yes, I do."

Bradley started laughing with his head tipped back, and you grinned as the handsome blond laughed, too. "You're funny. My name's Jake," he said, shaking your hand as Bradley meandered a few feet away to sit down at the piano. 

You introduced yourself to Jake and listened to the tinkling sound of the keys as Bradley warmed up. You had no idea he was musically gifted, but you were excited to hear him play. He was probably one of those severely annoying people who was good at everything. He started playing the song, and even his singing voice was good. 

"So, how do you know Rooster and Bob?" Jake drawled, drawing your attention back to him just as Bob handed you a pint of beer. 

You thanked him and took a sip. "My son is on their tee ball team."

"How old's your kid?" Jake asked, smiling at you in a way that had you a little flustered. 

"He's almost seven." You were still distracted by Bradley, and now he was looking at you as he played. He winked only at you, even though he was starting to draw a crowd.

"I love kids," Jake informed you. "Hey, when you're done that beer, let me buy you another one."

"Oh, okay," you agreed, and then Bob called over to Jake.

"Come on, Hangman. Leave our Team Mom alone!"

Jake looked at you with renewed interest as you drank your beer. "Oh shit. So you're the Team Mom. I've heard a lot about you."

You were really surprised. "You have?" you asked as Bradley finished playing the song. You clapped for him along with everyone else, and then he was making his way back over.

"Yeah," Jake replied with a laugh. "You're the hot mom that Bradley is never going to date, because moms aren't his thing."

Your smile immediately vanished from your face. "What?"

Jake waved his hand in the air while he sipped his drink, as if you were supposed to know exactly what he was talking about. As if you weren't immediately on high alert and having a difficult time breathing. "You know...too much baggage. Complicated. Not worth the aggravation. That sort of shit."

You were frozen in place, barely able to speak. "He said that?" Your voice sounded tiny and your throat was tight. You ran your fingers along your neck, trying to make sense of this.

"Yeah, he went on and on the one night we were all hanging out."

Bradley had told his friends he would never date you. He had said you were too complicated. He told them you weren't worth his time. And now he was walking your way, smiling at you like you were still expected to go back to his place after this and let him fuck you. That had been his plan the entire time.

"But listen," Jake added. "I don't feel that way at all. If you're interested, I'd love to take you out to dinner." You thought maybe Jake was a little drunk, because he couldn't stop talking and then he reached out and stroked your cheek with his knuckles.

You gently grabbed his hand and guided it back to his side, just as Bradley rushed over with an irate expression. 

"The fuck?" he asked Jake.

"Hey, it's cool, man. I get it," Jake replied. "She's so hot, I can't believe you won't date her just because she has a kid. But good for you for getting her to agree to come out tonight. No reason you can't enjoy her."

You gasped and took a step away, knowing you needed to escape now with your dignity intact, but Bradley was immediately focused solely on you.

"Kitten."

You handed your pint glass to a random person, and then you were stumbling over your own feet, trying to get to the door as quickly as you could. Time seemed frozen, and you felt like you were going to throw up as you rushed past people who were happy and laughing. You could vaguely hear Bradley's voice behind you as you tried to get away. 

Once you were outside, you sucked in a deep breath of the salty air and fumbled in your pocket for your car key as you started running.

"Kitten!" he yelled, and you could hear the crunch of his boots on the gravel, and you knew that you would never be able to outrun him. So you skidded to a halt and rounded on him instead. A lot of things in your life were scary, like paying your bills, and making sure Everett had everything he deserved. But you would not be too afraid to stand up for yourself. You would not let another arrogant asshole determine your behavior for you.

As Bradley stopped abruptly in front of you, his face was illuminated by a street light, and you hated him for being so handsome. "Kitten. I can explain," he promised, holding up his hands in surrender. His brown eyes were wide as he searched your face.

"Did you tell your friends I'm too complicated to date?" you asked, voice steady as you stepped into his personal space.

"Yes, but-"

You stomped your foot, effectively silencing him. "Did you refer to my son as baggage?"

"Yes, but Kitten, I can explain."

You slapped him hard across the cheek, but his gaze never wavered. 

"I don't need you to fucking explain anything to me!"

"Please." He was pleading, his chest rising and falling as his expression was filled with panic. "Kitten."

"Stop calling me that. I can't believe you were just leading me on for fun."

"I wasn't," he insisted. "I wouldn't do that."

You just scoffed at him and shoved his chest. He grabbed gently for your hands, but you yanked them away and took a step back as tears filled your eyes. "I can deal with getting played, but not Everett! His dad already bailed on him, and I won't let him feel unwanted by anyone ever again! We come as a fucking package deal!"

Bradley was running his hands through his hair in dismay. "I care about both of you." His voice sounded choked up, and you wanted to believe him, but now you knew better.

You jabbed him in the chest with your index finger. "You're a liar," you told him as your tears finally spilled over. "Stay away from us outside of tee ball practice."

"Kitten." He tried reaching for you again, but you backed away, bumping into a parked car which made you cry harder.

"I need to figure out how to deal with Ev," you sobbed. "And don't you dare ever speak to me again." 

You ran for your car as you tried to take gulps of air into your burning lungs, swiping away the tears that were obscuring your vision. It took you a few tries to get the key in the ignition with your shaking fingers, but when you did you cranked the engine and pulled away. You could see Bradley in your rearview mirror as he dropped down into a squat in the dark parking lot with his head in his hands. 

The short drive back to your house was filled with the sound of you sobbing, and you stumbled out of the car and up to your front porch. You leaned against the railing and tried to compose yourself. But this was where you and Bradley had been making out less than two weeks ago after you had one of the best orgasms of your life. So you paced the length of your porch instead, wiping your tears and making sure your breathing was even. Because even though it was late enough now that Everett was surely in bed, you were going to have to contend with Molly.

"Hi," your sister said as you walked inside. She was snuggled up on the couch reading a book, but when she got a good look at you, she jumped up. "What happened? I thought maybe you'd be staying out later? Or all night since Bradley is back."

You pressed your lips together to try to prevent them from shaking, but Molly knew you too well. She was across the room collecting you in her arms immediately. When you started crying again, she didn't stop you, rather she just let you get it out of your system.

Finally, you were able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

Your sister's loud gasp was vindication to your soul, but you didn't like the price it came with. "That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," you said softly against her shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said, but you grabbed her tighter. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

Molly kissed your cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

Molly helped you out of your black skirt, something you had hoped Bradley would be doing just a few short hours ago. And then you washed your face and brushed your teeth while shaking your head at your puffy eyes in the bathroom mirror.

You ended up climbing into bed in your bathrobe while Molly plugged your phone in. "You have thirty missed calls and seventeen text messages from Bradley."

"Ignore him," you whispered, pulling your covers up to your chin. "What am I supposed to do about Ev, Molly? He's so attached. Oh my god, I can't believe I did this. I knew better!"

"Shh," she replied, climbing into bed next to you. "I'll sleep over and take him to the game in the morning. And I'll deal with everything."

Eventually your exhaustion took over, and you fell asleep next to your sister, holding her hand in yours. Your last waking thought was a feeling of thankfulness that you had only mostly fallen in love with Bradley. 

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

Wow, Jake. I mean, he's not wrong, but still. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 13

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[harrieatthemet]

Newborn

It's a miracle he hasn't chewed off all 10 fingernails yet.

this is long but whatever!

There's an abundance of nerves so dense it may as well have it's own seat in the Range Rover; plenty enough to go around with seconds for anyone interested. With the stereo at a whopping maximum volume of 2, and unbearably loud fidgeting in the driver's seat, you're well versed enough to know something is just eating away at him.

"The only thing louder than your nail biting," you tease from the backseat, "is the sound of your heart beating in your chest."

You watch his eyes briefly flicker their attention to the mirror, greener than ever as they widen a bit to catch a steady glimpse of your reflection from the backseat. And all he lets out is a quick sigh before he tightens the grip of the wheel (10 and 2, the entire time), eyes out of your peripheral vision as quickly as they came in. He only waits to nervously shift his weight in his seat for the umpteenth time until he gets to another red light.

"S'it bothering you," his tone is so flustered and apologetic, you almost feel bad for joking, "m'sorry just, y'know, nervous."

For the first time since the hospital departure, he turns in his seat to fully face the second row of the car. He's envious of you; so calm and collected, radiant with joy even after a grueling delivery. And he sucks in a calming breath when he trails his glance to the tiny baby snuggled sweetly into the car seat beside you, swimming in her baggy pink flower pajamas and endless mountain of hospital-gifted blankets.

He's done this ride before. He remembers it so fondly as, easily, unarguably, singlehandedly the best drive of his entire life. And it feels like it was only yesterday when he was bringing Angel Baby home for the first time. It's exactly why he's so fucking nervous.

"Har, we're good," and as you patiently insist, you're adjusting the frilly white blanket on the newborn beside you, "but you're driving 9 miles per hour. I literally just saw that woman on the scooter pass us for the third time."

"Hey she's bloody fast on that thing, you saw her!"

"Pretty sure she's missing a wheel," you snicker, "so what's actually bothering you?"

He doesn't want to say it. Like, he really doesn't want to say it. Not just because you both have already discussed it over a dozen times in the past week alone, but because he doesn't care to tarnish what should be a wholesome moment.

So instead he says nothing. Not for a long time, he doesn't let the silence linger but for a minute he says nothing; he barely breathes. When your hand reaches out though, and finds it's way to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze, he releases that breath before letting the words soon follow.

"What if she hates 'er," and the way he's blurting it out tells you he's been sitting on this for hours, "or worse, what if she hates me and-and, I dunno, (Y/N) m'nervous. Y'remember wha' she said!"

A very shallow sigh of disapproval innately makes it's way passed your lips. It isn't because you're annoyed with him. The guilt is natural and, by nature, he only ever wants angel baby to be happy. But it's stemming from the fact that you're only physically capable of providing so much assurance. Not to mention he practically begged for another baby.

"Harry she's two," you remind him, "she told your mother she didn't want legs so she wouldn't have to go for a walk."

On the other hand, though, the imminent addition to the family was not a hit for everyone in the household. Angel baby did not take kindly to the impending addition. And you know exactly the incident he's referring to. Sure, she's definitely well immersed into her terrible two's stage, and you'd like to chalk it up to that. But she's never been keen on sharing Harry with anyone, even you sometimes. So the idea of now having to share him with a sister presents itself as an incredibly challenging hurdle.

"She'll be fine," and as you say it as soothingly as possible, you can see he begins to ease up "she's got a built in best friend now."

Those exact words are playing on a loop the rest of the trek home. Each stoplight that brings him closer to the front gate of the house, he's mentally psyching himself up; the best thing to say when he walks in, how to ease her into the role of being a big sister, the right way to bring you in with the new baby. He's so consumed in concocting the perfect delivery that he doesn't even realize he's already pulling past the open gates.

"This is your house," and already he's gone full blown with the baby talk, "y'live here with me 'n mummy 'nd a sister who... might not like you very much fo' a bit."

Though he masqueraded it with a sweet, gooey, charming little baby voice, your squinting eyes are loaded with displeasure so he understands it was not well received.

He takes a moment before opening the door; adjusts the hospital bags in his arms, takes in a breath before allowing it to roll out, lays a gentle kiss to your temple. Then he decides to stretch out his arm to press his thumb on the door handle.

It's a bittersweet moment. He's itching to see angel baby after two long days with out her. And he knows there's family, both yours and his, waiting eagerly to get their eyes on their newest 8 pound family member. But his heart sings when he hears the pattering of a familiar set of bare feet down coming from down the hallway. Immediately, he drops the bags in the foyer to make his way out from the front entrance and down towards the living room.

"Go see m'love," he hears Anne coo sweetly, so he rounds the corner, "who could tha' be?"

For the moment being, despite the fact it's fleeting, he tables the introduction to the newborn once he lays eyes on angel baby. Well aware of the fact you're just in the next room over, a brand new bundle of joy toted in your arms, he feels a surmountable sense of joy now that angel baby's in eye shot; hair unbrushed and a mess from what one would assume was a successful nap, head to toe in a watermelon printed pajama set, eyes wide with sheer joy and arms outstretched to intercept him. To which, he eagerly accepts as he crouches down to let her crash into his chest before sweeping her up.

"There's m'girl," he hums, hand tucking her hair from her face before showering her with kisses, "how's m'angel, hm? Still sleepy from y'sleepover this weekend? Missed me as much as I missed you?"

He can almost feel his heart melt to mush in his chest as he cranes his neck back, listening in awe as angel baby spares no detail in her weekend with both sets of grandparents and Gemma. Most of it is borderline incoherent, though her elaborate expressions and dramatized recounts of events has him entranced.

"Where's mommy?"

"Oh yes" Anne's near double over in excitement, inviting herself into the conversation as she rubs small circle on angel baby's back, "where's (Y/N)? M'about ready t'explode, m'so excited!"

There it is again, that nervous feeling bubbling up in his stomach again. He's excited too; wants to show off the adorable little baby that completed his growing family, watch his mother and sister fawn over her. But he doesn't want to blow it on his first go. Most importantly, mere forethought of angel baby feeling like second place is enough to make him wanna start crying.

So he's going to try to ease angel baby into her new role as a sister while she's still fresh out of a nap and giddy with excitement. And while he still has the balls to actually go through with it.

"Mummy's here poppet," his tone is so sweet and fragile it'd break from the weight of a feather, "n' I think she's got something really, really special for you."

An animated expression paints itself across her face; eyes wide and doe-like as they twinkle in giddiness, her smile tripling in size. It's only a matter of seconds before she's writhing in Harry's arm, desperate to break herself from his grip to place both feet back on the floor.

There's no reason he should feel this guilty and this nervous. He's hot on angel baby's heels as she turns her skips into a light jog, traipsing down the hallway towards the front entrance sitting room as fast as her short legs will allow.

Anne's awing is low in tone, hands flying to her chest as she delights in the sight she's taking in. And as she goes to get a better look, making idle chatter with your parents and gushing to Gemma, Harry's eyes are darting back and forth as though he's waiting for angel baby to go right into orbit.

Momentarily, he anticipates an alternative outcome. Angel baby runs right up to you with arms wide open. He does that thing that gets him every single time - where she melts into the kisses you deliver all over her face. She hasn't killed the newborn yet, or thrown herself to the floor in existential despair. That's gotta be good start.

"Hi bubba, I missed you so, so much" you place a kiss to her forehead and she smiles contently, completely ignoring the baby in your arm, "but I have someone who wants to meet you!"

She squeals with joy, jumping up and down, "A puppy!"

"No baby," you laugh, and Harry swears he's about to spin off the fucking planet, "even better, a baby!"

"A baby dolly!"

She's either choosing to disregard the fact that the baby perched in front of her is 100% a real human being and not made of plastic, or she's genuinely oblivious. Regardless, Harry's panic is quickly becoming your panic. Because now you're both teetering on anxious, though Anne is swift to pick up on it and comes to aid.

"No poppet, not a dolly," Anne mewls, crouching down beside angel baby in front of your lap, "s'your baby sister. Mumma and Daddy brought y'a real sister."

And now it's fully set in - sheer panic. He's quick to jump into action though.

In quick strides from across the other side of the room, he very gently inserts himself beside you on the couch. You aren't catching on to what's to come and he chalks it up to you still being a little tired. Why wouldn't you be? He doesn't want this to go south, so he shifts himself on the couch, knees spread a bit so angel baby can lean on his leg and look over at the . If anyone could be the buffer here, he thinks he's the best bet.

Harry coos, "Say hi t'your baby sister!"

"No"

You side eye your husband beside you, who is staring at angel baby as though he's trying to to mentally coerce her into actually wanting to like the infant. He doesn't know where to take it from here. Angel baby is so viscerally displeased and uninterested at not just the concept of a sister, but the literal physical sister sitting inches away from her face.

"Dunno if that I love my big sister onesie seem t'be working." Gemma cracks in attempt to lighten the mood.

"No?" Harry repeats, though soft, but with the undertone of frantic as he glares at his older sister, "What do y'mean, button? She's really nice, 'nd

"My daddy!"

"Oh I told you," Harry's voice is a hushed squeak as the internal panic collides with irreconciable guilt "(Y/N) I told you!"

He can't imagine things getting worse than this. Until, of course, it does. Because as soon as the infant yawns and squirms a bit, Harry reaches over to your lap on instinct to adjust the hospital cap still clad to her head. And that was enough to get angel baby to strike. She leans right over alongside Harry with her fingers spread and palm flat, going to give the baby a shove before dominantly announcing another 'my daddy.'

A slew of gasps and stern no's come flooding out by all your familial spectators, even including yourself as you angle your body away from your 2 year old with a vengeance. Harry's stomach has completely flipped upside down, especially when angel baby bursts into tears and collapses to the floor.

The temper tantrum has ensued; she's a puddle at Harry's feet, back flat against the multicolored sherpa carpet as she rips out wails that could shatter every glass flower vase throughout the first floor. And naturally, it sets off some cries of distress from the new baby. In a second Harry might join them both.

"Jesus Christ," you exhale quietly, "this is fucked."

Your mom, noble as ever, does her best to step in and peel your daughter off the floor to bring an end to the (literal) swan song. Even now you have to admire the theatrics and flare for drama. She's truly emulating her father.

Her father, who is in an isolated frenzy in his attempt to asses every possible way to rectify this nightmare. Harry's not afraid to go low and opt for the last possible resort.

"Button," he exclaims, like he's just conjured up the best idea of his life, "she got y'a gift! A super big, really fun, totally awesome gift!"

The wailing comes to a slowed stop before an altogether halt. With eyes still watery and cheeks stained with tears, she peels herself up from the floor in what feels like slow motion until she's level with Harry. And she looks up at him with those eyes and that look - the one that you know will have Harry in the palm of her little hand in a matter of seconds.

"A gift?" she says it through a sniffle, "Like.. a barbie?"

She sniffles a few times more in an attempt to collect herself and, God, Harry can't help but fold, "Four barbies!"

And he doesn't care that your face shoots him one of those 'we should discuss this first' looks because she's finally reeling in the crying. And she's finally starting to take to the idea of another baby to share the spotlight with because she goes to lean on your knee now - right next to the baby as a show of solidarity. That's a win to him, even if he had to get there with shameless bribery.

"Harry," you whisper sternly, "remember.. about the gifts... and not spoiling her."

It's like talking to a wall, because he doubles down, "And a new dream house! If y'really sweet t'her, maybe baby sister will buy you tha' little pink limo for 'em too."

"Harry!"

"What?" He shrugs, but quickly evades your glare, "th'limo l'look great with th'house! 'Nd they can't walk everywhere!"

#harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #harry fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry blurb #harry styles one shot

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Back to December

Summary: When you arrive home, you're confronted with what you feared to be true. Tommy reassured you it couldn't be, it'd never be again but how can he deny you of what you witnessed with your own eyes. What could he do, when his wife won't come to an understanding that he would never put his family at risk like that and it was all a misunderstanding.

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, a lot of shitting on Grace, happy ending

Loosely based off "Back to December" by Taylor Swift

I'm so glad you made time to see me How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while

The snow was coming down in heavy spurts outside, as the wind blustered throughout the air. You were sat at your kitchen table at your new temporary apartment watching the storm through the window as you sipped on your tea awaiting for Thomas to arrive to sign the papers.

December had passed, and now it was a new year, lonesome for you to say the least as you were trying to adjust to your new life on your own. The children were on rotating weekends with the both of you so it would be even, but you were sure they were having a hard time understanding why their mom and dad were no longer in the same house together. This weekend was Thomas’s and he had arranged for Polly to watch the children until this meeting was over which you were hoping would be sooner rather than later.

Seeing Thomas pull into your driveway, you poured another cup of hot tea and placed it on the opposite end of the table. Hearing him knock at the door you didn’t bother to get up and waste your energy for him so you shouted for him that it was open.

When he walked in, he was wearing a navy blue suit, a black trench coat draped over his shoulders. He had bags and dark circles under his baby blue eyes, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

When he entered the kitchen to where you were, with the papers sitting out with a pen he looked defeated. He couldn’t help but take in your beauty as your hair flowed freely and the sweater you were wearing fit your body snuggly while your feet were covered in fuzzy socks.

“You look lovely.” You nodded to yourself without thanking him and extended your hand for him to take his seat across from you.

“How’s your family been? I sent them a gift for the holidays, did you get my card?” Crossing your arms insecurely, you felt yourself begin to curl in on yourself as you brought your knees closer to your chest. Tommy believed this could be fixed, but you wanted him out of your life for good and it agitated you that he was still going at all lengths to win you back, and to make things worse every one in your family was telling you to go back, and didn’t understand why you would leave a man who cares for you very deeply and treated you well. You felt alone, no one was on your side. Your mother continuously told you to forgive him, your sister would make comments about how stupid you were for wanting to leave such a handsome, charming man that had money.

“Yes, Thomas I got it.” He winced to himself quietly. Ever since everything happened, you wouldn’t call him Tommy, you wouldn't call him the sweet nicknames you usually did. It made him feel like a stranger to you now, not of importance.

Your guard is up and I know why

Because the last time you saw me Is still burned in the back of your mind You gave me roses and I left them there to die

Tommy watched you painfully, your guard was up and he understood why, he was the reason. If he had just not let her into the house, everything would be okay, you marriage would still be in tact. It’d be wrong of him to not take the blame for this, his words meant nothing to you, and he wished they had. All of Birmingham knew of his relationship with Grace, she had always been a heavy weight on your shoulders, more-so because she had appeared in town again and Tommy told you there was nothing to worry about, and you had believed him. He took a sip of his tea, trying to find words to make you understand his point of view.

“I know what I’m here for, but I’m not signing our love away until you hear me out, please.” You scoffed in response and pushed the papers closer to him. He still didn’t pick up the pen.

Tommy didn’t understand, he’d never understand. From what you’ve heard around town and from fellow acquaintances of his, he was always the heartbreaker. You had just thought that you would have been the one that mattered to him, you thought that he was different than the rest and he just wasn’t given love, or affection as he should have been. The five years you had been married you never would’ve expected you’d be sitting across from Thomas in this situation.

“I’m going to turn the heat up, and start another pot of tea if you’d fancy more.” Tommy nodded as you walked off.

Entering the family room, you glanced at the roses he had, had delivered to you after that dreadful day. You didn’t want to start over, you didn’t want to move past Thomas but the image of that day still burned in the back of your mind.

~ Your pov ~

Pulling into the driveway, I had just finished an outing with Ada and I was exhausted, the girl could shop fo days. It was very generous of her to offer to watch the kids for the night, after all they had been missing their auntie. I was hoping Frances already had dinner made because it was an understatement to say I was starving.

Opening the door, I froze in my tracks. I was blinded by what I thought was impossible, by what he promised me was not going to happen.

I stood there watching as my husband’s lips intertwined with Grace’s, her arms wrapped around his masculine body that I thought was mine.

Who was I kidding? Grace was beautiful, and she was everything I could never be for Thomas. I lacked natural beauty, elegancy, and just simple etiquette at times. I could never compete.

He looked at me with panicked eyes when he pushed her off of him. I now knew where I stood, second place as usual. I didn’t need to say anything to make up my mind as I dropped my possessions to the ground and exited the house, I once called home.

Stupidity, and shame flooded over me, and I refuse to give Thomas the power to try to con me into staying but I couldn’t stop myself from turning and screaming at him.

There he stood having the audacity to look at me doe eyed, acting like he was scared to lose me. I should’ve listened to everyone who told me he would never be over her. He didn’t chase after me when I backed out of the driveway in tears while my body was trying to decide if it felt more sad or angry.

~

So this is me swallowin' my pride Standin' in front of you, sayin' I'm sorry for that night And I go back to December all the time

Returning to the kitchen, you opened your book and impatiently waited for him to sign and get out. Thomas took that as a sign you would not be hearing him out, so he decided to take matters into his own hands per usual. Grabbing the book from your soft hands, he slammed it closed, and tossed it to the side. “Y/N. I am telling you. I did not fucking kiss her. She kissed me and-“

“So that makes it okay that she was in our fucking home, does it? What difference does it make? Why was she in my fucking house Thomas! Why did-“ Thomas stood up out of frustration, pointing at your front door.

“She let herself in! I was upstairs, gathering laundry from the childrens rooms for Frances! When I heard the door fucking open, I grabbed my fucking gun and went downstairs and was blindsided with her in our fucking house! I tried kicking her out, and when you pulled in, she fucking kissed me when she heard your fucking car door close!” When he noticed, you were beginning to cry, he patted his suit down and took his seat once more, now feeling bad for yelling at you. He let you have a moment, he would’ve tried to soothe you, but he didn’t as he thought that would make things worse. When you were calm, he spoke once more.

“I’m truly sorry Y/N for that evening. I wish you had been there before she was, so you’d believe in me that I’m not lying to you.” You scoffed, in disbelief that he still would not confess.

“Thomas just sign the papers, please.” He hesitated before moving, contemplating in all the ways he could have handled this better. Slowly, he picked up the pen and begrudgingly signed on the dotted line. He slid the papers over to you slowly, and gently and you couldn’t help but notice his fingers shaking. “Thank you.” He nodded unwilling full. He removed himself from your house, when he tried to hug you goodbye you stayed in your tracks, looking away from him. He understood and excused himself.

~

Tommy’s pov

~

“What the fuck do you want Grace.” Slowly she approached him with lustful eyes. “You know what I want Thomas. I want to pick up where we left off my love.” She placed her hand on my cheek, and I felt nothing.

Grace was a chapter in my life, that had now closed, and I didn’t intend on extending it. I grabbed her wrist, throwing it to the side and pointed directly at her.

“No, no. You don’t get to fucking do that, what gives you the fucking right, eh? You were the one who lied to me, spied on me. That wasn’t love Grace. I’m happily married and I’m beyond grateful it’s not to you.” The sound of a car door closing outside caught both of our attention.

My wife was home.

My love.

Panic set in as my jaw clenched, I felt stupid for not kicking her out, but what was I supposed to do? Aim a gun at her.

I knew how Y/N felt about Grace, and I had told her everything about our relationship in the past. Now here I am, standing in my own god damn living room in my own bloody god damn mess. I was hoping to have her out by the time she had arrived back home.

“Grace, you need to-“ Before I could finish my sentence, Grace’s hands were on both my arms, pulling me closer as her lips clashed into mine.

“Honey I’m-" At that moment, I heard the door to our house close and pushed the conniving whore off of me, but I watched as the smile on Y/N’s face dropped in an instant.

Now here I was standing in a living room, looking like a complete ass. “Y/N, honey. It’s not what it looks like I-“ She hadn’t let me finish.

She shook her head in disbelief and dropped everything in her hands onto the floor, before exiting the house. I ran outside after her, and I didn’t look back to see if Grace had followed.

“Y/N! I-“ She had turned around quickly and strikes me across my face. That’s when I knew, I was going to lose the love of my life.

“5 years! 5 years and none of it mattered! Our beautiful children! The house we bought together! All over what! Huh!? Some irish whore who didn’t give a fuck about you until she had your money, and then moved onto the next!” I stayed quiet and I could feel my eyes begin to swell with water, as my body trembled. I followed her eyes that were staring a deathly hole into Grace and looked back to my heartbroken wife.

I would never put my marriage or my kids in the jeopardy of driving them away. If it weren’t for Y/N and our kids, I’m not sure my life would have any meaning. Whatever I said, no matter the truth or a lie I knew it would mean nothing to my sweet Y/N and I watched as she got into her car, driving away from me and our fortress we built together.

~

The drive home, Thomas cried. He had lost everything, once again Grace wins. He had his brothers take care of getting her out of town and they had threatened her if they see her again they will not hesitate to put a bullet through her head for ruining Thomas’s happiness after it took him so long to move on from her.

When Polly dropped the children off it was late which Thomas was partially grateful for because he was mentally drained. He thanked Polly and tucked the three of them into bed, kissing them on the forehead endearingly.

Walking into his room, he looked at the clothes you left behind that were scattered throughout the room. It had become routine for Tommy to sleep with what he had left of you, a different article of clothing every night. He took his place in bed and layed down, clutching his pillow and the sweater he had bought you in his arms, breathing in what was left of your scent.

When he went to sleep that night, he had slept in a bed of tears, once again. The only thing that brought him comfort was that you allowed him to take care of your children and to see them still. He just wished he handled the situation in a better manner, and he wouldn't have lost you.

Maybe this is wishful thinkin' Probably mindless dreamin' But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

-

The next morning, you were dressed and ready to go turn in the papers. The brisk air of winter sent shivers down your spine as you were approaching the door to the courts clerk office. You were stopped in your tracks once Junie, yours and Thomas’s neighbor saw you. She was a sweet old lady, that you had been bringing meals to for quite some time so that she didn’t have to cook.

“Y/N! How are you? I heard about Thomas, such a shame Grace came back, no one really cared for her around here.” You nodded, shifting your lip awkwardly. This wasn’t exactly something you wanted to be chatting about. “I’ve been better.”

“She was always very importuning and demanding of Thomas, can’t believe she thought she could try again with him and succeed.” You thought to yourself what she could mean. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, you know an old woman like me not having much to do, I eavesdrop sometimes. I saw that little twat make her move on your husband through the window. Speaking of, I haven’t seen you there recently Y/N, is everything alright.” The truth came crashing down on you like a wrecking ball. Your mouth subtly dropped as your eyebrows etched together in disbelief. Thomas was telling the truth. He didn’t lie to you. “Ugh- Miss Junie I think I need to be going. I- I will stop by later this week alright?” Without hearing her response you were rushing back to your car.

-

Tommy awoke to the kids bouncing up and down on the bed and he turned to look at you only to forget you aren’t there anymore. “Daddy! Daddy! Ada’s here! Can we go over to her house!” Thomas brushed at his drooping eyelids, still squinting from the morning light. “I- yeah of course you guys can.” Ada appeared in the door frame, and the kids rushed passed her to go get changed. “I figured i’d give you the morning. Take a shower brother. You can’t be in this slump forever. If not for yourself for them. They need their father. They love you y’know.” Tommy nodded and thanked her before sliding the blanket back over his head.

You glanced at the odometer as you were approaching 70 mph, swiftly avoiding the potholes or any bad ice patches. You felt like a terrible wife, shameful and guilty for not believing him your dear Tommy. You just hoped it wasn't too late.

-

Freshly showered and clothed. He headed downstairs and noticed Ada had left a note informing him of what time she would have them back by. He was grateful for Ada and Pol, always willing to help him out. He took a seat in the kitchen where Frances had cooked him a warm, hearty breakfast. He thanked her and placed his glasses on before opening the paper.

Before he could take a bite of his food Tommy heard a car sprint into his driveway, and he removed his glasses, and was standing up running to the window within seconds, gun ready at the side.

All movement in him stopped, time froze when he saw you in the drivers seat, quickly opening the door before running to the front of the house and hearing you bang on the door aggressively.

When he opened the door, he was worried something was wrong, you couldn’t have changed your mind. He took in your out of breath state, and your tear stained, red cheeks. The first thing that came to his mind was you were in trouble and he settled his hand near his gun. “Y/N, what’s wrong are you alright?”

“Junie she-she told me- she saw everything.” Without hesitating Tommy pulled you into his warm embrace once again as a wave of undeniable relief washed through him. Maybe Tommy should be thanking the old bat for eavesdropping all the time.

“I missed your sweet, beautiful smile. I haven’t slept in weeks with an empty half of our bed love. I thought I lost you forever. If I could go back in time and change it and just shoot her I would. She’s never, ever coming back here I made sure of it. It’s taken care of.” You didn’t want to know what that meant all you cared about right now was making up with your husband. “I’m- I’m sorry for not believing you.” Tommy combed his fingers gently through your hair, while tears of happiness began to stream down his now red cheeks.

“Darling I don’t blame you with who I was as a man before I met you. Just know Grace is history, in the past. She could never compete with such a gentle, beautiful soul like yours. I would never do that to you my love.” You looked up at him, your glossy eyes connecting with his.

You couldn’t stop yourself from jumping up into his arms and smashing your lips against his in an electrifying kiss that sent shocks through your body. You missed him momentously. Not wanting to break away, he took note that the door being open was sending snow in. He kissed you on your chilled temple before escorting you inside. “Frances just prepared breakfast and Ada took the children, they’ll be back this evening. Please join me.” You smiled in hopes that things could go back to normal, how they were before Grace attempted to split you a apart.

Before you made it to the kitchen you stopped him in front of the fireplace, papers in your hands. You threw them into the flames and watched them turn to dust. You needed Thomas to know that they weren’t submitted and were not going to be. He smiled at you gracefully, placing his arm around your shoulders.

The two of you stood there in silence, taking in that you were once again still a force no one could reckon with.

#thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #ranaewrites

[runningfrom2am]

could we get a blurb where rafe saves reader at a party?

it's gets a little handsy for her with some of his friends and one of them tries to go too far and rafe saves her?

thank you for this request omg!! i hope it lives up to your expectations (even tho its a little long to be a blurb oops-) and i'm sorry this took me so long!

get the fuck off her - r.c.

pairing: rafe x fem!kook!reader

wc: 2.4k

tags/warnings: angst, comfort, implications of attempted sa, intentional use of lowercase, violence (kinda), some generally triggering stuff so please if any of this is upsetting for you please go read something else!

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav/masterlists

"you're not funny kelce, has anyone ever told you that before?" you raise an eyebrow at your friend, talking loudly over the blaring music as you cross your arms over your chest.

"actually no, that's a first." kelce replies snarkily, mocking your posture. "you're lying though, babe- i know you think i'm hilarious."

you roll your eyes, a smile still present on your face. your pupils are blown, lids drooping slightly as you immediately forget the interaction and sway with the music.

"c'mon, you know you love me." kelce chuckles, stepping closer and placing his hands on your waist. you laugh, brushing his hands off smoothly.

rafe is biting into the rim of his plastic cup as he watches, previously enjoying a sip of whatever jungle juice someone had left on the counter. he's watching closely, and though you laughed it off, he knew you well- and he knew you weren't a big fan of being touched. kelce should know better too.

it's only a matter of minutes before it happens again, topper approaching the group and slinging his arm over your shoulder which you don't even process with the concoction of substances mixing in your bloodstream.

"rafe, man, your sister's a bitch, bro." topper whines, leaning into you further.

"that so?" rafe chuckles, watching topper's arm slide down to your back.

"yeah, she's leading me on, then fucking off and leaving me high and dry." he explains vaguely. "i bet you wouldn't do that to me, would you, sweetheart?" he says to you, hand sliding lower, lower, until his fingers reach the bottom of your shirt and the skin of your back.

"i don't think it's personal, top. have you tried talking to her about it?" you suggest, wrapping your arms around yourself, subtly holding the hem of your shirt down.

topper rolls his eyes, leaning closer to make sure you hear him as you lend him your ear. "i just hate talking though... don't you?" he says, lips brushing over the skin of your neck.

"you're drunk, top..." you laugh nervously, very briefly making eye contact with rafe standing across from you in the small circle you've created.

"hey, what'd he say?" rafe asks over the music, brow furrowed with the instant rush of sobriety.

you smile nervously at him. "nothing... he's just being weird." you chuckle, shaking your head and trying to move away. "i'm gonna go get another drink. i'll be back." you squeeze out of toppers grip and walk off through the crowd towards the corner where you hid your cooler.

you bop your head along to the mac miller song that started on your way over, humming along to the tune and laughing a little at other people chanting along to the lyrics. you quickly grab another drink out of the cooler before shoving it back in the mostly empty cupboard and closing it again.

"she's not gonna fuck you, bro. i'll tell you that right now." rafe shakes his head at his friend, taking another sip of the overly sweet drink.

"have you seen her? it's well worth the shot if the worst she can say is no." topper laughs, and rafe clenches his jaw, looking again over the crowd to try and keep an eye on you. "the best she can say is absolutely, and she's into me, i can tell."

"oh, can you now?" rafe mumbles, eyes landing on you at last as you close the cupboard and crack open your can. if you had any feelings for any of the boys you regularly hung out with, it was a secret to him. you were a puzzle to him, despite your friendly and sometimes flirty personality.

"yeah, but she's not gonna let me hit with you clowns around. i'll be back, or not." topper laughs, pushing back through the crowd in the direction of you.

rafe decides to let him go. you could make your own decisions, and clearly, you were going to say no, and topper would come sulking back in a few minutes after striking out. he watched as topper made it up to you, starting a conversation. you were laughing, and he figured that was a good time to let you handle yourself.

except for a few moments later, when he looked up from his conversation with kelce and another girl that appeared by his side, to see you with your back to the wall in a corner, topper standing over you.

"hey, i think we should get back to the guys..." you chuckle nervously, taking a step back and hitting the wall.

"why? i told them we'd be a while." topper smirks, hands once again finding your waist and sliding under the hem of your shirt.

"well i didn't, i said i'd be back and-"

"get that stick out of your ass, won't you? we're having fun." he insists, leaning down over you and brushing his lips over your jaw.

you bite your lip nervously, scanning the room to see if there's anyone near enough to talk to to pull yourself out of this situation. "top, please, i don't want to do this can we just head back?"

"i know you want to give me a shot, you won't regret it..." he mumbled against your skin, hands sliding up farther under your shirt as the sound of your heartbeat echoed over the music in your ears.

you panic, trying weakly to just push him off at this point and create any kind of distance between the two of you as his hands press into your skin. "please don't topper, you're drunk..." you say, but it comes out whinier than you intended. the disconnect between your mind and your body is showing, and you can see that as you're fumbling to get your hands to reach his shoulders just enough to get him to back off. you didn't need to, when a moment later he was pulled back with a force unforeseen by either of you.

"get the fuck off her, man."

it's rafe, and he's angry. you've seen him like this before, sure, but the look behind his eyes is new as he shoved topper away, dropping the grip he held on the back of his shirt. "rafe, c'mon." topper chuckles, adjusting his shirt and rubbing the front of his neck where the fabric had dug into his skin.

just as quickly, rafe's fist was gripping the front of his shirt again, getting face to face with him. "no, she was literally pushing you off and you didn't take that as a no?" rafe's forehead is almost pressed to toppers as he backs him into the kitchen island.

"rafe!" you shout, voice shaky as you try to get his attention. "let him go, it's fine."

rafe looks back over his shoulder at you, standing with your arms crossed tightly over your stomach. he sighs, dropping the fabric before turning to you. "you okay, y/n/n?" he asks, shaking out his fist.

you nod shakily, pulling your shirt back down from where it had ridden up with the disturbance.

"you sure?" he asks again, looking you up and down with concern drawn between his brows.

you continue to nod, looking around now for where topper had put down your drink when he took it out of your hand to back you into the wall. "i'm fine... just, yeah. it's fine." you chuckle awkwardly.

"no, it's not. come on. i'll walk you home, yeah?"

"rafe, c'mon, she said it's fine. she can stay longer." kelce interjects, having followed him over.

rafe throws his hands up in frustration as he turns to his friends. "shut the fuck up, kelce! i'll beat the shit out of both of you. seriously, i don't give a shit." he turns back to you. "c'mon, i'll grab your bag. lets get you out of here."

as rafe leads you away, you avoid eye contact with his friends, arms still crossed to quell your shakiness. rafe pulls your cooler bag back out of the cupboard and throws it over his shoulder before guiding you to the door. you're relieved to feel the cool sea breeze hit your skin, you didn't even realize how stuffy it was and how claustrophobic you felt until you got outside and you could finally breathe again.

"seriously, are you okay?" rafe asks again, feeling nervous that you only said it was fine before because there were so many people around. he's still tense, angry, but he's making an effort to seem calm since now he's alone with you.

"yeah, uh, yeah. fine." you nod softly, staring down at your feet as you make your way to the sidewalk. "just... a little shaken up, i guess."

rafe adjusts your bag over his shoulder, then proceeds to rub his hand over his forehead. "i'm sorry, that was shitty."

"it happens, unfortunately..." you laugh awkwardly, trying to shrug it off.

rafe looks down at you as you walk, still avoiding eye contact with him. "has top done that before? i'll go back and-"

"no! no, he's never done that before." you assure him. "i don't know, like, going to a party around a bunch of people you kind of know and kind of don't know is never... comfortable. it's hard to get comfortable and then when you do something like that happens and-" you laugh to yourself. "sorry, i shouldn't rant to you about this."

"no, by all means." rafe replies, urging you on. "you can tell me anything."

"thanks, but i think i'm done." you grin, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you walk.

"does that actually happen to you like... often?" he asks after a few moments of silence.

"not often, and its never been that scary- i guess?" you explain. "just sometimes, some guy will touch me or say something and i just get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong and it's hard to shake. it sticks with you. more often than not if you say no they'll retaliate, either get mad or spread lies about you or whatever. so i just kind of.. freeze. when you don't know what to do, sometimes you don't do anything and you just have to laugh it off. it is what it is, i guess."

"right." rafe nods, deep in thought over what you had said. "so what i'm hearing, is that you never actually slept with devin?"

you laugh at this, tone still slightly wobbly. "i told you i didn't, remember?"

"ah, yes. you did tell me that." rafe remembers how sitting at the country club bar together just weeks prior he had asked you about this rumour and you denied it, shaking your head as you sipped on a virgin daiquiri. "i didn't really believe it anyways. devin's a prick." 

"he really is." you agree, looking up now at the sky. "thank you, by the way," you add, looking over at your friend now for the first time since you left. you're met with confusion in his eyes as he returns your gaze. "for, like, rescuing me."

"i shouldn't have had to. that was fucked." rafe shakes his head. "don't thank me, that's so... twisted. if topper could have gotten through his thick skull that maybe you're not into him-"

"he thinks i'm into him?" you laugh, eyes wide now.

"well, hopefully not anymore." rafe chuckles. "but knowing him, he still probably doesn't get it. i'll talk some sense into him."

"please do." you sigh. "he won't believe it from me, apparently."

"honestly, i don't think i can look at him for the next week." rafe admits.

"tell me about it."

another few moments of silence follow. "you know, you don't have to hangout with us. if we make you uncomfortable we can keep our distance."

"you're the only one who never has." you smile at him. "surprisingly." you add teasingly, bumping your shoulder against his arm.

"what's that supposed to mean?" rafe chuckles, already knowing it was a joke.

you just shrug in response. "you know, you're whole 'bad boy' rep you've got going on."

"i can still be cool and like... not make girls uncomfortable. that's actually kind of the point."

"that's a good point." you agree. "the girls do flock to you."

rafe rolls his eyes at this, smiling as he shakes his head. "not that... that's what i want. it just kind of happens."

"so you get it?" you giggle, feeling the shakiness you previously had finally slightly subsiding.

"well, no. when i tell them to fuck off they... you know, fuck off." he laughs.

"ah- what a pleasure that must be." you joke, stopping as you're now standing in front of your driveway. "thanks for walking me home. it was hard to breathe in there."

rafe stops too, looking down the long driveway to your house. "of course, anytime." he nods, looking at you for a moment before he realizes you're waiting for your bag. "shit, sorry..." he laughs, dropping it from his shoulder and handing it back to you.

"all good." you grin, taking it and putting it on.

"well, I've got to get going. i have a guy to beat up, so..."

as he turns away, you speak to him again. "rafe, don't." your voice is quieter now, and as he looks back at you he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. "please." you add, so softly he's sure if he didn't see your lips moving he wouldn't have heard it. "it'll just make it worse... i just want to forget about it."

"okay, hey, hey- i was kidding. i won't touch him." rafe is quick to backtrack, holding a hand out to grab your shoulder but he hesitates, dropping it again. "are you sure you're okay?"

that's when the floodgates open, and your hands are flying up to your face to cover it as you start to sob. the shock had worn off by now, and the reality of what could have happened was setting in. rafe didn't know what to do, looking around to make sure no one could see. "y/n... what can i do?" he asks, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and tell you how safe you are, that everything is okay, but he knows touching you probably wouldn't be wise.

you can't answer. you can hardly breathe as you feel your chest tightening. you try and laugh, wiping your eyes and looking up at him. you wish he wasn't seeing this. you shake your head, deciding to just sit down on the grass.

rafe sits next to you, tucking his knees up to his chest like you had, crossing his arms over top. "you're safe, y/n/n." he tells you, leaning his head on his forearms and watching you. "can i stay with you?"

at this you just move a little closer, leaning your forehead onto his shoulder instead. he freezes up, just for a second, before moving so he can brace his hand on the ground behind you. "I've got you. i'm not going anywhere..."

taglist: @bookishbabyyy, @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @fullfledgedemo, @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover, @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @flonkertn, @whtvrrafe

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #obx fanfic #outer banks #rafe fic #obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron x you

[suuuupernovaaa]

tìsraw seyki

tìsraw seyki [tɪ.ˈsɾaw sɛj.ˈk·i] vtr. hurt (someone or something)

Anonymous Request: I was wondering if you could do a fic with reader and Neteyam having an argument with Neteyam calling the reader clingy? She’s known for being quiet and reserved and was shy at the start of their relationship, and it took a while for her to open up, so it hits her pretty hard. They make up and stuff but reader keeps her distance bcos she took his comment seriously, and Neteyam isn’t aware of how much his words hurt her.

1,560 words

I dismounted 'Rrta, my Iran, and gave her a loving hug before ensuring the saddle was tight and bidding her a farewell for now.

My riding partner, Neteyam, was already walking away when I turned to join him.

"Wait up," I called, scaling rocks to reach him. I reached out, grabbing his shoulder, but for the first time since I'd known him, Neteyam shrugged off my hand.

I stopped in my tracks, and felt my body tense all over.

"Neteyam?" I asked.

"I need a little space, Y/N. Stop clinging to me. I'll see you later."

He didn't even do me the courtesy of turning around when he said it. He simply stalked away, down the mountain and into the forest, leaving me there alone.

I waited for a long time before moving, to ensure I wouldn't catch up with him, and all the while I wondered what I could have possibly done wrong.

Stop clinging to me.

Was that something I was doing? Neteyam and I spent a lot of our time together, that was to be sure... but I thought he enjoyed spending time with me. In fact, he had taken great pains to ensure I thought that. I was naturally pretty reserved, and not very trusting, and Neteyam had worked hard over months and months to convince me his feelings were genuine, to show me how much he cared for me.

So why this change now? What had changed his mind about me? Had he just gotten to know me better and realized I was annoying, clingy, and not fun to be around?

He could have at least told me that.

It was nearly dark when I returned home, and tucked myself in my hammock to cry myself to sleep.

--

Neteyam found me the next morning, setting out for a hunt, by myself.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I raised my brow at him. "Hunt. See you later."

Turning, I strapped my bow over my chest, and made to take off, but Neteyam grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry, about yesterday. I was annoyed at Lo'ak and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that."

He seemed genuine, and he looked sorry... so I nodded. "It's okay. I'll see you later."

His apology was not enough to cover the damage that his words the day before had done. I didn't believe him - if he was annoyed at Lo'ak, there was no need to ask me for space or call me clingy. It felt like an excuse, and I wasn't ready to dig deeper and hear the real reason he'd said it.

So, I turned and ran, and he didn't follow.

--

"She's just been... weird," Neteyam said to his sister, Kiri, a few days later. The two were walking together, back from a long ride, and Neteyam was concerned.

Ever since their fight, which Neteyam had thought was so small, Y/N had been distant with him. She had accepted his apology, but he'd hardly seen her since, and when he had, something had seemed so strange about her.

She barely touched him. Her smile didn't meet her eyes. She just seemed... really sad.

"Has she said anything to you?"

Kiri shook her head. "Didn't you say you had a fight?"

"Yeah, but, I thought we got past it." Neteyam pushed a large leaf out of his way, and held it for his sister. "I said I was sorry, and she said it was okay."

"What was the fight?" Kiri asked.

"Well, you remember that day that Lo'ak was a huge pain in the ass?"

Kiri rolled her eyes. "Every day."

Neteyam laughed. "Right but, it was particularly bad, and I got my ass chewed for it. And then Y/N wanted to go on a ride but, I just wasn't in the mood. She insisted though, because we hadn't seen each other all day. So I went but, afterwards, I told her I wanted to be alone."

Kiri pursed her lips as they walked through the muggy jungle. "Is that all you said?"

"I said she had been clinging to me."

Kiri stopped in her tracks. "You did not."

"What? Was that bad?"

Kiri put her face in her hands and sighed. "Neteyam, you moron. Do you really not see what the problem is?"

Arms outstretched, Neteyam shook his head. "No!"

"You moron!" Kiri repeated. "Y/N is so shy, and so quiet, and it took you so long to get her to open up to you! You complained for months about how she probably didn't like you because she was so nervous and shy, and I told you so many times she was just having a hard time trusting you. And you finally get her to trust you, and you do this? You make her think that you think she's annoying?"

Neteyam's mouth full open and he leaned back, the realization washing over him. "Shit."

"So she probably thinks you don't like her anymore, and she's so hurt she can't even be around you. And you're here complaining to me about it instead of groveling at her feet! Do you love her or not?"

Neteyam felt like a hand was squeezing his heart. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Y/N, and he couldn't believe how stupid and careless his words had been. He didn't think she was clingy, he had just lashed out in frustration after a really bad day, instead of letting her be there for him.

He had shown her what a bad made he would be. He had disappointed her, and himself.

He took off without another word, running as fast as he could to find his woman.

--

It had been such a hot day, a swim in a cool spring was exactly what I needed. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, undoing my braids and scrubbing my scalp, until I felt fresh and brand new.

I lay in the water now, only my face above the surface, so I didn't hear him at first when he approached.

He was entering the water when I opened my eyes and saw him. A few days ago, I would have felt nothing but excitement upon seeing Neteyam - now, I felt dread. Would this be the time he would tell me he was no longer interested?

I'd been avoiding him for this very reason. I wasn't ready for it to end.

"Neteyam," I said, sitting up so the water came almost to my shoulders, and pulled my knees to my chest.

"Y/N! I have been searching for hours. We need to talk."

I bit my lip and turned away, trying to force the tears from spilling over. "Okay."

Neteyam knelt in front of me. "I owe you an apology, Y/N. I can't... I can't believe how careless I was with my words, and I can't believe I didn't realize how much I'd hurt you until today. I've been wondering why you've been distant but, I didn't even think..." He shook his head, and reached under the water, grabbing my hands. "I should have thought before I spoke. Y/N, I don't think you cling to me... well, you do, but it's something that I like. These past few days without you have been the worst of my life. I'd rather be tortured. I was in a bad mood, and it wasn't your fault, but I took it out on you. I know I destroyed the trust we worked so hard together to build up. I'm willing to do all that work again, to show you how much I love you."

I had failed - the tears had spilled over, but they weren't born of sadness. I leaned forward and got up onto my knees, so that I was more level with Neteyam, and pressed my head into his chest.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him, creating a ripple of waves around us.

The relief I felt was overwhelming. Going from being so sure I was going to lose the best thing in my life to even more sure I was going to get to keep it, it was like whiplash.

I cried and Neteyam held me tightly while I did, whispering reassurances in my ear all the while.

Eventually, we stood up and got out of the water, and Neteyam helped me get dressed.

"Neteyam," I said as he fastened my beaded necklace, "I forgive you. And I'm sorry, too. I should have told you what was bothering me, but I was so scared that you had changed your mind, I was just, um, avoiding you so you couldn't break up with me."

Neteyam shook his head violently. "Bah! Never." He took my face gently into his hands, bringing it closely to his. "You are to be my mate, Y/N. I will never leave you. You can always trust me, and you can always tell me when I've hurt you. Apparently, I'm too dumb to figure it out alone."

I smiled. "Kiri had to tell you?"

He laughed. "She did."

He kissed me then, holding me tight. It seemed we both owed Kiri a thank you. I knew it wasn't the first time she had talked sense into one of her brothers, nor would it be the last.

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar the way of water

[bellarkeselection]

Omg I have an idea Jaime x reader. Reader is a servant and Jamie is I love with her and they are together secretly but everyone knows because they have 2 children and cersie hates reader because she took Jamie from her and Jamie defends reader every chance he gets. Plus if the children are older maybe Joffrey has a crush on there daughter idk it just poped into my head.❤️❤️❤️

You’re Better Than Any Proper Lady

Quickly walking through the halls of the Red Keep I finally made it back to my chambers at the other end of the castle shutting the door quickly. Leaning my back against the door I quickly heard two sets of feet running directly at me giggling like crazy. “Mommy!” Two sets of arms embraced me in a warm hug.

“Ohhh hi babies. You’re daddy is coming shortly. I should have the rest of the night off for now.” Breaking the hug I put a hand on each of my children’s shoulders. The kids weren’t twins but they almost looked like they were in my opinion.

My daughter Laina had her father’s bright blonde hair that was in a braid falling down her back and my eye color. Whereas my son Alex had my hair color but it was almost as bright as her father’s. Yet he had his father’s eye color. Someone knocked three times on the door where I turned my head around getting to my feet. Opening the door the figure that had golden hair moves past me the second I locked the door behind the knight. "Cersei wants to see the both of us later tonight. I tried to tell her it wasn't necessary but she wouldn't take no for an answer...I've missed you."

“I’ve missed you too. What do you think she wants to talk with both of us about. I mean I thought we were doing a good job of keeping our relationship and the kids a secret. So that you don’t get in trouble with King Robert.” I told Jaime when he wrapped his arms around me in a hug kissing the crown of my forehead.

He held me in his arms with my hands resting on his armor chest with his green eyes focused on mine. “I’ve told you when we started this relationship between you and I. That I don’t care what other people think of us. If they know about the kids then I’ll stand by your side and defend you always.”

“I know you will, Jaime. Everyone may say you are an oath breaker. But I know you better than everyone else does.” Moving myself away from his arms I turned to our kids who were waiting to just embrace him like crazy. “Go on you two.”

Laina and Alex didn’t waste a second before they ran forward when he bent down on his knees opening his arms. “Ohh there’s my little lion and lionesses.” He hugged each of them when they throw their tiny arms around his neck smiling into his shoulders.

Watching Jaime embracing his kids that were on the ground right in front of me. Wrapping my arms around myself I smiled at their interaction. Jaime and I knew that our relationship couldn’t be out in the open but that wasn’t something important to me or him. With our different status ranks it was rare for a servant and a former heir to a household who had become a member of the Kingsguard would end up together. “Daddy, are you going to be able to stay the night this time?” Alex asked his father with those hopeful eyes focused on him.

“Oh I don’t know..” Jaime started to say hating to not be able to say yes without hesitation.

Laina tugged his right hand giving him puppy dog eyes trying to convince him into saying only yes and nothing else. “Please daddy. We want to spend more time with you.”

“I’ll see what I can do. Come here.” He sent them a smile kissing each of their foreheads before he rose to his feet beside me knowing we had to go see whatever his sister wanted. If we didn’t she would come and figure out that Jaime had fathered other children with someone else that wasn’t her. And that wouldn’t end well for either of us.

Hugging our kids quickly I kissed their heads shooing them away back into the spot that we hide them from the staff that would patrols even the servants chambers at odd times without our knowledge. The only reason I knew about it was because Jaime saw one of the spies searching one morning. “I’ll be back in little while. Don’t answer the door unless you hear three knocks on it.”

“You’re worrying too much. It’s starting to show Y/n. You need to remain like we have nothing to hide from her.” Jaime warned me while we walked beside each not holding hands moving through the halls on our way to the Queen’s chambers.

Slumping my shoulders I huffed trying to take some breathes to calm my nerves down. "She's the queen of the seven kingdoms and your sister. She could put our head on spikes if she wishes. Especially since she'll probably think that I stole you away from her. There's not really a good answer to our situation."

Jaime slowly opened the door letting me walk in first and he shut it behind himself. Shifting my gaze forward I held in my breath seeing the queen of the seven kingdoms sitting at a table by the open window. Cersei Lannister leans back in her chair gesturing for us to join her. "Ser Jaime. Lady Y/n, please sit with me."

Slowly together we moved and sat down across from her where I gulped being the first one to break the silence in the room. "You're grace, I'm afraid I have to ask why exactly did you request us here?"

"I want you to know that you aren't worthy of my brother. You might have been somewhat worthy of him if you were born from a noble house but you aren't. You came here as a servant to me. And I know of the little ones you have given him. But don't think for a moment that he will show devotion to you!' She growled gripping the wine cup in her hands.

Parting my mouth opened I didn’t know what to say to her. “Your grace, I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Oh cut the crap, servant girl. I know that the two kids who occasionally follow you around aren’t just yours but my brothers as well. Did you really think that I wouldn’t be able to notice the blonde hair and green eyes mixed with your physical features!” The queen cut me off with her sharp tongue. “Jaime and I belong together. You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t deserve you!”

Jaime slide his chair back with his hands resting on the table raising his voice towards his sister shocking the both of us. “You don’t get to talk about her that way. She is a better woman and lover than you will ever be. And I will be marrying her someday!”

Cersei jumped up to her feet slapping him straight across the cheek. “You lying cunt. Tell me you’re be a liar, Jaime!”

“Jaime?” I trailed off staring up at him taken back by his words.

His blonde hair was slightly falling in front of his green eyes but he didn’t have that cheeky smirk on his face and he didn’t look to be joking. He turned his hands into fists at his sides standing tall against his twin sister the queen. “I'm not joking, Cersei. I am falling in love with Y/n and our kids. And she is better than any high born lady..she's better than you ever were to me!"

"How dare you speak to me that way. I am the queen - I am your sister. We belong together, you and I. I will put your heads on spikes if you walk out that door!" She sent me a death glare where I gulped.

I didn't want to get in between the sibling fight. Even though I basically already was at this point. Jaime leans forward glaring at his twin sister knowing how to show he was confident in his words. "You won't be able to do anything once I tell father that his line is secure with two Lannister heirs."

"They're not born of noble blood. What makes you think that he will ever agree to your terms?" She teased him leaning on the table the same way he was with her blonde hair waving down her shoulders.

He didn't let his confidence drop at any time. "Because he told me family is all that lives on. He will just care that I will be his heir and that I have given him too grandchildren." He turned away from his sister offering me his hand tugging me up to stand until we had made it back to his chamber door.

Lifting my gaze up to his I squeezed his hand needing an answer. "I...I can't believe you said that to her. After everything that you've been through with her..and yet you chose me. And I don't get why we are at your chambers. The kids will wonder where we are at."

"I just want a few moments with you, Y/n." He responded with a bright smile kicking open the door dragging me inside pressing my back against the closed door. "Nothing I said in there was just for show. I meant every part of it. I want to marry you, Y/n. I want you to be my wife and the lady of Casterly Rock."

Wrapping my arms around his neck I smiled pulling his lips down onto mine. "I'd be honored to be your wife, Jaime Lannister. I think I am falling in love with you too"

"I'll talk with my father tomorrow. Now I just time with you and our kids." He responded wrapping his arms around my waist drawing me in for another kiss feeling me smiling into the long awaited kiss.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - @makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @lover-of-books-and-tea

#jaime lannister x reader #Jaime Lannister x servant reader #jaime lannister one shots #jaime lannister x wife reader #jaime lannister x reader masterlist #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister one shot #got x you #got x y/n #got x reader #jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister x y/n #nikolaj coster waldau #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones fic #game of thrones x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones x you #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones asks #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

[ladystoneboobs]

[Cat, to Brienne:]"And Arya, well . . . Ned's visitors would oft mistake her for a stableboy if they rode into the yard unannounced. [...]" -Catelyn VII, aCoK

ok, this is another thing that makes me feel like i'm taking crazy pills bc i never see it talked about with all the implications behind it. so if anyone is more versed in androgynous medievalish clothing, feel free to correct me here, but my thinking is if unannounced visitors mistook arya for a stableboy, would that not mean she was wearing boyish riding garb, trousers and all? bc if she was running around with messy hair and a dirty gown, wouldn't she more likely be seen as a female servant? if my reading is not wildly offbase that does not jibe with the idea of arya being terrorized all day by both septa mordane and her mother to be more ladylike. rather, this limited freedom to be mistaken for a servant could suggest that pragmatic catelyn was picking her battles with arya too, not forcing her to always appear prim and proper on days when they were not expecting any guests to see her. catelyn "despaired of ever making a lady of" arya, though neither she nor ned could abandon the goal, which could mean a more measured approach, not exhausting herself by going after arya for every unladylike move she made, especially when she was still a prepubescent child. the quote above starts a paragraph which ends with catelyn feeling "as though a giant hand were squeezing her chest" after saying she thought arya was dead like bran and rickon, after no word of her since ned's arrest. in that context of grief, i think all her words about arya should be read as coming with bittersweet fondness, just being honest about their problems, not sugarcoating any of it.

but let's compare catelyn's trials with arya, including her often running around looking like a stableboy, to arya's interactions with lady smallwood, somehow seen as an even better mother-figure than her own mother, whom arya found easier to comply with bc of her kinder manner. first of all, lady smallwood's efforts to make arya ladylike included two baths and two dresses in one day after arya and gendry ruined the first dress, before finally giving her boy's riding clothes to leave in. i would argue a full second bath was unneeded when they could have just washed the dirt off her face and hands, and, furthermore, that both the dresses were an impractical waste when she knew arya would be riding back out with the outlaws and could not look a highborn lady when doing so. idt pragmatic catelyn would have gone to all that trouble just to make arya look ladylike for a few hours when there were no other ladies around. as for the claim that arya found it easier to comply with her? no, that's just flat-out demonstrably false. the text says she was "forced" into a tub and "they insisted" she wear girl's clothes. what room did she have to refuse as a hostage in a stranger's castle? she certainly felt no compunction about fighting gendry in the acorn dress she'd been forced into, and only felt bad about it afterward when lady smallwood talked about her dead son.

now, let's move on to the only canon quotes we have from cat to/about arya in arya's pov.

"Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. "She has such fine, delicate hands." When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. "Arya has the hands of a blacksmith." -Arya I, aGoT Her father had hunted boar in the wolfswood with Robb and Jon. Once he even took Bran, but never Arya, even though she was older. Septa Mordane said boar hunting was not for ladies, and Mother only promised that when she was older she might have her own hawk. -Arya V, aCoK Her mother used to say she could be pretty if she would just wash and brush her hair and take more care with her dress, the way her sister did. -The Blind Girl(/Arya I), aDwD

in the first quote we don't know catelyn's reaction to septa mordane's rude disapproval of arya, certainly not if she agreed with it. what we do know is she was not interested in only hearing endless praise of sansa and wanted to hear if arya had made any progress. although admittedly that was a vain hope, which ignored arya's true strengths and the possibility that she could never master and enjoy needlework the way catelyn did.

the second quote better shows the difference between arya's mother and her septa. catelyn does not criticize arya for wanting to hunt boar nor dismiss her interest. instead she tries to mollify arya and accomodate her desire with the promise of a future hunting hawk. that this was a promise, not just an idle thought, suggests this would have happened in due time and could have been a bonding activity for them if the plot hadn't intervened.

the third quote is definitely a backhanded compliment and doubly unhelpful in comparison to sansa, but at least it shows catelyn did not think one of her own daughters was ugly. she thought both were pretty even tho sansa was the more admired as traditionally beautiful, and she thought arya's looks were held back by her messy hair and clothes. (useful to remember for those fans who like to keep track of how many characters called arya pretty vs. how many call her ugly.)

yes, it is a bad sign that arya genuinely wondered if her mother would want her back, dirtier than ever in her disguise as a peasant boy. their relationship definitely had faults which the adult parent must bear responsibility for. but we must remember that arya also worried if robb would pay a ransom for her, and was most ashamed about the people she'd killed, and couldn't bear the thought of ned knowing all she'd done. and we must keep in mind that even ned never openly gainsaid septa mordane on-page either, and that arya desperately wanted to renunite with her mother and felt confident gendry could stay with her if she vouched for him with her mother. that confidence would seem completely unwarranted if their mother/daughter relationship was as utterly bad as some fans make out.

#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #asoiaf meta #catelyn stark #arya stark #a wolf with a fish in its mouth #that most recent post in the tag is actually insane but these are things ive thougt abt saying for awhile #i could also say that jon's doubts and fears wrt his mother are also unfounded and that ned bears some blame for that #by never telling him his mother loved him or even whether she was alive or dead #funny how people can recognize lady smallwood's similarity to cat as a mother figure but just saying aryas pretty w/o qualifications is #enough to make her better in every other way too #anyways #happy wolf pack wednesday! #(c)lsb

[futbol16]

 Never Say Die¹ • Steph Catley

Resquests: part 2 to the steph fic? Please a part 2?

Part 1/2 of part 2 for I Miss You

Part 2/2

Word count: 4,6k ( i had to cut it into two parts because tumblr wouldn't let me post it but im posting both rn)

The match of the knockout stage was an important one, just like the ones before and the ones to come. It was a do or die, you either win or you can wave goodbye to your world cup dreams. 

However, you were confident in the team and with Australia backing up the Matilda’s you gave the fans a performance to celebrate. 

The crowd was loud as Caitlin scored the first goal of the match in her home city, the amazing through ball from Mary that cut through six Danish defenders being endlessly praised. To all of your pleasures Sam had finally made her come back and joined in the 80th minute. And to top it all off the team ended the game with another goal this time coming from Hayley and an assist from you. 

You gripped Steph’s hand tightly as the team celebrated in the locker room after the game but you still made sure to be subtle about it, aware of the cameras and phones recording. It was one thing that your sister and friends knew about the two of you, but you didn’t want the world to know just yet.

Steph hid the beaming smile on her face in her shoulder as she glanced at you and you pretended not to notice as you made brief eye contact with the camera lens of Charli’s phone. 

The joyous screams and shouts of the team told you one thing, this world cup was going to be Australia’s. 

Screams filled your ears as you lined up in the tunnel behind your girlfriend and in front of Caitlin. The small hand in yours is enough to ground you and you made sure to keep your focus ahead and not let yourself look over to the French. You knew if you did the calm in your head would turn into chaos seeing your former Lyon teammates again. Even Wendie’s big head of hair at the front of France’s line up was just a blur to you and to keep yourself busy while you waited for the referee's sign, you turned to the small girl next to you. 

Upon doing so you notice her shivering a little, her other hand pulled tightly to her chest in an unsuccessful attempt to keep herself warm. Your mascot barely looked the age of 7 and in spite of her lips slowly turning purple, she was visibly buzzing with excitement.

Taking one last glance towards the referee you kneel in front of the small girl who turns to you in surprise but you give her a big smile and she reciprocates it with a toothy grin.

“Are you cold, love?” your voice is warm, and as it reaches Steph’s ears in front of you she thinks that alone would be enough to warm up the little girl. 

“Mhmm a little” she mumbles, suddenly becoming shy but you continue smiling at her comfortingly. She clasps her hands together behind her back as you let go of them for a moment and she stares at you with big eyes as you pull off your gloves.

Caitlin grins down at the two of you, her own hand swinging her mascot's hand back and forth lightly. The forward’s eyes lift as her friend turns slightly and Caitlin doesn’t miss the way Steph’s eyes soften at the sight of you conversing with the little girl.

“My name is Grace” she tells you, this time a bit more confident. 

“You have a beautiful name Grace” her smile only seems to widen and she fiddles with her fingers behind her back as she stares at you with big eyes.

“Could you give me your hand pumpkin’?” Grace untangles her hands from behind her back and you put your gloves on each hand. Just as you finish, the referee signals that it’s time to walk out and you stand back up to grab Grace’s hand again, exchanging another grin with her.

When the national anthems come to an end and the mascots make their ways off the field, the girls beside you aren’t surprised to see your team coat hanging off the little girl’s shoulders instead of yours. Your focus is elsewhere as you clap hands with the French team, greeting past teammates with a smile as they move on and you hug Wendie and Selma before you take your place up front with Emily and Mary. 

The crowd is loud, the sold out stadium is standing tall for the Matildas and you take a moment to look around and breathe in deeply before you zero out the noise of the audience and compose yourself as the whistle is blown. 

The game is immediately off to an intense start and Tony can tell within the first 20 minutes that this would be a long game. You only hope you would be able to progress farther than you have the last two times you played in a world cup quarter final with the Matildas. 

Alanna and Katrina are playing their hearts out in the back, clearing balls after balls and you wonder just how surprised the French must feel. 

Going into the game you were well aware of the fact that France are ranked the better team, you knew it, the girls knew it, Tony and the fans knew it and the French were more than proud of their title. However, the Matildas show just how much numbers and lists are worth by keeping almost equal possession of the ball. Surely, judging by Hervé Renard’s reaction he expected his team to score early on. 

That wasn’t going to happen any time soon though.

Australia is playing the game of their lives with Caitlin making run after run and Kyra’s master dribbling, not to mention Mackenzie’s saves. 

The team head off the field with their heads held high and the score stuck at a 0-0. The cheering and shouts in the stadium are loud as ever and it only boosts the team’s confidence. You wondered if the atmosphere was similar in the other stadiums they were broadcasting the match in. 

“Come on girls! We’re doing great and I’m proud of all of you” Tony doesn’t waste time as he starts his half time speech and you eagerly listen to what he’s saying, twisting your bottle’s cap in thought.

“But we need to be quicker. Our defense is good but so is theirs and we saw how quick they were with their counter attacks.” the coach turns to the board in front of him as he points out different plays he thinks Caitlin and yourself could make, also handing out instructions to the midfielders and clapping the rest on the back. Tony ends his speech and your focus is shifted to your favorite defender as she stands. 

“When we go out there again, I want you to believe you’re winners. I want you to hear the crowd, to see the massive amount of fans out here. I want you to connect with each other and I want you to play like this is the last game you would ever play. And I want you to enjoy it, enjoy it and show them why we’re here!” Steph’s captain's speech makes goosebumps rise over everyones skin and a bigger fire is ignited in the girls’ eyes, a deeper desire to win. 

You nod to your girlfriend as your eyes connect in the team huddle and Steph nods back at you as her lips curl a little.

With a final ‘Up the Tillies!’ and claps to the back, Australia steps foot on the pitch for the second half.

As much as you try to bring Tony’s speech to life,you fall short to Caitlin. Half of the opposing team knows you from your four years spent in Lyon, they know you and they know the way you play. If that wasn’t enough, the other half of them were your rivals while playing in the French division and so the PSG players are aware of your skills and tricks too. It makes it practically impossible for you to even get close to the goal because you’ve got at least three defenders on your back at all times. Which in return makes it difficult for Mary and Emily beside you, and Caitlin who’s probably ran half a marathon by now. 

“Fuck off Élisa!” tension is rising between you and the defender who only smirks at you in return. De Almeida had just made a goal line clearance from Mary’s shot and less than a minute after play resumed, she was tackling you to the ground.

It angered you so much. You wanted to play well and to help your teammates but you simply couldn’t. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you huff out another frustrated breath.

“Hey, come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself” Caitlin’s arm finds its way around your shoulders as Karchaoui is treated by the medics and you throw your head back at her words.

“Cait, I want to play and I can’t do anything with them on my ass! Élisa has a boot shoved up there at all times and I basically have no influence on the game.” you explain to her in a rush. It was currently nearing the end of added injury time and the score was still an underwhelming nothing.

You couldn’t keep track of the amount of saves your sister has made and the number of shots Hayley and Sam had on goal, you didn’t need to though because the French keeper was there to save them every time and so it didn’t matter much.

“We’re playing as a team, bug. Your struggle is my struggle, my struggle is your struggle. You just wait Y/N/N, we’ll show them what ‘Never say die’ means.” Caitlin with her wise words again. The older girl rubs your arm and shoots you an encouraging smile as you join your teammates in a drink break before extra time would start. She was right though, there was no blaming one person for the scoreless game. 

A hand settles on your lower back as you listen to Tony and the assistant coach, slowly sipping on your drink. You turn your head just a little to see and big brown eyes shine in the lights of the stadium, a look in them reserved just for you. 

“Look at them…” Steph trails off as she nods towards the stands and you follow her instructions, lifting your head.

A sea of gold and green flooded the stands, excited yells echoing in the sold out stadium, smiles on faces and a glint in the young girls’ and boys’ eyes. Signs are held high and you notice just how many of them have your name on them, Y/n Arnold. The Matildas fans are decked out in yours and your teammates jersey and you swear your heart calms its rapid beating. They believed in you, they were here for you and they have your backs and they had faith in you, in every single one of you. 

“It’s so beautiful” you whisper to the brunette, somehow still being heard over the noise of the fans. Steph’s eyes remain on you however, a small smile playing on her lips as she squeezes your waist. 

“So beautiful” she concludes as well and you turn to face her, nodding to yourself.

“We are winning it for them, yeah” you’re rewarded with a proud smile and a determined nod from your captain. Eventually you retake your position on the field but you exchange a few words of encouragement with Mackenzie before you do so. And then you’re back in the game.

Fouls and corners are handed out one by one but none result in goals for either team, even Alanna’s own goal had thankfully been disallowed because of Renard’s foul on Caitlin inside the box. The look on the blonde’s face was priceless and if you weren’t fighting for your life in this match you would’ve laughed at her. 

Courtnee’s fresh legs instantly make an impact as she is subbed in for Hayley but it goes just wide and before you know it the second half of extra time has started. 

“Nugget, come on” Mackenzie has an arm reaching for you as you slowly walk towards the side lines, absolutely exhausted but you wouldn’t back down until your team would win.

You lean into her side as she wraps and arm around you and your sister momentarily rests her head on yours. The goalkeeper's presence brings you a sense of homely comfort and she smiles down at you while leading you towards one of the physios. You join Caitlin on the grass and the two of you get a quick massage to your hamstrings just to relieve some tension and for the pair of you to be able to continue on for the possibility of a penalty shootout. 

The French are attacking again but Mackenzie manages to tip the ball over the crossbar with a magnificent save and the crowd roars. Then not long after Steph takes a corner that Caitlin connects with but it’s deflected by the other team’s defense. 

This looks and feels like a game that is destined for penalties. 

Your eyebrows almost raise to your hairline as you see the French goalkeeper be subbed off and Durand replacing her. You look towards the rest in surprise and your eyes connect with Mary’s who’s sporting a similar expression to yours.

When a second later another substitution is announced you whip your head around to see the number 5 glowing in red. A near victorious smirk graces your lips as you watch De Almeida walk off angrily and Caitlin cannot help but laugh at your antics. Élisa being taken off makes your job a lot easier, if not for anything else at least she wouldn’t be there to annoy you and try to rile you up for the last few minutes of the match.

Your smirk is washed off your face when the whistle is blown and the referee instructs the two teams to line up for the penalty shootout.

A shallow breath leaves your mouth knowing just how much pressure would be on each of your teammates who would have to step up and take the penalty. You trusted Mackenzie enough to know she’d do her best but you were still nervous for the next shot. 

You stand between Alanna and Mini, anxiously shifting from foot to foot as Selma Bacha stands behind the ball. She pulls her leg back, fires and- a shout leaves you as you clap for your sister, Mackenzie has dived after the ball and made an immaculate save. Caitlin next and you squeeze Alanna’s waist.

“She’s got it” you breathe out watching as the forward doesn’t even look in the keeper’s eye.

“OF COURSE SHE DOES!” the blonde screams next to you when Caitlin celebrates and you feel yourself gain even more confidence in the team as the crowd erupts in cheers. 1-0.

Diani steps up, she takes it and Mackenzie barely has time to react. Your heart breaks a little for your sister who gets up from her knees with a deep breath. 1-1.

Steph, she’s been absolute class with penalties this whole world cup and all of you are certain she will fool Durand, easy peasy. She takes it, it goes to the right, almost an exact copy of Selma’s shot and the French saves it. Steph steps back with slight disappointment and your heart squeezes painfully at her misfortune. 1-1. 

Wendie Renard slots it past Mackenzie easily and you clench your jaw in frustration but manage to give your sister an encouraging nod. She’s got this. You’ve all got this. 1-2.

Your heart speeds up as your captain places the ball down, but just like with any other teammate, you all believe in her endlessly. And she doesn’t disappoint, how could the Sam Kerr ever disappoint? It goes past Durand’s outstretched hands and the net ripples. Sam celebrates, finally having a good touch on the ball after the past 126 minutes. 2-2.

Le Sommer, your former teammate reenacts Wendie’s goal but inverted it and the brunette in goal stays on her knees for a second to collect herself. The girls next to you are just as anxious, the whole line of Matildas is practically swaying left and right. 2-3.

“Come on Mare!” you shout after the girl as she walks by and you watch proudly as she gets her payback on Durand, shooting left as the French dives right. The fans are loud and you don’t blame them, knowing at this rate you’ll lose your voice before you get to finish the penalties. 3-3.

Perisset steps up, shoots- oh it hits the goalpost! You can’t contain the squeak that comes out of your mouth but you try to downplay your celebrations. It seemed like the goalpost was on Australia’s side tonight. 3-3.

And you take back that last statement immediately as Mackenzie’s shot hits the other goalpost. 

“Fucking hell” Alanna curses next to you and you can only agree with her when you see your sister deflate like an overused ball. 3-3.

Geyoro’s ball is almost saved and your mouth is hung open ready to cheer for Mackenzie but it goes just past her fingertips. The crowd boos as the French celebrate. 3-4. 

Katrina detaches herself from you and she takes her place behind the ball. It’s a rocket of a shot and the french keeper can’t stop it from going in. Australia screams along to your team’s celebrations and you grin as Mini mimics a rocking motion as she celebrates. That goal was dedicated to Harper. 4-4.

Just one more to go.

Karchaoui and it bounces off the crossbar and into the goal, Mackenzie’s fingertips just grazing the ball. The French team is going crazy next to you and you have to take a second to compose yourself and cling onto that strand of hope. 4-5.

 If Tameka misses the next one, Australia’s world cup dreams are over. They would be over and you wouldn’t even have silverware to give to the country. You shake your head to get rid of those thoughts, reminding yourself that you were professional athletes and were meant to be able to deal with these situations.

And deal with it is what Tameka does, sliding in that ball in the bottom left corner. The stadium goes wild and so does your team, all clapping her on the back and shouting praises at her.

She had just saved your asses and with what an amazing goal she saved it with. 5-5.

This had been the seventh penalty. At this point there’s no ‘just one more to go’ in your mind, with how it has been so far these penalties were going to be never-ending. 

Lakrar doesn’t waste a second after the whistle is blown and Mackenzie goes the wrong way as the ball goes down the middle. The players in blue are celebrating like they know they’ve just won it all and you swear you can feel De Almeida’s devilish smirk directed towards you, even though you’re faced away. 5-6. 

 Your sister is disappointed in herself, that much is clear but she stops you just as you move away from your teammates. 

“Take a deep breath Y/n, you know you can do it, we all know you can. I believe in you sis” she tells you sincerely as you look up at her and you bite the inside of your cheek at her words. Your time to give a reaction is cut short as the referee urges you to take your place behind the ball.

The fans are up on their feet, hands gripping the cold metal railing in distress and you feel all the nerves settle in even more. If you make it, you’re still in the game. If you don’t…you don’t even want to think about it. And to be the cause of your country’s loss, you’d never forgive yourself for that.

You get a few more seconds to get your shit together as the referee assesses Durand who has stepped off her line and you take in a deep breath, just like Macca told you to.

A wave of adrenaline washes over you and as the referee blows her whistle again you pull back and strike the ball with all your power. You don’t move an inch from your position at the penalty spot and your eyes follow the movement of the ball, the fans leaning forward in their seats. It goes straight towards the keeper and you feel your knees buckle underneath you, you’re ready to give up but then it curls harshly, the ball not even spinning as it hits the top right corner. 

It’s silent for a second, at least for you as blood rushes to your ears but then you’re back and you’re screaming and you are jumping into your sister’s arms and the fans are jumping up and down with you.

6-6. 

You saved your country from a loss. And a smile resides on your face as Kenza Dali takes her own shot, if she misses- well you know you’re going through, you’re confident in the girls.

Mackenzie dives and she pushes the ball wide, screaming towards the stands as she celebrates, the rest of you copying her. But your celebrations are short lived as the referee blows her whistle, instructing Kenza to redo the penalty. 

“What the fuck for?!” you yell in fury, upset that she might’ve just ruined this moment for your sister. When she announces that Mackenzie has stepped off her line your shoulders drop. As opposed to you, your sister stays calm and collected, she’s in complete control of the situation and you straighten up at that. She believed in you and you believed in her. 

“Just wait for it” Alanna turns to you, the defender is just as confident in your sister as you are and she shoots you a smirk. If anyone could save this crucial penalty, it was Mackenzie Arnold.

Dali strikes the ball thinking she might outplay your goalkeeper as she sends it in the same path as the previous one but Mackenzie hunts it down like a prey and Kenza holds her head as your sister stares down the referee. The cheeky bugger! Once the save is awarded to her she turns to the crowd yelling before she joins the rest of you. 6-6.

Courtnee glances back at the team once before focusing her attention on the ball. You know she’s going to score, she never missed a penalty before.

The crowd in the stadium are loud, already clapping her on before she even takes the shot. She runs up, leans forward and pulls her leg back, when it comes back down it hits the ball with power and it sails through the air.

Durand dives and the ball is there, the ball is there but Durand doesn’t get a hand on it- IT GOES IN! 7-6.

The Matildas are through to the semi-finals! If Australia was loud before, well they’re deafening now as they go wild in their screams of cheering.

Courtnee takes off in a sprint and the rest of you follow her as you scream her name and dog pile each other, a massive sense of relief and joy overflowing in your systems. The subs run in too and Courtnee finds herself in the middle of the group hug, eyes welling up. 

“YES VINEY!” “FUCKING YES MATE!” 

The atmosphere, you’ve never felt this before and your team celebrates wildly, jumping up and down, screaming and happy tears running down some of your cheeks. 

“Oh my god, we’re through!” your disbelieving tone makes Hayley chuckle and she takes your face into her hands, the smile on her face larger than you have ever seen it be.

“We fucking are, we are fucking winning this shit!” she brings you into a bone crushing hug and you let out a teary laugh at her choice of words.

You back away for just a moment, eyes searching for a tall brunette and when you spot her you see her also looking for you. You’re in your sister’s arms in an instant, tightly clinging on to her as she spins the two of you around, laughs escaping both of your mouths as you hug her head close to your chest.

“Macca, you’re my fucking hero!” you pull back just enough to see her face and she breaks out in a toothy grin, her eyes shining with pride and ecstasy and just about every emotion possible as she lets you back down to your feet. 

“No, you are my hero!” she counters as she cups the back of your neck, leaning down slightly to be at your height. Her words mean the absolute most to you, and the proud look on her face means even more, just like the proud look on yours- it makes both of your hearts swell.

A confused glint flashes in Mackenzie’s eyes as you take her gloved hands into yours but you only continue grinning as you get down on one knee, bowing your head in front of her gloved hands. Those hands have been the ones to save Australia’s ass so many times and you give your sister the praises she deserves even if it’s in the form of a silly bow. Mackenzie throws her head back with a loud watery laugh but the picture taken of the two of you makes headlines the following morning, newspapers filled with Vine’s diVine  game winning goal and Mackenzie’s amazing saves.

Celebrations are taken to the changing room and then to the bus until half the team passes out in exhaustion and the last 20 minutes of the bus ride back to camp is silent, hushed whispers the only thing heard from the few that are still awake, yourself included.

You finally had the chance to talk to your one and only, and that’s exactly what you were doing. 

Your arm is lazily hanging over Steph’s right shoulder as she whispers to you, her body turned towards you. You’re playing with the ends of her hair behind her back but you give her all your attention as you listen to her, the smile on your lips never leaving your face. 

“You did so good today, pretty girl” it makes her face flush and she looks away for a second, a massive smile taking over her features and you have to stop yourself from giggling at the lovesick look in her eyes.

“But I missed that penalty-”

“It doesn’t matter, you played amazing all throughout, Stephy. And that half time speech, my god!” you cut right in and tell her just how it was. The defender drops her head to your shoulder and then tucks it into the crook of your neck as your arms wrap around her to bring her closer.

“You were amazing too” she murmurs into your skin and you bury your nose into her hair.

Mackenzie watches the interaction from just a few rows in front of you, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she turns to Caitlin next to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me they’d be so cute?” she’s met with an incredulous look and a beat of silence passes before the forward next to her deadpans. 

“Because of your initial reaction!?” 

“Oh..right. Forgot about that.” 

The following days your training sessions are focused on defensive work and quick counter attacks. You were getting ready for the semi final against England, ranked second in the world.

That meant close to nothing to your team. After all, the Matildas came into the tournament as the underdogs and now they were one of the last ones still standing. Anything was possible.

#futbol16 #woso imagine #woso x reader #steph catley x reader #mackenzie arnold x reader #caitlin foord x reader #matildas x reader #australia matildas imagine

[mncxbe]

Platonic Dazai x younger sister! Reader who's sassy

Oh yes this is so sweet I cannot. He would defo be such a sweet/ annoying brother tho. Also this takes place after the Ada finds out that Dazai worked with the Mafia. Enjoy♡♡

°☆○

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ Kunikida's pov to enhance the silly

Kunikida entered the office that Monday morning only to find everyone gathered in a big circle around the couch.

"What the...?" he mumbled to himself as he approached his colleagues, half hoping that Dazai didn't have anything to do with whatever was going on.

But of course he did. The young detective brought you, his little sister, to work with him.

"Isn't she absolutely adorable?" cooed Dazai as he pinched your cheek, causing you to frown.

"What am I, twelve?" you replied in an annoyed voice, rolling your eyes.

Kunikida stopped right next to Dazai, shooting him a death glare.

"I wasn't aware it was 'bring your little sibling at work day', Dazai"

"Aww Kunikida san but she asked me to take her with me. She wanted to see you." he said with a wicked smile.

"I never said that, flat ass" you snapped, a pink blush tinting your cheeks. "I just need help with my Maths homework that's all."

"But I could've helped you"

"As if. You didn't even go to school" you said with a provoking smirk but your brother didn't reply, instead turning to Kunikida.

"So can you help her? I'd be most grateful"

Kunikida looked at you for a brief moment. You looked almost like Dazai: the same wavy chestnut hair and brown eyes, but you were a bit thinner and shorter and your arms weren't covered up by bandages.

"Sure. I guess I could. I have a small window in my schedule and-"

"See little one?" chimed Dazai in as he ruffled your hair "Told you he'd help"

"I'm 17, flat ass. I'm not little anymore" you cried out, causing Ranpo to chuckle.

"Hey my ass is not flat" said your brother in the same tone as yours.

"I'd agree with you but then we'd both be wrong"

"Wow she's a feisty one" spoke Yosano between chuckles "I like her."

Dazai's eyes narrowed playfully upon hearing your remark "Very well then, so be it. If you think you're such a big girl why don't you recite the 26th page of your diary? It's about your crush on-"

All the blood in your face drained when you heard your brother talk and you quickly jumped off the couch, covering his mouth with your hands.

"You wouldn't dare."

He smirked, removing your quivering fingers "Oh I would"

"Then I'll hide your bandages"

"Then I'll take your laptop for a day" he said back

"I'll pour soy sauce in your shoes and wet all your socks every morning" you pressed, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes.

"Then I'll tell your Physics teacher about how you cheated on your finals last year."

Your face contorted in a pained expression but you still wouldn't back away. "Then... I'll invite you know who (us, the readers, know it's Chuya👀) to dinner at our place."

Your brother opened his mouth to say something but then immediately closed it, a smile rising to his lips. "Alright smart ass, you won. Now go at my desk and do your homework ok?"

With a proud smirk on your face you nodded, taking your tote bag from the couch and languidly making your way to his desk. You opened your English books, turned on your headphones and began working on your assignments; from time to time, you tapped the sleeve of your mechanical pencil in the rhythm of the song you were listening to.

The others went on with their duties too, leaving only Dazai and Kunikida next to the couch.

"She sure is a lot like you, Dazai." said the latter as he arranged his glasses.

"Well, what can I say." replied Dazai. "I tried to keep her away from the Port Mafia as much as I could, you know. To actually give her a chance in life but I guess she did end up a lot like me in some ways." He sighed "I'm really proud of her tho."

Kunikida only chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know, maybe that's not a bad thing. That's she a lot like you. Plus, despite you she's hardworking."

"Aww Kunukida san did you just compliment me?" With that, Dazai was back to his normal self and the other man frowned, turning on his heels and marching towards his desk.

"I'll help her later with the homework. Go take care of your missions now"

"Suuure Kunikida san" added the brunette. His eyes slid to you again; you'd already written half a page. When you looked up to meet his gaze, you mouthed a silent "What, flat ass?", which made him chuckle. Waving you off, he walked towards the door, his heart swelling with pride and love for you. Dazai never had much of a family, but he sure was happy that you wound up being his little sister.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd headcanons #dazai bsd #dazai x reader #ada bsd #bsd kunikida #poor kunikida

[atarathegreat]

ZombieLand Tokyo Revengers

ft: Takemichi Hanagaki, Ken Ryuguji, Izana Kurokawa, Manjiro Sano

Because when the end of the world takes your lover from you, what else can you do but search for her endlessly?

"I just need help!" Takemichi yelled at the men on top of the makeshift gates. Cars, trucks, even porches were used to create the effective barrier. "Look!" He held up a photo, "I just need help finding this woman!"

The men laughed at him and told him they weren't some search and rescue team. Of course they'd say that, Takemichi thought, why should they risk their lives to help solve my problem? He'd never been in lower spirits and it made him want to curl up and die. His wife, his beautiful wife, was gone. Taken and never returned by the stupid circumstances they found themselves in. The end of the world seems so impossible until you're staring down the maw of another human who's brainless and wants to eat yours.

Months passed, the cold weather setting in and making his hope of finding you shrivel up. Japan was huge, but maybe word could still get around, maybe you'd still come back to him. Or at the very least he could find your corpse wandering around searching for an arm to gnaw on. Hell, maybe he'd even let you take him out. That didn't sound like such a bad way to go. Lost in his thoughts, Takemichi didn't notice the group of survivors circling him in the department store. Or maybe he had? He couldn't tell anymore, all he wanted was his wife.

"Hey." He jolted at the sudden hand on his chest, "Our boss wants you."

Takemichi scoffed out a laugh, walking around they guy while saying something about minding his own business and not pissing anyone off. "Seriously?" Another person came from the shadows, gun to his face, "You're coming with us."

"I've had more guns pointed at me than I care for." Takemichi slumped and let his body hit the floor, "If your boss wants me that badly, drag me."

He hadn't expected them to, but they grabbed his arms and legs and carried him through the infested city. For once, Hanagaki was able to rest and sleep. He dreamed of finally finding her and holding her, crying into her lap as he always had before when it got to be too much. He missed her gentle hold and the way she just knew how to comfort him. As the two struggled to carry him up the stairs into another building, he heard snickering.

"Michi, get up! Stop making them carry you!" There she was, sitting amongst a bigger group of people and children. He didn't care who he fell over, screaming apologies as he crashed into her. She laughed as he stumbled, holding him close as he wrapped around her like a child, crying into her oversized coat. "A winter coat, anyone." She called, her hands rubbing at him to heat up his body, "It's getting colder, Michi. Haven't you tried to keep warm?"

Group after group, camp after camp, and yet Kenny couldn't find her anywhere. He kept his search to himself, he didn't need people feeling bad for him if it turned up that she was dead. Mitsuya knew, of course, because Kenny couldn't just let his brother deal with this shit alone, especially when his sisters were with him.

"She's around somewhere." Kenny sighed, downing a beer they'd managed to scavenge. He hadn't wanted to search the liquor store, but they were running out of options anymore. "If she's alive, she's searching for us, right?" He looked to his friend for assurance. Kenny needed for her to be looking for him, too. He needed to know that she was trying to get back to him. Mitsuya patted him on the back, but said nothing. Last time he tried to comfort his friend it ended in them fist fighting and attracting the attention of a local camp. A camp that, from what they heard, was ruthless and wouldn't hesitate to use them as walker bait.

Kenny looked around the small, four person squad he was leading around. Two women and Mitsuya, all depending on him and he was more worried about finding someone that might be dead. He sighed again, his chest feeling tighter as he cracked open another lukewarm beer.

"Hands!"

Luna and Mana hit the ground as Mitsuya and Kenny stood to aim their own weapons at the intruders. A feeling of pride filled Kenny as he realized the cohesion of his miniscule legion. "Who's there?" Mitsuya called, his eyes trained on the shadows.

"Guns down!" Another yell came from behind them, "I said weapons down! I won't have any qualms shooting any of you!"

Kenny's wife stepped from the shadows and around them all with a gun trained ahead, a gun that was definitely too big for her, "Down, damn it! Lower them!"

"Captain-"

"Down!" She screamed and the sound of many, many weapons hitting the ground followed before she turned to them again, "I found you."

Izana was an unbothered man on the surface, but Kakucho knew his friend was slowly losing it. He was more reckless, less attentive, and overall a danger to the survival of their group as a whole. More than once had the Haitani brothers debated Izana's ability to lead them safely. It wasn't something Kakucho was proud of, but he was also second guessing it. How were they to survive in this hell if the one leading them didn't seem to care anymore?

He didn't know, but he wouldn't stop following.

"She's been here, Kakucho." Izana smiled, his sharp canines showing dangerously in the dim fire light, "I know it sounds stupid, but she's been here. Don't you see how everything is wiped clean? Nothing of use left? She's resourceful."

"Or it's a busy area and other survivors have stripped this bitch clean." Shion scoffed, "Are you really staking our survival on the idea of finding a woman when she's probably dead?"

Kakucho should've broken up the fight, he should've helped Izana and kept him from injuring Shion. Should've, could've, would've. "Izana," He started, "maybe we should focus on ourselves for a while?"

That was almost two weeks ago. None of them had seen Izana since. Until there was a commotion too close to their current shelter and they all hurried to help Izana. Forty against one wasn't fair and they weren't gong to let their friend get killed. Izana was holding his own well enough, but not good enough to beat off the whole town that was surrounding him. And Kakucho was great at using his gun as a club.

"Easy, Kaku!" That voice, could it be. It was! She was blocking his hit, glaring at him as if he had started this fight, "Help me calm Iza down!"

"Just go to him and he'll be fine!" Kakucho yelled, pointing to where Izana was laughing like a mad man and gaining the attention of walkers, "Do it fast or we're all puppy chow!"

How could he have lost her? How had she managed to get so far away from him that he couldn't even whistle and her whistle back? It was getting to Manjiro that he didn't have her at his side while he walked. He stayed holed up in his brothers old shop, waiting for her to come back. That was the deal if they ever got separated, they would meet back at S.S. Motors. It wasn't hard, not by a long shot, but it had been forever and she still wasn't back.

He'd never thought he could miss the nagging and the way she clung to him, but he did. Manjiro would give anything for her to be running up to him after a decent race, her hug suffocating him in his racing jumper even if he was far too sweaty underneath. God, he'd let her smother him to death if only she was right there with him.

"Don't you dare!" Manjiro remembered yelling at her as she went to open a door, "There's a bell on the door, you'll wake anything up that's in there!"

He'd take all that aggravation and fear if only it meant she was with him. Manjiro missed her so damn much. Every little sound was her coming back to him, so he stopped responding to them. He didn't move when his mind created the sound of the door opening, but he jerked around when a body pressed up against his.

"S'just me, Manji." Her voice was tired, hoarse, "Rest, yeah? We'll eat in the morning."

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #x reader #tokyo rev x reader #takemichi hanegaki #takemichi x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #sano manjiro x reader #sano mikey manjiro #draken #mikey #sano mikey x reader #draken x reader

[hai7ani]

CHERRY BLOSSOMS haitani rindou

sfw, nothing happens

home collection | playlist

part ii / i just want you to take me where your heart is.

Rindou is having trouble falling asleep.

He's got a 10 o'clock with the higher ups first thing in the morning. Rindou vividly remembers asking his direct supervisor, Kimura-san on what the meeting is about as soon as he was notified about it.

He’s thought it through -- there is no reason for them to want to see him personally (he’s sure he’s never given them one), nor does he remember doing anything that might have seem out of line, or perhaps appeared a little too out of place in the company. A meeting of only him with the higher ups? It's scary even for someone like Haitani Rindou to face.

"That's exactly it, Haitani. You've been a bit too out of place lately."

Fuck-

"And by that, I mean, you've been showing off brilliant work."

" . . . Excuse me?"

Kimura-san chuckles and brings a wrinkled hand up to pat his junior's back as they walk side by side together through the long corridor that leads to the break room. Rindou fixes his tie out of habit and holds a sealed envelope tight in his hand -- the paper almost crumpled -- as he brings himself together to listen to his senior's words.

"You've been doing great, Haitani. Awesome performance, extremely satisfying work and you're very punctual. Believe me, I'm glad I chose the right person to nominate for this promotion. I've been watching you ever since you started working here as a clerk, and I have to say, I'm proud of you, boy. You've been working hard every day for . . . How long has it been? Five months? Your dedication is worth congratulating. Keep it up, young man. And don't worry about the meeting, it's all part of the promotion process. You'll be fine."

Though Kimura-san's attempt at comforting him worked that day, it certainly failed miserably today. It's less than 7 hours to when he'll soon be standing in front of a conference room facing the Chief Executive and his subordinates, and he doesn’t know why.

What if it goes bad and it's not the kind of meeting that Kimura-san said it would be? What if they're there to tell me I'm rejected for the promotion? Or even worse, fired and-

Rindou suddenly hears a certain conversation of Ran and himself echoing in his head. The loud yet timid 16 year old Rindou and the childish and arrogant 17 year old Ran, that is.

"Keep up that long face and I'll smack you right square, bro. I've taught you better than this. Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

"Idiot. You think everyone in the world is capable of chasing a girl their first time? Especially someone like me?"

"Why wouldn't they? Why wouldn’t you? Look, I've made sure that she likes you back. Shion even told her about how you'd waited 2 hours for her to get off work jus’ to walk her home the other day. Trust me, shitty brother, she's definitely into you too."

"Shion did what?" "You heard me."

"And about that, of course everyone is capable, because I did it." Ran proudly flashes a hardcopy of him and a girl hugging with a cheeky grin. The older boy never misses a chance at showing off, especially to his younger brother who is absolutely sick of him. Rindou moves closer to get a proper look and immediately recognises her as the girl in Ran’s class he’s been courting for months. They’re high school sweethearts now? Unbelievable.

He scoffs at the older boy, "you really did it, huh?"

There’s a certain warm and proud feeling swarming in Rindou’s chest as he gapes at the lovesick grin stuck on Ran’s stupid face. It’s what he deserves, Rindou thought. Ran’s been through hell and back trying to court this girl.

Neither young Ran nor young Rindou knows that in 15 years time, Rindou would be calling Ran's high school sweetheart his sister-in-law and stealing recipes and life hacks from.

"Fuck yeah, dude. So like I said, just do it now or you'll miss your chance and regret it for-fuckin'-ever. Also, just for your information, 'cause I'm Haitani Ran and I'm also your big bro and feel the extreme need to tell you," Ran nods his head to the direction behind Rindou. "There's a guy hitting up your missus at the counter."

Rindou has never snapped his head back so fast.

He sees a man who's about a year or two older than him holding a piece of paper and pen to you by the counter, his mouth moving a lot and you’re listening intently.

Rindou immediately regrets not learning how to lip read.

Though he is certain the man must have said something out of line because he sees you adjusting the collar of your uniform and you’re biting your lip nervously. He knows you by your habits and by looking at that, he's sure you’re feeling uncomfortable by the man’s presence. Rindou wants nothing more than to smack the sly smirk off the man’s face right away, so he stands up.

He'll win this fight.

The loud creak of the wooden chair sliding against the marble floor catches your attention and you shake your head at him with a frown.

I’m fine.

Rindou understands that much from your eyes and sits back down again, with Ran who has an arm hooked behind the chair observing he situation with an amused smirk.

The idiot lives for chaos. "Maybe this'll teach him a lesson." Ran murmurs beneath his breath as he observes how Rindou's leg is bouncing anxiously against the marble beneath his shoe, watching you and the man like a hawk.

You have a soft smile plastered on your lips as you bow at him politely, rejecting his advances.

"I'm sorry, sir . . .

But I already have someone."

Lovestruck Rindou witnesses your pretty little face look away from the man to him. You with the pretty glint in your eyes, staring deep into his surprised purple ones and him who is now a blushing mess as he fakes a cough and push his round metal glasses higher onto his nose. You see his reaction and it almost makes you giggle but you remain collected as you try to get the man in front of you to leave the store, telling him you're not interested and you have to get back to work.

And it's when he finally does, all beat and ruined, when Rindou's legs moves over to the counter -- to you -- almost automatically. He stands in front of you and suddenly it’s blank in his mind. His mouth is ajar as he tries to remember what he's came here to say.

(Rindou to this day still argues and swears it was your overwhelming presence and especially your pretty smile that's made him forget his words while he fiddled with the hem of his black turtleneck like a damn loser.)

Come up with something, you idiot. Quick.

"Rindou-kun?" Oh, good fucking gracious. That voice. The sweet voice that will be the absolute end of him.

He musters up everything in him to speak.

" . . . D'ya wanna go out with me? For lunch tomorrow. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together. Anywhere you want . . . As boyfriend and girlfriend, that is."

You're silent for a minute, and Rindou feels his heart race. It’s hot and humid all of a sudden and he feels like digging a hole and jumping right into it and he doesn't dare look at you and he’s afraid of what's to come. But you call for him again.

"Rindou-kun, please look at me."

The boy wipes his sweaty palms on the dark denim of his Levi’s 501 and chews on his lip. He's so nervous he's certain his mother would be making fun of him when she finds out. Unlike his brother, he’s never been good with girls and has never gone to this extent at courting one. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s been this nervous before. He’s done loads of illegal things, almost landed his ass in juvie multiple times, fought countless of gangs (both big and small), and none of them could compare to what you’re making him feel right now.

You've got a very, very wide smile ready for him when he finally looks up.

“Ask me again, Rindou."

Get yourself together, prick. Be fair to her.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

.

.

.

"Okay."

Rindou thought he’d ascended into heaven.

Today, the same young boy who is now 31 in age and an expecting father, grins at the memory. He's glad he took Ran's advice the other day. As stupid as his older brother can be sometimes, Rindou cannot deny that Ran is always helpful when he needs to be. Always there for him. Otherwise, he wouldn't be having your worn out figure sleeping beside him in your shared bed, the beautiful band on your ring finger shining brightly at him as the moonlight shines in through the curtains he’s forgotten to shut before bed.

He stares at you as you sleep peacefully; the steady rise and fall of your chest indicating that you're feeling comfortable again. It's been difficult for you to fall asleep these days, the kicking getting harder and more frequent.

"She's so impatient to come out." You pout sleepily at the father of your child as you place a hand on your bump and rubbing slow circles, trying to get her to calm down in your belly. "Just another month left, my baby."

He eyes your stomach and leans down to press a soft kiss to the skin, suddenly feeling a kick to his lips and he airily chuckles. It’s almost like the baby in your stomach recognises him . . .

Her father.

"Don't kick your mom so much, girl. Be nice to her." Rindou tells his kid in his heart.

Another kick.

Brat.

You start stirring in your sleep. Shit. You're waking up after finally falling asleep and it's all because of the father and daughter that's ganging up on you. Talking together behind your back. Destroying your sleep.

Absolutely foul.

There's a frown on your face as you move around beneath the blanket, trying to get comfortable again when your husband runs his calloused thumb over the crease between your eyebrows, gently coaxing you back to dreamland.

It's then Rindou hears it another time.

"Stop doubting everything and believe it'll go well instead. Determination pays off, you know."

He reminds himself to give Ran a call when he wakes up.

Rindou has survived the 10 o'clock. It is now 12pm in the afternoon and he's standing in the middle of a fairly new and empty office room with a woman in her early fifties who he recognises as the Operations Manager, Hasegawa Keiko. Everyone calls her Hasegawa-san despite her constant reassurance that simply calling her Keiko is fine.

Rindou directly reports to her now instead of old Kimura. Although being congratulated and trusted deeply by the company, he still feels a bit strange, standing in an office room two floors above his previous one that now has a floor to ceiling view of Tokyo city. He's also been introduced to many new faces that he'll be working with from now on. No more shitty Ito flirting with Ishikawa-san in public and harassing him on going out for drinks or the really irritating habit of the woman clacking her nails on the desk opposite of him, but he supposes he'll adapt sooner or later. He will; Ran told him that he'll be just fine earlier on the phone. He believes in his brother (and you) more than anyone in the world.

"This will be your new office from now on. Feel free to take some time and explore around, make yourself feel comfortable with the environment and so on. And as always, you can ask me if you're unsure about anything. I'll be in my office most of the time down the hall if you have any further questions." The corners of Hasegawa-san's eyes crinkles and Rindou instantly feels more at ease at her warm welcoming. She reminds him a bit of his late mother.

"I'll leave you to it now. Looking forward to working with you, Haitani-san." And with that, she shuts the door behind her, leaving him alone inside.

The silence is overwhelming.

Rindou immediately fishes out his phone in the pocket, dials in the familiar digits he's long memorised and presses the gadget to his ear.

You pick up after the third ring.

"Baby? How'd it go? Are you okay?" He smiles giddily as he pictures the worried expression on your face and you’re probably sitting on the couch watching TV.

(Everything he’d pictured is exactly what you’re doing, by the way. You've also just finished two bowls of plain white rice fresh from the pot without yourself knowing due to how anxious you felt on behalf of him.)

Your husband simply brushes you off. "Whatcha doin'? Are you eating?”

"Answer my question, Haitani!" He laughs at your tone, "take a guess, babe."

"Well, I’on fuckin' know! That's why I'm asking you.”

He thinks of how to put his words into a statement without sounding too overly happy.

"I've got it, you know.”

You have big, red question marks hanging on top of your head as you wait for him to continue on the other line.

"The promotion . . . I've got it."

Rindou spends his lunch break on the terrace talking to you on the phone. He’s eating the bento you prepared this morning before he left for work. "Finish it, 'kay? The broccoli is expensive." You nagged, knowing how much he despises the said vegetable, but it's included in the new diet he's been keen on trying so he's fine with it. He has you to keep him on track, after all.

He picks up the miserable vegetable with his chopsticks and pushes it into his mouth. Jesus- He closes his eyes as he forces it down the throat.

"Fuck, this is so painful." He coughs when he finally swallows it. You hum from the other line, "what is?"

"The broccoli. Fuckin' hell."

"Sucks to be you. Broccoli's so delicious I don't understand why anyone even hates it. You're weird. Rin."

"Says the person who doesn't eat egg whites."

"Egg whites' got no taste. It should be inedible. It's disgusting."

"And I'm the weird one."

Rindou's been so immersed in talking to you that he doesn't hear the door to the terrace opening and closing. He thought it was just him there, considering everyone else has already went out for lunch and some still remained in their respective offices finishing up paperwork.

He doesn't hear the click of a lighter and cigarette paper burning behind him as he continues to bicker with you on the speaker about why egg whites are delicious and broccolis are not.

"Anyway, I've had 'nuff. I'll be confiscating your watch-Gilmore Girls-with-me rights tonight if you don't finish your broccoli. Your daughter agrees wit' me."

"You know damn well I never miss an episode.”

"Sure, we'll see. I've got clothes to fold now, mostly yours. Bye, weirdo."

"Have I told'cha how noisy you are, mama?" He complains and you laugh and hang up after Rindou reminding you for the third time to take your daily vitamins and wear your grippy socks. That's when the eavesdropper decides to make their presence known.

Rindou nearly chokes on his food when he hears a deep voice speaking behind him. "Your wife?"

He turns around with a mouthful of rice as he takes in the situation. Oh, it's him.

The man who he recognises as Sakoda-san is sitting on a chair with his hands tucked into his pockets, a burning cigarette hanging from his lips.

The same guy who frequents a whorehouse all the way in Kabukichō. Yeah, that one. The one who keeps a polaroid of his children in his wallet on the bedside table while he fucks other women in their rooms, telling them he loves them when he doesn't even mean it.

Saying things for the sake of saying it; Rindou doesn't like that.

He decides to keep his distance as he swiftly finishes the food in his mouth. Of course, he didn't forget his manners.

"Yeah, my wife."

Sakoda-san observes Rindou from the corner of his eyes. How the young man is feeding himself spoon after spoon of the bento, especially the broccoli while he scrolls through his phone, catching up on the latest news and watching random videos that appear on his feed.

"How far along is she?"

Rindou doesn't feel like replying. He's always been a private man who keeps matters to himself, but he thinks it's not fair to the baby in your stomach, his daughter, who he feels her existence should be made known. She's not a secret and shouldn't be kept as one.

"Roughly 8 months. She's due in September."

"A girl?" "Yeah." "What's her name?" "Sakiya." "Sakiya for cherry blossom?" "Yeah." "Your wife picked it?" "We picked it."

Okay, he decides this is as far as he'll go. He starts clipping on the lid of the bento and wiping his mouth with a napkin, ready to leave the terrace (of course he doesn't make it obvious) but Sakoda-san speaks again.

"That's nice. I have a girl too. She's 11 this year. And also a boy who's turning 6." Rindou simply nods and wraps up the bento in the fancy cloth you bought at a bazaar in Harajuku. "Would you like to see a photo of them?"

He stops moving. Rindou thinks of all the options, and the one he feels like picking the most is saying no and leaving.

But he shouldn't be cruel. As much as the man he's talking to is a bad person, a bad father, a bad husband, the children have done nothing wrong. He shouldn't be cruel. It's just an innocent picture of two young children.

"Sure." He agrees out of courtesy and Sakoda-san instantly slips out the polaroid from his wallet and hands it to him. Rindou takes and looks at it carefully. They don't look too happy in it.

"I always keep this with me. Gives me a little push in life, you know?"

A little push? To do all those things to his family?

Rindou is instantly reminded of the many ultrasounds of his daughter attached on the fridge with cute bunny magnets that he glances at every day when grabbing milk from the fridge before leaving for work. He figures that a little push in life contains different meanings to both him and Sakoda-san. It makes him feel sick to the core.

"Nice photo." He hands it back to the man after he finishes looking and stands. Rindou grabs the bento by the handle and is ready to leave, when Sakoda-san stops him once again.

"How good of a drinker are you?"

"I don't drink." Liar. He was fucking Haitani Rindou of Roppongi, for fuck's sake.

"Smoke?"

"I quit."

"Why?"

"Wife's pregnant."

The older man laughs at his blunt responses.

"Your life must be pretty boring, huh?"

Rindou doesn't look back at him when he mutters these words.

"At least I am not you."

It is now past lunch break and back to working hours that Rindou finds himself standing outside of Hasegawa-san's office. He has been for the past few minutes now, actually. Thinking about what to say and what to do; if she’ll approve of him or get pissed off.

He doesn't have the courage to go in.

Rindou had contemplated on keeping the topic away from his boss for now and simply bring it up another time, but he knows that it's not possible; it's only a short time away to when you're due and it’s also not fair to you either.

Finally, after making up his mind, he musters up all the courage in him to knock on the door. He waits for the faint come in and twists the knob.

"I was wondering when you'd come in."

Shit, it was that obvious?

Hasegawa-san closes the file she was working on and leans back in her chair while gesturing to the one in front of her desk. "Have a seat, Haitani-san." He immediately follows with a creak echoing in the room, not wanting to waste more time than he already has.

"You're nervous." It's not a question, it's a statement. And Rindou knows it as he feels himself growing hot and he coughs and sits up straight. "Sorry."

"What is it you're here for?" Hasegawa-san breaks the silence first. Rindou looks down at the half crumpled envelope in his hand, thinking a little before laying it flat on her table and pushing it forward with the letters on it facing her.

She stares at the envelope before swiftly opening it up to read. Rindou watches intently as her eyes go over the letter word by word, before finally folding the paper back to it's original form and laying it down on her desk.

You don't know about this, Rindou reminds himself as he waits patiently for Hasegawa-san to process his letter. You don't know about this, so he has to be serious. He has to be straightforward and sure. He can't be leaving you alone at this time because he doesn't have the balls to request for something that will mean the world to you.

The woman leans on her elbows and looks at him with an unreadable expression. He can't tell what’s going through her mind right now. Is it good or bad? Oh, she's squinting her eyes now. Do I need to say something? Fuck, this is so confusing.

"So, according to your letter, you will be away for . . . 2 months? That's a pretty long time. And it's your first day in this department."

The atmosphere is intense.

Thinking that he needs to speak up, Rindou pulls himself together and starts explaining to his boss.

"I know it may seem unacceptable, considering that I am just only in charge of this position. I am also aware that there will be no one to take over my duties when I'm away due to a short of hands, but my family is important and-"

"-tell me, Rindou." She cuts him off with a stern look. "How much does your wife matter to you?"

He doesn't hesitate in answering. It's immediate. Quick. Determined. Sure.

"Everything."

The tension in Hasegawa-san’s face loosens and she smiles. "Then there's no reason to further explain yourself. It’s all written clearly in your letter and letting you go to be with her is what a decent human being should do.” She pauses, “I wish my husband did that for me as well. I'm a woman too, so I know how it must feel to want her husband with her at this period of time.”

To say Rindou is shocked is an understatement. A higher up that doesn't ask questions? Doesn't make you wonder if your decision was right or wrong? Doesn't shame you for having different priorities?

No. It's not because she's being soft. It’s not because she’s biased. It's not because she doesn't care.

It's because she understands.

"I wish for her a safe delivery. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl."

"How nice. I have three sons myself, I wish I had a girl too, to accompany me and so on. Boys grow up a lot faster than girls do." She laughs.

Rindou places both his hands on his knees as he lets out a breath of relief. Other than the meeting earlier today, letting his boss know that he will need to take some time off is also what's been clouding his mind for the entire week.

Your due date has clashed with the moment his work became much more serious and now he has to pick between the two: to stay with work and continue to fulfil his new duties and responsibilities while pouring his heart and soul into his shitty company or to stay at home and take care of you when everyone else is busy taking care of the baby.

And the answer is clear, actually. He'll never let anything, especially work, get between him and his family, and he's never let himself be placed in a position where he feels obliged to choose between the two. If he is, then you and the baby will always come first, no matter what, and he'll quit his job if he has to.

Letting Hasegawa-san know about this is just for him to find out if he has to quit his job to stay with you or not.

And luckily, he doesn't have to. Because Hasegawa-san is an angel in disguise and he feels so terribly relieved. God, he misses you so much. He really wants to go home and kiss you right now.

"You can go now. I'll sort things out with HR. You should take the rest of the day off, too. Go celebrate with your wife and spend some time with her. And please don't worry about work, I'll have a substitute soon for your position."

"Thank you, Hasegawa-san."

"You're welcome, and Keiko is fine. You remind me a lot of my second boy, by the way."

And you remind me of my mother.

"I'll see you soon, son. Take good care of your wife, yeah?"

"I will, Keiko-san."

You are in the midst of hanging up his clothes in the closet when Rindou arrives home.

"ただいま."

"Huh? Why are you home at this hour?"

He kisses your forehead and takes the hanger from your hand. He tells you to sit down and you listen and . . . Great. He's taken charge of hanging his own clothes now.

Rindou is always doing the chores whenever he can now that you're too pregnant to move around even when you insist to him that you can do it. "I like to move around, Rin. 'Don't like to sit around 'n daydream all day, it's boring."

"Boss' let me off early." He states nonchalantly and you raise a brow. You see your husband organising his clothes by colour and you suddenly feel some kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Much to you and his brother's demise, Rindou used to be the kind of person who doesn't hang his clothes and just throws it in his closet when he's done with the laundry but that changed drastically when he met you. You always nagged at him to hang them up and sort it out by colour, by shirt category, so it'll look more organised and neat when he opens the closet.

"Why?" "I'll tell you later." "Why can't you tell me now?" "It's a surprise." "Huh?"

You're so confused.

Rindou is facing you now. "Have you showered?" You shake your head and remove the claw clip from your hair, scratching at your scalp. "Not yet. I needa' wash my hair, though. It's kinda itchy."

"I'll wash for you." He leads you to the bathroom slowly and helps you into the shower when you both are stripped off your clothes.

You're standing on the non-slip mat and adjusting the water temperature when Rindou joins you in the shower. "I'll take you out tonight. What'chu feel like eating?" He rinses through your body and you hum softly as he starts lathering shampoo on your hair. "Dunno, but I don't feel like eating something spicy, though."

"You want western?" You let out a sigh when he scratches at the itchy spot just above your ear, "sure."

The both of you don't speak after that, choosing to relish in the comfort of the warm water running down your bodies but you're suddenly reminded of it. Cheers to him for managing to butter you up successfully.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're home early?"

"'Told'cha, boss' let me off early." "Yeah, but why?" "I'll tell you over dinner." "You're pissing me off, Rin. Tell me now."

Okay, you're getting mad.

He's grown used to your mood swings over the course of this pregnancy and after so long, he's figured that the best way to deal with it is just by simply accepting it. It'll go away eventually and he should be patient with you and your emotions. After all, it's harder on you.

But he can't deny that it's a bit funny, though. You're getting mad at him because he won't tell you the actual reason he's home early while he's busy washing your hair yet you're purring whenever he scratches at a certain spot on your scalp.

"I got some time off. You know, when you give birth then I'll get to be home 'n take care of you 'n 'Kiya."

"Oh, so you're a romantic."

"Of course."

You feel so happy after listening to him that you turn around (slowly) and pull him down for a quick smooch. "Here's one from 'Kiya." And you kiss him harder this time, "'n one from me."

Rindou is dumbfounded when he looks at you who has literal hearts in your eyes as you hold his face in your hands like he's fragile porcelain, like he's some fine china. You run your thumbs over his cheekbones and pinch his cheeks.

(Doing that made you remember the times you liked to pinch his chubbier ones when you were still teenagers.)

"'Love you."

You with soapsuds in your hair proclaiming your love to your husband for the nth time over the course of 15 years (before and after marriage) and him with his fingers tangled in your hair as he continues scrubbing.

He smirks handsomely, "you tryna skimp out on the kisses, mama? I know my daughter ain't so stingy with 'em," he removes his hands to touch on your bump, "gimme one more, baby."

A kick.

"She jus' said no."

"She said yes, you brat."

You hold him by the neck and softly inhale the scent of his musky body wash that you've grown to find comfort in. He's so endearing that you don't want to let go.

You never want to let go of him.

Rindou lands two strong and assuring hands on your waist and keeps you close to his body.

"Quit sniffin' me, I still need to wash your hair."

You suck on his neck and he squeezes your ass in return. It's nothing sexual or anything, you just like sucking on his neck randomly and Rindou never passes up the chance to grip on your fat.

Some of the foam from your hair has gotten to his face and he simply washes it off with water, though you still don't let go of him.

"Never change your body wash, babe."

"I know . . . You tell me that every day."

Rindou is helping you pick out your outfit as you sit by the dresser doing your makeup. He's holding two dresses in his hands,

"Do you wanna wear this?”

Option A: a long red floral one that he bought for you while away at a business trip in Kyoto. He saw it while passing by and immediately stopped the car to cop it from the old lady. It wasn't for a special occasion or anything, he'd just seen it and felt like buying it for you and you haven’t got the chance to wear it until today.

"Or this?"

Option B: a shorter navy blue sundress that is obviously a little too tight and small for you right now.

“Baby, please. You know I can’t fit in that.” “I know. ‘Was just foolin’ wit’ ya.” “I’ll bite you.” “Go 'head.”

He lays the red dress down flat on your bed and plops down beside it, waiting for you to get ready. “I’m still halfway done wit’ the nursery. I’ll have more time to work on it now that I’m home.” Rindou says and you finish clipping on your right earring. “It’s just the crib and rocking chair left now, right?” You’re referring to the unfinished pieces of furniture that’s sitting in the nursery room next door and he hums as a response.

"Are we finished buying Sakiya's stuff? We can get the remaining later when we’re out. Settle it sooner, you know?"

“No, we’re finished. Ran ‘n Miwa have already bought tons for us.” You think of your sister-in-law who seems more excited for Sakiya's arrival than you, constantly buying you gifts like clothes and toys for the baby whenever she and Ran comes over for dinner together. “Auntie Miwa and Uncle Ran are so excited to see you, girl.” Miwa squeals as she touches your baby bump, feeling a soft kick to her palm.

“Ran is helping us save money now?” You laugh at his joke, “he seems enthusiastic to do so.”

In another city all the way in Ikebukuro is Ran in his home office sneezing with Miwa standing behind him massaging his back. “You’ve got a cold too? Everyone around me is getting a cold and it isn’t even flu season. I’ll have to stay away from you now, Ran. I don’t like getting sick.” She blabbers along and Ran simply hushes her down with a hand to her mouth. Miwa licks it and he retracts his hand away with a scowl, “you’re nasty, love. And you talk too much.” Miwa places a hand on her hip as she looks down at her husband like a mother scolding her son, “I’m not the one sneezing and at a risk of falling sick.” “It’s just Rindou talkin’ ‘bout me, wifey. I know it, I can feel it.”

Back home in Ueno is Rindou sneezing again. “Stupid Ran, he talkin’ ‘bout me too? Asshole.” “Huh?”

Neither Ran nor Rindou stops sneezing for the next five minutes and you and Miwa are left confused, wondering about just how strong these two brothers’ telepathy senses are.

You are actively ignoring your husband’s mumbling and cursing about stupid Ran this, stupid Ran that while combing your hair and Miwa isn’t even in the room with Ran anymore.

“Stop sneezing, Rin.” “Then tell Ran to stop talkin’ ‘bout me.” “Shaddap, you’re just makin’ things up.” “‘M not.”

While blowing his nose on a tissue you handed him, Rindou hears you humming along to a song playing on the radio and he instantly feels at peace.

He's home, you're sitting pretty on the stool, you'll be enjoying Western food together at a fancy restaurant downtown later tonight, and Sakiya will be here anytime soon.

Everything is calm and fine,

and Rindou thinks he will never be giving up this serenity for the world. He'll burn it up if he has to; if it guarantees his family forever peace and happiness.

There can only be his family.

His love. His heart.

reblogs are appreciated & i hope you guys enjoyed this! ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

ending is a bit rushed cus idk anymore he's successfully rotted my brain and i have fallen onto my knees for this man

#r1988 #home collection #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers #ran x reader