#and looking back and admitting that I was so sick so young and was able to get over it is something that’s fucking amazing and fucking

[philsmeatylegss]

Me like 99% of the time: “Lol, yeah, I was super suicidal and severely mentally ill when I was 13/14. I was so cringe. Glad I’m better and can make light of the topic. What a wreck lol”

Me that 1% of the time: …I was suicidal when I was 14

#never realized how fast I moved on #I went from being super sick and once I got better I just erased the past #everything that happened then was something cringe my middle school self did #MIDDLE SCHOOL #I WAS A CHILD #no child should ever be so sad they want to kill themself #I guess I’ve never given it thought #never mourned or reflected what I lost and what happened to me #I guess it’s just easier to completely separate that part of me than remember it #because it’s painful and hard to remember #I wasn’t a good person then I was in a lot of pain and I was so young #no one wants to think about that #but now I have such a huge disconnect between that time of my life and who I am now #I’ve completely made that part of my life a separate entity #and it’s literally been this past month or two that’s i realized this #I’ve spent the past three-ish years just making fun of myself at that time period because it’s easier than thinking about that part of #my life #it’s a chapter I don’t want in my story but keeping it out leaves this awkward blank space #I’ve never been good at receiving apologies or praised for doing something hard #and looking back and admitting that I was so sick so young and was able to get over it is something that’s fucking amazing and fucking #horrifying and I’m allowed to feel those things without pushing it away and making a joke about it #this is so random I meant for this to be a lol relatable post #delete later #rae’s rambles

[missmatchablossom]

summary: you've been helping your neighbor, gojo satoru, out by babysitting megumi. when megumi's catches the flu, gojo relies on you for help.

a.n.: megumi is ~4-5 years old, and is extremely attached to you. a little angsty, mostly fluffy, a sprinkle of smut at the end. cursing, female reader.

~

The first time Megumi got sick, Gojo panicked. Not the frantic, frenzied sort of panic, but the quiet, desperate kind that he did his best to hide. But you noticed it - the way his fingers trembled, the way he barely looked you in the eye, the way he repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.

It was usually you who made the elevator trip up to Gojo’s high-rise loft to babysit Megumi a couple of days a week. That’s why it took you aback to see him at your door at 11:53 at night, looking stricken as he told you Megumi refused to eat all day and started throwing up. 

You followed him to his place immediately, your heart squeezing at the sight of Megumi bundled up in his bed, his little face scrunched up in discomfort.

“Hey sweetie, you’re not feeling so good?” you cooed, kneeling as you placed your cheek against his warm forehead. He shook his head, though his flushed cheeks and labored breathing were enough confirmation that he was sick.

“He’s running a fever. Probably a cold, but you should take him to the ER just in case,” you told Gojo, watching as his shoulders tensed. He was slightly older than you, but still young to have a child; you could imagine how anxious he was feeling about Megumi’s first ER visit.

“I can come with you,” you offered, watching his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

“Please,” he said lowly, looking at you like you were his salvation.

You made quick work changing Megumi out of his sweat-soaked clothes and prepared a small bag of his favorite snacks and toys. You caught a glance at Gojo’s awe-stricken face before you scooped Megumi into your arms and followed Gojo to his car. 

The silence in the car ride was heavy, Gojo’s stress was obvious in the way he gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingertips turned white.

“He’ll be okay. I’ll be here until he is,” you said gently.

His eyes flicked to you for a second before he swallowed roughly. He nodded, murmuring his thanks before you lost him to his thoughts.

Megumi was seen within the hour, the perfect patient as he allowed himself to be examined without a fuss (As long as you held his hand the entire time).

“It’s the stomach flu, pretty common for this time of the year. I’ll send you home with some medications, just be sure to keep him hydrated,” the doctor said.

“Let mom and dad take care of you, alright Megumi? You’ll get better in no time,” she said kindly, patting his head as he nodded sleepily. You looked at Gojo, waiting for him to correct her. But he didn’t.

As soon as she left the room, Gojo sank into the chair, exhaling heavily as he placed his head in his hands. It was strange to see a man so proud and confident to look so…tired. So human.

You stood between his legs, gingerly laying your hand on his shoulder.

“See? Megumi will be just fine,” you said, swiping your thumb back and forth over his skin.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt scared like that,” he admitted, reaching up to cover your hand with his.

“It’s how you know you’re a parent,” you said, moving your hand to cup his cheek.

He finally looked up at you, a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and something else painted in those eyes of his. You watched him wordlessly as he leaned into your touch, his long lashes fanning across his cheeks. 

After a beat, his eyes snapped open, looking downwards as a sleepy Megumi tugged at his pant leg.

“Home now please?” he asked groggily, barely able to keep himself upright.

The two of you laughed as Gojo lifted him into his arms, Megumi settling his head on Gojo’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go home,” he said, wrapping his jacket around Megumi. You could’ve sworn he was looking at you as he said it, though.

~

Sick Megumi was unexpecedly clingy. The first few times you babysat him, you were taken aback by how quiet and independent he was. Most kids his age demanded constant attention, but he was happy to be left alone with his two dogs. You did find out that shadowpuppets was a surefire way to get him to laugh, though. 

You tried getting Megumi to rest in his bedroom, but as soon as the preschooler realized you weren’t right next to him, he’d get up to wander Gojo’s loft, tearfully calling your name until he found you. That's why you decided to settle down on the leather recliner in the living room, Megumi asleep on your chest with a blanket draped over the two of you. You were immersed in your Kindle before the sound of the front door unlocking dragged you back to reality.

Gojos strolled in, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the two of you. His sharp eyes eyes softened as he approached.

“Welcome home. You’re back early,” you greeted quietly, your heartbeat quickening as Gojo lowered himself to a crouching position so he could sneak a look at Megumi’s face.

His eyes flickered to yours, full of emotion you couldn’t quite place. He swept a few strands out of Megumi’s eyes, studying him like he needed to confirm that he was breathing.

“I may or may not have snuck away,” Gojo mused, eyes full of warmth and mischief.

“Careful, or this one will begin picking up some bad habits,” you teased, rubbing Megumi’s back as he stirred.

“Nah, he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes. Besides, there are more important things than work,” he said fondly, and the way his eyes flowed between the two of you while he talked, it felt like he was talking about you too.

You averted your eyes as you blushed, thankful that Megumi chose that moment to wake up. 

His little fists rubbed against his half-closed eyes, looking between you and Gojo like he was wondering if he was dreaming. 

He reached his hands out towards Gojo, who readily scooped him into his arms.

“Alright, I’ll get going then. I already gave him his meds and a bath so he should be okay for the rest of the night,” you said, gathering your things as you sat up.

You leaned forward to kiss Megumi goodbye, only to be stopped by the tears welling up in his eyes and the grip his hand had on your own.

“Don’t go,” he said, almost making you cry with how sad and adorable he was. 

“Not fair Megumi. You don’t even cry when I leave,” Gojo teased, rubbing his back as you laughed.

“Gojo is home now my love, I’ll see you tomorrow though! I’ll already be here by the time you wake up,” you promised, wiping the tears from his soft cheeks.

Megumi sniffed as he shook his head, reaching his arms out towards you. You took him back into your arms, giggling at Gojo’s feigned hurt expression.

“I’m hurt, Megumi,” he said, making a show of wiping fake tears from his face.

“Oh no, look how sad he is Megumi! Don’t you want to spend some time with him?” you said, inching closer to Gojo, whose arms were outstretched.

Megumi looked at him for a second before shaking his head, burying his face in your neck. 

You laughed even harder at Gojo’s expression, unable to find Megumi anything except utterly adorable. 

“Fine, I get it. I would’ve chosen her too,” Gojo said, throwing you off with the affection in his smile. 

“I can stay untill he falls asleep,” you mouthed to Gojo, hoping he could read your lips. He smiled at you before leaning into your space, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“Or you could stay for dinner. As a friend, not a babysitter,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I couldn’t impose,” you replied, a bit more breathlessly than you intended.

“Nonsense. I’ve been dying to cook you dinner while you sit prettily in that chair,” Gojo said, seemingly pleased at the blush revisiting your cheeks. 

How could I say no to that?

~

The sun had set long before you were finally able to get Megumi to bed for the night, the moonlight seeping into Gojo’s living room through the enormous windows.

You allowed yourself to sink down onto his couch, the exhaustion from the day wearing on you. Though Megumi’s fever finally broke, he could barely keep his food down today, forcing you to go back and forth bathing him, changing his bedsheets, and cooking different meals to see what he could stomach.

The click of the door being unlocked made you jump, the familiar sight of Gojo making you forget about how tired you were.

He sauntered towards you, looking so enraptured that he didn’t speak a word. 

You froze as you understood why. The usual modest clothes you had on were long forgotten after repeated trips to the bathtub to wash the vomit and sweat off Megumi. The chaos of the day left you in your underclothes -  a thin tank top and cotton shorts - which Gojo seemed to be studying as though he’d never seen them before.

“Welcome home,” you began shyly, sitting up as you attempted to cover yourself with a pillow.

“Sorry about the outfit. Long day,” you continued sheepishly.

Gojo’s eyes finally snapped up to yours, somehow making you feel more naked than ever.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, something unreadable in his tone. 

He changed out of his work attire - taking off his watch, loosening his tie, and stripping off his jacket. Completely normal things to do when you get home. But he captivated your attention, unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

“I can’t believe I’m jealous of a child,” he said to himself as he sat to join you on the couch, looking sinfully handsome with his hair tousled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

“What do you mean?” you pressed, feeling your self-control begin to slip as you smelled as his cologne wafting towards you.

“Megumi gets to be with you all day. Gets to hug you, hold you, lay his head on your chest. I’m jealous,” he drawled.

You heard it again. That voice in the back of your head begging you to give in to the pull you constantly felt towards Gojo. 

You dared to inch closer, well aware of his gaze roving up and down your body.

“You can do those things,” you said slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. And just like that, he snapped.

He was on you instantly, pinning you to the back of the couch as his lips moved against yours, desperate and demanding. 

You kissed him back with the same fervor, shamelessly roving your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, until you reached his hair. His silvery locks were just as silky as you expected, and you couldn’t help yourself as you gave them a light tug.

The deep, guttural sound that came out of him sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body. You felt your breath leave you as Gojo laid you on your back, positioning himself between your legs.

“I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you,” he murmured against your ear. His lips began moving from your jaw down your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm as he smiled against you.

“I kept myself on a tight leash for Megumi’s sake,” he started, trailing kisses across your shoulders.

“But you in that outfit? Fuck, I knew it was over for me,” he said, pulling back to admire how flushed and breathless he made you.

You grabbed the edge of his collar, tugging his lips to yours to return the favor. You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, his ragged breathing music to your ears.

“Fucking finally,” you said between kisses.

The sound of a thud coming from Megumi’s room caused you both to freeze. You rushed over to check on him, relieved to see he kicked his water bottle off his bed in his sleep. Sighing, you dragged the blanket back over his sleeping form, walking back to where Gojo sat on the couch.

His pupils were blown out, his lips bruised and swollen. 

“Maybe we should continue another time, I don’t wanna wake him up,” you said, surprised at Gojo’s lack of protest. Instead, he tugged you into his lap, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”

#gojo fanfic #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #female reader #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #megumi fluff #fushiguro fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #gojo headcanons #gojo hurt/comfort #gojo drabbles #baby megumi #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk smut #satoru gojo #gojo smut #jjk satoru

[azsazz]

Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

_________________________________________

“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere. 

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it. 

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you. 

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened. 

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach. 

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.” 

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.” 

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room. 

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind. 

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that. 

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth. 

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words. 

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?” 

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?” 

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight. 

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.” 

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

#rhysand x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhys acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[mykoreanlove]

conditional

„Baby? I’m home.“

Hyunjin came back from practice, beaten and tired, but eager to see you again. He threw his new Versace bag in the corner and scouted the area for you. “Baby?”

But his baby was nowhere to be found. He looked for you in every room – the living room was empty even though there were still some vanilla scented candles burning. Your bedroom was empty too, it still looked the same way it did when Hyunjin left you this morning. Now he was getting worried. “Y/Nnie?” He opened the door to your office but that was empty, too. Silently, he muttered to himself. “Damn, y/n, where are you?”

It wasn’t until he opened the door to the bathroom that he found you – passed out on the cold marble tiles.

Hyunjin was startled but quickly regained composure as he noticed your journal right next to you. He smirked amused. “Did you fall asleep while journaling again? What are you manifesting this time, baby?”

He crouched down and took a look at your journal, his handsome features suddenly turned ice-cold. Privacy was important in every relationship, especially this one, but he couldn’t help himself. He scanned the pages roughly – words of self-abuse were written all over those white pages. Hyunjin turned around and took a good look at you. Your face, even though you were asleep, looked in distress. Your cheeks were reddened, eyes puffy with your mascara smeared, turning you into a panda. “My baby cried herself to exhaustion”, he muttered in disbelief.

Your boyfriend decided to let you sleep for a while and invaded your privacy instead, he needed to know what made you upset like this. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? No.

He sat right next to you and took your journal into his hands. He once gifted you this brown leather book, in the hopes of you filling it with the most beautiful words. But what was written in here was far from beautiful.

I had a talk with Chan today. His daddy sensors were tingling, and he somehow knew that I felt off. I swear to God, he sees me as another kid of his. But I admit, it feels nice. I don’t like talking about my insecurities but with him it’s kinda easy. I never talk about them with anyone, not even Jinnie. I just can’t. I don’t want to.

Hyunjin stopped reading and let out a deep sigh. He looked at you again, wondering why you kept secrets from him. It hurt him tremendously, the love of his life couldn’t communicate her deepest pain with him. Instead, she talked to his hyung? He would confront Chan later, now was not the time for more drama.

How did I end up talking to Chan in the first place? Well, I ran into him when I was on the way back home. I had a very important doctor’s appointment today.

Hyunjin’s whole body shuddered, anxiety taking over. An important doctor’s appointment? How did he not know this? Were you sick? Was something wrong? He panicked, internally debating if he should wake you this instant. He chose to continue reading instead.

I have very bad period cramps and decided to check them out, so I went to the doctor. And he did some tests and what do you know? I might not be fertile. Can you believe that? Me, a young woman in the prime of her life, may not be fertile. I might never become a mom. Jinnie might never become a dad. At least, not with me.

Hyunjin choked.

Panicked, he turned around and faced you again. “Baby. My baby, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry that you had to handle this on your own. Oh my god, y/nnie.” He caressed your cheek with his hand and watched you sleep. He felt guilty, as if he missed out on important parts of your life. Why didn’t you trust him with this?

He noticed the tear strains on the next pages, tearing up as well.

It’s not fair.

Life is not fair. Why is something like this happening to me? I always took care of my body. I eat healthy, I work out, I take my vitamins but somehow, I’m not able to become a mom? Heck, I don’t even know if I want kids, but now I probably will never have the choice to decide.

Why me?

Hyunjin stopped reading for a second. He felt your pain in every written word and it shook him to the core. He couldn’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your skin right now.

And after this appointment I ran into Chan in the park. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I guess I needed to let off some steam. I told him about the test results, and I told him that I felt like a giant failure, and I told him that I had no idea how I should tell Jinnie. Or rather if I should tell him at all or simply break up with him.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at your dramatic ass. “As if you just could break up with me y/n. You’re stuck with me forever.” He continued reading.

Chan just listened and asked me one single question. Just one.

Do you believe you’re worthy of being loved?

Isn’t it funny how one question can catch you off guard? Because that is exactly what happened. And now I’m sitting here on the cold bathroom floor trying to make sense of it.

Do I believe I’m worthy of being loved?

“Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes”, Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

I guess?

I mean I have a wonderful boyfriend who clearly loves me very much, so the answer kind of has to be yes.

But do -I- believe I am worthy of being loved?

Hyunjin paused one last time and looked at you. He wondered if he should stop reading, he wondered if he was armed for whatever was about to come. Did you really not believe you were worthy of being loved? He felt the pit in his stomach, realizing he had to be the shittiest boyfriend on the planet. Not only did you keep secrets from him, but you also questioned something so banal. Wasn’t it his job to show you the exact opposite?

He let out a sigh and continued reading.

If I’m totally honest? No.

I never felt like that. I always felt like I had to be perfect in order to be worthy of love. But I never was perfect. And I never will be. My tits are too small. My tummy is too fat. My hair is too flat. My lips are too thin. I’m not cool enough. Now I’m not healthy enough. And soon I won’t be young enough. So no, I never felt like I was good enough to be loved.

Hyunjin cried silently, reading every word with care.

How the fuck am I supposed to tell Jinnie? He is going to leave me; he should leave me. I’m not normal, I’m flawed. I don’t deserve to be with him. He deserves someone better, someone on his level. Someone that is just as beautiful and popular as him. Someone with big tits and a flat tummy and super big hair and plush lips that he can kiss all night long. Someone that is healthy and might gift him a child someday. That can never be me.

Hyunjin tossed your journal aside and started bawling, his sobs distracting the silence of the night. He couldn’t believe this; he couldn’t believe you. Were you serious? That's what you thought of yourself? Why did you hate yourself so much?

His crying woke you up, alerting you in seconds. You got up on your feet and hugged him, holding him as tight as you could. “Jinnie, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

He hugged you back and sobbed into your shirt, you were barely understanding a word.

“You, y/n, you’re what’s wrong!”

You paused, scanning the room for your journal. It was lying on the floor next to your crying boyfriend.

“Did you…?”

He nodded, wiping away his tears. Anger masked the shame you were feeling as you wanted to get up, but he was quicker and hugged you in the tightest embrace known to mankind.

“I had no right to, I’m sorry y/nnie. I am so, so sorry.”

Even though you felt ashamed you were relieved, too. Finally, the cat was out of the bag, and you didn’t have to carry this big burden on your own. You hugged for a while, both of you crying silently.

“Can we talk about what you wrote?”

“Do we need to?” You looked down.

His index finger tilted your chin carefully, looking at you with the utmost care. “Yes, my love. We need to.”

You sighed and gave in.

“Do you really feel that way?”

“Hm.”

“Do you think I’m perfect?”

“Of course. You are perfect, Jinnie.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Sometimes you remind me of a fourteen-year-old girl, y/n.”

You got offended: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You do realize that nobody is perfect? Not even me?”

You scoffed. “Did you tell your face that?”

He let out a laugh. “You’re so silly, baby. What did you write about your tits being too small and your tummy too fat? I could say the same thing about me being too skinny and not ripped enough. You do realize that we all are beautiful in our own way? And that everybody got a different taste? What if I liked your tits this size? What if I loved your curves exactly like that? Has that ever occurred to you?”

It had not.

“And let’s talk about you being not normal. I understand that the fertility thing is a grave prophecy but that doesn’t make you less normal than anybody else. It doesn’t diminish your worth baby. Nothing could ever do that. Do you get that?”

You grabbed the hem of his shirt tighter and started sobbing again. “Jinnie, what if I can never conceive? What then?” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Then we’ll figure out a way, my love. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

You looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

He chuckled, flashing you his warmest smile. “Yes, I am sure. I love you, y/n. I love you for who you are. I fell for your soul baby, not your body or what you could do for me. To me you are absolutely perfect.” He kissed the tears away, holding you even more closely. “Y/Nnie? Don’t ever think that my love for you is-“

“Conditional?”

#mykoreanlove #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids au #skz x reader #stray kids x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #skz hyunjin #skz hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard hours #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x stay #stray kids angst #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin #stray kids scenarios

[dejwrld]

— takuma ino misses your adorable little face and your even more adorable moans while he's away for a mission.

( cw ) ⸻ female anatomy describe, her/she pronouns, black coded reader, mutual masturbation, orgasm denial, overstimulation, phone sex, feminine pet names, mentions of cum, mentions of spit, spit usage, told in third pov cause it's through ino's eyes, established relationship (reader and ino are dating), ino hive we up and running, reader is a college student, ino is away for a mission, wc: 2.1k, minors dni ! repost from old account!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀dedicated to the hottest ino simp ever @honeybleed

THE MOONLIGHT SHINED THROUGH THE CREAM-COLORED HOTEL CURTAINS. The sound of the hotel room's air conditioner hummed alongside the nude-colored walls as the only form of light that illuminated the room was from Ino's cell phone. His black shaded hair fell into his face while texting on his cellphone. He immediately updated Kiyotaka Ijichi on the mission, admitting that he'll return to Tokyo tomorrow noon. He couldn't wait to return home.

Specifically, he couldn't wait to go home to his girlfriend who loved complaining about him coming to her home bruised and battered after an eventful mission of fighting curses. His brown-colored eyes traveled the miniature alarm clock on the hotel's nightstand before going back to his phone. "She's probably sleeping," He uttered to himself.

But that didn't stop him from sending the notorious text that always leads to something devious.

You Up?

When he heard the familiar sound of his message going through, he waited to see if she would read it. Which she did immediately. He felt his lips curl into a smile seeing the text bubbles pop up indicating that she was typing. Similar to a dog getting a big fat treat, Ino's face lit up seeing her text message. He hated to admit that the young woman made him go weak on the knees on some days. He hated to admit just how love-sick he was when his stomach would form the most hideous knots thinking about her when he was out putting his life on the line. The bone-chilling feeling of possibly not making it back to her always was a thought Ino was forced to push out of his head countless times. Even when he had gotten a small cut or bruise, he still hated the look of worry that decorated her face when she saw him.

His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Her contact photo of her smiling right back at Ino flashed on the screen. He assumed that she must have missed him just as much as he missed her. When he let the pad of his thumb press the green-colored accept button on his phone screen, his face lit up in the darkness seeing that beautiful smile on her face. Even though her lights were dimmed a bit in her room, he still could see that smile that made him fall for her.

"What are you still doing up so late?" Don't you have class in the morning?" Ino jokingly questioned, his eyebrows knitted together in a playful look of confusion.

"My class isn't until noon, so I'll be okay. I just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is okay since he's out slaying curses and whatnot," She sighed.

"Y/N, I'm good. I'll be back in Tokyo before your noon class ends. Unless..." His voice trails off and Y/N finishes his sentence.

"You're assigned another mission, I understand." Y/N sighed again as Ino watched her sink even further into the pink-colored stuffed animal he won her on their second date. "I just miss you so much." Her voice alludes to a cute whine that causes Ino to smile a little.

"I miss you so much too."

"How much? She questioned. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she waited for an answer to her question.

Ino found himself leaning over to turn on the lap that was on the nightstand so she could get a better look at him other than his ominous shadow in the darkness. He watched as her face lit up now being able to look at his face. From the way, his dark-colored hair fell to partially cover the scar that decorated his forehead to the way that you could clearly tell he was exhausted but was fighting his sleep just to see his pretty girl face.

"I don't want to keep you up. You look so tired," Y/N pointed out.

Once the word tired tumbled off her tongue with worry, Ino let out a yawn. His hands went up to rub at his eyes before speaking, "I'm good. I'm not hanging up until you tell me to."

"Good because I have been thinking about you a lot, if you get the drift," Y/N says.

Ino's eyebrows raised in curiosity. He let his tongue glide across his lips before his mind went to catch Y/N's drift. His cheeks instantly stained a crimson color as he gave his girlfriend a foolish grin. A grin she's seen one too many times. A grin that causes her to playfully push him away when his callous curse-fighting hands would grope at her ass when they're out in public. The same grin he gave her before waltzing his way into the mall dressing room with her.

"You have an early morning probably, I don't want to keep you up," Y/N huffed as Ino noticed that she was leaning against the headboard of her bed now.

"I told you, I'm good," Ino uttered as he looked at her. His eyes darted from her face to her hardened nipples that poked out of the thin white-colored tank top she wore back to her face. "What do you have in mind?" He questioned.

"You know what I have in mind Ino." She whines. She slides down her headboard in a dramatic manner before speaking once again, "I was going to send you some pictures, but I'm needy. I miss your touch and your dick."

Ino chuckled at her statement. His fingers comb through his dark-shaded locks before looking at the hotel nightstand clock. He was sure this would help him fall asleep faster, plus he did miss the sound of soft moans in his ear. "Fuck it." He uttered as he sat up in his bed.

He mimicked the way Y/N was, placing his back on the headboard. "Let's do it," He says gaining the cutest giggle from Y/N.

"Okay, but I went to a store with one of my friends and brought something."

Ino's eyebrows raised at her words. Although he knew what his girlfriend was alluding to—he still couldn't wait to see what she would bring to the steamy FaceTime call. During her absence, Ino's tugging down the pajama pants he wore. The alluring thought of having phone sex already caused his dick to twitch in anticipation. As he held his iPhone, his hand traced alongside his toned abs before palming himself through the fabric of his boxers.

"You're ready Ino?" Y/N questioned. "I'm going to call you off my MacBook, 'kay?"

"Yes," Ino could hear the phone hang up before he could see her calling back. He answered the call with quickness and his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store when he saw the view.

The only view of his girlfriend's cute pink-colored panties that covered her pussy he's been balls deep in too many times. If Ino look closer, he could see the faint dampness in between her legs that imprinted her panties. He saw the vibrating wand that was a similar color to her panties and chuckled. "Could you hear me okay?" He asked.

"Mhmm," Y/N answered before she tugged off the tank top she was wearing revealing her bare chest.

At that moment, Ino was kicking the thin sheets that covered his lower half. His body instantly grew hot at the sight of his girlfriend. His cock aching to be touched and he wished it was her touching him. His teeth grazed at his lower lip before he spoke once again, "Go ahead and give me a show pretty girl."

He heard her chuckle. "And how do you want me to give you a show, Ino?" She asked.

His eyes looked at the pastel pink wand in her hand on the phone and she could only playfully roll her eyes. However, the curious glint in Ino's eyes caused her panties to be soaked.

The next minutes consisted of Y/N's placing the wand against her bare folds. Her legs quivered feeling the vibration in between her thighs and Ino felt like he was on a cloud despite being miles away from her. He was so enthusiastic to please himself, but first, he had to make sure Y/N felt the same way. He needed her to feel as hot as he was in the hotel room.

"How you're feeling baby?" He asked as he watched her move the wand in a circular motion.

"Much better if you were here," Y/N says through subtle moans.

Ino could see her hands shaking just a bit due to the intoxicating feeling that was placed on her clit. "Just imagine, I am there." He says.

Y/N has never heard Ino's voice leak with so much sex appeal. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment. She let her body relax in her queen-sized bed and her eyes shifted closer. Her grasp on the wand seem to grow tighter as Ino's voice echoed out of her laptop speakers. If she thought hard enough, she could imagine that it was Ino holding the vibrating toy against her clit.

"Just me in between your thighs eating you out just the way you like it," Ino said. "You always tend to run away from me when I'm down there, but I always pull you right back to my face. Or the fact that you always tug at my hair when you're about to cum, thinkin' I don't want you to cum all over fuckin' face."

"Fuck." Y/N breathed out while she could feel her orgasm coming bit by bit.

Ino would sneer at the sight he was seeing and instantly flipped his camera so that Y/N could see the lower half of his body. His hands now tugging down his boxers freeing himself from the growingly tight space. His cock slapped at his stomach and oozed with precum from the thought of his pretty girlfriend. He brought his hand that wasn't holding his phone up to his mouth. Pooling all the saliva he could and spitting it in his hand. His free hand palmed his cock starting from his pink mushroom-shaped tip to his girthy shaft.

Y/N's mind seemed to be doing mental backflips at the sight of Ino's cock. The woman has seen many men dicks in previous relationships, but nothing could beat Ino's. A very persistent grower when it was time to please her. He kept it trimmed and neat, but not exactly clean-shaven. Gosh, she couldn't forget it seemingly having a curve to the left.

"Fuck—Y/N. I missed you so much," Ino moaned out as he was letting his hand guide up and down his cock. He was trying so hard to attempt to mimic the exact type of grip Y/N would have if she was giving him a handjob.

Y/N gasped out Ino's name repeatedly as if it were a scripture. Her mind felt like a bottle of shaken-up soda. Her body was getting dragged closer and closer to the edge. The two of them have shared countless times like this before due to Ino's sorcerer's work, but tonight was a bit different. The pornographic sound of Ino beating his dick and the sound of Y/N's moans was enough for Ino to gain a noise complaint from whoever occupied the hotel room next to him, but he could care less. He needed to watch his girl cum.

"Fuck." Ino uttered as his hand guided up and down the shaft of his cock. "I'm going to cum, let's cum together baby girl."

Y/N couldn't even focus with the way her toes were curling in anticipation to cum another time. Her moans that called out Ino's name as the pastel pink wand was pressed against her clit, "Okay." She moaned out.

In a matter of seconds, Ino was a grunting mess as he could feel his body heat up. The sheer thought of imagining Y/N's hands around his cock caused the sorcerer to go feral. When he felt the thick ropes of cum splatter out, his head fell back in complete bliss. His breathy grunts bounced off the walls as he glanced down at the mess he made. His face drained of its color and the only noticeable color that stained his face was the shade of red from the desirable pleasure he formally was experiencing.

The couple came down from the small moment of being on cloud nine due to them cumming together and the only thing that was heard between the two were the breathless pants.

"When you come back, just come to my place." Y/N would say.

Ino would get out of bed, instantly going to the bathroom to shower (again). He could hear Y/N shuffling around her room, most likely doing the same thing he was about to do. "What about class?"

"I can always get a doctor's note and I would rather you be the one to make me cum and not a vibrator." these were the last words Ino heard from Y/N before he heard the sound indicating that the FaceTime call ended.

"Gosh, I fuckin' love her," Ino uttered to himself.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #takuma ino x reader #takuma ino smut #anime smut #anime x reader #female reader #x female reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

[writersmess]

Hello, how are you? I hope you're doing okey so I see that you are taking request again I wanted to know if you could do a Derek Hale x reader when they have Eli and he is at the stage where he's learning how to talks and he only knows how to say his last name so when Derek and reader leave Eli on peter's watch and at one moment Eli is missing his parents so he goes to Peter and says his last name and Peter just don't understand why he is saying that and Eli ends up crying so Peter calls Derek because poor uncle Peter don't know what to do, just something funny and chaotic please ( sorry if this long and if you don't understand everything it's because english is not my first language so I might have confused everything ).

MISSING YOU | DEREK HALE

Pairing: Derek Hale x fem!reader

Summary: While under Peter’s care, baby Eli wouldn’t stop crying. Until everyone found out why.

Warning: none

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: hey sweeties! Thanks for the request! I loved it so much! I hope you enjoy it!!! I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language.

Masterlist

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

“did you get this on tape?” you asked excitedly and Derek agreed in a murmur. You looked at him and your eyes automatically filled with tears as you saw him with a few tears streaming down his face. he was completely dazzled.

Hale.

It was baby Eli’s first word.

You were playing with the child when he randomly dropped the word. Derek was filming the moment unpretentiously as he always did to keep all possible memories of his little family, and he got to record this moment. It was magical.

“of all the words, he had to chose Hale” Derek said as he hugged you from the side and looked fondly at the baby carefully positioned on the floor with his toys.

“what can I say? He is just like his mama” you joked, hugging him back while laying your head on his shoulder.

You knew exactly why Eli chose that word.

You were Scott and Stiles’ classmate and when the supernatural world began to take over the town, you found yourself in a pack full of scared and inexperienced teenagers. Scott and Stiles took you in and explained what was going on, after you were caught in the middle of the crossfire between hunters and werewolves. Suddenly this bunch of teenagers were best friends and together they were fighting supernatural and human threats.

And there was Derek Hale.

A sourwolf who after so many losses, had to deal with these teenagers full of doubts and fears.

The moment you laid your eyes on Derek you knew your heart was his. And he knew that too, he wanted to love you. But you were too young, it was totally against his morals. And then you went away to study in another state, all of you did. Derek would never admit it but he missed you, missed your irony, missed your passionate glances, your contagious laugh.

He didn’t expect that after a few years you would come back to the city, but your father was sick, he needed you. And it was supposed to be for a while, until you decided to stay. You got a job, got your own apartment, and settled in.

You never imagined that your story with Derek would unfold, indeed you never thought that he would even look at you with second thoughts. The way you looked at him. But you decided to give each other a chance. And it worked, you were perfect for each other. Until a few months after you started to get involved, you found out that Derek’s one-night stand had resulted in a baby. It happened way before you moved back to the city, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It did.

But you learned to deal with it and you were willing to help in Eli’s upbringing. You loved him as if he were your own.

Since your school days you have never been able to call Derek by his name. He never really understood why, but you were too embarrassed to address him by his first name so you chose to call him by his last one. Hale. And everyone got used to it, at one point it even became cute. And even after you were together, you didn’t lose that habit, what you didn’t expect is that your son would use that as his first word.

“morning sunshine. the party is about to begin” you exclaimed excitedly as soon as Peter opened the door and he let out a grunt. He had just woken up.

“jesus, i don’t remember arranging that so early”

“what better way to start the day if not with your adorable nephew”

You said, passing the baby into Peter’s arms, and you could see how his face lit up with the baby’s presence. A smile immediately broke out on his face.

“this is not the first time, so I don’t need to remind you of the rules, also I am very eager to enjoy the day with my boyfriend, so I’m gonna get going” You let out a mischievous smile and Peter rolled his eyes.

“first of all, gross. Second, the Hale’s men are ready to take over the town” you laughed leaving them alone.

***

“okay pal, it’s just you and me and a whole day ahead of us. You have to help me” Peter talked to the baby as if he was understanding. It was comic.

He was preparing breakfast when Malia and Parish arrived at the house.

“check it out, looks like we have company today”

Malia said, changing her voice tone and moving towards the baby. She absolutely hated pda, but when there’s a baby as cute as Eli in the house, she couldn’t help herself.

“thank God you arrived. He is here for like an hour and has cried at least three times” Peter spoke and the couple could see the desperation in his eyes, making them laugh.

“he’s a Hale, it’s not like he’s easy to deal with” Parish said and both Hale’s looked at him with deadly eyes. He laughed and went into the kitchen, trying to get out of they sight “Sorry”

***

“did he just say Hale?” Parish asked as the three looked stunned at the baby playing on the floor.

“i guess so” Malia replied and they could see how Peter was smiling. “look at this, uncle Peter is getting emotional”

“shut up” Malia and Parish couldn’t hold their laugh.

What they could not imagine, was that from that moment on baby Eli would not stop crying and repeating his last name for the rest of the afternoon.

“I think he’s broken” Malia said as she shook some toys in front of the baby on Parish’s arms, trying to get him to stop crying.

“dont be stupid, Malia” Peter said with his hands on his head, he couldn’t stand to hear the child’s crying anymore “okay I’m gonna call Derek”

“he’s gonna get crazy, I don’t think it’s a good idea” Malia warned.

“well I don’t know what else to do” Peter said desperately as Eli continued to mumble the word Hale non-stop. “then I’ll call y/n I’m sure she won’t want to kill me”

You and Derek were in the middle of a make-out session when the phone started ringing. You declined the first time, but the fourth time it was impossible.

“jesus christ Peter, what happened? Is everything okay?” You answered preoccupied and you could see Derek’s watchful eyes. He was listening to the conversation.

“Ok don’t go crazy about it, the baby is fine, I’m the one who isn’t” This only made you even more worried. Derek was already starting to get out of bed and look for his clothes.

“why? What happened?”

“there’s the thing! I don’t know! Eli started to cry and hasn’t stopped for at least a couple of hours”

“did you try-“

“yes I did” he cut you.

“but the-“ you tried to say and he cut you off again.

“i tried absolutely everything that you can imagine”

You could sense the tiredness in Peter’s voice and the baby crying in the background.

“he’s not in pain. I tried that too”

“okay we’re coming to rescue you” you said as you finished getting dressed and noticed Derek grabbing the car keys.

“thanks” he mumbled and you laughed.

“he’s okay baby, don’t worry” you said comforting Derek already in the car and he sighed.

“yeah I know”

As soon as you opened the door, you could see what a mess the house was. Toys everywhere, Malia and Parish sitting on the couch and Peter pacing up and down with a crying baby on his arms. Peter was defeated. Eli had swollen eyes from crying and you could see that he was desolated.

“Hale” Eli muttered and stretched his arms out the second Derek entered his field of vision.

“oh hi baby boy” Derek said walking towards him.

The moment Derek held him in his arms, the crying ceased. His little head rested against Derek’s big shoulders and he was now letting out little sighs.

Your heart melted watching that scene and the urge to cry was huge.

“really?” Peter said and the three of them watched the scene in disbelief.

“so hale is Derek? He kept saying that all afternoon” Parish commented and you nodded.

“I can imagine why” Malia said sarcastically looking at you and you felt your face turn red.

“Well what can I say if he’s just like his mama” You joked and let out a laugh.

All this time the baby was just missing you guys, especially Derek.

He really was just like you.

#derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #derek hale #derek hale fanfic #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf

[yelenasdiary]

Until Then

Pairing: Florence Pugh X Fem! Reader.

Summary: Attending Toby’s concert in Oxford you also go the chance to meet Florence. 

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: mentions of a hangover. 

Type: Fluff

Author Comments: This is a request from my old blog! 

Excited was an understatement when your boss approved a couple of days off for the concert you had already brought tickets too, enough if he said no, you would’ve called in sick anyways. You’d been a fan of Toby Sebastian’s ever since Florence would post some of his music on her Instagram story. You were also clearly a huge fan of Florence Pugh’s acting. The concert was on a Thursday night, so you’d requested to have Thursday, Friday, and Saturday off from work to really enjoy your time. Wednesday night you packed your things and got ready for the train ride to Oxford early Thursday morning. 

You’d heard around on social media that Toby & Florence’s dad owned a café in Oxford and you wanted to check it out once your train arrived you checked into the hotel that was a few blocks away from the club Toby was playing at then you made your way to Café Coco for some brunch. The café was slightly packed with younger people, some were taking photos of the wall which confused you slightly until you were able to see that Florence had written a message and signed it. “Table for 1?” the waiter greeted you as you took in the beauty of the café. “Yes please” you smiled as he then directed you to a table outside in the sun, he gave you a menu and told you the specials for the day before telling you he’d be back in a moment to take your order.

You ordered a Full English Breakfast and a hot chocolate. “We’ll get that out to you as shortly” the waiter smile as he took the menu back and wrote down your order on the little notepad. “Thank you, are you guys usually this busy?” you asked. “Yes and no, the owner’s son is playing the club down the road so that would explain the younger people taking photos of the wall inside” he gave a soft laugh before walking away. You flicked through social media as you waited for your order, you saw that Raffie had posted on her story that she as going to the show tonight, you weren’t surprised as it is her older brother. Toby had also posted about getting ready for tonight’s show which made you even more excited. Your attention was taken away from your phone when you heard a group of young adult’s squeal with excitement.

Looking up from your phone you saw a familiar face throw a soft smile at you when your eyes met. Your heart sunk as your mind froze. Florence was here, surrounded but a small group of young adults asking for photos and autographs. You gave her a soft smile back before her attention turned to the calling of her name. Were you dreaming or was this real? You thought to yourself before the waiter placed the plate of food in front of you. “Starstruck are we?” the waiter smiled as he noticed you had looked like you’d just seen a ghost. You blushed with a smile before looking up to the waiter, “I- n-…yeah” you finally admitted. The younger male chuckled, “you should go say hi, Flo super cool, we love her!” he placed your cutlery on the table and walked away.  As much as you’d love to get up and say hi, you didn’t want to bother her and seeing as she already had a fair few people wanting her attention you decided to take that little smile, she sent your way as a blessing and dug into your brunch. 

You’d been enjoying your night as Toby performed all your favourite songs, you sang along and sueded to the music, you were a in the 3rd row from the stage, you made sure to take plenty of photos and videos for your memories. As Toby was performing you couldn’t help but people in front of you whispering and pointing to your right. You turned your attention as you saw Florence feeling the vibes of the show, singing and dancing. Her attention was purely watching her brother doing what he loves, she had you in an awe moment. 

Before the show ended, Toby had Raffie and Florence join him on stage to sing with him. The crowd loved it as much as you did. Midnight was such a vibey song for you, a song you’d listened too most mornings while getting ready for the day or whenever you were in the bath having a relaxing evening. You made sure to film that whole performance so you could always go back and watch one of your newly found memories. 

After the show you decided to end to the afterparty, now with the hopes to say hi to Florence. Your nerves were strong as you saw her standing around some fans, taking photos, laughing with them, and hugging them. You knew if you had come with friends, you wouldn’t be this nervous just to say hello but being by yourself the room looked way to packed for you to process. You ordered a drink from the bar and found a spot to sit while you talked yourself up to go meet Flo. 

“Hey there!” you heard a thick British accent break you from your thoughts. Looking up to see Florence smiling at you, her eyes sparkled with the dimed lights, “Hello” you smiled back at her. “I just wanted to pop over and say how much I love your outfit!” she complemented. “Really? Wow, thank you!” you replied completed stoked that she even noticed you with people surrounding her. “Did you enjoy the show?” she asked, slowly taking the seat across from you. “I did, thank you! Toby is amazing and so were you and Raffie! I’m so glad I came! Although I am sad it’s over” you chuckled a little at the end. “Over? It’s just starting!” Florence winked jokingly, “were you at coco this afternoon?” she questioned. “Coco?”, “the Café” she replied as you came to the realisation of what she was talking about. “Oh yes! I was” you laughed slightly, “it’s a lovely café” you added before smiling at her again. “It really is! I take it your from out of town?”, “I am! I’m just here until Saturday” you replied while looking at the necklace she had on. “Well I hope you enjoy your stay” Florence smiled back at you while she noticed your attention on her necklace. 

“Do you like dragonflies?” she added. Quickly turning your attention back to her green eyes you nodded lightly, “I do, I think they’re really pretty and unique”. “Here, you should have this then” she spoke as she reached behind her neck and undid the latch. “Oh no, I couldn’t” you insisted, “how about you keep it and when we meet again you can return it?” she looked at you with a gently but loving smile, placing the golden necklace in your hand. “No, really, I can’t do that, I mean…. this is such a once in a lifetime moment for me” you replied, handing the necklace back. “Please, take it. Maybe in 10 years we meet again, until then, it is yours” she spoke, refusing to take the necklace. “What’s your name?” she added, “Y/n” you replied. “Well, Y/n, until we meet again, please keep the necklace” she smiled before getting up from her seat. “Thank you, you really didn’t have to do that” you smiled at her. “Have a wonderful night” she spoke as she walked past, tapping you on the shoulder. 

Later that night as you laid in bed, dangling the necklace in front of you, you couldn’t believe the events that took place tonight. You met Toby, Raffie and Florence! You questioned why Florence was so insisted that you keep her necklace, maybe she liked the fact you didn’t crowd her or maybe she saw how much you liked the little pendant. Did she mean what she said? Could you meet her again in 10 years or so? Was fate that good, that strong? The thoughts kept you awake for hours, slowly making you more and more tired, soon drifting off to sleep wondering why Florence spent the time she did with you. 

The following morning you decided to go back to Café Coco for breakfast, this time you ordered a breakfast tea and an omelette before making your way around the city doing some sight-seeing and shopping. “Back again I see” the waiter from yesterday smiled to you as he placed your tea in front of you, “what can I say? That food was banging!” you replied with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that” he chuckled, “your food shouldn’t be too much longer, yell out if there is anything else you need” he added before placing a bottle of water on the table. “Thank you” you said as he walked away. The café wasn’t as crowd as yesterday, in fact it was sort of peaceful how quiet it was currently. You sipped on your tea as you flicked through the news articles on your phone as the city slowly became louder and louder with the chitter chatter of by passers. 

“Please tell me that’s tea and not coffee” you heard a voice over you, you looked up and were to surprise to see Florence standing there with a smile. “It’s only right to have a tea this early in the morning” you smiled back to her. “I totally agree, tea all day every day” she joked, causing you both to chuckle. “Is this seat taken?” she asked “please, be my guest” you replied with your hand out, gesturing her to sit. “How was the rest of your night last night? No hangover?” Florence asked as she sat down across from you once again. You tried to hide the blush that washed over you, here she was, sitting across from you, the green in her eyes shined through as the sun hit her face just at the perfect angle. Proud of yourself for not completely freaking out over the fact Florence was willingly wanting to have more than a 20 second encounter with you. “I had a great night, I didn’t drink that much but I think if I were here with friends than the story would be completely different” you replied, “Oh you’re here alone?” she questioned. “Yeah, none of my friends were able to score the day off work to come to the show last night so I came alone, although it’s not that bad, I can relax and do some sight-seeing without feeling like I’m boring them” you let out a soft chuckle. 

“Oh no no no! I can’t let you see the city of Oxford by yourself!” Florence replied, “let me take you around, it’ll be fun, I can show you the real oxford and not whatever google says you need to see! What do you think?” she asked excitingly. “I don’t see why you!” you replied giving her another smile. “Perfect, we’ll have breakfast and head off”. 

You almost forgot about the deal from last night, “oh before I forget! Here you go” you spoke as you pulled out the golden dragonfly necklace from your purse and handed it to Florence. “You said, until we meet again that I could keep this. Well, here we are, meeting again” you added as she slightly tilted her head and smiled. “Keep it, I think it might be the perfect story for the future” she spoke, leaving you confused on her comment. “Are you sure?” you asked, “of course, and if you don’t enjoy your time today then I’ll allow you to give it back” she explained just as the waiter came back with your food. 

*Huge time jump*

“Darling! Dinner is ready” your wife called from the kitchen, “I’ll be there in a moment” you spoke back as you freshened up in the bathroom. You stood looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment as you fiddled with the necklace you wore daily, reminiscing on the day Florence made the comment of the necklace being the perfect story for the future. “Babe we’re waiting!” you heard your wife call once more. You smiled before you left the bathroom and made your way downstairs to the dining room. “Mumma look! We made spaghetti!” your daughter ran to you with her arms out. “It smells amazing” you smiled as you picked her up and placed her on your hip, “is everything okay my love?” Florence turned to you as she placed a bowl of salad on the table, “everything is perfect” you smiled before giving her a soft kiss, “ewwww” your daughter cringed at the scene causing you and Florence you chuckle. 

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#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the frightened ones

— summary: drowning in the middle of the sea means being blind and not knowing who is on your side and who wishes to pull you in deeper

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: nightmares, mentions of hallucinating, aggressive acts, kidnapping

— PART 18 / previous post / masterpost

“Are you scared?”

You look up in the complete void of the room, darkness shadowing all that you are as you sit in that lone void, knees held up to your chest, arms wrapped around them with your head lowered until you hear the voice.

A familiar, gentle voice.

“....Mister Butler?” You call hesitantly, confused and almost frightened at how young he looks, as if he had never aged. He was only seventeen when he met you after all, twenty-two when he died.

Those widened pupils which have been engraved in your memories will be something you will never forget for the rest of your life. The day he died, the day your whole world fell apart, when everything went wrong from that point on.

Father blamed you for the longest time for his death, Mister Butler himself visiting you in dreams after dreams, for a moment relieving you only for him to shame you and blame you for killing him.

You remember those dreams in faint glimpses, fragments, shattered glass. And whenever Mister Butler would appear before you, the whole room would remain just as cold as your life turned when he died and your world turned upside down. 

Yet today it feels a little warmer.

Why does it feel warm?

And why is he here? He hasn’t visited your dreams in ages. You thought he’d abandoned you.

“Hello there, little miss.” He smiles sweetly in the way your memories keep on him, the real him, not your make-believe nightmares. That boyish, kind smile always makes your insides warm in the way only he’s able to do in the darkness of your life. He takes a seat before you, glowing brightly in the darkness of the abyss that keeps your heart cold and hard.

You feel his warmth the way you recall your forgotten memories and your heart aches at the sight of him, remembering, remembering.

You hate remembering. Hate being reminded of what happened that night.

Car crash, tires screeching loudly against the pavement, an explosion, a gunshot, a scream, a cry.

Mister Butler. Dead.

“I…” You stutter, the sound in your throat trying to give away, a lump restricting it from within, and you feel like you want to throw up. You want to sit up, to reach out to him, touch him, feel him, but your body won’t move.

It only lurches forward as you hold a hand over your mouth, the sickness in the pits of your stomach wishing to relieve the empty contents in there.

You want to speak but no word would come on, no sound, so you’re left with only trembling in plain sight, unable to ask for help, to ask him why he’s here, if he wants to scorn you again, if this time, he’s going to yell at you for hurting his little brother, for lying to his little brother.

You’re afraid.

Afraid.

“Little miss.” But his voice remains gentle when he calls for you and you almost cry at how soft he sounds. But even then, even with Mister Butler right here before you, nothing can help you shed tears anymore. They’ve all gone, wasted on a pitiful father who didn’t deserve any of it.

You feel a hand on your back, his warmth surging forth into your body as if he was a human furnace himself and you look up, slowly, frightened that what you’re seeing is only a figment of your imagination.

“I….I’m scared,” you finally manage to admit to his initial question, wanting to avoid his eyes but knowing because he only lives on in your memories and dreams, this is the only way you can ever see him so you keep your eyes on him, wanting to recall every detail, every little thing you can remember. You lean back into a seated position with some struggle, trying to focus.

“I know you are,” Mister Butler nods with a troubled smile. “You’ve blocked your heart from the world, haven’t you, little one?” He asks, taking a look at the darkness of this space.

“You told me not everyone deserves the heart that I’ve been given. You told me to stop letting them all stomp on me.”

“Not everyone,” he emphasizes, an eyebrow arched your way with a pointed stare. “That doesn’t mean shut yourself away from everyone.”

You bite your lower lip. “Same difference.”

“It isn’t and you know that,” he chides and you shrink into your seat, feeling a bit ashamed because he always sees through you no matter how hard you try. Will he scold you again? Speak the words he knows will hurt you the most? “But you’re scared.” Yet he doesn’t this time. This time Mister Butler is real.

Real.

Not those fake nightmares your mind decided to make up because you were made to believe his death was your fault.

This time Mister Butler is real and he understands. He always does. “And the people that you’ve trusted have all abandoned you. Your own father has made you into the killer that you are today.”

“Do you see me as a monster?” You look at him with a bit of desperation, frightened for his answer.

Mister Butler takes a moment to simply watch you, falling silent, as if letting you take this time to reflect back on what you had just said, and when you keep your resolution, he speaks again. “To me, you are nothing else but my young little miss,” he says. “Why would I ever see you as anything else?”

“Because I can’t control it,” you tell him, a bit frustrated, a bit desperate. You show him your hands. They tremble uncontrollably when you lay your palms to face you from your lap. “I want to hurt everyone that has hurt me and…and what if one day I come to hurt myself?”

“You can control it.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can. And you will.”

“You don’t understand.”

“My young, little miss.” His voice remains calm, steady, and light, unlike you who seems to only fall out of control, desperate and in a panic, scared and frightened and mad, looking up at him and pleading at him to save you. To ground you. To control you. “How much longer will you keep hurting yourself? How much longer will you refuse to trust the people around you?”

“I can’t.” You say again, more stressed. “They’ll leave one day, just like everyone else has. They’ll leave.” Your voice shakes.

“Are you so afraid despite how many sacrifices they’ve made for you?”

“It’s because of that,” you say, hands running through your hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. You can feel it, you’re becoming unstable once again. Your heart is racing. Racing hard. “Because they’ll make the sacrifices, I can’t…I can’t-”

“Show them your heart?”

“Because they’ll leave.” You nod. “Everyone leaves. And if they leave…who will I have?”

“You’re drowning yourself, young miss.”

“What else can I do?” You want to scream and shout and let everything out but father still sits in the back of your mind, taunting you, threatening you. Shouting will do nothing. No one will come. No one will save you no matter how loud you are. So you have to remain quiet. You have to because shouting will make no difference.

You stand from your seat abruptly, hands running through your hair as you pace the room, unsettled by everything. You’re a mess right now, unable to stay calm, while Mister Butler remains seated from where he is, simply watching everything unfold before his eyes.

“I…” There’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. If you run, you’ll only end up right back where you were. Running means nothing in the world of the abyss. You hold your hands together, nails clawing at your skin. “Why won’t you shout at me?” You turn back to your precious butler, frustrated that despite how familiar he feels right now, it isn’t helping you in the slightest. Perhaps the nightmare versions of him was better, perhaps hearing him shout at you and blame you for everything is better. “Why won’t…why won’t you blame me? Why’re you yourself right now?”

“Do you want me to shout at you?” He asks and you fall to your knees before him.

“Please,” you beg, palms pressing against one another but when it feels like that isn’t enough, you let them press against the cold floor, bowing forward, forehead meeting the floor. “Please blame me, please scorn me, please, just give me anything, anything. Just don’t be kind.”

But Mister Butler only watches you in silence, his gaze afflicted with pain as he stares at the little girl whom he was entrusted to ending up the way that she is right now.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe. “If it wasn’t for me…you…you could have lived. Why did you stay for someone like me, Mister Butler? Why? You could have gone home, could have returned to the little brother that was awaiting your return and had been waiting for your return for the longest time. But I shattered that hope for him. I broke him, Mister Butler, all because I was selfish and vengeful and only thought about my needs and my wants and didn’t care for anything else.”

“Sit up.”

“No.” You shake your head vehemently. “It was my fault. Everything’s my fault. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing’s your fault.”

“Everything’s my fault.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for. Young miss look at me.” You look up, just slightly, with creasing brows and quivering lips. “The decisions you make, the life you are living, the path you have chosen, I will never blame you for anything. You think I care whether you remained kind for the rest of your life? You think it matters to me whether you can still give your heart out and smile for people just as you’ve done all those years ago?”

“I’m weak.”

“And I don’t care,” he stresses with a desperate expression trying to make you believe in him. “All those people that say you’re weak because you can’t remain kind after what you’ve gone through, to the ones who tell you to keep your heart warm, that being kind is powerful, that you’re not strong because you want vengeance, well fuck them. No one in this world knows what you’ve gone through and they have no right to tell you what to do with your life. You’re here because you’re here and no matter how weak you may think you are for making the decisions that you’ve made, no matter how weak they may think you are, to me you are the strongest person I have ever seen, young miss. You’re living. And I will never blame you for living.”

“I don’t feel like I’m living.” You sit up, eyes shaking as you can still feel just how surreal everything feels; your trembling body, drying lips, heartbeat drumming hard against your chest, that screech in the back of your ears. “But I…” You look up at him again, as if praying, begging to the Gods from above, “I want to live.”

Mister Butler’s eyes soften upon those words, his shoulders dropping slightly as if a weight has fallen from them and he nods, understanding.

“I know.” 

He gets on his knees and leans in, arms wrapping around you and when you expect to be reminded of those arms that held you, comforted you night after night, days after days, you feel nothing.

You don’t feel his embrace, his familiar warmth, his strong, strong arms that always seem to protect you from all harm. You feel none of that and you look up, brows knitted, eyes burning red.

“Why….why can’t I feel you?”

There’s a hand on your shoulder but all you see is the hand, you don’t feel a thing. He takes a small glance its way before sending you a troubled smile, transient and painful. “Because I only live on,” he takes his other hand and presses a finger at your forehead, “in here.”

“You….” Your face crumbles as if the world has just fallen down and the coldness returns like a blizzard in the middle of winter, sudden and harsh. “You’re leaving too…aren’t you?” You sit up from your position, knees meeting the floor as your hands reach out, trying to touch him but only meeting the air in between where his figure should have been.

He’s a ghost.

Just a spirit.

“Please,” you beg. “Please don’t leave me either. Don’t leave me, Mister Butler. If you leave, I….I can’t live on. I can’t do this without you. Please…please don’t leave me.”

Your fist meets the floor, punching and punching out of frustration and desperation, wanting to touch him and hold him and embrace him again. Just like how it was in your memories, just like how he lived on all those years ago.

“Please….”

“You don’t remember, young miss?” He holds a hand out, holding your face and brushing away where invisible tears should have been. 

“I’m already gone,” he whispers, and you awake from your dream.

Panting out of breath.

Heartbeat racing.

Aching.

Hands trembling.

You throw the blanket off you, stumble on your weakened legs but force it up and race to throw the doors open, allowing light to shine through in the darkness of your room. And then you run some more, eyes focused on one thing and one thing only.

You look around as if in a trance, in a hurry, vision coming in and out, dimmed, legs failing you ever so often when your knees wish to buckle underneath you, stumbling, having to reach out for the wall, a nearby stand for those fancy vases meant to keep the flowers alive. You accidentally knock one off when your legs try to give up but you don’t care.

There is one man you’re looking for. One lone man.

“Boss-?”

“Give him back to me.” And when you find him, you’re quick to lung at him. The bandages around your right hand wraps all around from the night at Bangtan’s manor but you ignore the pain as you clutch onto Mingyu’s shirt, eyes frantic and heart racing. “Give him back to me. Give him back! Give him back right now! I didn't kill him. It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it. So please, please give him back. I didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was good, I listened to you and I obeyed your every word but why did you take away the only person that ever loved me? Why, why?! He didn’t do anything wrong.”

The rest of the Reapers that heard your call watch on as you cling onto Mingyu, shouting at him in a crazed manner as if hallucinating and in a dream-like trance.

“Why didn’t you kill me instead? Why did you blame me? Why did you say that I was the one who killed him? I didn’t pull the trigger, I didn’t cause a little boy to lose his precious older brother and I certainly didn’t kill the very person I loved like he was my own brother. Why? Why did you take him away from me? Give him back! Give him back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!!”

You snatch your hands from his blazer to wrap them around his neck, throwing him down onto the floor with legs on either side of him.

Mingyu simply lays there as your hands tighten, eyes staring down at him with nothing but pure rage and fear combined into one, the kind of sight that’s rarely seen so clearly upon your face because you’re always so good at hiding your emotions from everyone. But in this hallucinating state, in your unconscious awareness, you glare down at him with disdain, with the purest form of hate, hands trembling despite having full control and power over him as you tighten your hands, wanting nothing but his death to arrive.

Mingyu’s sight blurs, his breathing constricting, but he does nothing despite it all and it’s the rest of the Reapers that have to shout at you and rip you off him.

“Boss!”

“Boss, wake up!”

“That’s Mingyu you’re hurting!”

“Die! Just die already! Why aren’t you dead? I shot you straight in the head and watched until you no longer breathed so why? Why are you still here?” Yet you’re still trashing about, having to be forcefully removed and dragged onto the floor by three of the Reapers, two grabbing each of your arms, the last behind you and pulling you back by the torso.

Yet despite being a few feet away and the others have turned to Mingyu, helping him back up while he coughs from the chokehold you had him in, you’re still not seeing straight.

“I didn’t kill him, I didn’t kill him so please…please stop blaming me. It wasn’t me. I promise it wasn’t me.” You look up with desperation this time. More hurt, more pain than anger and rage fueling your thoughts. Your hands come to your head after pushing the Reapers away, tugging at the scalp of your hair, pulling on them like some crazed maniac trying to keep everything in their control and not being able to.

“It wasn’t me, I didn’t do it.” You tremble, knees coming up to your chest, rocking your body back and forth. “It was you, you had the gun, you…..” Your brows knit, trying to think but thinking doesn’t help and you’re only left with more questions. “The gunshot…was you. Mister Butler didn’t….he…”

White eyes, dark pupils, staring straight ahead as if possessed by some sort of spirit.

But he wasn’t possessed. He wasn’t cursed. 

He was dead.

Father killed him and father hovered over you, telling you that it was because of you that he killed him. It was because of you. Because Mister Butler was kind to you. Because Mister Butler loved you. He died because he loved you.

You look up again, fearful as you stare up at Mingyu, hair all a mess and there’s something in your eyes that he notices, something different.

You narrow your gaze, slightly, as if thinking, as if lost in thoughts, and when you turn to the other eyes leveled your way, you scurry a few inches back, hands still on your head as if frightened all of a sudden, as if somehow realizing Mingyu isn’t your father and this manor isn’t full of his people.

These are your Reapers. It’s Mingyu.

“......If you love me……you’ll end up just like him. Just like them.” 

Bangtan.

Whether those vows of love were true or not, they all left in the end.

“You’ll all leave…in the end. You’ll leave….eventually.” You try to search through your memories for something. Anything. “So don’t make any promises. Don’t….don’t love me. You cannot. If you do…you’ll leave. So don’t do anything of those sorts. Don’t…don’t cling to me. Your vows of loyalty, your promises, they’re nothing but lies…nothing but, illusions. Fantasies. Everything that we’re doing now..this? This is nothing but a shitshow. We’re in a circus. You’re the clowns and I’m the ringmaster and in the end…..in the end……the clowns will find a new circus and the ringmaster will be left all alone. Either that or the ringmaster will be the one to abandon the clowns first. So don’t cling to me. Don’t love me. If you do, I’ll kill you myself.”

You turn from them, eyes falling drowsy, headache pushing you to just simply turn for the floor and lay your head there, not wanting to move another inch.

Yeonjun, who’s the closest to your side, crouches down and lends you his lap, and in your unconscious state, you don’t fight him off and just simply give into falling back asleep once again like a lost little puppy crawling towards the hand that feeds him, while the room remains silent for the longest time, just watching you from where they first stood, not moving an inch.

No one knows what to say or do.

It’s Dasom who makes the first move. She kneels beside the second in command, her hand tracing the red ring that has formed around his neck with knitted brows. “Are you alright?”

He turns to her, sees the way she bites against her lower lip. It quivers, her eyes watery but holding back, and when he looks up at the rest of the Reapers, they look just as concerned, just as hurt, even Yuna who no longer has eyes has her back turned, a sniff leaving her.

“How odd,” Mingyu utters softly under his breath but the Reapers hear it all. He looks your way and they watch his move, the way he reaches out to you who’s held in Yeonjun’s arms, sleeping, and brushes a thumb under your eye. “Even in that state…she doesn’t know how to shed a tear.”

He hates being unable to come in full control, hates it when he can’t be the one you can rely on but today of all the days he’s spent with you, he hates today most of all.

Because today, you saw him as the very man who has hurt you more than anyone has. You saw him as your father.

.

.

.

“Are you afraid?”

Dasom knows it, Mingyu knows it, everyone knows it.

That of course he’s afraid, that what had happened this morning frightened him more than anything because out of all the things you’ve thrown at him, you’ve never looked at him with pure rage and anger and most of all, fear.

But you did.

You saw him as your father, as the very man who had hurt you from the very moment you were born into this world, as your abuser, and despite it being for only a moment, Mingyu cannot forget that look in your eyes watching him with so much disgust he loathes every part of him now.

Dasom wants to tell him that it isn’t his fault, that nothing he did triggered you into seeing him as your father, that it was probably just a nightmare you received because there will be times when you’ll “awaken” and act on those nightmares, frightened and not in the right conscious awareness.

She wants to tell him, but watching him from where he sits, she can do nothing but watch on, waiting for his silence to end, to answer her question, and return to the formidable man that he always was.

But perhaps there are days even Mingyu has when he has to give in to his worries and fears, though he never cares to share them and probably always keeps those things to himself. He’s the foundation after all, not just for you but for the Reapers as well, and Dasom guesses perhaps she’s become much too reliant on him just as everyone here has.

Everyone has their moments, especially you, but what about Mingyu who always seems to be level-headed, cool, and calm about everything? As if he has everything under control and nothing can shake him. What shakes him?

The answer is you.

You shake him.

“What if she swims too far down and loses sight of where the surface is?” He asks quietly with his back still turned to her, eyes blankly staring out the window, lost in thoughts. 

He already placed some salve on his neck to soothe the pain and wear down the redness from where you choked him, hiding the white bandage under a turtle neck so that when you do come around once more and is actually consciously aware of your surrounding, you won’t have to question why he had hurt himself.

Dasom knows he’d rather not tell you it was you who had hurt him.

Because despite the fact that their boss tends to feign her arrogance, she cares. She cares in the smallest ways and him telling you that you were the one to have hurt any of your Reapers would mean scarring you.

Hence he ordered them to not utter a word about what happened this morning to you.

They promised to keep their mouths shut because besides you, Mingyu’s words are law.

After all, they’d rather not put more burdens onto your shoulders.

You’ve never hurt any of the Reapers in all the years they came and vowed their loyalties unto you. You’ve never laid a finger on any of them. You aren’t like your father in the slightest. You’re powerful but not abusive, you would never raise a hand at them or tell another soul to do so.

In following your father’s steps, you learned what to do and what not to do, following your own morals while learning to grow strong.

The only person you’ve hurt has been Yuna and Yuna alone.

She mentioned it before, once, and never again perhaps because it’s a memory she’d rather not revisit, but in you taking her eyes away, there were nights when Yuna would pretend she was sleeping and hear your soft little sorrys leaving your lips.

You told her you were sorry for being weak, for having to do such a thing just for your father. You told her you hated your father, that you’d rather he died right then at that moment so that no one else had to suffer for your case.

You told her you’d never allow anyone close to your side, that they had to understand what their positions meant before father could ever fall suspicious ever again. You told her she’d be the first and last one.

Yuna, the very first Reaper, sacrificed everything just to be by your side, proving her loyalty and allowing the rest of the Reapers now to be who they are today; giving their vows unto you and remaining by your side for as long as time can give them.

“If boss loses sight of the surface…won’t you be the one to guide her back?” Dasom asks, her voice gentler than normal, her demeanor calm and steady. “Even in the darkest part of the ocean, you always manage to bring boss back.”

“And if she mistakes me for one of the creatures trying to drag her deeper down?”

“Then you continue pulling her up.” She steps in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder in order to make sure he’s looking right at her when she speaks. “Nothing has ever stopped you from protecting boss, you can’t start getting weak now, Mingyu. You know more than anyone showing an ounce of weakness means allowing boss to drown even further. We’re the only beacons in her life, Mingyu, and she relies on us whether she wants to admit it or not. She relies on us and she relies on you. You’re her foundation, her control. When she gets lost in that storm and out in the sea, you’re the only one who can ground her down and keep her steady again. You’re the only one, Mingyu, so don’t lose it now. Don’t lose control.”

Dasom takes a small moment to look down and take his hand. It’s the first time she’s ever seen them look so small, trembling slightly with fear and uncertainty. Mingyu’s always such a bright man who knows just what to do in every situation without hesitating when it comes to the gang and you. He does everything without faltering and now here he is, falling back for a moment, a split moment, and it’s all because of you.

He’s afraid.

Afraid of failing you, of losing you. No one worries about you in the way Mingyu does and because of that, here he is, shoulders weighed by the heavy burden.

“You’re not just her control though,” Dasom speaks again, her voice gentler, quieter, “you’re ours too.” She looks back at him, steady in her gaze. “We cannot afford you losing your cool, not even for a second. But if the time ever passes for you to shake, come to me and rely on me. Let me be your control.” She takes his hand to press against the beat of her heart, causing Mingyu’s brows to furrow slightly with surprise and conflict. Yet Dasom remains resolute.

“Allow me to be your control, Mingyu, so that boss can continue breathing.”

There was a time he once told her in your moment of weakness, when you were passed onto Yeonjun to be taken care of, that as long as he lived, he lived as your foundation. So if there ever comes a moment when he falters and trembles before your eyes, he risks taking your oxygen away and breaking you further.

Mingyu, more than anyone, is afraid of ever showing weakness before you because he’s the only one you can rely on. The presence of him alone, the steady calm air he exceeds all around, can calm you down and allow your heart rate to slow down and breathe again. When the world seems to shake, when it chokes you, constricting you of air, Mingyu’s the only one who can return the oxygen back into your lungs.

“What did you do?” Yuna’s voice echoes in the back of his memories. A younger Yuna, a Yuna he hadn’t known too well yet in that moment. A Yuna who looked up at him with accusation as she stood guarding you against him.

“I…I-I didn’t-” The younger him then was confused, frightened, as the younger girl shouted at him.

“You obviously did something if milady is—” She paused mid-sentence, frozen, sudden, before turning to you who sat on the floor, hands in her hair, trembling like a leaf.

“You cannot, Mingyu, you cannot show her your weakness, no matter what. Otherwise you’ll trigger her and that is the last thing we want.”

There was a mistake he once did, a mistake that had almost cost your stability. He was young and naive then, thought he knew everything, thought that he was good enough to be by your side. It was Yuna who had to teach him everything, who taught him how to handle you, how to behave around you, everything.

Everything until he learned to take it a step further and help you in ways the little Yuna was unable to. Only then, only when he grew stronger and more stable than Yuna could ever be, did you allow him to be your right hand man, the only man allowed to be near you when your world seems to be falling apart.

So trembling in even the slightest amount in front of you is out of the question. Mingyu doesn’t ever want to risk the chances of you thinking there’s no one else you can rely on. He can’t be weak. Not in front of you. Not ever.

And Dasom understands that.

She understands.

So he takes a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath in, feeling the beat of her steady heart calm his nerves to remind him of who he is and what he is capable of.

He is Mingyu, your right hand man, your control, your breath of air, your foundation.

When he opens his eyes again, they no longer falter with hesitation as he gives her a nod, allowing her the task of being his control when he needs it.

.

.

.

Actions can be harder to execute despite the constant reminder.

He told the Reapers to all act normal, that they must never mention what happened the day you woke up more hysterical than any other times you’ve been, but still a part of him fears you still have that part of you still in there somewhere, that somehow, someway, you’ll still mistake him of your father.

In all the years he’s spent secretly loyal only to you, Mingyu has always wanted you to be more expressive and more honest with your feelings. In all the years you’ve lived under your father, you’ve never had the courage to act any other way than living in a void of emotions, unable to feel anything.

Not anger, not sadness, not anything.

Or at least, you were always the best at hiding them and suppressing them.

But ever since his death, it’s almost as if your body and mind know of it and has allowed you to begin acting up, to show your emotions a little more, to be more aggressive, and feel less in control of yourself. You dream more, you wake up more often than usual in the middle of the night in a daze, sleepwalking, sleep talking, and awaken with no memories of what you had done during those moments. 

You’ve come to rely on him even more, reaching out for him, getting more anxiety and panic attacks, falling out of control, and having him to reel you back in.

And even though he knows you’re smart enough to understand that he would never do anything to hurt you, that small little moment of you frightful of him will forever be engraved in his mind, whether you know of it or not.

But Mingyu tries his best to remain calm and collected, not wanting to alert you of anything wrong. He doesn’t want your mind drifting off to something else when you’ve already got a handful of problems weighing you down.

Today you sit on a chair that faces sideways from the window, arm resting against the armrest as you look down at your hand, the one wrapped in white bandages from your last visit at the Bangtan manor.

He hopes you don’t notice it got a bit worse after you ignored the healing in order to go after him the day before, but knowing you, you’re smart enough to notice even the slightest of change.

Still, you don’t speak on it.

“Mingyu.” You say and he almost breathes a sigh of relief at the call of his name. “I…” You speak slowly, still in a space where you aren’t fully conscious but you’re getting there, trying to return to reality, trying to reel back in. “I want to visit the kids,” you look up at him, lids heavy but trying, “The Academy.”

He gives you a firm nod, obedient. “I understand.”

And so Mingyu walks off to ready all the things necessary for your departure while you remain in the seat beside the window, staring out with a blank gaze, head lost in the clouds.

You dress warmly in white and a soft style, scarf hiding the bandages around your neck, hands hidden under your long sleeves being as the gloves causes a bit of pain when placed on top of your injured knuckles.

When you step out of the car to find the building you built about two years ago, some bits of memories flash back into your mind.

The children, Ying’s victims, all now reside here after finally having enough power and influence to be able to rescue them. You’re sure all the things they’ve been through probably still cause them nightmares but you hope that in a way, you building them this safe place rather than abandoning them in orphanages has been able to help if even a little.

Your sudden visit, even while Mingyu had called in advance, causes a ruckus.

The kids are all excited from the very moment you step onto The Academy grounds, eyes watching you with awe and fascination from the windows, and when the doors open for you, the headmaster and two other faculty greet you with formal bows leveled respectfully your way.

You shake off the formality and look at Mingyu's way to do the speaking for you.

“Be at ease,” he commands. “Boss is only here to see how things are going. Resume your schedules as they were.”

“We’ll have someone escort you to navigate you through the floors.”

“No need. We’ll just have a look around.”

“Milady!”

“It’s Lady Y/N!

“Children—”

You put a hand up at the headmaster’s scolding and she’s quick to back down. Then with another respectful bow made your way, the three of them walk off to their previous posts, as per Mingyu’s orders, while you turn to the kids who once looked hesitant upon almost getting scolded.

“Look at that,” you stare at the familiar faces, “not so skinny anymore, are you?” Their faces are quick to light up at your familiar approach. “Have you been eating well?”

“Yes, my lady!”

“Look, I’m growing muscles!”

“The adults here are kind, my lady.”

“But don’t worry, we won’t naively trust just anyone here.”

You raise a brow. “Will you?”

“Everything Lady Y/N says is law so of course we’ll abide by anything you say.”

“And what did I say about trusting me so easily?”

They quickly frown with protest.

“But you saved us.”

“And built an academy just for us.”

“And we’re fed well and trained well.”

“And get to sleep in a comfy bed when night falls.”

“How can we not trust you?”

You take a glance at Mingyu’s way when they come at you with all the good deeds you’ve given them, sighing when he gives you a simple shrug. Well, at the end of the day, whether you’d like them to listen to you, kids will be kids and look towards the ones who treat them with the most kindness.

Though their loyalty is the most reliable.

“You look a bit tired, my lady.” One of them notes with a more apprehensive approach, her lips pressed into a small pout, brows creased slightly. Lily stares at you with concern. “You look like how we looked when we were still with Ying.”

“Are you eating well?”

“If you’re hungry, I saved a snack from breakfast this morning. It’s really good, my lady.” Sunoo offers you a sweet bread cake wrapped in a clear plastic wrapper and you simply stand there for a moment, staring at it without a word.

Cakes, desserts, snacks. Things you never got the chance of touching ever since the death of Mister Butler. He used to steal these little things for you. You remember whenever night came, when the whole manor fell asleep with only a few left awake, he would sneak into your room or you would sneak into his and he’d allow you to eat then, away from prying eyes, away from everyone else.

You craved sweets after his death, missed those little moments when he used to make you the happiest little girl in the world. You missed it all.

But you remember clearly when food became something you no longer craved, when it became the very thing you grew to fear and you would only eat the food you knew you could trust in tiny portions, just enough to let you get by.

And now you can’t even eat anything that hasn’t been made physically by the hands of your Reapers. Only the Reapers. So whether Sunoo has good intentions or not, you cannot accept his gift.

“I’m not hungry,” so you state looking away coldly from his gift and for a second you think it may have offended him, that it may have hurt him, but he recovers rather quickly as if coming to understand your ways of doing things.

To them, no matter how cold and ruthless you may be, you’re still their savior. Their first kindness.

“Ah then maybe you’re just tired,” he says, putting his snack away into his pocket again.

“If you’re tired, you should rest, my lady.”

“Oh but maybe she doesn’t like sleeping because of the nightmares.”

“Do you get nightmares too, my lady?”

“Or maybe things are just too busy with you.”

“You’re not overworking yourself, are you?”

“What happened there?” Junho points and when you look down at your hand, you realize he caught sight of the bandages. They all pause in their questions, blinking curiously when you hold your hand up to your face, the memories of that night wanting to slip in.

“I punched glass,” you say and they all collectively gasp.

“Whoa, you’re so cool!”

“It must’ve hurt though!”

“Did it hurt? Does it hurt now?” Hyerim’s eyes follow your hand when you place it back down beside you, her lips slightly agape as she hesitates in her approach for you, fingers fidgeting just as she looks up for your reaction. When you give her no protest in her cautious approach, she takes your hand in hers, holding it gently in her tiny little ones. “I hope the pain eases soon,” she whispers sincerely as her fingers softly glide against the bandages, soothing over your knuckles.

You stare at her for the longest time, the peace in you rising as your anger and frustrations from the past few days, weeks, and months begin slowly calming from their fire.

“I hope the pain eases soon,” she says, and when the rest of the children look at you with that same hope and light flashing in their eyes, you feel a small little ache in your chest as you realize that perhaps, in some ways, the person you are to them is the same as the person Mister Butler was to you.

It hurts.

Ah, it hurts.

.

.

.

Walking along an empty road just a few blocks away from The Academy in order to clear your head, you hear the sound of a click that can only belong to a gun and stop in your steps, remaining nonchalant as you turn at the gun pointed at your head.

A man.

Two.

One with a child held against the guy behind the first one who has a gun to your head, covering the little one’s mouth so he doesn’t make a sound with a gun also to his head. You see tears streaming down his face, the kind little boy who always led the little ones to remain brave and strong in your absence, who offered you a sweet snack when they thought you were hungry.

Sunoo.

“Do anything and the boy dies,” the man before you warns and you look his way, looking bored with your hands held behind your back, simply staring without falter.

And you guess he must have sensed your lack of fear because his brows crease right before there’s a sense of relief in his eyes when you feel a few more presence just behind you.

“Hello there, buttercup. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

You physically freeze in place.

Buttercup.

There is only one person in this world who has ever constantly called you buttercup and that person is,

“Lady Nari,” the man who holds you at gunpoint greets, and both the two men’s heads fall into a bow, though they don’t forget to keep their eyes on both you and Sunoo.

You hear her heels click when she walks over, feel her close behind you as you take in a deep breath, closing your eyes when you feel her hand on your shoulder.

You’re surrounded and one move will mean Sunoo’s life.

“Now then,” she says, “why don’t you throw away anything that will have your people track you down easily, hm?” She asks, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Unless you want the boy to die?”

Nari knows how much power she holds over you right now and that is an expression you’re far too familiar with. A spoiled little girl who grew up with a loving father who only knew to give his daughter everything she wanted. Just how many years has it been since you’ve last seen her?

None of your Reapers, not even Yuna knows that she’s one of the people who’s done you wrong, and perhaps even Nari understands this situation, which makes her all the more powerful. Who would suspect her when you’re so great at keeping your lips sealed?

You rid of your earrings, tug your necklace off, and throw any weapon on you onto the ground, all the while keeping your eyes on the woman before you, knowing there is nothing that can be done. Not unless you want Sunoo to die.

“What a good girl you are, buttercup,” she grins with brightness, “you’ve always been such a good girl, haven’t you? Though inspection is of course still needed. If anything else is found on you, you’ll receive a nice little punishment, just the way bad girls are supposed to get.”

Nari takes a few steps back, signaling to her men.

“Search her.”

Your back straightens like a tall pole as you hold your breath back while you let your eyes flutter close, trying to manipulate your body into believing the hands that fall onto you aren’t anyone threatening, that you’re okay, that you’ll be okay.

If you give Nari even the slightest bit of weakness to hold against you, you’ll end up worst than what will happen to you now so you keep still, not resisting, not doing anything, as you hear struggles from a few inches away.

“Don’t struggle,” you tell him, meeting the little boy’s eyes straight on as you allow your focus to fall on him and him alone. You try to imagine the peace he gives you, the conversations you had with the little ones just a few minutes ago as your breath threatens to give out but you hold yourself steady, watching him intently because it’s the only thing you can do.

You’ve asked Mingyu to return to the manor, he’s not here right now, and the only person here on your side is a little boy who looks up to you and sees you as his hero, his savior. He’s the only one you can rely on now in order to help you catch your breath, in order to allow you a moment to breathe again.

So you focus on Sunoo and Sunoo alone, and as if he can feel your sense of panic and how he holds some power over being that person to ground you down, Sunoo stops struggling against the man, eyes meeting you straight on.

Don’t be afraid, you wish to say and the message conveys to him when he focuses on his own breathing, trying to look as brave as he possibly can with your eyes solely on him and him alone.

When the search ends, you feel something hit you hard in the head and then the world falls pitch black.

#bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts ot7 x reader #bts polyamorous #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #bts mafia au #mafia!bts #bts mafia #bts mafia!au #bts poly!au #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts poly relationship #bts arranged marriage au #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

[krirebr]

For MTT: what if Ransom was actually looking forward to the arrangement, sick of dating and the party scene. When he sees reader it’s love at first sight for him at least.

Chelsea! This was a great ask, but answering it was hard for me. Maybe because MTT has so fully taken over my brain and trying to change it just a little tripped all sorts of internal booby traps for me.

Regardless, I was able to come up with something. Here is an alternate version of their first meeting where Ransom isn't a complete dick from his POV. But because I'm me, I, of course, can't just let these two be happy right away. Even in this alternate, alternate universe.

And somehow, even though this fought me the whole way, it's still well over 1k words. I don't know how.

No Way of Knowing

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, references to forced marriage and forced pregnancy, angst

Ransom was furious when Harlan and Linda told him. Absolutely livid. How dare they dictate his life like this! Yes, most of his friends had already entered into similar arrangements years ago, but he was doing fine the way he was!

And they were so fucking smug when they told him. ‘Oh, it’ll be so good for you.’ ‘It’s about time you settled down and joined the real world.’ Fuck that.

But. When he got home and had a chance to think calmly about it, without his mother’s resting smug face glaring at him, what was he doing, really? He was inching ever closer to forty and sleeping with random socialites just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. Almost all of his friends were married, so he didn’t really see much of them anymore. He was kind of lonely if he let himself admit it. Would this really be so terrible, if he did it for himself and not for them?

The pregnancy clause was admittedly awful but if you took the narrow timeline away for a minute, he could actually see wanting to be a father. He’d do it right, wouldn’t treat his kids the way his parents had treated him. This didn’t have to be the worst thing.

So he spent the next week going through the binder they’d given him, did what he could to get to know you. You were young, which made him a little nervous, but it wasn’t the largest age gap he’d seen in one of these things, and you were still very much an adult. You seemed intelligent (your fucking test scores were in there, which just seemed like a wild invasion of privacy) and sweet. You had a dog, which wasn’t ideal, but at least it was small, so he hoped he’d be able to tolerate it.

All in all, you didn’t seem like the typical society fare that Linda liked to parade in front of him. He dared to hope that that would hold true once he met you. That opportunity came faster than he was ready for. Just a week after he’d signed the papers, he was sitting in a restaurant, waiting for you. He already had his Macallan 18, trying to get some liquid courage before you appeared. 

You were a few minutes early and seemed surprised but pleased that he was already there. He stood up as you approached the table, partly to be polite and partly to get a better look at you. You were beautiful. Gorgeous. It was shocking, really, the way you took his breath away. That’d never happened before. 

“Hi,” you said softly as you stood opposite him and extended your hand, then gave him your name.

“Hi,” he said, somewhat stupidly. He swallowed and tried to pull himself together. “I’m Ransom,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you said, cautiously, as you sat across from him and he sat back down. “Have you ordered yet?”

He shook his head, “Just a drink. I’m ready to order food whenever, but I’m in no rush.”

You nodded and after you briefly looked at the menu, he signaled the server over. He couldn’t stop watching you as you ordered. You asked a lot of questions about their wine selection. It seemed like you knew what you were talking about. He found himself wanting you to tell him all about it, how you knew so much, why you liked it. He just wanted to listen to you. 

Once the server was gone, you looked over at him warily. You were so nervous. He wanted to reach across the table and gently hold your hand, but he wasn’t sure how it’d be received. “So,” you said carefully, “I guess we should talk about how this is going to go.”

He nodded, a little disappointed that you wanted to get down to business straight away. He wanted to just talk, get to know you, take some time, but he supposed that he couldn’t blame you for wanting to get the hard parts out of the way. “I have a house,” he said, “just outside Boston. I think you’ll like it. It’s big, in a good neighborhood, quiet. But I’m not sure how suitable it will be for starting a family. That’s something we’ll have to talk about once you’ve seen it.”

You looked at him, shocked. “Start a family? Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? We’ve only just met.”

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Oh no. “Didn’t they tell you? You didn’t read the contract?” There was no way. They couldn’t have been that cruel.

He could see the panic rising in your eyes. “They didn’t give me any time to read it,” you said, your voice wavering. “What didn’t they tell me?”

Fucking shit. How could they have done that to you? And now he had to be the one to break the news. He cleared his throat and tried to speak calmly, gently. “There's a clause in the contract. We’ll need to conceive a child within the first year.”

“What.” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, wanting to give you time to process. And he was afraid that if he tried to speak right now, his voice would come out far too angry. He needed to find out who was responsible for this, who had treated you so terribly.

“A baby,” you breathed. “With you? Right away.”

“They should have told you. Talked to you about it. I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have found out this way.” He wasn’t sure you heard him. You just stared straight ahead.

That, of course, was when the server brought out the food. The sound of your plate hitting the table right in front of you seemed to bring you back to the here and now. You looked down at it and shook your head and then looked back at him. “I don’t think I’m very hungry,” you said. 

“That’s fine. We–” 

You stood up, interrupting him. “I’m sorry,” you said, both your voice and body very stiff, “but I need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, desperate to get you to change your mind, to fix this. “I’d really like you to stay, so we can have a chance to talk.”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, your voice resolute. “I can’t tonight. Maybe– Maybe we can talk another time.” 

And then you turned around and walked away, leaving Ransom reeling. He would spend the rest of his meal thinking about all the ways he would make this up to you, earn your trust, win you over. 

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv@texmexdarling @ladyvenera @she-wolf09231982 @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes

#krismas party #ask kris #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #reader insert #knives out #arranged marriage au #drabble #ce characters #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something #more than this

[luimagines]

You Steal His Clothes Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Part three will include Warrior, Wild and Time!

Content under the cut!

Warrior

Warrior walked back from the missions briefing with sore shoulders and a headache. He had to stay a low profile since they were dealing with the locals so his typical uniform was forgone.

He rubs at his shoulders, ready to don the official garment of the hero and looks like the image people think that he can fulfill.

He goes to put on his tunic and armor as he usually does and notices something is off.

His scarf is no where to be found. Which you think he would notice at first because it’s large, bright blue, and at the bottom of his folded clothes so it takes up most of the space. How did he miss that the pile was shorter than it usually was?

He scratches his head and frowns. Frankly, this isn’t the first time this was happened, but he wishes the would at least ask first.

Wind probably has it. He’s taken it multiple times just so he can warm up and take a nap whenever he wants. It’s endearing to an extant but it’s always a challenge to get it back from the young sailor.

Warrior sighs and leaves the room without his scarf. He goes to find where the rest of the group was stationed, not having much luck with spotting the blue fabric off of the bat. He does eventually see Wind but he doesn’t have the item with him.

“Pirate.” Warrior leans on the back of the chair the young boy sits in and raises an eyebrow. “I appear to be missing something. You wouldn’t know where it is, do you?”

“Ah.” Wind blinks and he looks away quickly. Warrior knows that Wind has never been able to keep a poker face. Even now he struggles to seen nonchalant and calm. He knows who has it. Perhaps he even knows where it is.

Warrior leans forward, putting more pressure on the younger hero. “Link.”

“I don’t know!”

“I bet you do.” Warrior says calmly. “Who has it?”

“No one!”

“Uh-huh.”

“What’s going on?” You ask and Warrior turns to you to answer your question.

His jaw drops. You have his scarf, but you have it around you like a blanket. Your nose is red and your sniffling with blood shot eyes and you look miserable.

“They got sick.” Hyrule sighs. “I had a suspicion-”

“I grabbed it.” Wind admits quietly. “They were cold and the blankets weren’t enough.”

You sway a bit on your feet and Warrior rushes towards you to put you on the chair Sky as bringing towards you. You blink up at Warrior and wave a little bit. “Sorry. I saw the emblem a little too late-”

“Keep it.” Warrior tugs it around your shoulders and pinches it closed by your neck. “At least for now. We have soap and water. You need it more.”

You nod, already beginning to nod off once more. “...Ok..”

Warrior sighs, looking back at the group. They have various look of guilt on their faces as he makes eye contact with them. “How did this happen?”

“You left your scarf unattended-”

“You know what I’m asking.”

No one answers immediately.

Warrior glares. “I’ll be back.”

He picks you up, tucking you close to the crook of his neck and carries you off to where you can rest properly. Then he’s going to come back and grill the boys for answers. This changes the plans somewhat and now he has to redo everything he had only just completed.

At least you’re comfortable. It’s his only consolation. 

Wild

Wild had let you borrow his sheikah slate for the time being. He hopes you understand the weight of that action. He doesn’t share it with just anyone even if he would gladly die for this group as a whole and on an individual level.

When he gets it back relatively quickly, he’s mildly relieved and happy that the parting didn’t take so long.

He figures that you just took some potions and maybe an extra meal and that was that. Wild knew that you were going to traveling with Hyrule and there very few of them that could actually keep up with his seemingly endless energy. Aside from him and Wind, of course

“Wild, I need help with the last buckle. Think you can help me out?” You ask innocently.

Wild looks up and almost chokes in his tongue in the process.

You’re wearing his rock climbing outfit... belts and all. Wild swallows the admirably very small amount of saliva in his mouth and looks to the arms you’re holding out.

“It’s just at a weird angle and it’s on my dominant arm, you know?” You try to explain.

“Not what I thought you were going to take.” Wild blurts.

You blink and slowly pale. With another beat of silence you begin to fiddle your fingers nervously. “Oh... I thought you knew... I’m sorry. I should have been clearer-”

Wild holds a hand up, moving over to adjust the belt on your arm. He takes a note of where the notch lies and compares it to his own. The thought it more alluring that it has any right to be. “I assumed it was potions or something. Maybe a weapon. Which you can ask for at any time by the way. I just didn’t think you would go after my clothes.”

You blush scarlet. “...Don’t say it like that...” 

Wild smirks. “Like what?”

“Exactly.”

A snort. “Anyway. You need this get up becaaauuuse...??”

You bite your lip a bit and adjust the outer shirt against your body. Wild notices the way the inner one hugs your dips and curves and tries very hard to keep his eyes where yours are.

“Well Hyrule was the one to notice that there was something at the top of that mountain and he offered to go check it out but Time didn’t want him to go alone.” You wave your hand dismissively, also avoiding eye contact with him. Interesting. “Something about it being dangerous to go alone and all. And very few people here can climb as well as you can- but you’re benched-” Wild ignores the minor sting at the reminder. “-For that stunt back in Kakariko, so I volunteered.”

You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet for a moment before you look up at him again with a bashful expression. “Frankly, I know that you’re the one who’s best for this but I remembered you said that you had this outfit that helps you even when it rains sooo...I thought I’d borrow it?”

Wild tries to remember when he said that to you. But frankly, he can’t be certain. “When... did I tell you which one it was?”

You kick the dirt a bit. “Maybe.. around the fist week I joined. You were wearing it and I asked about it.”

Wild feels his eyes go wide. “That long? That was how long ago?”

“A while.” You smile a little more genuinely. “So umm... if this ok?”

“You’re fine.” Wild smirks. Enjoying the way you miss his double meaning.

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

Time

Time was busy minding his own business, enjoying a nice cup of coffee with a good book while the boys were more or less destroying the forest around his home.

But he would take that over them actually destroying his home to begin with. It took a lot of time and effort to get everything set up and he’s not so keen on starting over from zero again.

He hears some boxes fall over from the inside and internal groans. He sighs and closes his book momentarily. He calls out, “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing!” It’s you and Time relaxes. Maybe you accidentally knocked something over. He trusts you so he doubts that anything’s broken. It didn’t sound like it anyway.

He goes back to his book and his coffee.

It’s quiet for a moment before he hears some more tumbling and a muffled curse. He closes the book and gets up, figuring that you may be in need of assistance before you end up taking out a wall in the process of whatever you’re doing. “Do I even want to know-?”

You jump in front of him and scream.

Time jumps back but no sound leaves his mouth. He can feel himself freeze in place and his jaw drops. You’re in a familiar green tunic with matching hats and tights...but at least you’re wearing your own boots.

“I have to go!” You yell and dash around him.

Time can’t even thinking for a solid minute as you freak out just beyond his front door. Within seconds he can hear the boys congregate around you and begin to freak out as well.

It’s not as if he hid that he still had his old tunic. Despite everything, it managed to stay in relatively good shape. The thing is, he’s not exactly the same boy he was at at seventeen. It served him well at the time but he had no more use for it. He’s not entirely sure why he kept it.

And you found it.

“I told you he had it!” You cry in victory. “Pay up!”

“Ok, but why are you wearing it?” He hears Wind ask.

A beat passes before you respond. time has to strain himself to hear you. you must have gotten quieter in nervousness. “I thought it would fit.”

Time sighs, trying to decide what to do about this. On one hand, he doesn’t want to care too much about it. You seem excited to wear something so simple and arguably incredibly old. His book and his coffee is still calling out to him. He could return and he could ignore this.

On the other hand, you did go through his things. Time isn’t entirely sure what to feel about that. He has nothing to hide so he knows you wouldn’t have found anything particularly scandalous but why go through his things to begin with? Did you find what you were looking for?

Time rubs his temple, returning to his book before he’s fully thought of how to handle this.

He supposes you won a bet the boys must have had and that it had something to do with his old tunic. That confuses him even further. Why do the boys care? Why do you care? What on earth was that even about? Why didn’t he try to stop you?

Was it because you looked cute? 

Time stops himself. He’s ignoring the thought and reaches over to take a sip of his already cold coffee. When you pop into his head, bright eyed and stunned in his shirt and tunic-

He shot guns the coffee. 

That’s a problem for future him.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader

[matan4il]

Idk if you know who Noah Schnapp is but I feel so sad for him. He seems like a sweet kid and The internet has been sending him death threats and trying to get him fired because he’s pro Israel/anti Hamas. Noah is gay and Jewish the two groups Hamas hates the most of course he’s not gonna support them

Hi Nonnie!

I do know who Noah is. I think he seems like a nice guy, I was really happy for him when he was able to come out as gay, and get such a positive reaction, first from his family, then from the public.

He visited Israel back in July, almost 3 months before Oct 7, and already he was getting attacked simply for that. I think it's SICK in the worst way possible, that Jewish people are getting harassed for even simply visiting their ancestral land, and it's the kind of racism we wouldn't see turned on ANY other marginalized group in the US. Kids of Mexican descent don't get attacked simply for visiting Mexico, African Americans don't get vilified for visting Africa, no matter what people think of these countries. It's anti-Jewish racism to do this to Jews, and it should be loudly called out and condemned. Noah was brave to post about this visit, he was brave to explicitly say he had never felt as alive as he did visiting his ancestral land, and getting to know fellow young Jews here, but he shouldn't have to be.

By now, however, as the attacks on him intensified since Hamas' massacre, and Noah's continued support for Israel, of native Jewish rights in our land, and calling out Hamas for being the vile organization they are (you're right, it is vile to Jews AND to gay people. In fact, it's an organization that should be vile to ANYONE who claims to care about human rights), he's deleted most of his posts from his visit here on his IG, only one remains, and he removed the caption for that one, which is that one that IIRC said he's never felt more alive. Now there's no caption, and it's still apparently taking a lot out of him to simply keep it up on his account.

He did try to backtrack, IDK to what a degree he might have been pressured to. He's certainly not the first Jewish celeb I've seen having to do that, and later admitting they were motivated by fear and harssment. The "kind" anti-Israel crowd is definitely implying Noah is only doing it due to Stranger Things' new season which is about to be released. I'm afraid whatever the reason, he's about to find out that if the antisemites can't tokenize you to use you against other Jews, then you're forever a "bad Jew," and nothing you say will ever change that. On the way, I guess he'll disappoint many Jewish followers, who looked up to him when he was one of the few celebs, even more so one of a handful of young celebs, to stand by Israel. The anti-Israel crowd claims to be persecuted, silenced and bullied, but as far as I can tell, especially with young people like him, they're the ones doing the persecuting, silencing and bullying. I'm really saddened that he felt he had to backtrack his support of Israel, to a great degree because it tells me just how severe the attack and pressure on him must be, and I just don't want any Jew to suffer.

But this actually brings me to another, maybe more important point: just because celebrities have a bigger stage than the rest of us, it doesn't mean they know more about politics than others. If Noah, as a Jew, could safely speak about his experiences as a young Jewish man, I think that would be fantastic, just like I think it's great whenever a queer celeb comes out of their own accord and shares some of their experiences. It's a really sad thing to realize that in 2024, it's safer to talk about being gay, and to speak up for gay rights, than to be Jewish and speak against antisemitism, or about Jewish experiences, or for Jewish rights. But beyond sharing personal experiences, celebrities don't understand a conflict as complex as the Israeli-Arab one, and with as much history as this one has, more than the average Tiktoker. Neither one is an authority, and neither one should be who people go to for their political views. The fact that people look at Tiktokers as any kind of authority, or have expectations from celebs regarding political views and bully them for the "wrong" ones (based on what Tiktokers said) is a part of what has gone horribly wrong with modern society.

The internet was supposed to help us fight misinformation through the availability of facts. Instead, we see repeatedly how what is true falls prey to what is viral.

Sending big hugs, and I hope you're doing good! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

[quinloki]

Ace/Izou/Marco/Thatch - Semi-Sweet

Requestor: Anonymous Reader Vibes Requested: AFAB she/her CW: references to drowning, time in a coma, maybe more sweet than semi, based it a little off of the kinktober series

Eyes alight with flames, a hand wreathed in fire, a voice booming and desperate - the last things you had seen before your body had hit the ocean waves.

“The rough storm had ripped you off the deck of the Moby, you don’t have a devil fruit, but the ship was massive, and you aren’t. Even with your haki protecting you, you hit the water so hard it had knocked you unconscious.

“Even with the storm raging, members of the crew had dove off the ship to find you. I got held back, but someone like me diving into the water wouldn’t have helped.

“You were in the water… a long time. Thatch couldn’t find a pulse when he surfaced with you, couldn’t get you to breathe. Pops had used his own devil fruit to banish the storm, and the entire crew had turned toward you. Izou had performed CPR until you hacked up half the ocean and started breathing on your own. He cracked three ribs in the process, and no one knew how hurt you were before that.

“Marco didn’t sleep for almost three days. Even with Me an’ Thatch an’ Izou helping him, he couldn’t barely find fitful naps, let alone any useful sleep. He kept abusing his devil fruit to keep himself sharp, until Pops’ laid him out and forced him to rest yesterday.”

A cheerful young man sat beside your bed, clumsily peeling apples for you. When you’d asked him what happened he hadn’t held back. He didn’t look or feel threatening, and the warmth that radiated from him was comfortable.

“Thatch and Izou got some sleep once you were stable, and it was my turn to watch over you, so here we are.” He hands over the plate of apple slices, and you happily begin to nibble on one. You’re pretty sure you shouldn’t eat after four days of being in a coma, but you’re too hungry to let good sense stop you.

“How do you feel?”

“… Sore,” you answer softly, taking another small bite. “Hungry.” Your brow furrows, and you set the apple slice you were working on down. “Confused.”

“Confused about?” He questions, tilting his head.

You are quiet for a long moment, but he gives you plenty of time to sort your thoughts before you reply.

“I don’t… know any of those names.” You admit, frustration on your face. You’re not looking at him, but you can see his body jerk. “I don’t…” Your voice shifts from frustration and becomes small, tears pulling at the corners of your eyes. “Remember you.”

“You - Ah, it’s okay.” He responds. You look up and can tell the smile on his face is strained, but he’s trying to look cheerful. “Marco… um, he’s the ship’s doctor, he said that you might not remember things when you woke up.” He puts a hand to his chest. “I’m Ace, we’re… we’re crew mates, you’re part of the Whitebeard Pirates. You joined before me, so Thatch or Izou or Marco would be able to fill you in better than me.”

“Ace.” You say the name and watch his face twist in an odd emotion. “Thatch pulled me out of the sea, and Izou cracked my ribs.”

“To save you, to save you!” Ace adds quickly. “Izou has amazing control, and Marco was busy getting the sick bay ready in case he needed to do something more complicated to save you.”

“… I caused distress. I’m sorry.” You say it firmly, eyes downcast.

“Bwha- what? No, I mean, yeah, but… er… you don’t hafta apologize for it.” He assures you. “People were worried cause they care.”

“That’s -.”

“Ah, little miss negative is back.” A voice says from the doorway, you and Ace turn and look and Ace nods toward the tall dark-haired man.

“Izou.”

“You helped save me, thank you.” You bow slightly from your position in the bed, wincing against unexpected pain.

“Think nothing of it,” Izou replies, stepping into the room. He moves the apple slices away from you and gently pushes you by your shoulders until you’re laying down again. “If Marco comes in and you’re sitting up and eating, he’ll toss all of us into the sea.”

“I was hungry.”

“She was hungry.”

You and Ace speak up at the same time and Izou gives you a withering look. “Of course she’s hungry, she’s been in a coma for almost four days.” He snaps. “But food on a stomach that empty can come right back up. You don’t have the strength to vomit.

“Ace, go wake up Marco and Thatch. Tell that big oaf to make the best bone stock he can, but you come back with broth from yesterday’s soup. Clear, Ace. Clear broth.” Izou reiterates as the freckled youth takes off.

Izou sits in the chair Ace had been using.

“When you first joined you were like this.” He begins. His voice is full of warmth, like Ace’s, but different. Muted comparatively, but just as comforting. “So was I. Worried about the etiquette of a world that doesn’t matter here. Feeling like a stranger when I was surrounded by a family I never knew I needed.”

He adjusts how he’s sitting a little, the soft shifting of silk almost makes your heart ache. It’s a sound that slips through your body and tightens around your bones. You can’t remember why right now, but the emotion is undeniable.

“You adjusted faster than I did.” He continues on. “Danced right into everyone’s heart so quickly it was almost concerning. Admittedly, you danced more forcefully into some hearts than others, and created a kind of family within the family.”

Silent tears slip down your cheeks and Izou brushes the away with warm and tender fingers.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You’ll remember. I have faith, pretty flower.” He assures you. “If you don’t, then it will be what it will be, and we’ll be happy that you’re still here.”

A soft knock at the door interrupts your thoughts and Izou speaks up for them to enter. A tall man steps inside, button up shirt open and tattoo on his chest visible. He has blonde hair, and there are deep circles under his eyes, but his entire demeanor brightens when he sees you’re awake.

“There she is.” He says warmly. You look from him to Izou and he points back toward him.

“Marco, our resident doctor.” He clarifies.

“Pineapple.” You say, before covering your mouth and turning away. There’s a moment of silence before the two lose their battle against the laughs bubbling up in them and your mortification changes to an odd embarrassment.

“Progress.” Izou says, stepping out of the way as Marco came to your bedside.

“I’ll take it,” Marco says. “Pardon me, I need to check your vitals.” He explains and you look back toward him and nod.

He checks your pulse, your reaction to a light in your eyes, temperature, listens to your heart, and presses and prods and few places asking if anything hurts. He asks you a few questions, and while you can remember your name, you don’t seem to be able to answer any of the other questions.

The soft smile on his face and the even cadence of his voice don’t change regardless of your answers, and there’s comfort in it. The two of them bring in a couple more chairs, and assure you that if you want to be left alone you only need ask, but if you can deal with them, there are at least four crew members who will want to visit with you while you have some broth.

Marco and Izou get you repositioned so you can sit up easily, and they get a tray for the bed. The two seem content to sit quietly with you for the couple moments it takes for Ace to return. There’s another man with him, tallest of the lot, though not by much, with an impressive pompadour hair style.

Both of them have a bowl of steaming broth in their hands.

“One clear,” the new comer says, “One with finely ground ginger.” He explains to Marco. “Ginger usually helps settle stomachs, so I wanted you to have a choice.”

Marco nods. “A couple spoonfuls won’t hurt, yoi. But mostly clear to be safe.” He decides and they shuffle things around a little before setting a bowl in front of you.

“Clear soup to help clear your head.” The big man says as he hands you a spoon.

“Her head’s already clear, Thatch,” Ace snaps at him. “That’s the problem.”

“Maybe it’s foggy instead you little wretch. The soup will help.” Thatch retorts, irritation on his face even as he’s trying to keep his composure.

“It’s hot meat juice, not medicine.” Ace grumbles.

“Broth is-.” Marco starts, but his eyes catch yours and he pauses. The air in the room freezes and you can feel everyone looking at you, but your caught in your own thoughts.

Spoon in your mouth, warm broth down your throat, something about the conversation has tears running down your face. You’re not upset, but you can’t stop the tears. You move, enough to have another spoonful of broth despite your crying. There’s something about the actions and the taste that compel you.

“It was… terrible.” You mutter, spooning another bit of broth into your mouth as a smile pulled at your lips for the first time since you woke. “I… I tried to make broth and it was awful.” You set the spoon down and wipe away persistent tears that continue to fall despite your efforts.

“Thatch was sick, and I wanted to help.” You continue through your quiet tears. Sniffling softly you smile. “I’d never cooked before, and it was just so bad.”

Thatch flinches as the other three look at him. “I insisted otherwise,” he asserts.

You laugh a little, there’s more mirth and energy in it, and the tears are subsiding. “You did. I had some when I got back to the kitchen and poured the rest of it out. It was,” you start laughing despite yourself. “So bad.”

Looking over at the others you can feel your face heating up. “I confessed after that.”

“To making bad broth?” Ace questions, tilting his head. Marco smacks the back of his head.

You shake your head, and Thatch speaks up for you. “She admitted to likin’ me, but also to likin’,” he makes quotes in the air for the next few words. “A couple other people too, and thought it was wrong to like her crew mates like that.”

“Turned out the other people she liked were already in a relationship with Thatch,” Izou teases, cocky grin on his lips as he brushes his hand across your cheek, wiping away an errant tear. “You remember us, sweet flower?”

You nod. “Magic soup.” You say, which is what Thatch had called the abomination you’d fed him all those years ago.

#Forget Me Not Event 2024 #reader insert #x reader #amnesia #one piece fanfiction #request event #angst #izou one piece #thatch one piece #marco the phoenix #portgas d ace

[99hook]

So I know it’s not wrote about often but I’ve been brewing with this cute idea and if you don’t wanna write it it’s fine! Can I possibly request a Hook x Female!Reader (who also wrestled with AEW) where they’ve been in a relationship for a while now and they end up accidentally getting pregnant and she ends up having a rough pregnancy but she’s also hard headed and wants to keep traveling so poor Tyler is honestly doing his best making sure his girl is comfortable and okay while also wrestling and taking care of himself?

This was literally so fun to write! I’m sorry it took me so long to get it posted I’ve been trying to write everyone’s request at once! I hope you love it!

Warnings: protective!hook, angst, pregnancy complications, fluff, some smut (in the form of lovemaking 🥲)

Tyler was absolutely terrified but that was the very last thing he wanted you to see. As soon as those two pink lines appeared, all he could think about was the future and how drastically things were about to change. You were both so young and had just gotten your careers started and now he knew he was no longer going to be prioritizing his profession, but you and his future child.

He held you tight as you sobbed into his chest, the pregnancy test in his hand as he stared at it in disbelief, but there was no mistaking those two bold lines. He felt you trembling and tightened his arms around you, swaying you side to side. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He whispered against your hair before placing a kiss to the top of your head.

The two of you agreed to keep it under wraps for a while. You only told Tony so he knew you’d no longer be able to wrestle, but you denied it when he offered you maternity leave starting at twelve weeks along, even though Tyler insisted you should take it.

“I still want to work.” You told Tony as you and Tyler sat in his office. You felt him give your hand a squeeze but he didn’t say anything. “If there’s anyway you can give me a couple of segments or something, Mr. Khan, I would greatly appreciate it.”

Tony nodded. He hadn’t stopped smiling since you and Tyler told him the news. “I’m sure I can work that out.”

“Maybe not every week.” Tyler spoke up, “She’s been getting sick a lot and the doctors told her she needed to rest more.” He tells Tony who nods in understanding.

“They gave me medication for the nausea and I’ve been feeling much better since.”

“She wasn’t able to eat dinner last night or breakfast this morning without getting sick.” He keeps his eyes on Tony as he counters your remark.

“I see.” He says as he eyes you and Tyler both. “How about you keep me posted about how you’re doing and if you’re feeling well enough then we’ll get you some segments?”

“I promise I’m okay. I only get sick after I eat.”

“She doesn’t eat. She can’t eat.”

“Tyler, please let me speak for myself.” You snap at him, and he looks over at you with soft eyes.

“Y/N, the doctors already told you to rest more. Tony is offering you exactly that and you’re not taking it.” He points out. Tony dropped his head, feeling a bit awkward as he stood there listening to the fuss.

“I will rest more, but I don’t want to completely stop working. What’s wrong with a couple of minutes in front of the camera for a little talking segment? It’ll be fine, Tyler.”

He clamped his mouth shut. It was clear he wanted to say more but he didn’t and that’s when you looked back at Tony and nodded. “Thank you, Mr. khan. I’ll be ready whenever you are for the segments.”

Tony nodded tightly. He caught Tyler’s eyes and how they were filled with concern. “Not a problem. I’m happy for you guys. Try to enjoy this as much as you can. You only get one first time pregnancy.”

But Tyler was finding it so hard to enjoy when all he worried about was you all the time. You were getting worse as the weeks went by yet you always failed to see that. Or maybe you did and just wouldn’t admit it. Either way, he could see you getting weaker by the day. You continued getting sick and were diagnosed with Hypermeses Gravidarum at fifteen weeks.

Tyler didn’t know what the hell that fancy term meant until the doctor explained that it’s basically violent vomiting. Then it all made sense since he’s had to hold your hair back for hours at a time for weeks now.

“You’re not gaining as much as you should be right now.” The doctor tells you. “Are you able to hold down anything?”

“No.” Tyler answers before you could. “She is sick all the time. All she can eat are crackers usually.”

The doctor nods and looks over at you. “Have you still been taking the Zofran?”

You nodded back. You were feeling queasy that moment but you didn’t try to show it.

“Alright. Well the first thing I want to do is take a look at that baby, then we’ll figure out something else we can give you that will hopefully help you be able to hold things down better.”

You inhaled deeply and laid back, pulling your shirt up to expose the slight bump that was forming. Tyler leaned up in his seat next to you and intently watched as the ultrasound technician spread some gel over your lower stomach and grabbed the probe.

Tyler’s eyes adverted to the screen the minute it caught his attention and there you both saw the form of your fifteen week baby, wiggling it’s arms and legs.

“Oh my God” you breathed out shakily as you stared in awe. Tyler was unable to speak, or do anything at all except watch. He felt his heart swell, filling up to maximum capacity in his chest.

You looked over to catch his reaction, seeing a wide, toothy smile on his face.

“That’s our baby” you whispered, doing your best not to cry as you extended out your hand. He grabbed it tightly and placed a tender kiss to your knuckles.

That was probably the only time Tyler felt relief. When he saw your future daughter or son and the doctor assured you both that he or she was as healthy as can be.

A couple of weeks past by though, and you kept getting worse. You started to have some swelling in your legs and feet and he knew it was because you wouldn’t stay off of them.

He massaged the soles as you laid on the couch with a cool washcloth draped over your eyes, trying to fight the crippling migraine that was making your whole head throb.

“The swelling is getting worse.” Tyler says as he tries to use his hands to massage it down. He pressed one finger into your calf and noticed the indentation it left long after. “That’s not normal. We should call the doctor.”

“It’s fluid build up.” You tell him. You’ve googled all of it.

“But your legs are double the size almost.” He counters as he keeps rubbing them from underneath your knees and down to your toes. “You need to start staying in bed like the doctor told you in the first place. You’re twenty weeks and already having all these issues, Y/N.”

You tried to ignore him but he didn’t let you.

“Are you listening to me?” His voice became a little edgier. “Do you not care?”

“Obviously I care, Tyler.” You snatched the washcloth off of your face to look at him. “But you act like it’s always like that. It’s not. It’s just when I’ve been walking around a lot which is normal.”

Tyler’s hands stilled as he stared back at you before he tore his eyes away with a long, drawn out sigh.

A few days later, you just got back from the arena together after a long night at work. He had groggy eyes as he watched you head straight for the bed, collapsing down on top of the sheets, exhausted.

He took your shoes off for you, noticing the swelling of your feet getting worse like he had been telling you for weeks, but he didn’t say anything this time because he knew you’d just argue about it.

“I’m gonna go shower.” He whispered as he leaned down and placed a kiss to your forehead.

“Wait” you whispered before he could turn around, grabbing his forearm. “Let me take one with you.”

Knowing you already took one right before you both left for work, he was apprehensive about it. You hadn’t been intimate in a couple of weeks due to the fact that he was simply terrified that he could possibly do something to hurt you and the baby so, every time you tried, he would always find some excuse not to.

But he knew it was making you feel sad that he would no longer touch you the way he really wanted to. He could tell that you were deprived and so was he, he was just so scared and so tired of being that way so he tried to do everything in his power to prevent anything at all happening that he possibly could.

He sighed as he kneeled down beside the bed to get eye level with you. He was starting to get dark circles under his eyes from all the constant worry and sleepless nights and you felt a pain in your heart when you saw it.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispered, his eyes searching yours for any hint that you weren’t, but you nodded and let a small smile linger upon your lips before you leaned foward and placed a kiss to his own, trying to reassure him but he was convinced nothing would until he’s holding you and your child in his arms.

He hesitated, but he nodded before he stood up and grabbed your hand, helping you off the bed.

It had been so long since you’d been tangled up in a moment like this with him that he was struggling, genuinely not to lose all of his control.

The shower started out with you both slowly removing each others clothes. He placed lingering kisses to your shoulder as he unclasped your bra and slid the straps down your arms. He tasted the flavor of your smooth skin and his tongue immediately recognized it, as if he’d been craving it.

He made sure you understood him when he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands and said, “If you need me to stop, please, please tell me. Don’t think twice about it, okay?”

He led you into the shower, adjusting the temperature just the way you like it. The water casted down over both of your bodies and steam began swirling around as his lips landed on yours gently.

He was trying with all his might not to get too carried away and it was the hardest thing for him to do when your hands ran down his chest, nails gently raking over his abs.

Your bump was keeping a little distance between you when all you wanted was to merge with his body, be as close as humanly possible but, he found a way to make it happen when he sat down on the hotel’s shower seat and pulled you over him, straddling his thighs as he kissed all down your neck.

You were so deprived of this and hadn’t realized it until just then. Your body was tingling, skin was ignited with a thousand little fires everywhere he touched.

You reached down in pure anticipation and grabbed his hard length, wrapping your hand around it and earning a breathy sigh to slip past his lips.

Just as you positioned yourself, he caught your eyes and searched for any sign of hesitation one last time, but you gave him nothing but assurance when you lowered yourself onto him and your eyes instantly rolled back.

You were squeezing him so tight it was hard for him to keep himself composed but he was intently watching you and every single reaction carefully.

Your hands gripped his shoulders and you started slowly swaying your hips back and to, feeling him completely fill the space between your walls.

His eyes fluttered as you rocked against him, his hands holding you by the hips as he watched you use him for what you needed. The steam filled your throat as you sucked in a deep breath when he started thrusting his hips slowly.

“Is it too much?” He heavily breathed out. “Tell me if it is.”

You shook your head abruptly and dug your nails into his shoulders. “No, not too much” you moaned out as your hips moved in perfect harmony. “Feels so good”

Your breathy sighs and sweet moans kept his head spinning as he pushed himself into you, watching the beads of hot water slide down your body. His hands roamed around your waist and slid up your back as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you closer to him.

Your head dropped to his shoulder as he picked up the pace just a little bit, making your moans morph into sounds he’d never heard from you before.

“I love you, mamas” he heavily whispered before he placed three kisses to your shoulder.

You were quickly coming to the beautiful end and he could feel it when your walls throbbed around him, sucking him right back in every time he slid halfway out of you.

“Baby, I want you to come for me.” He tightens his arms around you, your breasts pushed against his chest, the need for the closeness you’d been dying to feel again finally satisfied.

“I want to feel your come dripping down my thighs, then you’re gonna feel mine when I fill you up, and it’s dripping out of you in the morning.” His hips jolt, hitting that spot so deep you felt your entire body buzz.

“Want you to be so fucked out like your pretty little ass deserves to be. Want you to think about this-“ he speeds up, holding you still while he fucks up into you, “every single time I’m not around. Can you do that? Can you come for me mamas? I want it, baby. I need it.”

His voice was filled with desperation as he tried to hold back. He was hearing the mixed moans and whimpers filling the steamy space and coupling that with your slick bodies sliding against one another was doing nothing but making him suffer, so close to his release but he needed to get you there first.

He pulled you back, his eyes watching the dazed and blissed out look casted over your face as you bit down on your lip in an attempt to keep from screaming too loud but,

“Go ahead” he coaxed you, “be as loud as you need to be. I wanna hear it. Wanna hear what you have to say about this. Wanna hear those pretty little lips scream my name for this entire hotel to hear.”

You were puffing and panting when those breathy sighs turned into loud whimpers that got lost within his mouth the second he covered yours with his.

His tongue slid over yours and swirled around it, the flavor of mint gum finding your tastebuds and tingling your tongue.

“Come on beautiful” he whispered, “come for me”

It was almost as if he said the magic words. Your entire body jolted, muscles clenched tight as a surge rushed through your veins and his name flew past your lips.

He watched with eyes of adoration before his hits stuttered, then stilled. You collapsed against his chest and he buried his face in the crook of your neck as you both endured the sensations riveting through your bodies.

Heavy breaths mixed into the steam as the two of you came down and he kept his arms wrapped tightly around you as he held you for five extra minutes longer.

He felt a little less apprehensive about it after that night in the shower but once your belly started rounding out, he suddenly became ten times more protective over you.

He didn’t want you in any crowds, he didn’t want you around too many people, he didn’t want you driving, he especially didn’t want you out of his sights in general.

Every time you had a segment to shoot he was right there behind the camera. Anytime you wanted to go shopping or out to eat he made sure he scheduled in the time to do it. His biggest fear was something happening to you and it was exemplified now more than ever now.

He gave up trying to get you to take that maternity leave and decided he just needed to take a new approach. He made sure you stayed close by at all times. You wanted to be ringside for his matches but he adamantly refused, so to meet in the middle, he had you sit at the commentator desk right next to his dad.

By this time there was absolutely no way that his oversized hoodie would hide your belly so, the one and only time you stepped back in the ring was when you and him made the announcement that you were expecting and that it was a boy.

He walked over to you and removed your coat, revealing your twenty-eight week bump for the world to see. He stood next to you proudly as you both took in the chaotic screams all around the arena before he pulled you into him and kissed you for the first time on camera, and in front of thousands of people in the crowd.

But the moment things seemed to have been looking up, the doctor broke the news that you had pre-eclampsia. Another term Tyler didn’t know, but it scared him half to death after he spent hours googling horror stories about it.

There was no room for arguing anymore when he told you it was time to take that maternity leave. He brought you to Tony’s office ready to do whatever the hell he had to do in order to get you out of work whether you liked it or not.

You sat in the chair with your swollen legs propped up on the one next to you that he would’ve been sitting in while he stood behind you, massaging your shoulders.

“Pre-eclampsia is serious, Y/N.” Tony told you, Tyler nodding in agreement silently. “I know you wanted to be here as long as you could but you need to put your safety and the safety of your son first.”

You were on the verge of tears for the fact that you knew you were going to have to say goodbye to your job for a while now.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable keeping you here when I know the only thing you need to be doing is resting.”

You felt Tyler’s hands give your shoulders a squeeze and if you looked up at him you knew you’d see nothing but relief.

“I know.” You sighed. “I just don’t want to leave. I love it here. I love my career. I’ll never love any other career like this, and I know that.”

“Your position is always going to be secured here.” Tony assured you. “You can come back and I’ll gladly resign you whenever the time is right for you and your family. But for right now, you need to focus on you and your child. That’s the most important thing.”

And that’s what you did. Every so often you made a small appearance at the commentator table to watch Tyler’s match but that was only when he didn’t feel like arguing with you to stay back at the hotel and let you come to the arena because you just missed it too much.

You were nearing your induction date and he was about to take a month off for bonding time but he had one final match and you wanted more than anything to be there.

You stayed next to taz at the table and watched tyler in the ring. He wanted to stay focused on his match against Jack Perry especially knowing the FTW title was on the line but all he could think about was you and how you’d been having on and off contractions for days.

He was so exhausted from making two hospital visits only to be sent back home when they told you that you weren’t in labor just yet even though you’d been having so many tightenings and pains in your stomach. He felt like at any moment you were going to have to head to the hospital, so he wasn’t sleeping, to say the least.

“And I just want to say, for the record that my grandson is going to be here this time next week” taz exclaims on commentary, grinning from ear to ear. “So if you don’t see me next Wednesday, it’s because I’ve got better things to do than sit with these two guys”

You chuckled at that and watched the ring. Tyler was giving it his all but you knew how it was going to end and even though you hated that, you were thankful that Tony came up with something last minute when Tyler told him he needed to take his time off a little early. It meant he was losing the FTW title but when he returns, he’ll win it back.

His eyes kept lingering over to you every chance he got, making sure you were okay. He knew his dad was there so he felt a little more comfortable but in his mind he always thought about really improbable what ifs, like what if someone from the crowd jumps up on stage and tries to attack you or the building just suddenly collapses.

His mind was ate up with fear at this point and he was unfortunately letting it show tonight as much as he tried not to.

Once the match was over he waited for Jack to finally get out the ring so he could get off the canvas and back to you. He walked over to you, the crowd popping when they saw him grab your hand and lead you over to the stage. They may not have realized how far along you were until they saw your well rounded belly.

Tyler turned to face the crowd for what he knew was going to be the very last time for at least a month, and it was bittersweet for him and you but now he could finally give all of his attention and focus to you and your son and that was the only reason why he finally felt a little bit of relief. After such a long and terrifying nine months you were finally about to meet your son and all of these complications and worries would wash away the second you both lay eyes on him.

“You’re looking at Hook and Y/N for the last time like this folks. Next time you see them, they’re gonna be parents.” Taz says as he watches you and Tyler take in the screams and chants for the last time. “And I’m gonna be one proud grandfather.”

#hook aew #hook #aew hook #hook imagine #hook x reader #hook nation rise #tyler senerchia #send hook

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: ghost!gojo x f!reader, mentions of death, manga spoilers, mentions of character death(s), mentions of sick parents, reader being nurturing, satoru being intruiged by reader, reader talking to herself even though she knows she's being listened to, slight fluff at the end, gojo feeling some type of way word count: 2.2k a/n: someone help me name this series. this is the quickest time I've written a pt. 2 after a part 1. also, shout out to mitski's my love mine all mine for the extra kick to finish the end. I was supposed to sleep 2 hrs ago, so here's the unedited chapter. here is part 1. some inspiration to the gojo clan home: photo 1,

5 months into your arrival as his nephew's tutor, satoru thinks you've finally accepted his presence, yet he never plans to outwardly reach out to you because what if you told his family in the estate?

he should feel relieved over this, but bringing his clan in this issue would surely bring more problems than he'd like to admit. if he were 'dead' now, imagine what his clan would do once he really died?

shortly before finishing his fight with kenjaku, satoru was blindly cursed. "I may not be able to bring the strongest with me, but I will curse you, satoru gojo," the words still echo in the back of his head.

"your spirit will remain the same, your being remains, but you will be here no more, in the presence for others to see. you shall remain invisible, a ghost to all, and you'll be lucky to be noticed by anyone who does not already know your inherit value as a sorcerer. known by all, but never remembered."

satoru thinks back to that fateful day, ending the life of a stranger inside the body of his best friend, the epitome of his youth, hopes, and aspirations. satoru remembers the look on his student's faces, blank disappointment. either at him or themselves, but he knows it's geared towards him. shoko's knuckles barely turn white as her lips press into a tight line, while yuuji chokes on air as he's on his knees, other students at his side, attempting to console him while megumi lays unconscious several feet away. he turns out okay in the end, with a minor concussion and a few injuries he'd like to thank shoko for fixing up, the boy lives.

and on that day, gojo satoru died from the face of the earth.

he doesn't know how or why he ended up in his estate. a large, but quaint home with endless scenery and a garden right out of a movie. the house still holds traditional japanese elements, but the peony shrubs his mother had planted stick out like a sore thumb.

just like her.

young, beautiful, and once full of life. hopeful to marry into a family that would one day accept her albeit she was a foreigner, marrying a man whom she thought was serious and sophisticated enough to handle marriage.

but oh how foolish we are to assume the best in others when it comes to matters of the heart.

when he was alive, satoru would regularly check in with the old nanny, ensuring that the shrubs were trimmed and water just right. he knew just how much those flowers meant to his mother. a pretty housewife who no matter what she did was never enough to impress the clan.

until satoru was born. her pride and joy, holding no mind to the comments of his white hair and how he held ancestral resemblance to an ancient sorcerer from within the clan. all his mother knew was that she was head over heels in love with the peaceful human she was able to carry for nine months. no concern for the future, only hope that his son would see and be treated with the humanness he deserved to have. but oh how fate twists. one thing leads to another and his mother now requires a blanket everywhere she goes. she still hangs out in the gardens, spending what time she can with her son who is now 5, nearly 6. and then she's bed bound, finding solace in the brush stokes against the canvas and the warmth of her son.

sometimes, satoru carries the bitter reminder yet anger towards his father. he never saw them happy, only formal and curt, almost as if being together was a chore for him, and his mother's smile would falter when he would avoid a hug from her. the smell of cheap vanilla perfume stained his coat, hanging by his arm, and satoru's mother would simply look towards the ground. almost in shame.

he never loved his mother, satoru then realized as an adult. not even bring her up in the lonely nights, reminisce her life, what they shared, it was as if she was a long-forgotten chapter in his life.

you arrive in august, cheerful and kind. he thinks you won't last long because his family demands unreasonably long hours and surely your boyfriend back home would not approve, but he was surprised, 3 months in your stay that you continued to tutor his nephew. you seemed much more genuine than any other temporary nanny he had when he was a kid, satoru thinks, but then again he and hotaru are completely different in terms of cursed energy.

when november is nearing it's end, you decide to stay a few extra minutes in the garden. hotaru has now joined his family for dinner, and he watches the estate nanny walk towards you and hand you a mug. he can't quite hear what you're both saying since the leaves rustle a little too loudly for his liking, but he notices the 'oh' you make is serious, followed by a nervous chuckle after the nanny had said something.

satoru wonders what you must have said as the nanny suddenly rises from the garden stone bench, looking at his direction as he leans against a tree. she tells you something before departing, and you sigh moments later.

"I can feel you're around, you've been watching us for some time, and I know it." you speak almost so knowingly that it makes satoru swallow the lump at the back of his throat, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as the white housecat, mochi, startles you.

you leave shortly after.

12 days of your normal routine pass when satoru notices something is wrong. hotaru doesn't eat as much and at night, he calls for you. "you'll spoil him if you keep letting him be around that commoner," a distant aunt of satoru, one who he wasn't particularly fond of sneers at the nanny, "now he's calling her before bedtime,"

"he's 5," the nanny says, almost defensively. if anyone were to speak to his aunt like that then the staff would have surely been fired, but after working in the estate for nearly 30 years, satoru's father would have prohibited the dismissal of a staff member with this much seniority over something like this. "his mother is ill, and the boy's tutor has been his only maternal rock at this point. he doesn't open up to anyone but her, so we would be doing the nephew of gojo satoru a disservice by treating his nephew the way you treat him." satoru watched at how furiously the woman's brows furrowed then softened, speechless and at a loss for words before she gives up and leaves.

within an hour, you are quick to make it to the estate with a much more informal set of clothes. a pair of joggers and loungewear ideal for the nearing winter. it is past 10 when you hold the boy in his arms, talk to him about his problems, make a pinky promise (not just any promise) with him, and read him a bedtime story you had so thoughtfully decided to bring in your bag.

within minutes, the boy instantly falls asleep tucked to your side and the look you hold in your face makes satoru stare in admiration as he sits from one of the rocking chairs across the room. gently placing the book down, you kiss hotaru's forehead. "I'll see you on thursday," you promise the sleeping child before heading outside where hatoru's nanny greets you. she bows her head momentarily.

"we cannot thank you enough for your work, miss." she says, hands formally clasped together at her front. "we have made sleeping arrangements for you to stay the night. we insist, as a commute back home at this hour is late," she adds, "we have set up nightwear and can even prepare dinner for you miss."

"thank you," you say simply, politely, "I... I really don't mean to intrude nor cause any-"

"oh you could never," the woman says, "please, allow us to be your host for the night. and do not worry about waking up at an hour in fear of inconveniencing us. we have multiple guest bedrooms and would be honored to let you stay."

satoru notices the expression in your face soften as he knows that you can't possibly say no know, so you accept. choosing to spend the night. the staff set you up in a nice, private room with your own exit to the gardens. and the estate chef sends you his best soup and side dishes to fill your stomach on this cold night.

"you clearly don't have to worry about anything in here," you speak lowly but loudly enough for satoru to hear. you sit and lean against your slide shift door, facing the garden as satoru sits on the wooden surface of the 'sidewalk' (referenced in photo one). and he nearly wants to laugh at your comment, swaying his feet that he almost kicks some of the pebbled stones.

"but... hotaru still worries," you definitely have his attention now as you sigh softly, troubled, not knowing the spirit of hotaru's uncle listens to you.

"sometimes... I don't know what to do. sometimes... I feel like I can cross a boundary, but I'm an employee at the end of the day. how can I act as his therapist without... being this motherly to him?"

there was clearly a problem that satoru didn't know the answer to, but he sympathized with you trying to take on as many roles as you possibly could. he knew how complicated his family clan was. how you would always and forever walk on eggshells around them and no matter what you accomplished, it was never enough.

"I try, I really do..." your murmur to yourself, and a long silence passes as you sit in the quietness of the room. "I..." you chuckled, "I'm sorry, I can't believe I'm doing this- talking to myself, hoping something or some spirit is listening when in reality I'm just speaking to myself like a complete fool, or a japanese spirit is here right now truly mind boggled as a girl speaks in english," you stand to your feet and chuckle, heading to your bed. as satoru hears yourself bickering, the corner if his lip tugs ever so slightly upwards.

he wants to say something. thinks about what the possibility of you talking with him would be like. and as you're making your way to the bed, you still go off on a tangent.

"...no, I bet they do understand me." you argue with yourself, lecturing as if you had your own personal podcast, "if feelings are universal, so are energies and vibrations... meaning one of two things." now you're walking back and forth, concentrated on your own footsteps. satoru wants to chuckle, scare you off even, but this entertainment was the best thing he's had since he could remember. so he decided to wait this one out.

"1- the spirits must think I'm an idiot, I mean I already look like one here, but... 2, they can sense my energy." satoru feels his figurative heart drop to his stomach when you instantly look in his direction, did you know he was here all along? he thinks for a split moment, your eyes sharp with knowing.

you shudder, as your hairs stand on the sides of your arms. not unpleasantly, but enough to know some energy besides your own was here. after a short consideration, you speak.

"move a pebble if you're here," your eyes don't leave his direction, and satoru sits motionless, almost afraid you could see the real him, break all notions of metaphysical theories and curses, and then, you walk towards him; sitting criss cross applesauce.

"I know you're here," softly, you whisper, and satoru can see how you're cold, hugging your frame as your jaw slightly tenses. "I just don't know if you choose to ignore my attempts because you want to or because you genuinely can't communicate," your energy warms him, he doesn't know how else to describe it as you lean closer and closer. he thinks that if he were still alive, then you'd probably make fun of his faltered composure.

I don't know how, he wants to say, but deep down, if he wanted to try he could. he just didn't have the guts to do it.

a long minute passes, you wait patiently before you sigh, but not in defeat. "but either way, I'll be here. and your nephew will be okay. I don't know if that's the reason why you're here, but..." you trail, eyes fixated on the garden as your brows furrow and unfurrow, "...he's going to be okay." shortly after, you stand up, closing the conversation, and satoru senses he shouldn't be here anymore as you make your way to the bed. taking his cue, he leaves with a fuzzy feeling in his chest, remembering your words that oddly felt like a promise. one he hasn't been made to in forever.

he could learn to trust you.

#gojo #satoru #guilty pleasure #jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo sensei #satoru gojo #gojo x you

[rootbeerworshiper]

Normal (part 5)

pairing: fem!character + matt sturniolo

summery: Abigail and Matt have been best friends for years and practically grew up together. the two hiding their feelings for one another, until one stupid drunken dare changes things.

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of being drunk, swearing as always

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4

love, sienna <3

i don’t remember last night at all.

well that’s not entirely true, i remember my moment with Matt in a literal fucking hot tub, but i have no idea what happened after that.

i woke up at around one on the triplets couch, once again no clue as to how i ended up here. i’m wearing the same t-shirt i had on last night and some random short i guess i left here from one of my many sleepovers.

aside from my pounding headache, i can’t think straight. Matt wanted to kiss me in sophomore year, and he willingly kissed me again last night.

did his feelings ever stop? did mine?

and oh my god he is so incredibly good at sex, something i’ve thought about more than i’d like to admit, but i can’t believe it’s real.

i’ve had so many bad sex experiences, from one guy not knowing what the clit is, to another guy who made really weird noises as he fucked me.

it was all incredibly underwhelming.

but now i know what my best friend is like, and i don’t think i’ll be able to think about anything else.

i’m weirdly giddy about this whole situation, a childish smile forming on my face that makes me feel young again, makes me feel hopeful.

i had given up on Matt a long time ago, with the hope that i’d find someone else, but now that i might not need to, i’m over the moon.

i roll around on the couch, trying to become comfortable again before i inevitably give up and look to my phone.

not much on there other than a few missed messages from nick asking why i was out so long last night, i did not plan on telling him.

it’s true that i tell him everything, but he does not need to know about what i did with his brother last night after he left.

“Abi are you awake?” a familiar voice yells out from the kitchen, god my head really does hurt.

“yeah why?” i reply, now sitting up and adjusting to the light coming from the huge LA windows that peer over the couch i’m residing on.

i stretch my arms, yawning. “Matt wants to know if you want pancakes” i smile.

Matt.

god i’m actually a child this is embarrassing.

“since when do you guys cook?” i groan, rubbing my hands over my face and getting up off the couch.

“since we need to cure the hangover that you and Matt are both suffering with” Chris laughs, earning a groan from Matt.

“can you not fucking yell?” Matt says, sitting down on a stool by the island and rubbing his head. i guess the feeling is mutual.

i sit next to him, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“you guys are pathetic” Nick says, now entering the kitchen.

i rub my eyes once more. “Nick that’s so ironic coming from you considering the incident you had in fucking senior year” his jaw drops and i just laugh.

“don’t you dare hold that against me that was the lowest point of my life” i roll my eyes at this, if it were actually the lowest point of his life i wouldn’t make fun of him, but i know that he’s just being over dramatic.

“you are so dramatic it’s crazy” Matt chimes in, laughing to himself. god he’s cute.

“don’t get me started on how dramatic you were in sophomore year Matthew” the boy next to me literally goes red.

“yeah Matthew you were pretty dramatic in sophomore year huh?” i tease looking at him now as he hides his face slightly.

“alright enough i’m sick of you all” he finishes, laying his head in his arms on the island.

“it’s okay matty” i pat his back. “wait Chris are you adding chocolate chips?”

“oh god i forgot you and Matt are still literal children” he replies, ultimately going to the pantry to grab the chocolate chips i bought for their house.

i slap Matt’s arm slightly as a memory pops into my mind. “oh my god Matt remember when in like 5th grade we came up with our future together and we promised to have pancakes for dinner like almost everyday?” i ask, smiling as i reminisce on our childhood.

he lifts his head, hair still messy and falling over his eyes slightly as he smiles. “i do actually, we were onto something with our pancake addiction”

as much as i love this conversation, it feels wrong to act like nothing happened last night.

especially because to me it was everything.

Chris hands us the pancakes he made for us and him and Nick eventually leave to go get ready for the day in their own rooms.

once again leaving Matt and i alone.

we eat in silence for a moment, both clearly exhausted from the lack of sleep we got.

i look to him and i can tell he’s thinking about something, i know him well enough to know that he has something on his mind. “Matt?”

“yeah?” he says almost instantly, as if he was waiting for me to say something.

i don’t even know what to say, but we can’t just pretend like nothing happened. “um last night was-“

“we were drunk.” he says bluntly.

oh.

“right, we were” i say, defeated.

is that all it was to him? drunk sex with no feeling’s attached?

“it’s probably best if we go back to normal” he says, now leaning back into the chair as he chews on the pancakes we bonded over moments prior.

back to normal?

back to pretending like i’m not in love with my best friend.

right.

“yeah i agree” i pause for a second. “last night shouldn’t have happened, we just drank too much” i lie out of my ass. i hate this. i hate the way he agrees.

i speak again. “well i’m glad that’s settled, i’m gonna go home i think so”

he replies with a quick “okay see you” and that’s it. i leave just like that.

i feel like i’m going insane as i step back into my car.

an hour ago i was giddy over him liking me back and now i’m crying in my car.

god i feel stupid for the way i let him dictate my mood. the hold i let some guy have over me.

except he’s more than some guy, he’s Matt, my Matt.

the Matt that held my hand as we walked into 5th grade together, the Matt i had my first kiss with, the Matt that made me feel like no one else could.

soon enough i make it home and i decide i can’t keep these thoughts in my head, so i go to the one other person i have to turn to.

Nate.

the phone rings for a moment before he picks up “hey what’s up?” he answers, clearly in a good mood.

i sniffle slightly. “are you free to listen to me yap right now?” i joke

he just laughs. “of course i am, listening to you rant is my favourite thing”

i love him so much. Nate and i weren’t as close growing up, but since i moved out to LA we had been face timing weekly talking about everything and nothing.

we could tell each other things that we didn’t necessarily want to tell the triplets and it kept us grounded.

“okay good because i have so much to say” i sigh. “okay i should premise this with a kind of important fact about me”

he just hums, waiting for me to speak again. “i have a thing for Matt”

silence.

“i know your expecting me to be surprised but i’m really not” he laughs

“did Nick tell you?” i ask, immediately concerned.

he gasps. “you told Nick?” i reply with a shy “yes”

“i was just gonna say it was obvious but okay” i can practically here him roll his eyes through the phone. “okay whatever, what’s the thing you need to rant about?”

“last night Matt and i kissed. and i mean we did more then that but i’ll spare you the details.” i spit out.

“i’m gonna pretend like you didn’t tell me that so you can move on” i can tell he’s gonna annoy me about this later but i continue.

“we were both drunk in the hot tub and he confessed that in sophomore year he almost kissed me and he was saying that he wish he had. and if he could do one thing differently it would be to kiss me back then”

“oh shit”

“yeah i know. anyways to cut things short we ended up kissing and what not” Nate gags through the phone. “and i was on top of the moon when i woke up this morning because i thought we would finally become something you know?”

“yeah i’d think that too lowkey” he replies

“well apparently that’s just us because when i had a chance to bring it up with Matt he said that we were just drunk and we should go back to normal”

“what the actual fuck” Nate begins. “you’re telling me that Matt bagged you and then almost immediately fumbled?”

this made me laugh, despite the circumstances Nate could always make me laugh and i’m grateful for it. “basically yes. was i wrong to think he wanted more than drunk sex? i mean it literally started with him saying he liked me a while ago so i assumed he still did or whatever”

“okay gross but i have no idea what’s going on in that kids head because i remember his crush on you in high school and he was literally obsessed with you” i smile at this. fuck.

“he hadn’t spoken about it in a while but considering the way he spoke about you i assumed he still felt like that. which is why it makes no sense that he wants to go back to normal.” Nate finishes, leaving me just as confused as before.

“so i’m not delusional?” i ask

“definitely not, that kids just being an idiot” he jokes “i’m sorry Abi i don’t know why he’s being like this, do you want me to talk to him?”

“definitely not that is the last thing i want, no offense” i preface. “i feel like that would make things worse i don’t know. i just don’t really know what to do, i don’t know if i can go back to hiding myself from him again, although he’s being a dick right now he does deserve better.”

“you’re so mature i wish Matt would take notes” this causes me to smile. “i think you owe it to him and yourself to tell him how to feel, and if he doesn’t reciprocate it then you just continue being friends. it’s not fair to you to have to stay hidden and it’s not fair to him to not know the truth”

i sigh. “Nate i think you’re the mature one here, thank you so much you always make me feel better”

“of course, when are you back in Boston again?” he asks

i totally forgot that was coming up. “um i think the boys are leaving tomorrow but i can’t come until the day after because of a work thing”

he hums. “okay sick i’ve missed you”

“i’ve missed you too i’ll see you soon” i smile.

we say our goodbyes and inevitably hang up.

so now i have a new mindset set in place, i need to tell Matt how i feel. at least soon anyways, which is a terrifying task that i’ve put off for the past 13 years.

fun!

authors note: this isn’t my fav chapter but i needed to add angst💔 also i love nate and abigail omg

taglist: @athaliahxoxo ily

#Spotify #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo edit #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo headcannons #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

[the-words-we-sung]

Discovering Young Royals

So now that I've lurked a bit around the Young Royals fandom I wanna try and be a bit more active ^^ It feels a bit weird to arrive so late because it seems like everything has probably already been said >< So I hope my little thoughts here and there won't just be redundant for fandom people! I've been thinking about it and I think I wanna write my thoughts, and questions and various comments about the show, probably going episode by episode! And I'll add some pretty pictures (I should learn how to make gifs :o)

For tonight though I'll just write up kind of my first thoughts and reactions while watching the show for the first time ^^

ᴥ I'm not proud of admitting it but I started watching the show because I was a bit bored, a bit sick and wanted to kind of "hate-watch" something >< I thought it would be a very elitist kind of show with insufferable royal people! Boy was I wrong...

ᴥ Wilhelm is a cutie pie and made me love the show so much, almost right from the start. His image of angry teenage prince got replaced so fast by just the reality of an anxious (soft) boy, in the span of an episode! His interaction with Simon at the end of episode 1 sealed the deal for me...

ᴥ The show is so so so well made!! It's beautiful and the music is absolutely phenomenal!! All the young actors are incredibly talented (and gosh is Edvin so very good ><) and it's just such a pleasure to watch :o

ᴥ I love love love how "real" it feels!! The actors look the good age for their characters, they look so fucking real, like I 100% believe that these characters are teenagers! I love the choice of not putting lots of make up on them and letting them keep their "real" skin. It's so freaking refreshing!! I don't really know of other shows who do that!! (Also I come from the Glee fandom so: the actors playing teenagers were definitely not looking like teenagers, they all had flawless skins and were ""perfect"" (aka in the beauty standards) looking so having skinny boys and girls with different and real-looking bodies feel so good! Maybe the difference also comes from the fact that Glee was a US show and YR is a Swedish one?)

ᴥ I feel very lucky that I was able to watch season 1 and season 2 back to back! It must have been so hard for you guys to wait for season 2 >< And I'm lucky again that season 3 will probably be there in not too long!

ᴥ August is such a well written character!! A truly interesting "villain" who makes me feel almost some sympathy at times o_o

ᴥ I have very mixed feelings and complicated thoughts about Sara...

ᴥ The chemistry between Edvin and Omar is insane.

ᴥ Yuk Marcus!

ᴥ But all the love for Felice <3

ᴥ And Omar is the prettiest human being ever. I am now officially a fan. (He gives me SO.MUCH gender envy...........)

These were all kind of scattered thoughts going through my head while I binge-watched the show the first time!

(Also it made me want to learn Swedish so I've started doing that on Duolingo and I'm now obsessed with this language xD (But gosh, pronunciation is a nightmare...) So if any Swedish people wanna chat, I need training :p)

Gonna stop there for this freaking long-ass post and keep my rantings and chattiness for another post :D

#young royals #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #omar rudberg #edvin ryding #omar and edvin #personal #just so you guys know #I also love Darren Criss a whole fucking lot #so there will be stuff about him from time to time #apparently I have lots of love for small dark curly haired boys ^^" #my analysis #(mostly my first thoughts #not much analysis happening there :p)