#feels and she wanted him to know. and that's all true like if he never says it back then so be it like she will deal with it and move on

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

#feyd rautha #feyd smut #dune part two #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #dune x reader #dune imagine #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fic #austin butler x reader #dune fanfic #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd-rautha x reader #kihyunsflavor

[frownyalfred]

Okay, but counterpoint to all the angsty Bruce-bleeding-out:

Bruce is relieved. All his life, it's felt like Gotham has called to him, a siren song not even pretending to be pleasant but enthralling all the same. She's had him in a vice grip since that night and he's always known it deep in his heart.

So, when he's laying there curled against a wall, feet away from the spot that claimed his parents' lives, it all makes sense. Gotham's mercy always came with a price. He had thought it was his parents, but that was never true. His parents' debt had been called in that night and his own had begun - Gotham's lucky owed her their souls and she would always collect.

And yet, for Bruce, it doesn't feel like a punishment. He looks up at the raining heavens, the cold water soaking through the suit, and asks her, "Is it finally over?"

She doesn't answer, of course. The sky just rumbles with thunder, not even any lightning.

He knows he's dying. There's already too much blood washed away by the water to recover from. He wants to take off the cowl, suddenly suffocated by the duty she'd placed on him. He's being freed from his task, and he wants to feel the water wash through his hair. She exerts her influence over him one last time to stop him - if his identity gets revealed, the children will be in danger - but grants him the energy to roll onto his back. The cool water will work its way under the cowl enough for him.

"I get to stop now?" He asks.

His body feels more sluggish and the aches he almost forgets he has leave him, no longer compelled forward by her relentless drive. He knows this feeling - death is coming. But for once, it feels ... permanent. Gotham's cold, dark tendrils had been wrapped around his heart and soul for most of his life, laying their claim on him. But tonight, he felt them slip away and this death ... this death feels like the real one. It's not cold or scary, just peacefully empty. He has done his job, fulfilled his role.

Batman dies, spilling out the same blood he was baptized in, born from.

As for Bruce Wayne, well ... he's back home, of course, finally resting.

hi…..first of all how dare you? second of all how dare you. third of all how DARE you—-

#please I’m dying #fic #fic rec #not my fic #micro fic #bruce wayne #batman #dc #asks #batfamily

[yorsgirl]

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, Historical fiction, Angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n, not proofread.

Word Count: 9.7k ( Just when I thought AFW2 was long, I write this... I know its too much but trust me, I needed to. There was just so many things which I couldn't miss out.)

A/N: This is the first request which I worked on, so idk if I did it up to your standard. I sincerely apologize, if this isn't what you wanted. + I hope its similar to what you wanted. Thanks for the wait and request.

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing, you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too. You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare – considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him.You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, your hand stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your Husband's lineage. Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down - no, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To have born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood combined with his, a living proof of your plight - disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed, an heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

.

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse, just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found...

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meetinh his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing. 

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant, he gets to live another day, then he'll just give what he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a- your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to  misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

.

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Taking up the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (Which extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books, Sukuna had bought you)

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present- shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted , walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist - pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words - herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. He knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

.

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally but you were sure, your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home - never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific - that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, an gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him -  covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi, which was till then clasped in your hand firmly, fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he puts any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, clawing at his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you, yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never. 

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. You could see him, rolling his eyes while speaking. "However, the taste of taking a life - isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooden - bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You don't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You're. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line. 

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them, after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "I kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete. 

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

.

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it too. An equal one with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

.

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept thickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #jjk #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna x reader #yandere #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen angst #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk ryomen

[auteurdelabre]

Please, Mister Miller? SERIES FINALE

rating: 18+ GET OUTTA HERE YOUNGIN'S!

words: 13.5k

tags: none. Don't want any spoilers for this chapter!

a/n: Y'all this entire series started with me wanting to try my hand at writing pwp with a despicable lead character. It morphed into a story of finding love in the most unexpected places and the pain that comes with infidelity. It was a challenge for me to do a believable character arc for them, to get you to root for them, to make you feel for them. It was a delight to read your input, your suggestions and to see how invested y'all became. So this is my love letter to you, hopefully a fitting final chapter for these two horny idiots.

love, Emma

ppppsssssstttttt if you wanna be nice and send a broke writer some cash because you like her writing and her stories, the paypal addy is [email protected] because ko-fi is givin me a headache.

The End with Mister Miller

In September the leaves fall in Central Park, brown, lifeless and curled into themselves. You think you recognize that in them. That dead, emptiness, the need to pull into yourself and wither away.

Life doesn’t feel real anymore.

It hasn’t since August.

Without him (you won’t allow yourself to think of his name) life seems slow and hazy. Like walking through the world with a headache. Things blur and ripple and don’t seem particularly real.

School is the only thing that saves you. A chance to focus all your attention on something that isn’t him and his beautiful face, and soft curls and sweet mouth. Something that isn’t his muscled arms holding you as he slides between your legs to bring you pleasure. Something that isn’t his voice in your ear whispering how much he loves you.

You think you will mourn Joel for years. You will wear black and trudge from place to place, looking down in the mouth with red-rimmed eyes and a gaping hole where your heart used to be.

No, don’t even think his name.

School is papers and tests and online discussion groups. You throw yourself into the academic life, your essays are well received, your professors are impressed and your peers find you likeable during zoom classes. You enjoy being the one with the answers in this space because outside of it you have none.

How did it go so wrong? How are you not with him in his arms right now? How can you get Sarah to forgive you when she’s blocked you on everything? How can you survive another month without him? Without holding his hand in yours? Without feeling the rumble of his laugh along your back as he held you?

New York is a good place for the lonely hearts though. It’s a big, unforgiving city that doesn’t give a fuck if you live or die. The city doesn’t care if you struggle to pay your rent and go to school at the same time. The city devours as much as it gives. It’s cold and unforgiving to transient residents, to those looking for anonymity within its concrete jungle. And you relish that. You like that no one knows you, that you can disappear into a crowd, that no one cares.

You deserve that.

You helped break up a marriage. You broke your best friend’s heart. You broke broke broke. You stole what wasn’t yours and you relished in it. You fucked him in every inch of that house and you rejoiced in a love that was never yours to have.

Your apartment is cramped, shared with two other girls who work more hours than they spend inside. You don’t care, you don’t deserve friends. You want the only true friend you ever had to be back in your life.  But that won’t happen.

 Food is bland, the sporadic sunshine days meaningless, your existence a joke.  

And it doesn’t get better for a while. 

///

October is much of the same.

///

By November your savings are quickly being drained. The money from scholarships enough to keep you afloat at school but not enough to pay rent which has just been increased. You get a second overnight job at a convenience store to go along with your part time work at the coffee shop by your apartment. You work late into the night, early into the mornings, you write, you study, you collapse into a fitful sleep and then you repeat. 

You have enough for little luxuries, things like the shampoo you always favored. The one that he once told you smelled like Christmas as he trailed his hands through your tresses, watching you read on his lap with eyes so soft you sighed.

Food still tastes bland so you don’t bother with fancy things.  You keep things cheap so you don’t run out of money. You eat packaged pasta, noodles, soups. You’re bloated, your eyes swollen from the salt and your tears. You still cry.

You don’t know if you ever stopped.

You touch yourself to memories of Joel fleetingly. You rarely orgasm. Arousal seems to be missing from most of your days. As if without Joel all the sensations that once brought you joy have been drained from your body, replaced with a poison that turns everything shades of grey. 

You don’t let yourself think about him. But one day he makes himself known. A simple e-mail sent from an address you don’t recognize. The message is short, simple and devastating.

Before I die I want to hold Snowflake one last time.

You’ve deleted his phone number. Blocked his e-mail address from Miller Construction. But this wasn’t on your radar. You hadn’t thought of the ways he could circumvent your pathetically inadequate system. 

You don’t write back. You can’t. It won’t solve anything. Sarah is still there at his place. You know from stalking her public Instagram from a brand new account. She looks happy, does outfit of the day videos, makes lots of posts about missing Charlie. But the story videos you watch again and again are the ones she films at home. The ones of her sitting with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, a movie in the background. A large masculine hand- Joel’s- reaches for a handful. You read the hashtag. #mydadpickstheworstmovies

You remember those nights. That couch, that television. You remember evenings curled up against Joel laughing into his shoulder at something funny on the screen. You remember giggling with Sarah in that room about secretly dating Charlie.

You’re happy to see her wither her father, to know that things have been mended. There is no awkwardness, no strange energy. It’s like they’ve always been – best buddies. It warms you, it brings tears of joy to your cheeks. It’s what you’d wanted, what you’d dreamed of. It’s not quite like you and Joel never happened, but its close enough.

A story pops up when you’re falling asleep one evening, eyes heavy with fatigue. Sarah is walking in the kitchen, humming about what to make for dinner when the camera catches Joel walking into the kitchen, looking at his camera and giving a soft, subtle smile.

“What are you watchin’ old man?” Sarah croons off-screen, zooming in on his face. “More tile orders?”

Joel glances up from his phone, gaze glossy. He sees the camera and gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“Get that damn camera outta my face,” Joel chides with an embarrassed smile. He flips his phone over and you let out a shocked gasp.

To anyone else it would look innocuous, but you can see in that flash of pixels that he was looking at a photo of you. The one from your date night where you posed in front of the I Love you So Much mural. 

You re-watch that one over and over until it expires.

But you don’t write to him.  You can’t. You know it would take just the sound of his voice to have you jumping a plane and meeting him in some dark hotel. Not just for the fucking, but for the way he felt wrapping his arms around you, how his mouth slotted gently, how he smelled and tasted and felt like safety. 

You never had that before.

You may never again.

Your parents haven’t reached out to you since graduation. You know they never will. Your parents are stubborn – especially your father. They will force you to make it on your own; there will be no financial bail outs or sporadic gifts in the mail. They don’t even know you’ve moved to New York.  No one does. You don’t upload to your socials anymore.

And a year ago that would have terrified you, but now? It buoys you. It makes you feel strong. It makes you feel independent. You’ve done this all on your own and you’re surviving. It’s hard but you’re doing it. You don’t need anyone.

In mid-November during a gloomy day a young man asks you out as you walk to the subway. He’s seen you in the coffee shop you work at and he thinks you’re pretty. He’s cute in a wide-eyed, sweet dimpled smile kind of way. Not the right kind of dimple, though. Not the right eyes, or height or hair. His hands aren’t calloused, his neck not long, his shoulders not broad.

He’s not him.

You turn him down kindly, watching curiously when the smile leaves his face and he calls you a dumb bitch. You just shrug, no longer caring what the opposite sex thinks of you. You don’t care what anyone else thinks of you, only the two people back on Rancher Street.

You walk home from work the following week, feet sore from your back to back shifts. It’s late, the sky drizzling and in your hand you carry the plastic bag from the closest bodega. It holds only a few loose packets of instant noodles.

You’re traipsing down one of the snooty streets as you call them. The ones with high end restaurants and lounges that your parents could easily afford. You gaze down at the approaching puddles, wondering how long it’ll be before the snow arrives. You almost bump into the figure that’s come to a sudden stop in front of you.

You raise your head, about to sneer up at the obvious tourist when a familiar set of light eyes gaze back down at you, an umbrella hoisted gently above her head.

“Tess?”

She looks amazing. Her hair is cut to just below her ears, her skin glowing. She’s dressed similarly to how she was when you knew her – professional, tailored.

You on the other hand have gained weight, your face swollen with tears and sodium, your clothing bland and dark. The drizzling rain has made your hair stick unflattering to your face and you wish you were anywhere else.

“Hello,” she says sharply, her smile a false one.

She’s alone, no one walks with her. She looks like she just left a meeting. Your cheeks burn in humiliation at the memory of your last encounter.

“What are you doing in New York?”

“Marketing symposium,” she answers, her eyes scanning you over obviously.

“Oh.”

You have nothing else to offer. Someone bumps into you as they pass, the sidewalks quickly filling up. It’s New York after work after all, you’re surprised a rat hasn’t skittered over your feet at this point.

“I never pictured Joel as a New York kinda guy,” she offers. “Seemed like a Texas boy through and through.”

Joel.

You haven’t heard his name in so long that the sound of it makes you wince.

“We uh. . . We aren’t… Sarah found out,” you blurt, surprising yourself.

Tess blinks in surprise before she nods slowly, her eyes scanning you as you squirm on the cement. People continue to mill around you, but all you feel is you and her locked in this moment, she shielded by her umbrella and you exposed.

“She took it badly then?”

“Yeah. Really bad.”

You wish she would just walk on by. That she would let you shuffle to your shitty apartment with its cracked walls and peeling paint so you can heat up your instant noodles and fall asleep to the soundtrack of your own sobs.

“It’s what you deserve,” she says tightly. “The pair of you.”

“I know.”

You wait for her to give a polite nod and shoulder by you, but instead she seems to scrutinize your face further. You feel it, even as your eyes drop to her expensive looking shoes.

“Let’s get a drink.”

Your eyes dart from her shoes up to her face, confused to see no guile there. There’s no kindness or softness either. It’s an offer, but not one from a friend.

You shift your plastic bag from one hand to the other awkwardly. You don’t know how to tell this woman that you’re broke. That after this bag of instant noodles you have nothing until your paycheck on Friday.

You don’t want her to know how pathetic your life is. Her light eyes dart from your face to the bag and the items inside. She tips her head towards the lounge across the street.

“I’m paying. Let’s go.”

///

“A Chardonnay for me.”

Tess tilts back in her red leather chair, crossing her long legs over one another after she orders. With her jacket off you can see she’s got a tight dress on and she’s obviously been working out. She’s always been a beautiful woman, but tonight she looks like a bombshell. She and the waiter look at you expectantly as the other patrons buzz around. 

“I’m good with water.”

“She’ll have a Chardonnay as well,” Tess smiles up at the server. “And a plate of gyoza bites.”

The man nods, leaving the two of you to sit across from one another awkwardly. You’re still wearing your jacket, your bag of noodles in a crumple at your feet.

You think you must stick out like a sore thumb in this high-end lounge with its soft jazz music and sleek tables. The place is dimly lit with opulent chandeliers hanging from the high roof, shiny black veined marble floors and collection of upper echelon clientele in suits and well-tailored dresses. You feel so out of place in your jeans and you wonder if that’s why Tess chose it.

You can’t say you’d blame her.

The waiter returns with your wine glasses and appetizer, telling Tess to let him know if she needs anything else. He doesn’t even spare a glance in your direction. Tess takes a sip of wine as you play with the stem of yours.

“Why him?”

Tess’s eyes are fixed sharply on yours when you finally lift your gaze to hers.

“Huh?”

“Why Joel?” Tess repeats and there’s genuine curiosity in her gaze.

You weigh what you want to say, aware that what you admit could hurt her further. But then again what could hurt her more than what you’ve already done?

“Because my boyfriend had just dumped me and I felt like shit,” you say with a croak. “And when I saw Joel… I dunno… He was so beautiful and kind and funny and a good dad. . . and it was this instantaneous thing. And I think in my own insecure way I wanted to prove I was worth something. That I was still desirable.”

You break off, feeling your cheeks heat. Its one things to admit these things to yourself, quite another to admit them to the woman whose husband you seduced.

“You need to know it wasn’t like Joel was trying to get me into bed. It was all me from the start.”

“I don’t think he was fighting too hard,” Tess rolls her eyes in a way that makes you feel small.

“I think it was that he liked feeling desired.”

“I thought he was desirable,” Tess interjects.

“I don’t know that he knew that,” you wince with a shrug. You shift in your seat, feeling her gaze heavily upon you. “He uh… He kinda made it seem like maybe you didn’t really express that to him.”

“Maybe I didn’t,” Tess offers softly as she glances out the window at the darkening street. You take a long sip from your wine before continuing.

“He said you wanted kids at first and then didn’t,” you offer. “Can I ask why?”

Tess moves her eyes from the window back to you. Her jaw clicks as she considers her next words.

“I thought that the whole motherhood thing was for me, I really did,” Tess says, popping another gyoza bite into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “And Joel is the perfect Dad… Really perfect. Like, he loved helping Sarah with homework and taking her to the park and even making her soup when she had the flu.”

You try not to smile in memory of that side to Joel. That sweetly nurturing part. Tess on the other hand looks perplexed, her shaking lightly.

“The longer I was with him, the more I could see that he was just made for parenthood. Made to take care and protect, like it’s in his DNA. He loves to love. And I think I realized I wasn’t like that. I like my job and I didn’t realize how much I like my own independence. And I thought that Sarah and our love was enough, but . . . " Tess sighs. "I don’t know that Joel ever really loved me.”

“Of course he did. I know he did.”

Tess smiles at your emphatic response.

“I wanted to get married, he wanted more kids and we were of a certain age. It wasn't that unending spark and flame, it was the kind of comfortable fire that keeps your feet warm, you know?”

You don’t, but you nod anyway.

“Anyway...” Tess shrugs, trailing off as she spears a gyoza with her fork. She munches thoughtfully before chasing it with another sip of her wine. Yours is still mostly full, sweating in the glass.

“Tess, what did Joel tell you that day? The day at the hotel?”

The day Tess caught you in his lap, writhing and begging for Joel to come in you. The beginning of the end.  Tess looks mollified for a moment and you immediately regret asking her to go back to that ugly memory.

“You don’t have to say-“

Tess leans back in her chair, mouth pursed as she looks into middle distance. You can tell that she’s replaying that moment, that time.

“Honestly we cried a lot, together. Joel never really cries so it surprised me. He apologized over and over for not ending things with me earlier. I think it would have been different if we’d hated one another, easier maybe,” Tess takes a deep steadying breath, looking not at your face but your ear.

“Then he told me that he was in love with you, never felt that way before, blah blah blah. I told him it was a midlife crisis, he told me it wasn’t. It went back and forth like that a few times. I was convinced it was the sex. That he was just wanting someone shiny and new. But. . . that’s never been Joel’s M.O. He’s never been that guy. I still don’t think he’s that guy, despite everything.” 

Tess shifts, taking a sip of her wine. This entire experience is surreal. From the way you’re talking to one another to the way you sit like old friends at the narrow table. She waves off the server who attempts to take the now empty dishes away.

“Then he told me the same things you did. That it would break Sarah’s heart if she found out that way. Then he told me he would give me whatever I wanted. The house. His truck. His shares in Miller Construction. Anything if it meant I wouldn’t say anything to Sarah.”

Your brows rise, you had no idea about that.

“I said that I would let him keep it all. The house, the shares, everything, and that I would never tell Sarah if he did just one thing for me.” Tess gives a weak smile. “If he just broke it off with you right then and there.”

You stomach sinks, your skin going clammy as if you’re right back there in that hotel room bathroom, cringing as you pray Tess doesn’t realize it’s you who’s just come on her husband’s lap.   

Why did Joel never tell you this?

“He said he couldn’t do it,” Tess says softly, and she shifts back in her chair, legs crossing the other way. She has an almost amused look on her beautiful face, as if she still doesn’t believe it months later.

“He said he’d give me anything else, but that. That he couldn’t give you up. That he was so in love with you that he would give me anything I wanted, except for that.”

You close your eyes, needing to ground yourself for a moment.  This is all new information, private information that was never meant for your ears. But it makes the ache for Joel grow stronger, the desire to see him, to hold him, just one more time.

Tears begin at your waterline and you force them back. You finally crack your eyes open and see Tess staring back at you.

 “You didn’t take any of those things.”

“No,” Tess shakes her head, looking into her now emptied wine glass. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

Tess gives a sigh, stretching her back as she shrugs.

“I have money; I have rental property in Illinois. I didn’t need his stuff. And it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the one thing I wanted he couldn’t give me.”

You’re quiet, waiting. The waiter comes over with the bill, discreetly slipping it onto the table and walking on.

“I wanted him devastated," Tess continues. "I wanted him to wake up every day cursing that he ever cheated on me, sobbing, tearing his hair out, regretting every moment,” Tess says with an almost sinister curl of her lips.

“But that could never happen because he had you. I knew that if he had you there was no chance of him ever being anything other than content.”

You swallow the tears that burn your eyes. “Why didn’t you tell Sarah then?”

For the first time since you’ve sat down Tess looks hurt, almost wounded.

“Because I know how she idolized her father. I couldn’t be the person to knock him off that pedestal for her. It would make me cruel and one thing you were right about is that I’m not a cruel person.” 

But you are.

You’re cruel.

You knocked her father from that pedestal without care. You took and took and while you have hints you don’t even know how their relationship is faring. Has Sarah truly forgiven him?

“Well at the end of the day you were dealt the best hand,” you muse, taking your wine glass and motioning towards her. “You’re beautiful, you have money, you’re-“

“-Consistently worried that any man I date will cheat on me,” Tess finishes for you. “You know how many second dates I’ve turned down because I’m sure that I’m terrified of being hurt again?”

And there it is; the realization that even after this apology, even after this talk, the damage you have caused with your actions will never truly go away. They will linger like a scar on flesh – faded but a forever reminder.  This breaks your heart and you push the tears from your eyes before they can fall.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how sorry I am, Tess. You never deserved anything like it. I wish … I wish you could punish me somehow,” you say, swallowing thickly. “Like punch me or. . . Something. I deserve it.”

“I think you’re being punished worse than anything I could ever dream up.”  Tess signs the receipt, her signature narrow and cramped. “Being apart from the person you love? That's a different kind of pain.”

This is the first time that Tess has really recognized that you and Joel love each other. That it isn’t a fucking and forgetting kind of relationship. That you love him as much as he loves you and that this is a devastation you can’t seem to move on from. This is what makes the tears slip down your nose, head lowered.

You see Tess push a napkin across the table to you. You take it gratefully, dabbing at your eyes and under your nose.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you ask through sniffles. “I ruined your marriage. I was… I was horrible.”

“Yes, you were,” Tess nods, taking a long sip of her wine. “And I’ll never forgive you for it. What you did was completely fucked up and selfish. You helped to break up my marriage.”

You want to curl into your shell. You want to run and hide from her scorn and her judgement. But something keeps you there, almost like you want to be punished. You want her to lay into you with her sharp eyes and sharper words.

“But Joel was right in a lot of ways that night," Tess says lightly. "Our marriage didn’t work like we wanted. And while it will never make what you did okay, it does allow me a chance to go out and find someone who actually wants me, who wants the same things as me.”

“Joel wanted you,” you tell her even though it hurts.

“Not enough,” Tess says with her mouth a grim line. “Not as much as he wanted you.”

You don’t say anything to that; you just trace the stem of your wineglass slowly.

“You know, I thought this would be more satisfying,” Tess observes after a beat. “Seeing you broken, knowing that Joel is probably ten times worse. But it’s not. I just feel sad for you. You’re so young and you’ve gotten into such a mess.”

You watch her place her wallet back into her purse.

“And for what?” she scoffs. “A guy you can’t even sleep with anymore.”

“He was more than that to me,” you explain, finger twisting. “I… I’ve just never loved someone before. Not like that. Never felt love like that. Never felt seen by anyone before Joel, not since Heather.”

“Heather?”

You think about telling Tess about your sister. Explaining that aside from Heather love always came with strings back in your house. But you think it would be a disservice to this entire exchange. That she would think you were sourcing pity.

“It doesn’t matter. I just . . .  I just don’t think I’ll ever find love like that again.”

Tess sighs, sucking her teeth lightly.

“Maybe you should be with Joel, maybe you shouldn’t. Back at the hotel I thought it was insane but now? Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Doesn’t really matter does it?” you exhale with a soft laugh to cover the pain. “It’s over.”

“Because of Sarah.”

“Yeah.”

“So talk to Sarah.”

Tess stands next to the table now, purse over her shoulder. You glance up at her, brows furrowed.

“I can’t. She’s got me blocked on everything.”

You’re confused to see Tess smirking down at you.

“Back in my day if we wanted to contact someone we sent a letter.”

///

Dear Sarah,

I don’t even know how to start this. I mean, even as I’m sitting here I’m thinking of all the reasons why I don’t deserve you to give me the time of day. If you’d done the same with my father and helped to contribute to the end of a marriage I’d think the worst of you too.

I saw someone today who encouraged me to write to you. To let you know my side of things. I know that it doesn’t make what happened okay, I just need you to know what I was thinking.

I know you probably think that your dad and I were trying to keep this secret from you because we were ashamed of it. The truth is yes, there is a part of me that is deeply ashamed that I pursued your married father. The selfishness of that action is not lost on me. I will be paying that price the rest of my life. 

I know there is shame for Joel that I'm your college-aged best friend. I know he worries that you'll think less of him (please don't). I know he's ashamed that he didn't end his marriage sooner. 

But I think we are most ashamed of not telling you sooner. We were really scared at how you would react. We even promised each other that when you got back we were gonna have you over for dinner and explain everything. You just caught us off guard coming home early (not blaming you! It's your house!) I just needed you to know that it was our every intent to tell you everything. 

And I think I thought that if we told you together, that if you saw how much we loved each other that you'd give us your blessing or something. I think I deluded myself into thinking I could have it all: you as my best friend and your dad as my soulmate. Now I have neither. 

And I know you might be reading soulmate and rolling your eyes because you and I have never believed in bullshit like that. But Sarah, he is my soulmate, whatever that means. It's like we come alive together, life is even better than normal. Things I hated with Conrad make me so happy with Joel. 

I share everything with him, stuff I've never told anyone in the world. Stuff I thought made me worthless. But your dad never saw me like that. It's like he sees me as what I always dreamed I could be. 

Your dad gave me love that I've never known was possible. The kind of unconditional love that I look back upon with nothing but extreme gratitude. I regret that he was married; I regret that he is your father but I don't regret loving him. Loving Joel Miller was the most wonderful thing I've ever experience; it’s like being warmed by the sun. 

I know this is hard to accept. From the outside it looks really bad. I know. And yes we did a lot wrong in getting together. We'll have to pay for that the rest of our lives. 

We never meant to fall in love, Sarah. We really didn't. And I won't go on about how wonderful and special your dad is because I know you probably don't wanna hear it. I'm just asking that you try to remember our friendship. Was I ever the type of friend to mess around with some married guy for fun? Was I ever the type to purposefully hurt you? Ever? 

Hurting you is the number one thing we never wanted to do. You know how much your dad loves you. You're his entire world. And you see in his actions that you are the most important woman in his life and always will be. 

You are also the only true friend I've ever had in my entire life. I know I fucked things up and I know that I betrayed your trust. I don't know how to show you how sorry I am other than cutting all ties with your father (which I have) and giving you space.  

But I miss you Sarah. I miss the way we laughed together, the way we could depend on one another. I miss your loving friendship as well. I hope one day you and I can talk. I hope one day maybe you'll be comfortable with me seeing your father. But if that day never comes I need you to know how much I love you both.

If you’ve read this far thank you.  I love you and I miss you.

You sign your name, wiping away the tears that fell without you realizing. They smudge the ink on your words, blurring some. 

There was so much more you wanted to put in that letter. How staying away from Joel is breaking your heart being the main thing. How every day without Joel has been torture. 

You slide the letter into an envelope, addressing and stamping it before rushing out in the bitter cold to post it. You come back into the apartment, feeling strangely light.

For the first time in months you fall asleep without crying.

///

Its weeks later before you hear back from her. A short message on your Instagram from the account she previously had you blocked on.

[SMILLER44] Read your letter. 

Thank you. Do you want to talk about it?

She doesn’t answer. You can see she’s read your last message but she makes no attempt to respond.

You don’t push it. You just let it happen. She doesn’t have to come around on your schedule. You don’t know that she ever will. But she’s read your letter, you have that form of closure and maybe that’s enough.

You’re studying for finals the following week when a message comes through at two am.

[SMILLER44] Chsalrie is fgoan and iw miss himsso mhc!!

Sarah very rarely drinks to the point of drunkenness. In habit you respond the way you always have when she imbibes.

Make sure you drink some water.

[SMILLER44] Mnoegyt mom! Iknw@!

You don’t know what to say to that.

She attaches a photo of Charlie from what looks like a recent zoom call. He’s frowning, looking into the camera with a sorrowful expression. It’s clear that their time apart has been really hard for both of them and your heart aches.

I bet you miss him lots.

[SMILLER44] Yeh it hurttsd sobad

I know that feeling.

But it’s only a few more months right? Then he’s moving back to Austin?

Sarah doesn’t reply to you that night. Either she’s fallen asleep in a drunken stupor or she’s remembered that you’re not friends anymore. Either way you don’t hear back from her for the rest of the night.

The following afternoon you look down to see you have another notification from her.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! Feeling okay? [SMILLER44] Hungover. Headache. I bet. [SMILLER44] Sorry about the messages.

I didn’t mind at all. Brought back good memories.

Nothing else comes through that day, but your spirit is lighter. Even at the shitty convenience store job you find yourself stocking items and scanning lottery tickets with a smile on your face for what feels like the first time in ages.

For the rest of that week you get intermittent messages from her at all times of the day and night.

[SMILLER44] Where are you living? Address on the envelope said New York? Yeah. That’s me. [SMILLER44] WTF?? Since when did you wanna live in New York? Seemed like a good place to disappear for a bit. [SMILLER44] I guess. You see Pizza Rat yet? Not yet. His cousin tho for sure. [SMILLER44] You have roommates? Yeah two this time. And they suck. One smokes so much weed I think I have a contact high most days. The other one doesn’t clean up after herself. [SMILLER44] Ew And that one always leaves hair in the shower.

You remember that was always Sarah’s complaint during your time together at school. The girls who would leave hair on the dorm shower walls. Or the ones who would leave soap all over the sinks.

[SMILLER44] 🤮

///

A few days later another message comes through.

[SMILLER44] I still can't believe we're graduated Me either. How's the job? [SMILLER44] Management really sux, but I’m learning a lot. How about u? How's Masters? Good actually. I really love it. The apartment sucks tho. 

You attach a photo of the tiny apartment with yourself in the bottom corner frowning dramatically. 

[SMILLER44] Oh fuck that’s a shithole. Yeah.

///

You always let Sarah be the one to initiate every conversation, even if you’re dying to talk with her about your day. You don’t want to alter this delicate ecosystem of messages. And soon it becomes a daily occurrence.

Some days it a meme and an emoji. Other days it’s her in front of the mirror in a new shirt going “Yes or no?” (something that takes you right back to your college days together). Other days it’s like nothing between you has changed.

[SMILLER44] Charlie is impossible to shop for. Christmas is like two weeks ago and I got him cologne& socks. Oh. [SMILLER44] Shitty right? No. [SMILLER44] Be honest It’s not great. I have an idea! Tet him a painting from a photo of the two of you on your trip this summer? [SMILLER44] I like that idea. He loves sentimental shit like that. And you don’t? 🤨 [SMILLER44] Not like him. he wanted to get me a locket with his picture in it Yikes. [SMILLER44] Right????

Having messages from Sarah becomes the light in your increasingly dark days. You’re working, you’re studying, you’re exhausted. But every time you see that notification it makes you feel like you’re back with her giggling in the library, drinking coffee on campus, studying together. And through it all you never mention Joel once.

[SMILLER44] Remember when Conrad got drunk and bought pizza for the entire dorm?  Lol I forgot about that!  [SMILLER44] Did I tell you he tried to reach out to me? Who? Conrad? [SMILLER44] Yeah. WTF? WHEN? [SMILLER44] A couple weeks back. He saw that me and Charlie weren’t living together. Thought we broke up. Wanted to know how I was doing. Are you fucking serious? [SMILLER44] Yup. Told him I was okay. [SMILLER44] Turns out he’s with some girl in Switzerland.

Of course Conrad would rebound with someone his family would be so proud of. A blonde, willowy thing that doesn’t talk back or give him grief when he does shitty things. Who laughs when he treats the wait staff like shit or doesn’t mind when he parties late with his friends.

Of course he is. She’s probably a model with access to her daddy’s oil money. [SMILLER44] Looks like it.  U ever miss him? Conrad? Fuck no. [SMILLER44] U seeing anyone?

This is the first time in your exchange that things have tiptoed on the idea of you and romance. Her question makes you want to laugh. How could you be seeing anyone? Your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

For the first time since everything happened you are angry at Sarah. Furious that for some reason you had to get her approval to love her father. You want to say you know that I’m not! You know why! But instead you swallow and type out a short reply.

Nah. Not ready.

She doesn’t reply.

///

December in New York is rather beautiful. The people even seem a little nicer – sliding coins into the tip jar at the coffee shop. The snow that falls over the buildings takes away the sharpness of the architecture, makes it seem more magical.

But nothing compares to Austin with its warm days and sleepy charm. Nowhere could ever compare, not when Joel doesn’t exist in it.

To you, New York is the most beautiful in the winter. You take this time to enjoy what the city has to offer. You go to museums and you eat shitty street food and you actually go the Statue of Liberty even though it’s a fucking cliché. 

You feel you might be slowly coming back to yourself. The air fills your lungs and you walk down the street back to your apartment most days with a strange sense of hope. Like perhaps there is a life ahead of you again.

Like maybe you could be happy.

[SMILLER44] Hey Hi! How are you? [SMILLER44] Bored. [SMILLER44] Dad is making gingerbread cookies. Pretty sure he's burning them. 

You feel your heart hammer at the mere mention of Joel in passing. You’ve been very careful to avoid that topic, to skirt around anything that could be considered prying. But here she is dropping it into your lap.

[SMILLER44] Now he's complaining that the icing he made is too lumpy. 

Your heart skips a further beat when she attaches a photo.

His hands are held over a mixing bowl, mid motion. He's wearing his soft green t-shirt, one of your favorites. You can see the messy kitchen in the background and it makes you smile so wide your cheeks hurt. 

You wish she'd included his face if only so you could have something new to replace the scant images of Joel you have saved on your phone. The ones you can’t bring yourself to erase.

Nice to see some things never change. 

You hesitate before deleting it. 

I really miss both of--

No. Erase. 

In the end you don't reply. You can't. It hurts too much.

///

It’s Christmas in a few days and you have the week and a half off from your coffee shop gig and thanks to a Christmas bonus from your very kind manager who comments on your amazing work ethic. You think of spending it on a dinner out for yourself or perhaps a better pair of work shoes.

 School is finished for the semester and you think of the days ahead as you walk home from the local bodega eating the last of your chopped cheese. Snow falls lazily around you, flakes sticking to your cheeks as you stroll.  

Everywhere you look Christmas is in the air. Cheerful Santa's wave from department store windows. Ice skating is going on outside Rockefeller plaza, the insane light display at Dyker Heights, the couples snuggled together on horse drawn carriages in Central Park.

You cherish when Sarah sends you messages, but as the date creeps closer to Christmas there is a pang of longing you can’t overlook. This time last year you were entering into something with Joel that would change you. You were in his arms, you were falling for him. Now you're in a shitty apartment in New York trying to focus on studies and paying rent. 

It's possible that Sarah has forgiven you, but she's made no attempt to bring you and Joel back together. The truth is that she may never. 

You might get your friend back in some small capacity, but you likely are never going to feel Joel's strong arms holding you again. Never again going to sigh against his soft mouth as he enters you. Never going to hear those words murmured into your hair: I love you my perfect snowflake.

Paper snowflakes hang from a neon-sign laden window you're currently passing, causing you to still. You read the shop name, your mind on the extra money in your bank account. 

You step inside. 

///

Your phone beeps in your pocket. Sarah has moved to sending you texts now. You sent her a digital gift card for Christmas that morning to some clothing place in Austin and you assume she’s writing to thank you.

[SMILLER44] My dad is miserable. He just keeps moping around the house. 

Out of nowhere an anger begins to boil within you. You want to scream at Sarah that she’s the reason you’re both moping. That she’s the reason you can’t just be happy!

[SMILLER44] He's been like that since the summer.  [SMILLER44] I feel like it’s all my fault.

And just like that your anger for Sarah is quickly replaced with guilt that you could have ever been furious with her in the first place. She’s obviously been the one dealing with the fallout of a father and best friend who are miserable without each other.

Not your fault. You were totally valid in being hurt and furious. What we did was fucking shitty. I meant everything I said in my letter. I wish I had been up front from the start.

[SMILLER44] I think you made him really happy.  I think we made each other really happy.  I love him, Sarah. I’m sorry because I know that must be weird but I’m in love with him, I’ve never stopped. And I’ve never loved any man the way I love Joel. And I don’t think I ever will.

She doesn’t reply right away and you’re concerned that you’ve hurt her or scared her off in some way. You’re in bed, teeth brushed as the scent of your roommates weed filters in under your door when another beep sounds on your phone late that evening. You open the window to air it out, the night crisp before glancing at your phone.

[SMILLER44] It's gonna take a long time for me to really trust you again.  I want to earn that trust back if you'll let me. 

///

Joel Miller has never considered himself to be a good man. Never thought of himself as a bad one either, but in these last few months as he carves in the garage he’s been considering what it is to be good and bad.

Bad men keep secrets from the people they love. Bad men cheat on their wives. Bad men fuck the mouth of a girl half their age, aroused at the thought of being caught. Bad men stay married even as they call up said girl and make her come over the phone. Joel has been such a bad man in so many ways.

But he’s been a good man too. He’s never held your absence against his daughter. Never made her feel as if she isn’t his priority or that she was wrong to feel how she did. Sarah had no mother, Joel was damned if she'd live the rest of her life without a father as well. 

He’s a good man because despite that one mess up he’s given you space and not tried to contact you. He’s a bad man because he still watches that video the two of you made and it still make him come so hard he can only do it when Sarah is out of the house.

But he’s good because the love that he carries for you is beyond carnal and it makes him want to be a better man. Makes him want to be brave like you’re being, cutting those ties from your family. Makes him want to be patient like you and give you space. Makes him reach out to Tess at the end of November and apologize in earnest.

He’s confused by the cryptic little smile on her face over the Zoom call, but he says nothing about it. Just repeats over and over how wrong he was to disrespect their marriage like he did. That he was sorry he ever treated her with such lack of concern. He answers her questions with unflinching honesty, his knuckles turning white as he holds his coffee mug next to him on the desk.

“I’ll never forgive you for what you did, Joel. But I appreciate the apology.”

It’s enough. It’s more than he deserves.

At the end of the day Joel decides he’s just a man. A man who is in love with a woman he can’t have.  He doesn’t let himself look at your photo anymore – the one of you in front of the mural. He doesn’t let himself go on your social media.

He just goes to work early, works overtime and works harder than ever. He comes home and he makes dinner and he listens to his daughter talk about her day and he is content. He loves hearing Sarah talk about the challenges of the job, of seeing her grow into a capable young woman with her mom’s brains and a bit of his looks.

It was a few weeks of strained hello’s when you first left. When he walked back up into the house as your taxi pulled out, looking haunted as Sarah trailed in behind him. Of silent breakfasts and separate dinners. Until Joel bit the bullet and made her favorite dinner, until he insisted she come and watch a movie with him one night until things just started feeling normal again.

Sarah never brought you up. Ever. Not until this last week where her eyes have stayed on his face, sympathy and something else behind them.

"You miss her lots huh?"

"Sarah I don't wanna talk about her," Joel says gently. "You know that." 

Sarah gives him a strange little smile over dinner one night from his favorite BBQ place with the best cornbread this side of Texas. The day is calm and quiet and the house is decorated for the holidays.

“You called her since she left?”

Joel wants to tell Sarah to not ask about you. To never bring you up again. But his daughter deserves answers the most out of anyone. He lowers his fork, still chewing.

“No. She thought it was a bad idea.”

“Hmmm.”

“Sent her an e-mail a few months back. She never replied,” Joel says and he hates the pinch in his voice as he says it. He covers it up with a swig of his beer.

“Probably didn’t want to upset me,” Sarah rationalizes, fork poking at her pulled pork.

“Or she’s moved on,” Joel admits

He’d never say it out loud, but this is his biggest fear of all. That you have indeed found a new boyfriend. One closer to you in age with no baggage and endless love for you. The kind of man who fucks you tenderly, eyes on your face and whispers that he wants to marry you. The kind of man who would support you in school and the man that you’ll eventually carry children for.

The kind of man Joel would want for you if the thought didn’t make him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

///

“I hate this fuckin’ movie,” Joel grumbles as he and Sarah sit side by side on the couch. White Christmas is playing on the television and Joel has had just about enough. A bowl of half-eaten popcorn sits between them.

“It’s Christmas eve,” Sarah says with a cheerful laugh. “It’s tradition.”

Fuck tradition.

Fuck Christmas.

Fuck everything.

Snow and shortbread and every fucking thing that reminds him of you. Of your time with him last year. Your mouth, your body, your whispers in his ear. He sure as fuck doesn’t feel like celebrating.

“S’a dumb tradition.”

“Started because of you, old man.”

“Only because you were a kid and you would scream if I tried to watch anything else.”

“Yeah well you only have yourself to blame then.”

Joel gives her a sharp chuckle of amusement before swiping a handful of popcorn, munching softly. Despite you not being here, he’s so thankful his relationship with Sarah is good. He loves his daughter more than he could ever explain.  

Sarah checks her phone for what feels like the millionth time before relaxing back and watching the “Love, you didn’t do right by me” scene playing on the screen. The sultry intro begins as Sarah hums along.

Love, you didn't do right by me You planned a romance that just hadn't a chance And I'm through

Joel tries to hide his sigh.

What are you doing right now? Where are you? Are you safe? Enjoying Christmas? Did you go back to your parents after everything? Are they being kind to you?  These questions have plagued him since the day you left.

The doorbell rings, startling Joel from his thoughts. He glances over at Sarah, brows raised.

"You expectin' Charlie?”

"Naw, his flight just got in actually. But I think your gift is here," Sarah says with a gentle smile. "I'll need your help bringin’ it in though." 

Joel gives a sound of protestation, rising from the couch with a pop in his back before padding towards the front door after his daughter.

“What kinda gift comes on Christmas Eve?” He teases her, kissing the top of her head as she stands at the door. “And has to be brought in by two people?”

“See for yourself.”

Joel rolls his eyes playfully at her giggling face. His hand goes around the handle, pulling the door inwards and peeking around the corner. The teasing sweetness in his face is immediately washed away and he can only stare.

"Hi Joel," you say shyly on the porch, hand clutching your suitcase tightly. 

You’re dressed in a long skirt, tank top and light jean jacket. Your hair is done beautifully and your lips glossy. You look a little tired from your journey, but your eyes are bright as you gaze at him, your smile so wide your cheeks are pink.

You’re fucking perfect.

A moment passes between you and Sarah hides a smirk.

"I'm heading to pick up Charlie from the airport," Sarah tells you both as she pulls on her jacket. "We’re gonna stay at the hotel by the airport tonight. I'll be back for breakfast and presents tomorrow. I’m borrowing the truck, alright?"

Joel hasn’t stopped staring at you. He just gives a shallow nod to Sarah watching the way you give her a hopeful look as she walks out the door. His heart squeezes when you both reach for one another, hugging tightly. 

"I missed you," you whisper against her shoulder. 

"Same here," she whispers back before pulling away and smiling at you. "Glad you could make it. Hope you'll stay for a while."

"If your dad'll have me," you say shooting a nervous look Joel's way. 

"I wouldn't worry about that," Sarah says with a crooked smirk.

And then with a wave she's off, striding down the driveway with you watching after her. When she and the truck disappear around a corner you turn back to face Joel, looking strangely nervous.

"Hi," Joel finally croaks, still stuck in the doorway in a daze. "I-I can’t believe you're here. How’re you here?"

"Sarah called me. Said she wanted me to be your Christmas gift. I had air miles." 

"Best damn gift I've ever received," Joel says.

As if only now realizing that you are both exposed on the porch Joel urges you inside, taking your suitcase. He stops at the couch, suddenly not realizing where he should put you. He leaves it there by the couch, urging you to join him with a tilt of his head.

“You want a drink?”

“Nah, I’m okay thanks.”

He stands awkwardly for a moment, wanting to grab you, to kiss you, to touch you everywhere but he’s not sure if he should, if that's what you want. Instead he sits on the couch, his knee brushing yours. You both tense at the sensation, as if it's wrong to feel even the hint of one another. 

“So where you been all this time?”

“New York.”

“No shit? Why New York?”

“A good place to be anonymous.”

His eyes move to become fixed on your bare knee under your skirt, desperate to touch the warm flesh if only to prove to himself that you actually are real, that you're here. 

As if you're thinking the same you let a trembling hand go to his forehead, pushing back the curls there.

“Your hair is longer,” you murmur, smiling when Joel’s eyelids flutter shut and he leans into your touch. “I like it.”

“Thank you, baby."

Baby.

Now he takes his time staring back at you. Taking in the circles under your eyes, the soft curve of your cheek, the sensual pillow of your mouth. You're just as beautiful as he remembered, but even moreso because you're real. 

The tension is there, not just because of this surprise but because there is so much you want to say to one another. But neither wants to break this beautiful moment of reconciliation so instead Joel takes your hand in his and brings you to stand.

“Want some shortbread?”

“Sure.”

You follow him into the kitchen, marveling out loud how beautifully decorated the place is. Even more than when you were here last year. You take a moment to enjoy the sight of Joel’s biceps curling under his soft t-shirt as he brings out the plate from the fridge.

“No snowflakes though,” you tease as you take the cookie he offers you. You remember last year they were all over the garland and even in the windows. Now it seems they’ve been purposefully omitted.

“Ah, well, those are in the garage,” Joel says looking strangely shy. You’re curious at this, taking a nibble from the cookie. You don’t have to heart to tell him it’s awful. But he’s smiling dreamily at you and you find yourself sighing and smiling back.

“Show me?”

He nods, taking your hand in his even though you’re only going twenty steps. He takes you into the garage and you look around, expecting to see paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Instead it looks deceptively normal.

Joel urges you towards the workbench where he pulls out a large box from underneath. He lays it on the table and takes off the top, his eyes sailing over to you as you peek inside.

Carvings, dozens and dozens of them. And all of them snowflakes.

Some are as small as your thumb, others as large as Joel's palm. Some are painted, others are wood grain. Some are intricately designed and must have taken weeks, others are smooth and buffed.

"Every time I was missing you too much I'd come out here and carve."

"Looks like you missed me a lot."

"I did."

There’s no hesitation from him and you gaze up at him with limpid eyes.

“You uh… I sent you that e-mail a couple months back,” Joel starts and you can see the insecurity in his dropped gaze. “You never wrote back.”

You raise a hand to his cheek, urging him to look back to your face.

“I couldn’t,” you explain with a tremor in your voice. “I wanted to so badly. But I had to respect Sarah’s wishes no matter how bad it hurt.”

Joel nods, knowing that your answer makes sense.

“I think I was worried that maybe you’d moved on,” Joel says with a wince.

You give him a sad smile before your hand drops from his face. You lift up the hem of your shirt, tugging your skirt down until your hip is showcased. Joel feels his heart pick up speed when he sees the tattoo there covered in second skin. A tiny black and white snowflake. The exact one Joel carved for you a year ago. 

"Got it when missing you hurt too much," you confess. “Still healing.”

Before he can stop himself he's knelt on the ground of the garage. He holds your hips gently, his full mouth going to press against your decorated flesh.  

"S' beautiful baby," Joel murmurs.

He feels goosebumps rise under his touch, and the sensation of your hand carding through his hair.

“How could you ever think I’d move on?” you ask, your voice soft. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Joel.”

Joel is still there at your feet as if kneeling before you is the most natural pose for him. Because with you he is reverential. His eyes search yours as he stares up at you, his dark eyes soulful.

“You’re so young and beautiful and wonderful and-“

“And you’re so handsome and kind and loving,” you finish for him.  “And I don't want anyone else.”

He gives a ghost of a smile up at you before he kisses your hip again, tenderly, lovingly and through the clear bandage you feel the warmth of his mouth. 

"Joel," you whisper above him.

He glances back up, seeing your eyes glossy and full of yearning. You don't have to say anything more. 

He slowly slides his hand under your skirt, fingertips tracing the curve of your inner thigh, edging your panties. You say nothing, just breathing heavily as you stare down at him while he drags your panties down your calves, over your ankles. You step out of them, watching him place them in the pocket of his sweatpants.

He lifts your skirt, holding it in his hands at the side of your hips. Your pussy is exposed to him and he groans at the sight of it there in front of him. He presses a sloppy kiss to your mound, shivering when you whimper. 

His fingers curl in the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down. He gazes at your sex as it is uncovered, groaning softly at the sight of it wet and waiting for him. The skirt is soon discarded and your lower back is urged against the work table.

His intent is clear as he gently urges your thigh over one of his shoulders. You breathe heavily staring down at him, his dark eyes fixed up at you as his mouth comes to press against your mound. 

"Please," he murmurs between kisses. "Just let m-"

He trails off as he kisses and licks between your legs, eyes rolling back when he hears your shuddered moan above him. You lean your spine heavily back against the work bench, one foot on the ground, the other leg hinged over Joel's shoulder. 

"Joel," you breathe softly if only to hear yourself saying that beautiful name again. The name you avoided thinking of for so long.

His large palms hold you in place, fingers dimpling the flesh as your moans increase. Joel feels tears starting at his eyes as he holds you, the warmth of your skin underneath his hands once more. His perfect fucking woman is here, and she's gonna come on his tongue. 

You came back to him. You came back. 

He slips two fingers into your dripping slot, curling gently so that he can take a moment to admire you. The way your fingers dig into the edge of the workbench. And now this sweet little snowflake, this forever mark dancing on your skin as your body moves for him. 

Overcome, his mouth goes back to your cunt, fingers still working in tandem as he begins to suck you clit in earnest. 

Your head is tilted back as your orgasm approaches. His eyes drift up to you even as his fingers and mouth work between your thighs. As if you can feel his gaze your neck bends forward, your eyes dropping to watch Joel between your legs gazing up at you. 

Your big, strong man is on his knees, laving your clit with his sinful touch while his big, dark puppy -dog eyes stare up at you with reverence. The sight of it has you whimpering, watching as his eyes darken, the black edging out the dark brown of his iris. 

"Uh huh," Joel growls against your pussy, sucking your clit with the perfect pressure as your thighs quake. "You come for me, pretty girl."

And you want to. You want nothing more than for Joel to fuck you with his tongue all night. But you find you need him deeper, need him closer. You need him with his body pressed against yours. 

"Take me to bed," you beg breathlessly.

Joel rises, wasting no time before his mouth is on yours. You melt into his arms, immediately slotting your lower between his. 

"I missed you so much," you whisper.

"I missed you more."

Joel can't contain himself. He's taken you into his arms, shifting you into a bridal carry. He takes you to the bedroom, laying you on the bed with a tenderness you can’t help but almost weep in the face of.

He undresses you slowly, kissing every piece of flesh he uncovers. Then he removes his own clothing, letting the items fall to the ground before you're in bed underneath his covers. 

"I missed you so fucking much," he tells you, peppering your face with kisses as he pulls you against him.  

"I thought about you every day," you say with tears in your eyes. 

For a moment the two of you slow the momentum down, kissing languidly as you card your hands through his hair and he holds your face between his palms. It feels like the most exquisite reunion of bodies and minds all at once and it warms you in way the sun never could.

Eventually his hands drift to your waist, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his hardness seeks your center. The two of you grind together, groaning and moaning into each other’s mouths before Joel pulls back to look at you.

"You want this?"

"You really have to ask?"

With a grin he urges your knees against your chest, opening you to him. In that folded position when he brackets you on either side he feels like he's holding all of you in his arms, like he's protecting you.

And he knows that when he slides into you in this position that the feeling is as incredible for you as it is for him because your eyes roll back and you whimper. 

"Tell me how it feels, baby," Joel groans, slowly drawing himself out and sliding back deeply, his ass and hips flexing. 

"So good," you murmur. "So full."

You inhale deeply, your mouth against his shoulder as the smell of his soap and wood shavings wash over you. The scent of safety and of home. Of love.

He kisses your neck, soft sloppy things as he sinks into you with a groan over and over, your eyes gazing down to watch his slick cock entering into you over and over, so slow and so deep it feels like you’re fucking for the first time in your life. You make a small whimpering sound, hips rolling against Joel’s and you feel him smile into your hairline.    

"There's my girl."

The sound of it, his girl, makes the tears sneak out the corner of your eyes. When you feel the light tap of wet on your cheeks you open your eyes to see Joel staring at you, tears dropping from his cheek onto yours and that sets you off, chin wobbling.

The two of you make love like this, whispered promises of unending love, of desire, of the torture it was to be without one another. And through it all Joel keeps up his slow and steady pace, more wanting to be inside you than anything. There is no rush, no time to keep. Just you and him and the future ahead of you.

When you finally orgasm it’s a powerful thing that has you sobbing loudly even as Joel empties himself into you. He holds you as you cry raggedly against him, your face buried in his neck as you mourn the months apart, about the pain you’ve both caused and ultimately at the knowledge that you are together again.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he promises as he rocks you in bed.

“Never,” you echo.

---TWO YEARS LATER---

It's one of your traditional Sunday walks, both of you with a coffee in your hand. You're finishing up your blueberry croissant and you're enjoying the mild weather as tourists mill around you. 

Normally you both stick closer to home for coffee Sundays. Especially since Joel's workload has been extra tough with his latest project. You only finished school a year ago and have been at your job less than six months. Despite his workload Joel has never been happier.

He loves coming home to hear all about your day. The two of you take turns cooking dinner. Sometimes Tommy and Maria join and those two always stay late to drink and play cards. Tommy likes to give you shit about how you first met, but Joel always reminds him with a severe look to drop it.

Sarah and Charlie are often invited and often attend, bringing over little baked desserts because as Sarah puts it “my dad can’t bake for shit”. 

Unlike before, Sarah doesn’t ask you intense details about your romantic life but every so often when the two of you watch Charlie and Joel laughing about something while they BBQ she’ll cast a soft look over at you and offer a gentle: “I don’t think my dad has ever been this happy.”

You always reply the same: “Neither have I.”

When you and Joel got married three months ago he claimed it was because he felt it was time to ‘make an honest woman out of you’. Which was a boldfaced lie. He was just really really excited to finally call you his wife and have you wear his ring.

You and Joel couldn’t stop beaming the entire time.

Of course your garter had a little snowflake charm on it. A private joke for Joel to uncover when he undressed you later that night. One that he enjoyed very much, especially when he found it was just the right length to bind your wrists together. . .

"Why'd you wanna come all this way for coffee, baby?" Joel asks you now, his free arm around your waist as he guides you through the throngs of tourists. 

"Remember the murals you showed me years ago? I wanted to see them again."

Joel is pleased with this, dark eyes disappearing as he grins broadly. You both wander around the familiar neighborhoods, stopping at your old favorite murals from the last time you were there several years ago: the bread and butter, the I love you so much where you take a selfie with you kissing Joel's cheek. 

"Ready to head back, beautiful?"

“One more?" 

Joel nods, his big hand swallowing yours. You find yourself standing taller when he does this, showing him off. You see many of the women taking second looks when he walks by, their eyes twinkling. Joel Miller is the kind of man that gets better with age and you are reaping the benefits. 

Sometimes he worries he's too old for you, but he still loves you more than you've ever been loved and fucks you like a twenty two year old on Viagra so you have nothing to complain about.  And while Joel does get insecure sometimes about his age, when he watches you bounce up and down on his cock begging for more he knows that you’re more than satisfied.

You turn the corner to find the familiar mural, still crowded with tourists and drawn all over. 

Before I die:________________

"You mind if I write something?"

Joel looks surprised by your question but immediately takes your coffee cup and his free hand. 

"Course not, baby. Take your time." 

You kiss him gently before going over to the mural. There are hundreds of white pieces of chalk all around the ground in front of it. You take a piece and go to one of the free spaces, your elegant swoops clacking against the backdrop of frenzied writing. You drop the chalk to the ground, brushing the dust from your fingertips and sailing over to a waiting Joel.

"Wanna see what I wrote?"

Joel nods, smirking as you grab his wrist and drag him over to the mural. He stands beside you, his dark eyes searching for your familiar looping script amongst the sea of writing. Then he sees it, complete with a little heart beside it. 

Before I die: I want to have Joel Miller's baby. 

Joel smiles sweetly at this, eyes glazing over with adoration as he looks at the mural and then back to you. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"One day, baby," he promises you with a sweet kiss. 

You know he's trying not to be too excited. He's expressed his concern of making you feel pressured before. "I'd love to have a baby with you honey. But only if it's somethin' you want. No pressure from me.' How can he not understand that you'd happily give him an entire football team? 

"One day might be sooner than you think, Joel," you say gently. 

It takes him a moment to realize that you're holding your palm over your abdomen. The coffee he holds that you'd insisted needed to be decaf. Then it's like it all comes crashing into focus and his eyes go owlish. 

"You're-"

"Yeah."

Joel is normally not that expressive a man outside the bedroom or even outside the house. So it takes you by surprise when he drops both half-full coffee cups and lets out a whoop before hoisting you into his arms. 

"We're havin' a baby!" Joel shouts, twirling you around. You throw your head back in laughter, arms around his neck as you spin.

The nearby tourists give cheers and claps, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment even as you laugh. 

But Joel is soaking it up, eyes crinkled in delight, and you realize that he never had this with Sarah. He was young and frightened. But now he shouts his excitement and you don't have it in your heart to tell him to keep quiet.

Eventually he lets you down only so he can grab your face in his hands and kiss you so soundly whistles begin nearby. 

"Okay that's enough," you tell him with a laugh. 

He takes your hand and starts to lead you back towards the truck, a goofy grin on his face. 

"I thought we were walking?"

"In this heat? I'm gettin' you home and outta the sun."

Not even five minutes have gone by since he learned of your pregnancy and already he's started to worry about how to take care of you. 

"Congratulations," an older couple says as you walk by. You both thank them enthusiastically, the older women grinning up at Joel. "Your wife is so beautiful."

"Ain't she?" Joel says, his smile broad against his tanned face. "Most beautiful woman inside and out." 

"You're a lucky woman," the older woman says with a wink to you. You look up at your husband and feel your heart swell. 

"Ma'am, you have no idea." 

///

"What's your guess?"

"I hope it's a girl," Sarah announces from her folding chair in the middle of the swelling group. 

"Nah, it's a boy," Tommy insists with a grin. "We need more male energy around here." 

Sarah raises a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun, her engagement ring glinting in the sunlight. 

"The last thing this place needs is more male energy, Tommy."

The nearby group laughs as you run your hand over your swollen midsection. Joel's arm is around your shoulder and you feel his laughter rumble against your body. 

You're seven months pregnant and you're glowing. Everyone tells you that. You've never felt as beautiful as you do carrying Joel Miller's child. 

The backyard is decorated with tiny blue and pink baby silhouettes and it's ridiculously full with people from Joel's work, from your work and school friends, with Sarah's fiancé Charlie and his family, and your neighbors. The music plays in the background, the beers and wine are flowing and everyone seems to be having a great time. 

There's a pile of gifts for you and Joel to open later, and your parents mailed you out the largest package you've ever seen. You'd been unable to wait before opening that one with Joel this morning. 

Inside was an assortment of baby clothes, diapers, expensive looking cream, a bottle warming device and another small package wrapped in green ribbon. 

Inside this package was a rattle, a simple thing made of silver. Small and delicate with a pink bow faded over the years. Your eyes blur when you read the note. 

This rattle was once Heather's and then yours. It brought you both a great amount of joy and we thought it was only appropriate for it to be passed down to our grandchild. 

We apologize that we can't be there for the party, but we'd love to have you, Joel, and the baby up for Christmas this year if you would like to attend. If not we understand and perhaps could make plans for sometime in the New Year. 

Love, Mom and Dad

Joel is very excited to see what in his own words are "Where the uptight assholes live". He's still not their biggest fans and you're all trying to work through it. You're happy with how things are slowly progressing so far. 

"I'm voting girl," Maria tells you shrewdly, bouncing her own young son over her shoulder as she encourages him to burp. 

"I'll just be happy it's healthy," Joel insists, squeezing your shoulder gently. 

"Ten fingers and ten toes," you say after him. 

Joel kisses you sweetly. 

"When are we doing this damn reveal?" Comes a voice from the crowd. 

 Several others join in until a smiling Joel is helping you to your feet and guiding you towards the table by the patio that's covered in cupcakes. There's one small cake covered in white frosting and blue and pink question marks. 

Joel stands beside you, one hand on the small of your back. The music is lowered and the crowd comes to circle you and Joel. 

You give a wink to Sarah who returns it with a grin. You can see she's wearing the sash you bought her, the one that says "Big Sister". 

"Okay are y'all ready?" Joel raises the large cutting knife with one hand as the crowd cheers. 

Sarah raises her phone in front of her, hitting record. "Yep. Go for it!"

"How about you?" Joel asks gently, gazing down at your grinning expression. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

His hand is gripping the handle of the knife and he encourages you to place your hand over his. You both slice down the middle, bringing the knife back out of the cake to reveal pale pink icing along the blade. 

"It's a girl!" 

Cheers sound out everywhere around you, poppers going off with baby rattle shaped confetti. The cupcakes are passed around and everyone gives their congratulations and hugs, citing that you and Joel are going to make the most beautiful baby. 

You feel like you can't stop smiling. Is life supposed to feel this perfect? 

The food is delivered shortly after, and the swarm of guests descend upon Austin's best BBQ. Paper plates and beer bottles soon line the folding tables Joel set up early this morning. 

"For a baby shower being put on for me I sure have to do a lot of fuckin' work for it," he murmured to you this morning before getting up to help Tommy set up. 

You watch the people milling around the tables, smiling to yourself as you watch them laugh and chat. The backyard buzzes with energy and mild chaos and you love every second of watching it.

"What do you think of the name Eleanor?" You muse as you and Joel sit next to one another at one of the tables. "Means shining light."

Joel makes a face as if he's not quite on board.

"Mmmm, s'a bit old fashioned."

You purse your mouth in disappointment. You'd come upon that name in a book you were reading and found yourself completely taken with it. You try to find some middle ground. 

"We could call her Ellie?"

Joel's smile grows at this, whispering it under his breath a few times in that sweet twang of his. Ellie Ellie. 

"I like it." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Joel's mouth finds your temple, pressing a lingering kiss there. His voice lowers an octave, quiet and husky in your ear. 

"You know what I else I like?"

"Mmm?"

"How you looked coming for me this mornin'." 

Your face goes scarlet and you let out a surprised giggle before schooling your features into an exaggerated look of seriousness. 

"We'll have to behave now, Mister Miller since we're both going to be parents," you tell him with mock solemnity. 

You don't miss the way his nostrils flare at the sound of Mister Miller passing through your lips. 

Nor do you miss when he follows you into the house moments later when you claim to need the bathroom. 

He follows you inside in silence, his gaze heated as he comes to cup your swollen breasts through the thin fabric of your dress. You whimper softly, not wanting any passing guests to hear you.

“You’re not wearing a bra today are you?”

“Uh uh,” you grin wickedly. “I know you love it when they bounce for you.”

“Fuckin’ tease,” he grins against your ear before he turns you away from him, hands coming to grip the meat of your ass through your dress.

"Will you fuck me?" You purr, hand coming to graze his already throbbing bulge through his trousers. You shoot him your best innocent gaze, lashes fluttering. 

"Please, Mister Miller?"

He fumbles with his belt buckle as you slide your panties down over the globe of your ass. Joel lets out a grunt before sinking into you, his broad chest bracketing you from behind. Your head tilts back, jaw hinged open. He feels so fucking good every single time.

He fucks you against the door; hand over your mouth as you grip his neck behind you for purchase. Your belly nestles against the door lightly and your hips flex as he drives himself deeper into your drenched pussy.  

"Made me a Daddy," Joel groans in your ear, hips snapping against yours in a fervor. "Let me fuck you full and now everyone knows you're mine."

There's a sound of loud laughter outside and it makes you whimper as his cock pistons in and out of you. His hand is still sealed over your mouth. 

"Take it all, pretty girl. Take it all." 

His hands hold you tightly, but secure. He's paranoid of hurting you and the baby but that doesn't stop him from fucking you until his thrusting hips start to stutter. 

You glance over your shoulder to watch him, eyes shut and teeth bared as he fucks into you over and over. He’s fucking gorgeous like this, neck strained and curls falling into his forehead. One of the buttons of his dress shirt has come undone in the frenzy, showing you a swath of his muscled chest.

Your man.

"Taking me so well," he groans in approval. He opens his eyes to see you staring up at him with hearts in your eyes and he grins down at you. His face lowers to your shoulder as he croons more filth into your ear ending with a sultry:

"Such a good girl."

"And good girls get your come Mister Miller," you remind him breathlessly, a smile lingering as he kisses you soundly. 

"Yes they fuckin' do." 

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

a/n #2: Y'all I had to end it on a filthy note because of how these two started. Don't hate me for it heh heh

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TAGLIST

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#please mister miller #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #smut #joel miller smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #bfdjoelmiller #joel fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi..do you accept request?

If you do could you make Xiao is the father of creator child?

Thank you

The creator had a:

Birdly child

WC: ~700

I'm in love with how two asks came at the same time about Xiao, it's time to give the emo baby some love

I remember reading hatchlings often have rough feathers and aren't as photogenic as grown ups until the first feathers fall off.

“Bright yellow eyes aren't all that uncommon too” furina looks over your shoulder as you nurse your daughter, she would say she looks surprisingly unremarkable if that didn't sound like an insult of sorts even if it was true, dark blue hair and striking yellow eyes but nothing much. For one minute she hoped she would come out with long blue streaks and sharp angled ears, even if only so she could tease Neuvillette about his meeting with you.

“I’m happy enough that her face is similar to their grace” the tsaritsa sits beside you, a tea cup between her hands, as bitter as she seemed to whoever she expected was your lover her confirmation to the baby shower was the first to arrive, a few plushies and older baby clothes.

Zhongli stands just behind furina, watching her face as you burp Xuezhui, the little lift at the end of her eyes making them slightly sharper than they are, reminding him of a certain someone. Snow and bird, Aren't you a bit too on the nose? Oh, well, at least his dear apprentice and friend found some happiness. 

His gold eyes look at furina, a soft smile forming “I think she looks so cute, like a finch hatchling” his hand getting close to her and lightly brushing her rough hair with one finger, such a tiny baby.

“I never said she isn't!”

“Did you want to see me, Morax?” Xiao appears beside zhongli, Xuezhui was getting fuzzy and you decided to put the baby to sleep before returning to the archons, during that time they divided to do as they pleased, and by the steaming teapot Xiao could guess he decided to enjoy some tea 

“Take a seat”

“Is anything wrong?”

“I see you truly took it to heart to protect their grace, even spent the night in their room to be sure” zhongli swirls the golden tea inside the cup. The noise of the slight splashing drowned by the noise of him choking on his spit.

“My apologies, Rex Lapis, it wasn't meant to-” quickly he bows, his forehead touching the table but zhongli cuts him with a small smirk.

“when two finches love each other very much they spend the night together and-” 

“I'm already repenting, please…”

The night is warm and clear, the crescent moon on full display and your baby isn't in her crib yet you aren't truly worried after walking to the balcony and seeing a figure seated on the edge of the nursery's roof.

Xiao holds his daughter to his chest while trying to manage the wild mane of blueish hair she has, the exact same he had as a kid but chose to cut. Now, to some extent he wishes he listened to guizhong when she spoke of hairstyling. 

For now he settles with two pigtails on either side of her head, one lower than the other but his daughter was starting to wriggle around and start pushing her head against his neck, wanting to return to her crib and sleep. 

“Is she looking at me?” Arlecchino asks as she feels a gaze burning on her neck, usually if it was one of her children she would tell them off for being so obvious but for it to be a rather spoilt toddler who isn't training to be a spy she couldn't say much.

“Ah, apologies about it, she is going through a phase of watching everyone” there is your kid, her hair on two braids and her yellow eyes watching owlishly.

“You know, if you lent her to me I could train her, she seems to be a natural” she teases you.

“Oh, don't even worry” as you return to the conversation without paying her too much mind you can still see her unblinking amber eyes from the door.

“Stop crawling over your crib’s railing, you are going to hurt yourself!” You scold your toddler, one leg and an arm over the railing attempting to escape nap time “go to sleep, you are in a bad mood if you don't nap”

she mumbles something you guess was her saying she wanted to play or crawl around but you don't follow her game.

“I don't care! To bed, young missy or your little night scrolls with your dad are done!” she huffs and sits down her back facing you.

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #self aware genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #self aware genshin

[mrsmarinara]

“Can I sleep with you? with timo !!!

I’m All Yours || Timo Meier

Prompt: 29. “Can I sleep with you?”

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: I’m actively fist fighting writers block as I’m posting this. I also didn’t edit this so if my grammar is all over the place we should maybe focus on something else.

You were stubborn. You knew this and accepted it. Everyone had faults and some people refused to ever look in the mirror and face theirs. However, your stubbornness was not something you had to reflect on and learn about yourself. You had been a stubborn child, something that had gotten you into trouble often, and even now you were a stubborn adult.

Usually, it wasn’t a problem in your relationship.

Tonight was different, though.

Tonight was supposed to be your night together. The season had just ended and you finally had your boyfriend all to yourself. So when the two of you had gone out for dinner, just you and him in what felt like forever, you were delighted. When he looked at you with such admiration in his eyes or when he held your smaller hand within his own as he drove to the restaurant, it felt like a battle to not throw up the butterflies that were fluttering about in your stomach.

When the waitress had come to the table and made it abundantly clear that Timo was going to be at the sole focus of her attention. Every time she giggled or blushed, your heart had sunken deeper and the sips you had taken from your glass of wine had become longer. Timo hadn’t told a joke or shown any interest in her. In all the time the two of you had been together he had never done anything to make you feel as though he even thought of straying away from your relationship.

That wasn’t the point, though, and that was what he didn’t understand. He only looked at you with confusion as you slowly stopped contributing in the conversation. The confusion had turned to irritation when during the car ride back home you were quiet. Your cheeks were warm from the alcohol and there was an envious angry little monster in your chest that just wanted to rear its head.

Your boyfriend was charming, athletic and easy on the eyes. It wasn’t hard to understand the attention that he received and during the hockey season you were fine to step back and watch with a smile as people flocked to him. This was the off-season, though, and it was supposed to be your time with your boyfriend but it seemed as if you couldn’t even have that.

That was what he didn’t understand.

“I can’t control if someone decides to flirt with me,” he had said, annoyed that he even had to have this argument. He thought you would understood that and see that he never indulged those who batted their eyelashes at him.

“That’s not why I’m upset,” you scoffed, not looking at Timo. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your boyfriend and be reminded how even though you felt as though you were entirely his, he was never fully yours.

You had made your way into your shared bedroom and were struggling to undo the straps of your heels when Timo walked through the bedroom door. It only took one glance at the man to know that he was slowly losing his patience. His neatly combed hair was all over the place, probably from running his hands through it.

You looked away. You knew if you really took him in and saw the confused frustration on his face your anger would seep out of your body and for just a little while you wanted to sit in your simmering anger.

“Why are you upset then?” He asked.

When you finally managed to pull your shoes off you sighed and kicked them to the side. Timo watched, noting how you didn’t pick them up and put them in their place in the closet like you usually did.

“Did you even realize that tonight was the first night that we were spending together, alone and to ourselves in months?”

“That’s not true.” Timo said immediately.

“Oh? When was the last time we actually spent time together? Just you and me?” Your voice cracked as you asked him. You knew when the last time was and you were even more certain that Timo didn’t.

“Schatz-,” Timo sighed and took a step closer to you only for you to shake your head and step further away.

“I’ve accepted that I have to share you with everyone but it would be nice if you could actually want to spend time with just me,” you said bitterly.

You grabbed a pillow from your side of the bed when you felt a lump start to form in your throat. You didn’t want to cry but more than that you didn’t want to cry in front of Timo.

“I’m gonna spend tonight in the living room, goodnight.” You dodged his arms as you left your bedroom with your pillow and pajamas in your arms.

He called out for you again but knew better than to come after you. Sometimes you needed a minute to yourself.

However, a few minutes had turned into a few hours and you were still sitting on the couch. At this point, the only thing keeping you in the living room was your own stubbornness. You were still upset but the anger you had felt earlier had slowly ebbed away and now you just wanted to crawl into your comfortable bed and fall asleep in Timo’s open arms. You didn’t want to appear like a misbehaved dog that was coming back to its master with its tail between its legs. You weren’t wrong and a part of you needed your boyfriend to know that too.

You pulled the throw blanket you had pulled from the end of the couch tighter around yourself as you watched the clock that hung on the wall. With each tick that moved the arms of the clock you grew more antsy and after thirty minutes you finally sat up.

Grabbing your pillow and standing up you decided that you would be annoyed with your actions tomorrow. Tonight you just needed to feel your boyfriends strong arms around you.

Padding softly to your bedroom you silently hoped that Timo had fallen asleep. That way you wouldn’t have to explain yourself.

You didn’t get so lucky. As you stood in the door way to your bedroom Timo blinked back at you from your large bed. He wasn’t small by any means but looking on it seemed as if the bed was trying to swallow him whole.

“Can I sleep with you?” It was almost a whisper. You felt childish but also wary asking if. What if he was angry with you for being so upset earlier? You didn’t have anything left in you to fight again tonight.

Without hesitating Timo opened his arms for you. You wasted no time in striding over and crawling into the bed. You dropped your pillow in its usual spot and then promptly ignored it as you laid your head on Timo’s muscular chest. His arms closed around you and the warmth that enveloped you was enough to make you set out a sigh of relief.

Your eyes started to flutter shut as Timo rubbed soothing circles on your warm. You thought you were going to fall asleep without either of you saying anything but Timo whispered in the darkness, “it was during the preseason. When we went on a walk through the park and you ate the entire pretzel we were meant to share.”

You stiffened, jolted into a more awake state by his words.

“What?”

“The last time we spent time together,” he said, quiet and slowly as if he was afraid you’d turn away from him. “Just the two of us.”

“Timo-,” you said, just as quietly. You thought he had forgotten. That once the season started up again the only thing that he thought about was the game he played and those he played with and for.

“You have every right to be angry. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of us and I’m sorry that I didn’t see that you were upset earlier.”

You took in what he was saying in silence. You could hear and feel how sorry he was in the way he spoke and how he held you. The two of you definitely needed to talk more about this but that could wait until the sun was shining and you were both clear minded and awake. Tonight you only needed one thing.

“You’re all mine?”

You asked him, hating how fragile and hopeful you sounded.

He turned his head to the side so his lips brushed against your forehead as he spoke softly, saying the words as though they were a promise, “all yours.”

#Timo Meier #timo meier x reader #timo meier imagine #nhl imagines #my writing

[multi-fandom-imagine]

➤Ꮮꭼꭲ ꮋꮖꮇ ꮐꮻ

A/n: I apologize, I'm not very good at angst

|| request here ||

You thought he was everything, the love of your life, the one you were going to spend the rest of your life with and you had thought Lucifer felt the same.

He told you so

Being a fallen angel, you did not think anyone would want you....not that you could blame them, not after what the exterminators did but he....but Lucifer made you feel special...loved. It felt like heaven being with Lucifer.

He said he loved you...he said it but that all changed when she came back. He stopped looking you in the eye, he refused to look you in the eye.

'made a dumb mistake'

You could hear the tremble in his voice but he still wasn't looking you in the eye. Your teeth sunk into your lip, your arms wrapping around your stomach. It started to feel like the rumors about Lilith were being true.

It hurt....why did it have to hurt so much when he ended things. It felt like you couldn't breathe, that your world was crashing down on you. So you did the only rational thing that made sense to you, you left.

Biting back sobs, you felt a hand rub your back gently. Your body shifting spotting Angel Dust, he was one of the few people you were close too. The demon acting as an older brother.

"I know you love him but it's over doll,It's never easy to walk away." Angel Dust did his best to smile at you but it was hard to see you like this but he never once thought that Lucifer would pull a stunt like this.

"I'm pregnant." You whispered, tears sliding down your cheeks. "H-how can."

Swallowing thickly, Angel Dust brushed away a stray tear. " Let him go.It'll be ok.It's gonna hurt for a bit of time.You'll find another and you'll be just fine, so let him go...besides you ain't gotta worry about bein alone....you got me and Husk."

Laughing weakly, you sniffled nodding your head resting your head on his shoulder. "Okay."

Months came in went, you never stepped foot out of your room when Lucifer and Lilith were around until one day, you did not acknowledge the two but you knew Lucifer saw you.

But then you heard it, Angel Dust let it slip that Lilith left again. The demon snorting that it was not much of a surprise. You weren't how to feel, it was strange. You felt like you should feel sorry for him but you didn't, you were happy. Happy because he was now going through the pain you went through.

Hugging your daughter close, you cleared your throat giving Angel Dust a smile. "How about we go for a walk, Edna could use."

Giving you a wink, Angel Dust took the baby from your arms. "Sound's good. Though let Uncle Anthony hold her for a bit...give mama a rest."

Lucifer knew he made a mistake, that he was an idiot for falling it again but now. Now it was worst because he lost you...he lost his child.

Is this how you felt when he abandoned you? Miserable, did you have that empty feeling in your chest. Why did he do it? Why did he do that to you, you never deserved that.

Digging his nails into his palm he watched you and Angel Dust chat with one another, the baby asleep in the demons arms. He knew you two were close, that the man thought of you as a brother.

Lucifer knew he lost you for good and that he had no chance of getting you back.

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer mange x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader

[doomed2repeat]

I know some people use the argument that Colin “lead Penelope on” as a reason to dislike him or want him to grovel, but that’s putting the fuckboy filter on him that he doesn’t deserve. Saying Colin was leading Penelope on implies some premeditated motive that Colin simply did not have. Lead her on to what? More friendship??

Colin was not leading Penelope on, Penelope lead herself on, I’m sorry to say it. Literally everything Colin did was accompanied by a reminder that they were just friends, with him verbally reminding her they were just friends even, and despite it all, Penelope maintained hope. That’s normal, and relatable (I know I’ve been there), but that doesn’t make her hope Colin’s fault, and with Colin being unaware of it, it especially doesn’t make it his responsibility.

Colin and Pen’s problem was that the way they saw their relationship never matched up from the beginning. From the moment they met Penelope was in love with him and framed their relationship around that love, while Colin only saw friendship. This is one person in the friendship catching feelings and trying to romanticize platonic aspects of that friendship. Penelope was always primed to treat his behavior with rose colored glasses and hope, while Colin was absolutely oblivious to how she was taking his friendliness, and worse- he couldn’t recognize her crush because that is how she’s always acted with him.

And as their childhood friendship developed into their adult years, Colin didn’t transition into treating Pen like an adult woman that he should distance himself from, because he still saw her as his friend and didn’t realize anything had changed. This is pretty much the problem behind the “You do not count” situation. Colin means he could never stop talking to her because of their established friendship, while Penelope hears “you do not count as a woman.”

Colin might’ve been acting in ways that were inappropriate for a regency man and woman to do, but within the context of them being friends for years, from before her debut, it’s obvious that Colin was just continuing childhood behaviors - not changing them in a way that would lead Penelope on- because Colin didn’t see any reason to change them. He doesn’t see a girl with a crush, he sees Pen, his old childhood friend. He didn’t think to be careful with her romantic feelings because he doesn’t know she has any. He doesn’t think to be careful with her reputation because he doesn’t consider this longstanding friendship to be scandalous.

If Colin was more situationally aware, the only way to avoid this whole thing would be for Colin to have stopped interacting with Penelope outside of basic politeness once he realized her crush on him, but as we all know, Colin doesn’t consider Pen someone he could cut off, and he is not situationally aware. And so yeah, we’re all groaning because as viewers we can see all the little ways Colin is overstepping and braking social rules, but do you really think Colin sees it?

“Leading Penelope on” implies that Colin was intentionally playing with Penelope’s feelings to get something out of her. But this is a true “Oblivious Colin” moment. Give the boy some grace, he just didn’t know!!! It’s a friends to lovers story. Colin is just in the friends phase. It might be frustrating until he falls for her, but it’s what we signed up for!

#Colin’s POV matters to the story #there are two sides to this #also a reminder how the friend zone has been used against women #polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #friendzone #friends to lovers #Colin’s POV

[wonwoosthetic]

when will we get a new chapter for minnie 🫶🏼

a/n: now! ˙ᵕ˙ this was a request sent to me through my Google form, so thank you to whoever wrote it🤗 I hope you guys like the quick little chapter!

series masterlist

warnings – pregnancy scare, short mention and implications of infertility, jokes and mentions about sex

word count – 4.6k

summary – minnie gets a little scare and there’s only one member she can think of to call

pairing – minnie & vernon (mentions of wonwoo x minnie x mingyu)

Better Safe Than Sorry 🌷 Minnie

Minne was in a panic. For the past two hours, the girl hadn't found a second of rest, pacing around the apartment, trying to keep herself busy before the thoughts running through her brain could catch up with her. Vernon was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago, only adding to her anxious state. Wonwoo and Mingyu were at the gym, thank God, she thought to herself.

The past few days, or more so even two weeks, had been... interesting. It started with a headache spanning over multiple days, only for it to turn into a migraine. Or so she thought. Throwing up, going to bed as early as possible, and sleeping in for as long as she could. Something was not right. Add the random heat flashes she had experienced the week before and Minnie started speculating. The moment she realised that her period had been a few days late made her shut down.

It was so secret that women in the industry encountered irregularities with their cycles as stress and diets dominated their lives. But Minnie and the entirety of Seventeen were in a good place. None of them was totally overworked at that point, thanks to their new contract. Diets were, thanks to the need to fit into the impossible beauty standards, still a topic of discussion but they were doing fine. Right?

It was one night out that made her mind spiral. Rapidly.

-

Minnie was enjoying a dinner with her closest friends from school, having made a reservation in one of their favourite restaurants a week ahead to make sure they'd get a private room. Food and drinks were passed around the table, discussions and conversations were flowing and laughter filled the room. Everyone was having a good time. When it hit that point of the night where people were slowly starting to leave, say their goodbyes and make promises to meet up again soon, the female singer was left with her two closest friends from that group. 

Léon, once a boy too afraid to show his true colours, is now a proud man with a husband waiting for him back in their new hometown in Spain. And Hana, the legend of a best friend who had gifted Minnie her first vibrator, and now the owner of one of the most-visited clubs in the nightlife of Hongdae.

The two were well tipsy while Minnie had held herself back a bit. They were still giggling at one of their friends who had stumbled through the door as he exited, the multiple shots of liquor clearly taking over his body.

"You look a little paler than usual," Léon suddenly commented, glancing at the idol with a slight frown, "Are you okay?"

"She probably just got a new IV infusion for extra light skin," the other girl joked, getting a chuckle out of the singer. Hana had never been a fan of the idol life.

Minnie shrugged, her finger circling the rim of her glass, "I've been feeling kinda off."

Her friend downed the last shot on the table before turning to her in confusion, "How off?"

Minnie sighed, "I've had a headache for like... a week now. And two days ago I was throwing up all day. Even yesterday and today when I woke up I felt like I had to puke..." The two friends were eyeing her carefully, letting her speak freely. "And then I had some random, like... heat flashes?" She glanced up to meet their eyes, "I don't know what the hell that was, but... yeah... something's going on, I don't know. But I don't want to provoke it with alcohol."

"That," the guy of the group leaned back, eyes now wide, "does not sound good."

"Yeah, but it must be something with my immune system. My period's also God knows where."

"You missed your period?!" Hana gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Girl-" Léon eyed her with a surprised expression, but Minnie was quick to stop them.

"No, no, no," she waved her hands, "It's not like that. I've missed it before, but it... it's a weird coincidence."

"What do you mean 'not like that'? That sounds a lot like being pregnant to me!" The tattooed girl hissed at her.

That was the first time she had heard the word out loud. Of course, it had crossed her mind. Just like every other woman. The moment her period was late, the first thought to come to her was 'shit, what if I'm pregnant', only to dismiss it a second later at how ridiculous it sounded.

"No, I-... we have the tour and we're preparing for a new album, and it's just... stress or something."

"But you've been stressed before. Way more stressed," the guy in front of her commented. "I don't want to scare you, but... you know..."

"If there's anyone that could be pregnant, it's you, Min," Hana casually told her, leaning back against the cushioned seats.

Minnie frowned as she glanced at her. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"No one's getting laid like you," she laughed, making the other two at the table chuckle and Léon threw his head back in glee.

"Oh, shut up!" The idol exclaimed, "You've got a line of men waiting for you to call them back after leaving their apartment in the middle of the night. And that's just from last week."

"That's not true!" Hana pointed her finger at the girl. "You get two dicks on a regular! Every day, I bet!"

"It's not every day!"

"Every other day then," the only guy quickly commented before their discussion could get any louder.

Minnie shrugged, "Yeah... so what?"

"My God," he chuckled with a shake of his head, "I'm jealous. Honestly." Making the girl laugh out loud.

"No, but seriously," Hana stopped the two, letting silence wash over the table once again. "Have you thought of it?"

"No! Because..." Minnie went quiet.

"They're not using condoms. Don't lie to us," Léon glared at her, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Hana faked a gasp, "You slut."

"You're not even using them on strangers!" Minnie pointed out, only for her friend to slap her hand away.

"This isn't about me!"

"Whatever..." the singer mumbled, her eyes back on the glass. It was still half filled with the mix of Soju and beer she decided not to finish.

"Okay, but seriously," Léon started again, "Could there... be a possibility?"

"For one, I'm on the pill," she explained, noticing her friends opening their mouths to argue, so she continued, "I know! I know that's not 100% safe, but it's... very safe-"

"I don't know about very safe, to be honest," Hana went back to nursing a glass of water. "My mom was on the pill and look at me now," pointed at herself with a proud grin.

"Don't make me scared," Minnie mumbled as she fell back onto her chair with a sigh.

"We don't want to scare you," her guyfriend explained, letting the other girl continue,

"But take a test, just in case," Hana shrugged. "You know how many pregnancy scares I've had? Still, better safe than sorry." She ended her speech by finishing her water.

Minnie's gaze had landed on her lap, where her thumbs had already started fidgeting with each other. "I...," she started with a sigh but stopped herself again right away.

"What?" Léon wondered, keeping a close eye on the singer, but she just shook her head and brought the glass of alcohol up to her lips.

"Nothing." And downed the last bit.

-

Four days later Minnie was still fighting her stomach each day, going out of her way to try and get as little food and water into her system as possible, knowing it would only trigger her and make her run to the toilet. On the other hand, the lack of nutrition was most definitely also adding to the nausea. There seemed to be no way out for the female singer.

On the verge of tears, overwhelmed with emotions, she had texted Hana in the morning, begging her to go to the store to buy her a pregnancy test. She was still very much in denial of the possibility of her being knocked up, but there were too many signs... But then again, she remembered the conversation she had with her gynaecologist two years ago. The doctor had only let a few words fall from her mouth before Minnie realised what she was trying to tell her.

At the sound of the front door's bell, the idol's head perked up, a second before she was rushing to the door. Once she pressed the camera button, she came to face with the young rapper she had called and pressed to open the door downstairs.

"Thanks!" Came through the speakers as Vernon disappeared into the building.

For the next minutes it would take him to come up, Minnie tried to pretend to have to do something, just praying the time would pass by quicker. The tests, yes multiple, were already placed on the counter of the main bathroom's sink. Hana had arrived with two in her bag, along with chocolate and prosecco to celebrate in case they'd be negative. The alcohol was chilling in the fridge while the sweet treat was waiting for her in the cabinet, with her definitely enjoying it either way of how the tests would come out.

Another doorbell sound rang through the apartment, notifying the female member of his arrival. With a few big steps, she stopped in front of the door, pulling it open in a swift motion. A wide-eyed Vernon standing right in front of her.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she mumbled, catching him off-guard as she pulled him in.

With a frown, the younger member stood right in front of her, shuffling his feet out of his shoes before he followed her down the hall.

"What's going on?"

She continued to walk in silence, only coming to a halt in the middle of the living room. Vernon stopped at the corner into the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Alright," Minnie sighed, bringing her hands up in front of her, "Look..."

"Oh," the '98 Liner nodded, understanding this was going to be even more serious than he had expected. As if her call, asking him 'Can you come over? Like now? Just for a bit?' with zero explanation didn't alert him enough already, her stance certainly brought his heartbeat up.

"Are you okay?" He repeated his question, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, not daring to lean back in comfort.

The girl pressed her lips together, nodding as she avoided his gaze. "I-... I think so, yeah."

"That's not a yes, so that's alarming."

"No, wait-" she stopped him, "Just-... listen, okay?" Making him nod, so she could continue. "I called you because I know- or, at least I hope, you... won't judge me," his frown made her rush her words out even quicker. "And you won't overreact, because I- I don't even know if I really should be concerned, and honestly, I don't think I should be and if you ask me, I think it's impossible, and I'm overreacting, but some other people have made me think otherwise."

"Oh...kay?" Pure confusion was still written across his face. A beat of silence washed over the two as Minnie thought about what to say next. She was looking around the room, knowing there was no way out and she had brought herself into this situation.

She took one deep breath before blurting out, "I need to take a pregnancy test," pressing her lips tightly together again as she waited for a reaction.

Vernon's eyebrows shot up the moment the words tumbled from her lips. He closed his eyes for a split second, trying to take in what she had just said to him.

"Ehm... for... what?"

Minnie looked at him perplexed, "What do you think people take pregnancy tests for?" She knew sex ED in South Korea wasn't good, but she had hoped it wasn't that horrible.

"Well, I hope you're not gonna take it for the reason I think you might be taking it," he glanced up at her. 

He called himself lucky to get to have her as an older sister despite only being born two months apart. Vernon and Minnie had been close ever since he became a trainee under Pledis, the older girl taking him in as a little brother in an instant. Over the years, she had realised that the lack of an age gap was starting to show as she found herself looking up at him more and more, mentally and literally physically as he had shot up in height. She had found herself looking for comfort in him, asking him for advice or even just listening to him. While some members were more physical when it came to showing their appreciation and love, Vernon kept himself in the background, choosing quiet acts of kindness as his love language, which she sometimes appreciated even more than anything else. But even with all the love the two had for each other, their sibling-like relationship was no secret and not kept behind closed doors.

"And what is the reason you're not hoping for?" She had crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes still unsure of whether or not to lock with his.

Vernon sighed and shook his head before glancing back up at her, now finding her gaze. "Do you seriously think you're pregnant?"

"No," she was quick to answer.

The '98 Liner rose from his seat. "Then why take the test?"

"Because!" Minnie started pacing around the room again, fixing her hair along the way.

"Because?" He nagged her.

The girl to a stop. "Better safe than sorry."

Vernon couldn't help but sigh again, "Minnie..."

"There's a 0.01 per cent chance-"

"Don't say 0.01 because if it really was 0.01 you wouldn't even think of taking one!" He pointed a finger at her, quickly realising the rude gesture and putting his hand down again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Okay, then maybe a slightly bigger chance... I don't know..." the female member bit down on her lip as her voice quieted down. Her gaze was back on the floor. "I'm scared."

Her confession made the rapper look back at her. He understood the seriousness of the situation, yet he had never seen the girl that way before. On a night out with the group, they had found out about the first pregnancy scare she had had years before, but she acted differently about it then. Took it with a lot more humour. But now, the woman in front of him just confessed to being scared. And he was the one she had trusted to confront about it.

Vernon glanced around the room. He couldn't freak out. He was supposed to help her here.

"Don't be scared," he tried to assure her, getting up from the sofa to take a step closer to her. "Are you serious though?"

Fallen silent, the girl just nodded. After not getting a verbal response back, she spoke up to explain, "I just... I've been feeling kinda... off. It's weird," she brushed it off, "and I really- I don't think I am, but... what if I am?"

Vernon accepted her answer, taking a second to himself. "Okay," he took a deep breath in and out. "It's okay. You have a test?" He asked her.

Minnie nodded.

"You went out and bought one?" Not even trying to conceal the concern in his voice.

"No," she told him, passing him as she made her way to the bathroom. "Hana got two for me."

"Where's she?" The younger member was hot on her feet.

"At work," Minnie explained. "She bought them on her lunch break." She stopped in front of the door, turning around to come to face with the rapper.

Vernon lowered his voice. "Why did you call me?"

The female idol shrugged.

He was desperate at this point. It felt like the wrong situation to be in for him. "Why not... Minghao... or... Shua, or Coups-"

"Coups would have me on a leash and drag me to get me castrated the moment he heard the words 'pregnancy test'!" She defended herself, getting a slight chuckle from him in return.

"Don't know how that would work but you're probably right. He'd do it at the word 'pregnancy' already," he mumbled.

"And... Shua would be way too emotional and... I don't know... Hao too. They'd be so... careful around me and try to comfort me-"

"You don't want to be comforted?"

"Not right now," she shook her head and gulped as he met his eyes. "I called you because you're the only person I know who can just sit there and be there for someone. Without overreacting... or... freaking out. And I'm kinda freaking out, so I need someone with a cool head right now."

"Not gonna lie," Vernon confessed, "I'm freaking out a little though."

"But you're hiding it well."

"Ditto," he nodded at the female member.

Another moment of silence washed over the apartment. Minnie took a quick look into the bathroom, her eyes immediately on the two pink packages by the sink.

"It's basically impossible that I'm pregnant," she admitted. The wheels in Vernon's head started turning, thinking that it was never truly impossible, unless... but he decided not to question her further.

"But I had weird... signs, I guess. And Hana and Léon made me scared. I just wanna make sure."

The '98 Liner nodded along to her words, shaking his head even harder the moment she looked back at him. "Do that. Take the test. Or tests," he dramatically pronounced the plural form.

Minnie nudged her head after a second to take a breath. "Can you come with me?"

Vernon immediately frowned. "Wh- Into the bathroom?"

The girl nodded.

"Ew, no! I'm not gonna watch you piss, bro."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't watch me pee. Just sit next to me," pointing to a stool they had in the bathroom for whatever reason. "Hold my hand?" She batted her eyes at him, mostly to lighten up the situation, while holding a bit of seriousness behind her ask.

"Absolutely fucking not," he shook his head. "Go. I'll be right here."

She eyed him up and down, scrunching up her face. "You're not a real one."

Vernon's eyebrows shot up. "If that's the requirement, I'm good," brushing her off and pushing her to finally get into the bathroom. "Weirdo," he mumbled, getting a last glare. At least she hasn't completely lost her spark, he thought to himself.

The moment she disappeared into the room, Vernon was met with the silence of being by himself. It was only then he realised that he hadn't even asked her about Wonwoo and/or Mingyu. Thinking, if anyone should be there, it would be the two men in question. He passed the thought after a moment of debating, coming to the conclusion that she'd have her reasons. Even after her explanation, he was still slightly confused as to why she'd rather have him than them here with her. He decided he'd rather stay in the unknown rather than pester her with more questions. Right now, she needed a friend, not an interrogator, by her side.

-

Vernon cleared his throat awkwardly.

The duo had found their way onto the couch with the two tests placed neatly on the coffee table ahead of them, facing down so neither one of them could even dare to get a glimpse of the results before the timer went off.

"And... ehm...," he tried to pass the time, hoping to somehow soothe the nerves rushing between both of them. "So... if you were though, like... pregnant," he carefully wondered, seeing her almost flinch at his words. He turned to look fully at her, finding her already staring at him. "Would you... w-would you... you know...," Vernon let out a chunk of air, "know whose it is?"

The time he had to himself let his mind wander to places he didn't even want it to go, but he couldn't help it.

Minnie stayed quiet for a few seconds, the words hitting her clearly hard as her eyes drifted off him.

"Ehm...," she took a deep breath. "I... I- eh... I... no?" Lowering her head, her gaze was back on her hands intertwined in her lap. She gulped, "I don't- I don't think so, n-no..." The confession appeared in the form of a big lump in her throat. 

While she was able to have her fun with the two men in her life, it was only now that she came across an obstacle like this. Of course, they had had conversations about protection, being careful instead of mindless, and consent. Yet, the topic of a possible pregnancy while still taking precautions seemed to have passed them.

Vernon nodded, his lips tightly pressed together. "Alright... damn...," he raised his eyebrows. "That- that's... wow, impressive... I mean- g-good for you. That's... good for you. And I- I mean not good good for you if you're pregnant, but, you know... good as in good for-"

"Vernon?"

"Yeah, I'm shutting up."

Not the time or place for a conversation like that, nor did she want to go into more detail about the couple's constellation in the bedroom with one of her closest friends, whom she considered her little brother. Neither did Vernon. But the silence had become dreadful.

Any other day, the duo would have no issue sitting next to each other in complete silence, yet, at that very moment, both wanted anything but to stay quiet. And finding a topic of conversation seemed more challenging than ever before.

The '98 Liner could see her shaking leg in the corner of his eye, unsure of how to comfort her well enough since it was the first time in a situation like that for him too. In an attempt to help her, he reached out and placed his hand on her knee, hoping it would calm her.

"It's okay," he quietly told her, turning his head to meet her clearly frightened gaze.

"Is it though?" She kept the conversation going.

He retrieved his hand again to turn the rest of his body to face her more clearly.

"You said it's... very unlikely." He continued to choose his words carefully, not trying to overstep and drag her into a hole she might not get out of.

Minnie nodded. "Yeah...," she whispered, hugging herself as if she was freezing. "Very unlikely, but... never impossible, right?"

Vernon shrugged his shoulder, "I think only you'd know that. If it's possible or not."

Whether they were talking about the act of conception or possibly rather the chances of her fertility would stay between the two.

The girl gulped. "It's unlikely. Very, very unlikely." 

A quiet pat on her back gave her the validation and comfort she craved and asked for.

"That's why I called you," Minnie confessed after a short few seconds of quietness.

"Hm?" Vernon glanced back at her after his eyes had been fixed on his phone.

"You can just sit here. Accept it, without a big reaction. And I still feel comforted. You... your presence is very comforting."

The question as to why him and not the men that lived with her was still burning his tongue, yet he didn't even dare to let it fall from his lips. Maybe another time.

"I still don't think I'm the right person for something like this-"

"You are," she quickly reassured him. "I didn't even think of anyone else."

The truth was, were the first people to pop into her head her lovers? Yes, of course. But in a moment of panic, in a situation that could affect either one of their lives immensely, she didn't want to confront them. Not with 100% certainty of a result. She wanted to avoid the unnecessary anxiety and hysteria spreading to other people involved in this. Not if there's nothing to be worried about in the first place, she kept on convincing herself.

In addition, as they had talked about before, knowing the rest of her members, there was a group of them that would try to be as emotionally available as they possibly could, their arms around her during the entire process, trying to console her while she just needed someone next to her. The other part of them would turn it into the headline of their tabloid, running around frantically, trying to make sense of the situation, while freaking out, scaring her even more.

And then there was Cheol, the oldest of them all, she shook her head as she didn't even want to think of a possible reaction of his. Yes, he'd support her no matter what, but the image of disappointment on his face was something she couldn't stomach.

Silently, Vernon leaned back, a tight smile on his lips. He appreciated her honesty.

Their sweet moment of companionship was interrupted by the sound of the teeth-shattering, chill-sending sound of his alarm. Vernon didn't even think of changing the ringtone, just opting to go with the standard iPhone one, making the girl shudder as he turned it off.

"Alright," he sighed. "You ready?"

Minnie nodded, pushing herself up to sit further on the edge, her knees close to hitting the coffee table.

"I do one, you do one?"

"Dude, you peed on that, I'm not touching it!" His exclaim made her look at him dumbfounded.

"I peed on that part," she pointed at the end covered by a plastic cap. "You won't even touch it."

But Vernon just shook his head. "You do it."

"Real supportive," she mumbled at him with an amused glare and nudge of her head.

Rushing down the number from three to one in her head, with a deep breath, she turned one test around, wanting to rip the bandaid off quickly and get it over with. Carefully, she looked at the small electronic display, ready for the worst to hit her.

"Not pregnant," she read out loud with a big breath of air. With a quick move, she turned around the second one, a content smile on her lips as she found the same result.

"Not pregnant," Vernon nodded, looking at the coffee table ahead of him before turning towards the female member. "You okay?"

Minnie pressed her lips together tightly, looking at him with a somewhat smile on her face as she nodded. "Yeah..."

Her gaze fell back on the white and blue plastic, her hands still cramped up in her lap as the younger rapper let himself fall further back into the blue couch. He let a moment pass, giving her the silence to herself.

"You know," he patted her back, gaining her attention, "If you were though...," she met his eye. "I'd drive you. Check-up... or...," with a motion of his hand, he pretended to cut his neck, getting a chuckle from her in return.

"I know," she whispered, not trusting her voice to become any louder. Too many emotions were rushing through the short moment, too many for at that time after coming close to what she'd describe as a heart attack.

In the blink of an eye, she had her arms wrapped around his torso, making the younger member smile softly as he returned the embrace. A comforting hand ran up and down her arm. It wasn't often he reciprocated the show of affection from her, but he'd let her for now, knowing she most definitely needed it.

With her cheek against his shoulder, he felt her tightening her arms in a pulse as she spoke up again.

"That's why I called you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

#minnie 🌷 #seventeen #seventeen oc #seventeen 14th member #vernon

[masonreds]

I have a request for an Instagram au, it would be Black Caribbean reader and Mason soft launch

✨Greece Diaries - Social Media AU✨

hi my love, i hope you enjoy this and sorry if doesn’t fit to your standard I’ve never done anything for a different ethnicity. I thought I would change it up and make it holiday vibes because I did soft launch last week and let’s ignore the bits where Mason has brown hair, let’s just pretend it’s blonde again. AND I’m so sorry it’s late, I didn’t realise I would have plans 😭😩 nevertheless I hope you enjoy this ❤️

sorry to keep apologising I get nervous when posting requests. It’s too stressful for me 😭

yourusername

liked by masonsprivate, maya_ and 109,498 others

yourusername I’m such a fool for you..

user1 WHO IS THIS OMG?

user2 where are you? It looks beautiful 🤩

⤷ user3 it looks like Greece 🇬🇷

⤷ ynupdates I THINK I KNOW WHO IT IS?!

⤷ user4 already??

⤷user5 let’s be respectful and wait and whenever y/n wants to share who it is she’s with.

user3 how’s y/n gonna soft launch without giving any facial descriptions of him

⤷ maya_ him?? she’s with me guys, sorry to burst your bubble

⤷ yourusername can confirm this is correct 😌

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Twitter

Instagram

ynupdates

liked by user3, user7, masonupdates and 15,987 others

ynupdates According to FootballersWAGS on Twitter they’re both in Greece. Is this Y/N’s mystery man???

user6 As much as I’d like this to be true there’s nothing that suggests they’re together. They could just be coincidentally in Greece together

⤷ user4 is that your denial and jealousy talking? ⤷ user6 neither babe, I’m just not delusional like the rest of you

⤷ user4 its not delusion it’s called stating facts babe

⤷ user3 OKAY CAN YOU GUYS STOP FIGHTING OVER SOMETHING THAT MAY NOT EVEN BE TRUE!!!

masonfan he’s so 😍

⤷ masonupdates FR!! like Y/N’s a lucky lady! ⤷ ynsupdate Y/N’s lucky? LOOK AT HER!!🤩

user7 they will look so cute together if this is true

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yourusername added to story

Greece Diaries 📔

masonupdates replied to your story: OMG THAT IS MASON!!! You can’t tell me otherwise!

masonmount replied to your story: feeling brave are we?

⤷ I let my impulsive thoughts take over and now I kind of regret it but it’s too late now 👀

masonmount replied: don’t worry, I’ve got your back angel ❤️

⤷ you’re cute when you want to be 🥹🥰

masonmount replied: excuse you? rude 🙄

liked by yourusername

99+ DM requests

masonmount

liked by yourusername, lukeshaw and 170,799 others

masonmount All we got is us, when nobody does, I got you you 🤍

tagged: yourusername

ynupdates I WAS RIGHT OMG AHH!!

user3 the first picture..lord give me strength

lukeshaw why did I not know about this? 🧐

⤷ anouskasantos where have you been? everyone knew about this Luke

⤷ masonmount I’m just sneaky 😈

⤷ yourusername you are NOT sneaky

maya_ I’m just pushed to the side eh. the other woman ☹️

⤷ yourusername I’m sorry my love 😔

user8 I don’t know if I want to be y/n or mase

masonfan2 THEY ARE GOING TO BECOME THE NEXT IT COUPLE

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#mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount instagram au #mason mount fluff #mason mount story #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fic #mason mount fics #mason mount fan fic #mason mount fanfic

[toji-fushiguro-is-broke]

Toji meeting your parents

Toji meeting your parents

He didn't want to meet your parents, he didn't even want to think about it.

Just like any kind of boyfriend, He felt tensed and nervous about it.

Ever since you brought that topic, he kept telling you he was busy with missions.

He made sure that his missions collided with the days your parents either visit or when you bring up him meeting your parents.

He knew for sure your parents would never like him, he's a old man who gambles and kills people. AND he lives in the streets before he moved in with you into your apartment.

After some time you noticed that Toji had really become avoidant about the topic of meeting your parents, you wanted to talk to him.

"Toji, Can we talk?" You spoke as he froze in his spot, It can only mean one thing to Toji.

And that is headaches, He hates talks like these it stresses him out.

He sighed as he followed you to the bedroom.

"Toji-" "Yeah, I don't wanna meet em." He interrupeted you.

"Why?" You asked, "You know why." He replied.

You sighed, "Don't be like that Toji"

"But, I am like this." He said

"Toji, I'm the one with you, not my parents I love you for who you are. The reason why I want to introduce you to them is because, I want my parents to meet the man I love. And even if they don't like you, I do and I don't care what they say, If it makes you uncomfortable I understand it, I won't force you." You said as you hugged him.

"No one can stop me from loving you." You whispered to him as you kissed him goodnight.

After that talk Toji stayed awake that entire night thinking about your words, it gave him a huge headache.

No one, had accepted him for who he is except you and his ex wife. He knew he was hard to love, especially since he doesn't know how to recieprocate any kinds of feelings except anger and contempt.

He still doesn't know how to stomach having a relationship with you.

But your words got him thinking, after a few weeks, he had thought about it.

"I'll do it." He spoke while he was eating his breakfast.

"Do what?" You questioned him as you think of the things he might mean, then it hits you.

"You'll meet my parents?" You smiled in glee.

"Yeah, don't expect me to be nice and shit, or them to like me. Because clearly you know who I am." He said as he continues to eat.

The day came, where he's about to meet your parents.

He tried fixing himself, he bathed, brushed his teeth, changed into acceptable clothes and then he hid his weapons.

He was anxiously waiting inside your apartment feeling tensed, sweating.

"Fuck this is harder than killing Special grade curses and sorcerers." he grumbles as he heard the door knob open.

He felt his heart sank as he stood up walking to the door as you introduced your parents he stood quiet.

You all sat down at the dining table as your parents introduced themselves.

"Toji Fushiguro..." He introduced himself

Your parents didn't think much about it, since you already told them about him so your parents were adjusting in this case.

"So Toji, I'm happy you've met our daughter, we've never thought she'd find someone." Your mother joked.

"She was rotting on our basement for long as I've remembered" Your Father added.

"Mama! Papa!" You yelled

"What? It's true." Your mom said as you all laughed.

Your parents didn't need to know anything more about Toji. They already heard alot from you.

You were already old enough to make your own decisions and they're just there to guide you whenever you need them.

Toji was shocked that your parents weren't disgusted at him.

Your parents told stories about you to Toji so Toji would ease himself with them.

Which ends up you being embarrassed, you knew that Toji would tease you all about it later. But you were happy that you noticed that Toji was being at ease.

You stood up and excused yourself at the bathroom.

Toji knew that there might be a confrontation in this period, since you weren't here anymore.

"Toji let me be frank, I don't know who you are or where you came from. All I know is that you make our child happy, that's what matters, but hurt her you'll regret it I promise you that." Your Father said

After that you came back.

The meeting went well as you exhaled sitting on the living room clearly tired.

"I hope they didn't give you a hard time." You said as you looked at him.

"It went better than I expected." Toji said

"Why do you think so?" You curiously asked him.

"Met my ex wife's parents, didn't go well. Her parents asked lots of shit. They found out that I'm a piece of garbage not fit for their daughter. They wanted us to break up." He said as he was pouring water on a glass.

To be honest, it also went unexpected on your side as well. Usually your parents would also interrogate.

But you knew they'd understand you and your decisions because you were already an adult and you were thankful for that.

But it was probably because you've already told your parents about him.

*Flash back*

"Mom, I love him. I know you think that he isn't good for me, But I don't care I'm a grown adult who can make her own decisions."

*End of Flash back*

You and your parents argued alot about Toji that made you really stressed out that you had to drink meds.

But you didn't care, you'll stand your ground.

#jjk #jjk toji #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro #jjk toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you

[zukosdualdao]

i'm a worst case kid / in a plague pit town

zutara month, day 1: reluctant allies

summary: ever-slight canon-divergence in which zuko accepts katara's offer to heal iroh after feeling his too-weak, dying pulse, as his injury is bad enough zuko is unsure he will survive otherwise. not much else changes. it was never going to.

warnings: canon-typical depictions of injury, violence, and trauma responses.

other notes: title is a lyric taken from tommy lefroy's "worst case kid". starting pov is zuko's, ending pov is katara's. two pieces of dialogue are directly taken from the show.

*

The wind is whistling in this dry, abandoned, dead town, dead like—

Zuko does not shiver, and he does not cry.

He used to be able to tell himself things like that and mean it. When did that stop being true?

Uncle’s pulse is so faint, for a moment, he thinks it isn’t there at all. Even when he feels it, he knows it might as well not be. He might not have long at all.

Zuko hears the other footsteps approaching, their silence loud and almost mournful, but he bristles on instinct. They can’t see him like this, can’t see Uncle like this—how could he be so stupid as to turn his back on the enemy? 

“Get away from us!” he shouts as he looks back. They’re all staring at his uncle’s prone form, and Zuko turns back to him, too, heaving heavy breaths. He needs to do something, but he is weak, useless, outnumbered—

“Zuko, I can help,” the waterbender insists, and Zuko wants to snarl, yell, reach for his fire, and he raises his hand to do so—and frowns. 

What does she mean?

He looks back to where Uncle lies prone.

A heartbeat shouldn’t feel like that. The Dragon of The West shouldn’t go down so easily.

Uncle shouldn’t be able to seem so small and worn and fragile.

Slowly, Zuko lowers his hand and looks to her striking blue eyes. There’s no pity or malice there, he doesn’t think, she just looks… still cautious and unyielding, but sad and sincere, too.

He’s fallen for tricks like this before, though—Azula has always loved how easily she could fool him—and it feels a little like he’s standing on the edge of a steep precipice.

It would be naive to just… trust the word of an enemy. She has no reason to want to help him. He knows this.

The rest of them still watch his uncle’s maybe-dying form, but the waterbending girl stares at Zuko unflinchingly, almost as though in challenge.

Uncle groans brokenly, the noise like that of a wounded animal. 

“How?”

*

The world is dead silent.

The prince of the Fire Nation is staring at her with tears threatening to fall from his right eye, though not the left, which is twitching lightly. She’s never before noticed how he can’t seem to open it fully due to the scar tissue set against it. She’s never had much reason to take in his features as anything more than the face of their enemy. 

His gaze is still steely and untrusting. In this light, his scar looks violently red and painful. He asks after her offer with a voice that cracks, though he doesn’t seem to pay that any heed. His hair is short but growing in, and he’s traded out his Fire Nation attire for earthly green and brown robes. He looks so different from when they last saw him. 

He looks so… young.

It’s all a little bizarre.

“Be careful, Katara,” Sokka insists from behind her, though when she glances back, his focus is on Iroh, a complicated expression playing on his features. Aang is staring at him, too, eyes wide and verging on teary. She doesn’t yet know Toph very well, but Katara can tell her body is rigid, her feet tense as her toes curl into the dusty ground beneath them. Toph doesn’t know that Iroh has been their enemy. But Iroh also helped them at the North Pole, and again just now against that princess, Zuko’s sister, she supposes, with her calculating eyes and strange blue fire.

Katara nods but says nothing further. If Zuko was going to make a move against them, he could have done it when his sister vanished.

They had turned away from their futile attack against her, and he’d already been kneeling at his uncle’s side.

She approaches slowly, circling to the side opposite him. When she kneels and reaches for her waterskin, Zuko nearly growls and takes hold of the edge of Iroh’s sleeve tightly, like he might try to drag him away.

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Katara says, flush with indignation. The dirt beneath her chafes her knees even through her clothing. “I need space to heal.”

“I’m not moving, so forget it.”

Katara tilts her head and looks into his eyes as he glares back. He now looks every bit the angry, hateful prince that had tracked them around the world for months, but she can see something else filtering through his expression, too, something like fear.

She almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. Why should he be afraid of them?

“Fine,” she allows after a moment. “Just don’t get in the way.”

He nods tightly, and at the agreement, Katara opens her waterskin. She calls the water to her and sets it against Iroh’s the right side of his chest, his robes black and charred. Closing her eyes, she calls out to his chi and focuses her energy on it. She doesn’t know if she can do it, doesn’t know if Iroh is truly too far gone…

After a few long moments, his breathing evens, and Katara sighs. Across from her, Zuko’s features soften just a fraction, but when she meets his eyes, somehow, she knows exactly what they both are thinking, united in nothing but this.

It doesn’t change anything, Katara's thoughts insist as her friends draw closer. Zuko tenses again. It can’t.

#zutaramonth2024 #atla #zutara #my fic #zutara month day 1: reluctant allies #trigger: violence. #trigger: injury. #trigger: trauma responses. #jic #advenures in fic writing #i'm a worse case kid / in a plague pit town #me saying i wasn't going to do this. y'know. like a Liar #zuko #katara #zuko & iroh #aang #toph #iroh #sokka #my intricate tagging system falling apart rip #the chase #if i decide i like these enough i might clean them up and put some of them on ao3. We Will See #azula #i saw the prompt and thought hm. might as wel play around in the ep that’s already swimming in Brief Reluctant Allies

[hainfulcupid]

Obsessed with this motherfucker so im gonna drop a few random headcanons about him

ALL ARE SFW AND JUST SILLY STUFF ☝️ im not used to sharing my headcanons publicly like this hyuck hyuck

there’s very little to go off of from this media since all we really have is a pilot with bare , and i MEAN BARE lore to go off of so a lot of this is really me filling in blanks becus im Insane .

> Nordic bunny’s planet has a robotic look to it, i think that he built it himself out of complete boredom along with its inhabitants (that he probably destroys too, out of boredom….)

> I like to think that his guitar strings function like cat whiskers, they aid him in vision and processing the world around him. They’ve definitely busted a few times during battle, causing him to be disoriented for a bit.

> Hates things that are vaguely shaped like snakes (do NOT BRING A CUCUMBER NEAR THIS MAN)

> purrs….meows…does all those silly cat sounds but they’ve got an electric guitar sound effect

> has retractable claws, they do wonders for a man needs a quick escape route !!!!

> related to the thing above, oh he so absolutely adores scratching things up . has the biggest scratching post ever .

> He’s lonely, not like he intends to be but his personality is offputting to many, one of those people who you have a hard time reading into the things they say because every word that comes out of his mouth always sounds insulting. naturally judgmental, thinks he has a keen eye for fashion despite wearing only undies.

> what is his deal with the undies anyways ? i think he has sensory issues so he wears very minimal clothing thinking he’s serving absolute cunt but no ones ever told him how dorky he looked, and if any of his minions did well…..lets just say They’re no longer with us.

> definitely has a weird way of giving gifts…you know how cats bring you things they’ve hunted? well he’s no different, he wants THAT praise he wants you to tell him how competent he is.

> his tail is an indicator of his mood, follows the same rules of a cat .

LOOK AT HIM. TELL ME THIS ISNT TRUE.

> claims he can’t fucking stand emotional music, but listens to sad 80s rock . but no one will see that, they’ll see him as the dude who’s constantly blasting oldies metal classics .

> I AM A NORDIC BUNNY FANG HAVER TRUTHER . I JUST KNOW HED HAVE A TONGUE PIERCING TOO .

> he’s so reluctant to touch, he never knows if he fully enjoys it or not, you’ll be petting down his back and feel his back quiver almost like it’s trying to avoid your touch but he’s also - purring…he’s a confusing little guy…

> If he ever does manage to form something vaguely friendship like, he’d suck ass at managing the connection, oh you invite him to a party ? he sends you an image of himself stuck in the toilet with a text underneath saying “SOZZ . CANT GO. TOILET TROUBLEZ”

> that being said , not having a lot of experiences with relationships, he’d have an avoidant attachment style, he’d also. subconsciously be as unlikable as possible, he has no clue what defines being cool and likable he’s a little clung onto “be as cool and mysterious as possible”

> says “mrr?” instead of “hm?”

> Oh. in my mind he uses he/she pronouns . finds comfort in expressing femininity .

> I can’t see this guy having a preference for dating… he will take anyone who can break through the massive thick wall he puts up.

THATS ALL FOR NOW UHHH UHHHH

#nordicbunny #nordic bunny #shredforce #shred force #headcanons #i am cringe and i am free #GUH #beetlereetles

[skythighs]

Calista's Dream

Hi there, this is my first ever attempt at writing and posting anything on Tumblr. I won't lie it's a bit intimidating. However, I decided to give it a try. I love Feyd so much that I was compelled to go for it. This will be a series. I'm not sure how long yet. I wont be following the Dune storyline fyi. This part is in 3rd person but the rest will not be done this way, it just happened and I couldn't stop it lol.All of pictures from my collage are from pintrest and I don't claim them as my own I just put them together for a little vibe.

word count:1.9k

Introduction

10175 AG

“A girl! Your Grace, a healthy baby girl.” called Dr Yueh.

The rolling thunder was all the louder in the silent room. The Red Duke found himself confused, disappointed and yet joyous. He had begged Jessica for a son and yet here he stood father to a daughter. Jessica watched him closely from the birthing bed. She was covered in sweat and utterly relieved her duty was done. 

“Come name your daughter Your Grace.” Said Lady Jessica calmly.

Duke Leto walked across the room slowly and gracefully as if he didn't feel the floor falling out from under his feet. Jessica held the girl snuggly against her chest. The babe was resting peacefully; she hadn't even cried as she made her way into the world. 

“Is she well?” Inquired Duke Leto hesitantly. 

“She is quite healthy. Small but strong.” Answered the doctor. 

Jessica passed the child into his arms. Only once wrapped securely in his arms did she open her big gray eyes. His heart skipped a beat and he was overwhelmed with unconditional love for his daughter. Although she isn’t the son he asked for, she was perfect. His perfect daughter and he would cherish her until his dying day.

“Calista. Calista Atreides.”

“A lovely name.” Said Lady Jessica, smiling to herself.

“It means most beautiful, because she surely is the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. Thank you Jessica, for giving me more than I could have imagined.”

Calista Atreides came with one of the biggest storms in Caladan’s history and much like a storm she was the calm that inevitably followed. 

Leto happily announced her birth and named her his heir leaving many shocked at his decision. He could still have sons even if Lady Jessica wasn’t willing to give them to him, but he was content. Now that he had Calista he didn’t want anything. She was enough, she was a part of him and he was proud. His love for Jessica grew tenfold knowing that she had given him such a gift. 

Thufir Hawat was adamant the Duke reconsider naming his daughter as heir to House Atreides. He came up with endless possibilities of such a thing ending catastrophically whenever he tried to calculate a better outcome none came forward. 

“My Duke, she could be taken away and trained by the Bene Gesserit. She would not be a true Atreides then. She would be one of them.”

Leto considered this and simply informed Thufir his beloved daughter would never be taken from Caladan while there was breath in his body.

By 10185 The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam arrived on Caladan unannounced no less stating urgent business for Lady Jessica in the middle of the night. The Reverend mother wanted to lay eyes on the girl herself. For she could barely accept that Jessica defied her most beloved Duke.

After formalities and respects were paid. Gaius demanded to be brought to Calista Atreides.

Lady Jessica led her through the corridors silently. Neither of them spoke for they both knew the true meaning of this visit. This mere girl would bring forth the Kwisatz Haderach, and she must undergo proper training despite the Duke's wishes to keep her home.They reached the girls chambers and Jessica opened the door as quietly as possible. However when they looked upon her the child was not asleep. She was looking right at them from the comfort of her many blankets and pillows.

“Cali, there is someone you must meet.” Lady Jessica coaxed her from under the mountain of blankets.

Calista sat up and looked at the Reverend mother in the doorway. She felt a strong dislike for the old croon right away. Feeling such a strong aversion to the woman she tensed once she saw her step over the threshold into her bedroom. 

“You look like a viper ready to strike, child. Why?” Asked the old woman her crows feet deepening.

Cali looked at her mother with a question in her innocent brown eyes. Eyes that were once gray like Letos.

“Speak freely Calista. Lies will do you no justice here.”

“I saw you once before, in a dream..in a nightmare.”

Mohiam lifted her head, not surprised by the revelation.

“And what happened in this nightmare?”

“I only remember the start and the finish of the nightmare. You take me away from my home, from my father.”

Jessica stroked her daughter's thick wavy hair. Hair as black as Leto's own.

“What else?” prompted Jessica.

“I die. I die before my time.”

A deafening silence fell upon the three of them.

“How do you die?”

“Bloody and split open, before my child can take his first breath, before he can live.”

Jessica gasps. Calista never mentioned any such dream to her. She saw the boy, the Kwisatz Haderach, the one she was made to bring forth into the world. The poor girl was only ten years old, and yet she knew she would die in childbirth if taken by the sisterhood. 

“And this all stemmed from you being given formal training by the sisterhood? How do I know this isn’t some ploy for you to stay on Caladan.”

“Lies would do no justice here Reverend mother. If what I said was untrue you would know.”

The finality in the statement of a mere child felt too confounding, too absolute. At only ten years old, a babe to this infinite existence of time and space this child carried an air of understanding. 

The truth of the matter was Gaius Helen Mohiam intended on taking Calista this very night to begin training as a Bene Gesserit sister. At ten years old, she had already spent too much time with her parents on caladan when normally she would have been taken during infancy to assure the best outcome of her purpose. However, this was different. She was the Duke's heir, and she was the mother of the Messiah, and somehow, leaving Caladan this night would assure her doom and that of their long-awaited plans. Not only would she die in childbirth, but so would her son. 

“You may stay here child, your mother will train you herself, but you must know you will leave Caladan one day never to return.”

“My mother told me you can’t see the future.”

Ah, there it was the Atreides defiance. Mohiam thought and with that she returned to her no ship leaving Calista tucked away safely in her bed. Her training wasn’t worth the life of all that they had waited for. Jessica was skilled enough to train her here from the comfort of Caladan, it would do.

Calista Atreides was her father's daughter. She was much more Leto than Jessica in every way that counted. She was born an Atreides, and perhaps she would die that way too, but one thing was certain she would never be a part of the sisterhood.

That very same week Leto informed Gurney to begin training Cali in combat. Ten years old was plenty old enough to learn self defense.

“Okay little duchess I want you to mimic my movements as best you can. Like this. “ he demonstrated some simple stances and movements for her to follow. She did so with ease.

“Excellent form Cali, you're a natural. Now I want you to use the movements I've shown you and strike me here.”  he pointed to his padded chest. Small but mighty indeed she fought with everything she had. He didn't even have to coax it out of her. 

“Your father will be very proud to hear of your progress Cali.”

“When will we use swords Gurney?” He smiled at that and the large scar on his face rippled.

“One thing at a time little lady. One thing at a time.”

As the years went on Calista mastered hand to hand combat as well as sword fighting which was led by Duncan Idaho. The discipline needed for sword fighting didn't come as naturally as hand to hand but with time and practice she got there. Her small stature allowed her to move quickly and efficiently. Striking fast and moving away from danger was her usual tactic. 

Over the years she did train with her mother Lady Jessica in the arts of the sisterhood however her heart was not in it as it was with her combat training. Along with combat and Bene Gesserit skills she was taught history, linguistics, and politics at an extensive level. 

When she was just thirteen her father received an order from Emperor Shaddam IV stating she was to be betrothed to Feyd Fautha Harkonnen, the Na Baron of Giedi Prime. He was just one year her senior and already quite the capable Harkonnen if the rumors were to be believed. He was vicious for one so young and Leto feared what would become of his precious Calista. A knock on his study door broke him from his deep thoughts.

“Father, can I come in?”

“Come in Cali, there's something I want to discuss with you.”

His dark haired dark eyed daughter walked to him still in her training clothes. She was still small for her age but her eyes held a wisdom he could never understand. 

“I’ve just received word on your betrothal from the Emperor himself. You are to wed Feyd Rautha Harkonnen on your twentieth birthday. In just six short years I will have to part with you- only for a time.”

“Feyd Rautha. I’ve heard of him, he is my age ,and the Barons chosen heir over his elder brother Glossu Rabban.”

“Yes my darling girl. You are very well informed on these matters it seems.” He pulled her to his armrest so she could sit with him.

She put her small hand on his cheek.

“You look very troubled by this news father. Why?”

“The Emperor forcing my hand in this makes it feel as though you’re a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter.”

He squints his eyes as he looks at her. He wasn’t sure why he said such a thing to his own daughter but he couldn’t help being truthful at this moment, he would never lie to himself so he would grant her the same courtesy.

“I am no lamb, father. I am you. Feyd Rautha Harkonnen will have no choice but to treat me according to my station. I am a Duke's heir in my own right. I am your heir, your beloved Calista. Do not fear, fear is the mind killer.”

He smiled hearing her mirror her mothers words.

“You are me. I would like to increase your combat training. You’ve made incredible progress these last few years, but when you leave the comfort of your home I want to be certain no matter what the Harkonnen intend, you can hold your own.”

“Size doesn’t matter, skill matters, heart matters. Any man that mistakes me for a lamb will pay with his life.”

“Now you sound like Gurney.”

He kissed his daughter's forehead and sent her on her way. He had to send his reply to the Emperor. He would accept the betrothal with conditions of course. Feyd Rautha would court her properly and he would meet her family face to face on her home planet a month before the wedding. It was not much, but at least it was something.

#feyd rautha #harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha x oc #feyd rautha x atreides oc #dune part two #dune part 2 #Calista Atreides #Calista's Dream

[bisexualhomelander]

Tumblr user bisexualhomelander bringing you what it says on the tin.

Domestic May Prompt: Somebody is being wrong (?) on the internet. Pairing: Butchlander

"They're wrong."

"Mhm. Or how about you turn that thing off?"

"No, but they're wrong! This is... preposterous! William, look at it!" The phone is being shoved into his face, too close to read anything, making Billy go cross-eyed.

"I can't look if you shove it down my throat."

Homelander acquiesces and holds the phone at an acceptable distance. Billy blinks and begins to read. Homelander has dragged up a post on supespace.net, an unofficial platform for fans of Vought's heroes and heroines. Billy has used it himself in the past, not to make posts but to gather intel. The fans of these cunts, however misguided they may be, have a keen eye and can analyse paparazzi shots better than any CIA agent.

The post in question is titled Homelander is bi and was posted by a user named bbygirllander. Billy only reads the first few lines: This sounds weird, but hear me out, we stan a bi king. He skims the rest before landing on the top comment: He is literally a Nazi. Billy barks a laugh. "Okay, what's so bad about this?"

"Do you see this shit?"

"Nothing on there is news, luv."

"Not you, too!"

"You seem more upset about the bi thing than you were about that Nazi comment up here."

"That's old news. They've been saying this ever since-" He trails off. Billy will never understand how he can be genuinely grieving Stormfront. Surely he doesn't believe their love was ever real. If yes, the bleach must have gone to his Aryan little head. But Billy sees no use in upsetting him further, so he listens and keeps his thoughts to himself. "But I'm not bisexual. I'm not any of... that. This has the power to destroy me. The tabloids will pick it up. It's been the top post for..." He scrolls up. "For two days. There have been ten hero announcements from Godolkin since then, and they haven't even scratched most viewed."

"Okay." Billy tries to think of what to say. He feels a pang of sympathy. He'd been twenty once, nearly drinking himself into a coma when he'd realised he liked dick. And he'd just been a kid from the wrong side of the Thames that nobody gave a damn about. Not a mega star. "If anyone talks about it, just make a statement telling them they're being wrong on the internet."

Homelander's mind was seemingly a few steps ahead. "I need to make an account. And deter them. I need to make ten accounts. I need to post this on Voughtstagram with a bunch of cry-laughing emojis, laughing about how stupid they are being on the internet. I need to get ahead of this. I need to get ahead of this..."

Billy interrupts him before he can talk himself into a manic episode. "D'you want me to read you some of them comments?"

Homelander looks on morosely, but at least he's stopped talking. "No."

Billy reads. "It's not anyone's business. Just because you watch his films doesn't mean you own him. Here's another good one, Good for him if it's true, but we can't take it as fact. If he doesn't want to come out, he must have his reasons. Oh, I like this one. It's in response to someone stating you've only been with women. I didn't realise I was bi until I was in my sixties. There's no timeline. Maybe Vought doesn't want him to go public about it, I mean, they are kind of conservative, and his fans consist of rabid right-wingers. See, the people are all on your side."

Homelander blinks. "I don't want a public coming-out."

"I'm sure Maeve said the same before you outed her live on TV."

"That was different. She had a girlfriend."

Billy heaves a sigh.

"If I address the rumours, it means we will have to stay on the down-low," Homelander says. "You'll have to continue sneaking in through the staff entrance if you want to see me or Ryan. We'll have to be more careful about anyone seeing us because evidently it's happened."

"I'd be gone faster than you know what hit ya if you ever were to go public with us. You know that."

"What if Ryan sees this?"

"What if-? Ryan, who knows I practically live here three days a week, who sees your toothbrush next to mine in the bathroom? That Ryan? Luv, he ain't a toddler you can fool by telling him your good buddy Billy is having a slumber party with ya. He's twelve. He knows we're fuckin'."

Homelander just gives him a look and shrugs, suddenly silent. Billy knows that look, the wide eyes and helplessly tensed lips. Homelander is close to tears. "That's all well and good. But I'm not bi."

"Fine by me," Billy says and means it. "The people are right, it's not anyone's business. Not even mine. You don't have to call it that."

"So you agree with me."

Billy cocks his head.

"They're wrong on the internet."

Billy picks up Homelander's phone. He mindlessly scrolls through some more posts. "Oh, lovely. Homelander is a natural blonde, y'all are being mean. Now that's what I call wrong on the internet. Wait. Wait. Have you guys been timing the breaks he takes on-stage? I have a theory they're bathroom breaks because he has to pee more because his prostate is getting bigger-"

The shattering glass makes Billy realise the phone has gone out the window before he even understands it's no longer in his grip. A pair of lips is seeking his own in a way that would leave the fans bug-eyed.

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #my writing #cozy corner domaystic

[sea-owl]

Oh no sorry not the isekai AU. The AU where due to circumstances each of the Bridgerton’s lost their loves. An example I think Daphne lost Simon because she was too late to the dual and Anthony shot him in the shoulder. Simon left the country after that. All the Bridgerton’s lost their partners in similar ways (Anthony married Edwina and Kate left to go back to India, Penelope vanished after Colin found out she was Lady Whistledown etc.). Then somehow the siblings traveled back in time to Daphne’s entrance to society. I was thinking what if instead of keeping a cool head about everything and thinking about how they are going to approach their true loves slowly instead the siblings just snap.

I'm so sorry anon but I really don't know which au this is. It sounds like a good au, but if I wrote it out I can't find it. I have the vaguest guess but im unsure if it was one of mine or someone else's, but I have the vaguest memory of an ask that included a part that said Simon gifting Daphne a piece of jewelry that was actually an heirloom passed down to all Duchesses of Hastings before he left England but she was getting married to the prince instead. Again I don't know if that one was mine or someone else's, I feel like it might be @thekatebridgerton but I'm not 100% sure.

But we can start a new one!

So let's start with the bad endings.

Saphne: For this one I'm thinking the duel happened just a bit earlier. Anthony and Benedict knew that Daphne would go to Colin to get any information so they purposely gave him the wrong time for the duel. This led to Daphne arriving after Simon losing the duel and getting shot in the shoulder. Daphne tried to chase after him but her brothers dragged her home instead. Per their agreement Simon left the country after that. Daphne did end up getting married to the prince but she was never truly happy in that marriage, she was content at best with a few moment of happiness with her children here and there. She never did fall in love with the prince, and moving so far from her family did make things harder at times but like most things in her life Daphne learned to adapt to the cards that were handed to her.

Kathony: Anthony and Kate could never let themselves stop putting duty first. Anthony could also never get over his fear of dying young. In the end Anthony had married Edwina and Kate had left back to India. During their marriage Edwina and Anthony were cordial at best but when Edwina heard of her sister leaving a part of her blamed herself and another part blamed Anthony. They both did their duty and had one son, but after that they both came to an agreement where they would find pleasure and possibly happiness outside the marriage. So long as they were discreet. Edwina had met her true love in one scholarly Mr. Bagwell who she would later remarry once she was widowed. Anthony threw himself even further into the role as the viscount, though there were times he would look while ridding to see if a familiar rider would appear out of the mist just like she did all those years ago. Kate on her side did return to India and cut contact from her family. She bounced around from governess job to governess job, keeping herself busy so she does not dwell on thoughts of the past, and people she loves but would prefer not to remember for her own emotional sake.

Benophie: The news of Sophie's arrest had been brought to Benedict's attention later that day. Had he been a little bit faster, or had the news got to him just a little bit sooner, he would have been there when Posy took the blame for the item Sophie was said to have stolen. Araminta, who was losing control over both Sophie and Posy did not like that and both ended up getting sent to Australia where they stayed after their sentence was done. While they could have gone back to England if they raised the money for it neither wanted to risk facing Araminta again. They ended up changing their names when starting over. Benedict always kept a close eye on any news of former convicts returning to England. Praying any of them will lead him back to Sophie.

Polin: Things were getting heated on both sides of Penelope's life. The hunt for Lady Whistledown continued, becoming even more intense. More guards were haunting the print shop where she used to go, and she has heard more than one whisper of spies keeping eyes out in ballrooms. Meanwhile as Penelope someone had found out about her Irish Catholic heritage from Portia's side. Prudence and Philippa were spared due to them being married already and Felicity was still young enough they could hide her away until it blew over but Penelope and Portia took the hardest blow. Despite the fact that Portia converted years ago for her survival and Penelope was never raised catholic. To be honest she should not have been that surprised when Colin finally caught her in that church, dressed as a maid. They argued, screamed at one another, which turned into a very intense kiss. After Colin said he needed to think. Penelope had thought he hated her now and surely he would turn her in? Colin legit just needed a moment to think, he was given a lot of information in one day, and he was already protective over Penelope when news other family broke out, now it was just intensified. He was going to propose marriage the next day. What Colin did not know that the column Penelope was going to send out would be her last one. She later disappeared into the night, and he spent years looking all over the world for her, chasing down any lead, not knowing that she had hidden herself away in America.

Philoise: After her conversation with Anthony, Eloise lets her fear of commitment win and decides to return to London without marrying. Phillip takes the rejection gracefully, quoting that he did invite her to see if they suit. They did not, and he was not going to push her. Eloise's heart broke, though, when the twins asked why she was leaving tears in their eyes. In London, life continued on, Eloise found things to occupy her time, movements that she wanted to help move forward, and while she enjoyed pushing for change, she still felt her life was rafher lonely. She was never truly happy in London, never was, and often found herself itching to run just like when she was younger. Then, one day, many years later, during a society event, she would rather not be at a Sir Crane was announced. Eloise was taken aback because her Sir Crane wouldn't be caught dead in London. And it wasn't her Sir Crane, rather it the son of her Sir Crane. Oliver didn't say much to Eloise but did stop by to call on her the next day. He gave her a bouquet of medow cranesbill. "A final gift from my father," Oliver told her.

Franchael: After the death of John, both Francesca and Michael had mental breakdowns. All Michael could think to do was run while Francesca dug her heels in at Kilmartin estate and kept it running. When they reunited years later, both refused to talk about John and what happened to their friendship, despite the fact that's what they needed to do. Being reunited, Francesca became aware of this sexual tension that has been simmering between her and Michael. Still upset that her husband and unborn child were taken from her, she found herself wanting to walk down a wicked path. Well widows are more ignored by society so why doesn't she have some fun? She falls into bed with Michael. They still don't talk. Not only is Francesca discovering her physical intrest in Michael but some feelings she rather ignore are emerging too. They still don't talk. Francesca discovers that Michael has malaria and has attacks from it every so often. They still won't talk. One of these attacks ends up taking Michael's life and Francesca ends up right back where she was all those years ago. The man she loves is dead and she's pregnant. Only this time Francesca has to hide away, but her baby makes it. Thanks to Janet and Helen they organize papers so the boy is considered legitimate and the new earl of Kilmartin. Francesca loves her son sometimes she wishes his father were there so she could tell him she loved him too.

All the siblings have regrets in their lives by the time they pass on. None of them ever really found that love match Violet used to describe what she had with Edmund. Oh, they had their great loves, despite how fleeting they were. Some did marry, some chose to remain unwed. But none of them expected to wake up on their past selves bodies. After poking around they discovered the year is 1813, Daphne is in her on third year in the marriage mart and the Duke of Hastings has just passed, leaving his title to his only son.

Several thoughts hit at once.

Simon was due to return to England soon. Kate would follow a year later. Sophie was currently trapped with Araminta. Penelope was debuting this year. Phillip was currently at Cambridge. Michael was in the army.

Their loves were so close. They lost them once but never again.

#look if i'm coming up with bad endings i'm gonna go with the worst case scenario my mind can think of that don't fall into certain areas #gotta give a reason for them to snap #I'm unsure for the others if someone wants to do their bad endings be my guest #bad endings au #second change au #bridgerton #polin #kathony #benophie #philoise #franchel #saphne