#hello world Mary is back

[xxcallmemaryxx]

Ghouls x GN reader

(who is suffering from horrid cramps)

(Warning: reader in a lot of pain, talks of nausea and throwing up. But nothing in detail.)

Our beautiful gentle giant, Mountain, is well prepared for this. He basically lives in the abbeys greenhouse, he is like an encyclopaedia of plant knowledge. What balms and rubs and oils he can make to help you out, you best believe he has an abundance of them stocked up. I like to think if this is a regular occurrence then Mountain has a little cupboard that keeps these remedies safe and sound for you. For whenever you need them. He takes this seriously, and he will put them on you himself if you’ll let him. Mountain absolutely tricks you into letting him rub one of the mixtures on your stomach, (you insist you can do it yourself and he knows this, but he doesn’t let up easily so he prepared to just give in) and so there the two of you lay, on your bed, as Mountain slowly massages an oil into your skin to help soothe the cramps. As much as he hates seeing you in pain, he really loves doting on you. He will make you his self made herbal teas to help as well, and he will 100% spend every minute with you making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. You’re not to move from the bed without him, not that the cramps would let you anyways…

Aether is pretty much the same in the sense he spends most of his time with you researching ways to help you feel as comfortable as possible. He keeps a heat pack on standby, he has a cupboard stocked with pain killers and anti nausea medicine and he even has Mountain make you some kind of rub to help relax the muscles where your cramps are. All in all, Aether stays calm. He knows that if he started freaking out about you being in pain then that would just make you feel worse. Of course he absolutely hates every second of it, and there’s a pit of worry and anxiety that sits at the bottom of his stomach and eats away at him throughout the duration of your cramps, but he knows you’ll be okay soon and he knows that he has to stay calm and collected for you. What kind of help would he be if he was outwardly worried the whole time? Aether likes knowing that he can be a rock for you, to keep you grounded and steady when you need it. He takes great pride in knowing you allow yourself to rely on him during this time of pain and vulnerability, and he would rather send himself back down to hell than ever betray that.

The only time Dew has ever cursed the unholy Lord below, was when he experienced this with you for the first time. You were stuck in bed, such intense nausea you needed to keep a large bucket next to you incase you couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time and you couldn’t even keep your eyes open because of how exhausted you were from the pain of the cramps. He honestly thought for a moment that you were dying and he panicked and ran to Copia for help. It took him a while to come around, and even now after being with him for ages, and going through this multiple times whilst with him, he still panics. He kind of hovers around the room, he’s unusually quiet and it’s like he’s too scared to touch you incase he somehow makes the pain worse. He gets angry for you. Angry that you, his lovely human, has to deal with this so often. He wants to take your pain, he wants to take it all away and keep it to himself and let you stay comfortable and happy. Dew will keep you as comfortable as possible, bringing you food and water so you don’t have to get up, he does not step foot out of your shared room the whole time until it’s over. His eyes stayed glued to you the whole time ready to do whatever you need him to do.

Swiss doesn’t panic when your cramps start, for he already knew it was going to happen. He can literally smell it on you, on the way your body changes and adjusts. He picks up on your body language and the way that changes during the few days beforehand. You like to tease him a little and call it his “ghoul powers”, and while yes being a ghoul has a lot to do with it, Swiss has just become so accustomed to you and your body that he just knows. So by the time the cramps have started he is mentally prepared. For the most part he lets you sleep and rest as much as possible, he understands how exhausting the constant pain is. Only waking you up to give you some more pain killers once the previous ones have worn off, and to keep you hydrated. He still makes sure you’re eating, but he never puts anything too heavy on your plate. Just incase you’re not able to keep it down, Swiss will give you lighter meals and snacks so you at least have something. During the night he really just loves to sleep next you, keeping a protective tail wrapped securely around your waist, for his own comfort to still have some kind of contact with you, and to remind you that he is right there next to you should you need him. (He doesn’t wanna cuddle up to you and risk accidentally rolling on top of you during the night) (it’s happened before) (he almost didn’t get back in bed after).

During the beginning, Rain was really no help at all. Of course you knew the things that worked for you, but Rain was just a nervous mess. The image of you in so much pain you couldn’t even move got stuck inside his head for days after, it really upset him to see you going through this. After a little while he realised he needed to snap out of it and he came to you asking you to tell him everything you needed and wanted him to do for the next time so he is better prepared and can actually be of some help to you. It took him a few months to really fall into the routine, but eventually it became like a second nature to him. He knew what positions to help you lay in to decrease the cramp intensity, he knew what painkillers worked best for you and he kept you as comfy as he possibly could. He really enjoyed knowing that you could confidently count on him when you needed him. He likes to spoil you a little bit too… he steals Mountains fluffy blanket for you, he raids the abbey kitchens and risks his tail just to bring you back some of the special snacks that are kept aside specially for the papas, he even learns how to give massages for when you’re feeling up for it. Anything he can do to help you relax and stay settled, consider it done.

Phantom freaked you out the first time he experienced this with you. After being summoned not that long ago, obviously he still had a lot to learn about humans and how they function, so you can only imagine the real fear that would have struck him when he saw how much pain you were in. It took you a minute to explain it to him, between horrid cramps and almost unbearable nausea, you did the best you could… but clearly Phantom went into freak out mode and almost lost his head trying to pull things together to look after you. You had about 7 glasses of ice water sitting at your bedside table, he panic cleaned the toilet incase you needed to empty your stomach into it (because send him back to hell if you even think for one whole second that the toilet isn’t going to be spotless before you even get near it) he ransacked the cupboard for your extra blankets and made a makeshift nest for you to lay in and throughout the entire time you weren’t well Phantom did not sleep a wink. He sat on the floor in front of you and watched you like a hawk while you slept just incase he needed to spring into action. He settled down a lot after the cramps were gone and you were back to your normal self again, but expect it to be like that every single time. He just loves you and seeing you in pain is hard for him.

#hello world Mary is back #and happy new year my loves #the band ghost #ghostband #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghoul x reader #mountain x reader #aether ghoul #aether ghoul x reader #aether x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghoul x reader #dewdrop x reader #sodo ghoul #sodo ghoul x reader #sodo x reader #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss x reader #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x reader #rain x reader #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom x reader #mary’s headcannons

[fuckyeahkagepro]

Ayano no Koufuku Riron - cover + PV by NIJISANJI

#tateyama ayano #ayano no koufuku riron #ayano's theory of happiness #ayanos theory of happiness #ayanos happiness theory #fyeahkageproposts #a: nijisanji #a: inui toko #s: ayanos theory of happiness #ayanos theory of happiness: covers #(the Nijisanji covers are being officially promo'd by Jin on Jin's twitter for 0815 celebration) #(but I didn't see this one lrt'd yet) #(I thought we were going to get LTM today going by the Music Route chronological song order but it's Ayano's!!!) #(Because yeah Toumei Answer and Gunjou Rain got skipped {Toumei was originally album exclusive and Gunjou was bundled with}) #(that small Mary's Imaginary World manga chapter spinoff back then) #(It should be noted these are COVERS and by V TUBERS so the charas depicted are the V TUBER PEOPLE COVERING THE SONG) #(Thus she looks like Ayano here but it's a PERSONALIZED CHARA and NOT MEANT BY JIN AS AYANO) #(Just getting that out of the way NOW but YES Similar PV imageries) #(OK AND MEANWHILE THE PAPER CRANE AT THE END IS DEPICTED AS RED IN THIS??? HELLO??? IM SOBBING????!?!?!??!) #(I wasn't sure if I was going to link to all the covers yet bc YEAH THERE'S A LOT but Jins been lrtng them so if you follow Jin you'll see! #('eVERYONE S H U T U P AYANOS THEORY OF HAPPINESS IS PLAYING AND I AM pROBABLY SOBBING') #(I found it because it came up on my Y.T recommended feed so HERE U GO) #(I DO think it's {still} interesting to see what imageries got included in this cover ... considering Jin is officially promo'ng)

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

Six thirty in the morning might be your favorite time of day. 

It’s the before.

Before anyone else comes in, before the morning rush, before the chime of the front door’s bell, before the shop is filled with lines of people, before it all upends you.

At six thirty in the morning, you sit in the back, perched on the prep table, with a fresh cup of coffee. You leave the side door open, screen separating you from the world, fresh air mixing with the smell of strawberry basil scones, cinnamon coffee cake and mini kolaches, fruited with whatever jam you’ve managed to throw together. Steam rises, semolina spills, the sun dawns, and the world wakes… all well after you’ve had your breakfast.

This corner of the city is busy, and the shop always hums like a well-oiled machine in the dregs of a rush, the front counter team churning out specialty coffees and teas effortlessly. It’s cyclical, similar faces every day, morning commuters rushing in and out, locals settling in a nook with their laptops and lattes, people swinging in for a quick bite. You hide in the back, usually, elbow deep in sudsy warm water with your mountain of dishes, answering the occasional shout of 'do we have more of-' and 'just sold the last-'

This morning in particular, cranberry orange scones, pumpkin muffins and mini quiches are the only things left cooling on the speed racks, waiting patiently for their turn to be placed in the display case, an endless cycle of replenishment lasting until the rush dies down, morning fading into afternoon, triple shot monstrosities turning into decaf coffees. 

It’s laborious, this routine. Five, six, sometimes seven days a week, going to bed with the sun, rising before it. Your wrists ache from rolling dough, cutting dough, scraping dough. Your back weeps when you lift the bowl from the mixer stand every morning, and your joints fare no better. You need new boots, and new insoles for your new boots, and probably a new standing mat, though you know your boss will never go for it. 

You’re tired.

The exhaustion settles into your bones easily today, wearing you down until you’re allowing your eyes to close, wilting atop the butcher’s block- 

The shop phone rings. 

You heave yourself down and swing through the double doors to the front, scrambling for the classic corded receiver, nearly fumbling it in your hands. 

“Hello?” Shit. You always forget to answer with the shop’s name. You’re not exactly the customer facing part of the operation. “Galaxy’s.” You correct and… wait. 

There’s no response. 

You think you can hear someone breathing, something rustling, but it’s too faint and difficult to make out. 

“’Lo?” You try again, but still, there’s silence. It’s an unending moment, you on one end… who knows what on the other, and you hold your breath, straining to hear, to listen. 

The line clicks dead in the next second. 

Odd. 

The shop girl is chewing gum. 

You’ve told her a million times not to chew gum when she’s working the counter, but clearly, she’s never heard of norovirus, and you’re not the boss, or the owner, so being the broken record only gets you so far. 

“There’s someone out front to see you.” She snaps it between her front teeth, and your molars grind together like stone. 

“Who?” You toss a clean towel on the stainless steel table in the middle of the kitchen with a frown. You don’t really get visitors here, most of your friends are in the same industry, and either work the line too late to be up in time to even get coffee somewhere, or are already at work, buried beneath a bain-marie and the never-ending sound of a ticket printer. 

There’s dried, caulked dough caked to your fingers, shoved up underneath your nails, and you brush them self-consciously against the ratty old apron stretched across your waist. 

The surprise lingers on your tongue, and then explodes when you spot the massive dusky blonde from the other day, the one who was with the guy who split the coffee all over your favorite dress. He’s too tall, and too broad, and too imposing, everything in your sense of self-preservation screaming at you to run when he notices you approaching, gleam of a predator sparkling in his eyes.  

Still, somewhere, tucked away, it thrills you, the idea of them, the balancing act, two halves of a whole. He’s etched from stone, strong and steady, while his partner is saporous, vibrant, and riotous, crystal blue eyes sparkling in the mid-day sun. 

You wonder what they're like. What they talk about. What they do.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Your skin prickles once you fall into his orbit, immobilized by the molten toffee pooling around his irises. You float for a second, tracing his knife’s edged jaw, the fullness of his lips, imperfect pieces puzzled together to make a masterpiece, and then crash back to earth quickly, realizing you’re standing in front of him… staring. 

“Uh. Hi.” What is he doing here? How did he know where to find you?

“Sorry to barge in on you at work.” He starts immediately, wallet appearing from his back pocket like a magic trick. “Wanted to make sure we settled up.” Thick fingers hold a folded nest of notes, and you stare down at them, slowly processing what he means.

Cash? 

“Oh, I… I have… venmo. Or we could use apple pay, you didn’t have to come all the-“ 

“Don’t have venmo.” His mouth tilts, and you go with it, head listing to the side like a wayward buoy. “This is easier.” He pushes it into your hand, peeling your fingers back to enclose the money in your palm, heat sparking up your spine. 

“How did you know where I worked?” You blurt, unable to keep it at bay any longer. The question singes, settles uncomfortably in the sparks between you. 

“Saw you in the back yesterday, when we were in for a cuppa.” Oh. Suspicion sheds, snakeskin left behind on a cold, dusty trail, suspension of disbelief settling in the back of your mind. Sure. After all, this is where you ran into them last week, on your day off. They do come here. 

“Well. Thanks.” 

“It’s our pleasure. Hope the stain came out okay.” 

“Oh, yeah. It’s… still at the cleaners.” This is absolutely false, but he doesn’t need to know that. The spare bills will probably go towards your energy bill, and the ruined dress will go in the trash. 

It is what it is. 

“Couldn’t help but notice when I was comin’ through the parking lot that the back door is open.” His voice swoops low, dropping into a rumble, and you blink, lips parting. 

“Oh, um y-yeah. I like the breeze.” He shakes his head, a simple rejection, leaving you spinning. 

“City’s not the safest right now, yeah?” Oh, yeah. Of course, you knew. Rival factions of organized crime were leaving a red sea of bodies in their wake all over town, a new murder popping up in the headlines nearly every week. 

But you were safe. You were fine. Galaxy’s had never been stained with the bloody touch of any of them, and you took it as fact. Permanence. 

You agree reluctantly, watching the storm clouds roil on across his expression before evaporating. You shrug, hands clutched in your apron, doubt and skepticism clear on your face.

His expression shutters. His eyes turn cold.   

His thumb and forefinger dart through the air, latching onto your chin. 

You freeze. You should tug away, jerk backwards, yell and scream and hiss, but all you can do is stand there, caught in a trap and trembling as he leans forward to murmur in your ear. 

“Lock the door, little doe.” 

#peaches writes #guess the au? #ghoap x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #still written on the phone so #mind the mistakes

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shirt Swap V

Magdalena Eriksson x Child!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö + Zećira Mušović x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: After the Denmark-England game

By the time you've been returned to Magda and the Swedish girls, you're high on sugar, still wearing Keira Walsh's shirt and finding everything unbelievably funny.

Pernille dumps you in Magda's arms, kisses her softly before hurrying off.

Magda looks at you with wide eyes.

"Where's Rocky?" You ask her.

"What?" She says," No hello for your Morsa?"

You shrug. "Hi, Morsa. Where's Rocky?"

She sighs. "Up in our room. Did you have fun at the match?"

You nod, pulling on your shirt. "Keira Walsh gave me her jersey, see?"

"I can see. And what's this one?"

There's another jersey bundled up in your hand and Magda has an inkling of whose it is.

"Mary Earps!" You chirp," She's England's keeper! She's going to win keeper of the year."

Magda laughs, hefting you a bit higher as she makes her way back into the dining hall. "Is she now?"

You nod. "She is. I know she is."

"You used to know Earps, you know. When you were little."

You frown as Morsa sits down at her table with Frido and Zećira. "No, I didn't."

"Yes you did. Earps used to play with your Momma at Wolfsburg. The same time as Caro did and you remember Caro."

"I don't remember Mary."

"That's okay." Morsa starts to place some food onto your plate. "You were very, very little. I'm still surprised you remember Caro so well."

"Caro's cool," You insist," She scores goals like Momma and talks like Ingrid."

"And Mary isn't?"

"She's cool!" You insist," But I didn't know I knew her when I was very little."

"I've got pictures." Morsa shows you pictures sent from Momma when you were younger.

You were a pudgy baby, you think. Your cheeks are full and your head is kind of big but Morsa's right. There's lots of pictures of you and Mary Earps.

She looks younger too, like you, but she is holding you and she is smiling.

You think for a moment. "Can I wear her shirt please?"

Moster Frido laughs. "I thought Keira Walsh is your favourite player in the world. Are you telling me you'll swap her shirt for someone else's?"

You rolls your eyes. "Keira Walsh isn't my favourite player in the world. My favourite player in the world is Zećira."

Zećira reaches out for a high five that you happily give her.

"Oh, silly me," Frido laughs," But Keira Walsh is your second favourite though. Are you sure you want to swap her shirt for Earps'?"

You give her another condescending look that really has Frido wondering if you were really Magda's because the expression was all Pernille.

"They're only shirts, moster," You say, patting her hand in a way that somehow makes Frido feel like a little child," I don't have to wear them forever."

Zećira snickers. "Yeah, Frido, she doesn't have to wear them forever."

Morsa laughs but helps you change right at the table as you cram food into your mouth.

"Can I wear this one to bed?" You ask her when your head pops through the neck hole and she laughs.

"You're asking me but I don't think you're actually asking me, are you?"

You give her a toothy grin and she ruffles your hair.

"Momma says it's always polite to ask."

"Yes, you can wear Earps' shirt to bed."

You go back to your food, interspersed with accounts of the game and how worried you were when Keira Walsh went down with her knee.

"Morsa," You say randomly," Can Rocky sleep in bed with me?"

Frido and Zećira start laughing, almost hysterically, at the stricken look on Magda's face at your question.

"No, princesse," She says," You can't sleep in bed with Rocky."

"That's okay," You reply," I was only asking to be polite."

Magda chokes on her drink, suddenly feeling out of depth in her parenting here. None of the books ever covered what to do when your child was asking (or really telling) you about sleeping with her pet rock.

"Princesse," She says," I don't-"

"That's a great idea!" Zećira butts in with a grin that makes Magda's eye twitch in outrage," Why don't we go bring Rocky down here and show him your new shirts!"

You quickly wiggle out of your seat and hold your hand out to Magda. "Keycard, please, Morsa."

"No," Magda says, still scrambling to keep in control of the situation," You're not bring the rock down here."

You shrug and turn to Frido. "Keycard, please."

Frido, the traitor, hands over the keycard and you skip off with Zećira to grab Rocky.

#woso x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #zecira musovic x reader #zecira musovic #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

[13uswntimagines]

Big Emotions (Alessia X Leah X toddler!R)

Request: In the Arsenal game vs Manchester United, R has some big emotions about the crowd booing her Mama (Alessia), while shes sitting with Leah in the stands because shes not back from her ACL yet.

Warnings: None. This is a cute kidfic.

Pt. II

More in this universe- here

You tucked your face tightly into your Mama’s neck with a groan, the Batman blanket draped over your body like a little tent protecting you from the biting wind and camera flashes as the team made its way off the bus and into old Trafford. 

It wasn’t that Alessia was hiding you from the world, the fans definitely knew about you and loved to chatter about how adorable you were, but she always did her best to keep your face off of the internet. 

Finding where you lived, and where you went to preschool would be far too easy for someone who had Ill intentions for her to risk it. 

Arsenal and her teammates had agreed and refrained from putting your face on their official social media. Though there were a few of you in a Batman mask on Ella and Mary’s pages, and a couple with some well-placed stickers on the Arsenal official account, she had been successful in protecting your identity. 

And the fans seemed to respect her wishes too. 

So your appearance in your Batman blanket tent was one that the fans were used to. 

What no one was used to was how grumpy you were. 

The bus ride from London to Manchester had been long, and rather difficult if Alessia did say so herself.

It was an extension of the already challenging week without her girlfriend that the two of you were trying to navigate. You didn’t take kindly to breaks in your routine, and since your move to London, your mother’s girlfriend Leah had become a large part of that routine. 

You were nearly as attached to her as you were to Alessia, and you hadn’t taken well to her absence. You were unable to understand that she was just away on business and that she hadn’t abandoned you and your mama. 

The week had been peppered with sporadic FaceTimes that you had no interest in and a lot of crying when your typical routines were broken. 

The only reprieve had been your excitement for the game between Arsenal and Manchester United at your favorite stadium, Old Trafford. 

You had been so excited to see Mary and Ella that you had refused to sleep after your bedtime story, even after she pulled you into the big bed she normally shared with Leah since the move to London. 

Then you hadn’t been impressed by how early she had to wake you up, and were rather uncooperative as she got you dressed, flat out refusing breakfast because they weren’t the mini pancakes Leah usually made you on travel days. 

You were miserable by the time you got to the bus, and then you had been forced to sit still for nearly 4 hours. You hadn’t been interested in any of the snacks she brought, any of the movies on your iPad, or interacting with her Arsenal teammates (even Viv, Beth, and Katie which surprised her). The only reprieve had come when she finally coaxed you into a nap about 30 minutes before the bus pulled into the stadium. 

“Easy love,” She hummed, bouncing you lightly as she stepped off the bus, flashing a grin towards the waiting crowd while trying to balance you and her bag. 

“Let me take that,” Katie said, grabbing Alessia’s kit bag from her. “You just worry about getting the bug inside,” 

She nodded towards the Irish captain in thanks, bringing her now free hand up to cup the hidden back of your head as you shifted anxiously against her again at the cheering of the fans. 

She sent them another smile, but forwent going to say hello, and headed down the tunnel instead. 

The last thing she needed was a full-blown meltdown, and with how loud the fans were and how cranky you were, she knew that’s exactly what would happen. 

“We’ll get to the changing room, and you can finish your nap in your cubby, alright?” She said, keeping her voice soft, her feet tapping as the crowd noise faded, blocked by the walls of the stadium. “And then you get to see Mazza and Ella,”

“Weah,” You mumbled into her neck, your voice muffled by her skin, your blanket tent, and the stuffed animal clutched under your arm. 

“I know you want Leah,” She sighed, rounding the corner to the hallway that held the visiting team changing room and showers. 

She wanted Leah too. 

While she had been single when she had you and she knew how to be a single mom, things were so much harder than they were with Leah. 

The defender had been part of your life since you were barely a year old, and Alessia had gotten used to her help throughout their 2-year relationship. Even when she was in Manchester, Leah had been an active participant in helping Alessia raise you. 

Things were so much easier when they could tag team things like breakfast and keep you entertained. It was one of the selling points of moving to Arsenal. 

More time for the three of you to be a family.

“But I’m sure the equipment staff will get you a nice warm sippy of milk, and we can relax until I play,” She continued, nodding towards Stinia as she held the changing room door open for the two of you. 

She thought you would perk up at the mention of warm milk, something they were trying to limit to just before bedtime, but you only sniffled against her neck. 

“I think our visitor will help too,” Stinia said as she passed, tilting her head towards the locker that the staff always set up for you with blankets and snacks, and a jersey of your own. 

Alessia followed her eyes, her shoulders immediately relaxing at the sight of her blonde girlfriend. 

“Oh thank god,” She breathed, crossing the room to stand in front of her locker.

Leah met her halfway, pulling you both into her arms the second she was close enough. “Hey loves,” 

“Hey,” Alessia sighed, leaning into the woman and accepting a very tame kiss. “Missed you,”

“I missed you both too, so much,” Leah said, her expression soft. 

While she loved her job and the opportunities it afforded her, she had grown rather attached to the little family unit the three of you had created. 

She quite missed the way you cuddled up to her in the mornings while she watched cartoons with you, and helped you get ready for bed. It was made even more excruciating by how little interest you showed in interacting with her on FaceTime, going so far as to hide under the couch so you could escape the phone. 

The only reprieve had been the photos Alessia sent her of you and your stuffed turtle cuddled up in a nest of her sweatshirts, and your refusal to leave the house unless you were wearing one that smelled like Leah. 

Today she knew Alessia had wrapped you in one of her owls England ones. 

“Tough morning?” Leah asked when you didn’t pull your head out from your blanket tent to greet her. 

“You have no idea,” Alessia sighed, beginning to rock again to help settle you. “We’re in a very grumpy mood today,”

Leah made a low noise, stepping a little closer, tilting her head around to look at the opening to your little blanket cave, and laying a very gentle hand on the center of your back. “Hey snuggle bug,”

You shifted in Alessia’s hold, peeking out from under your blanket, the head of your stuffed turtle just visible under your chin. “Weah?”

“Yeah sweetie,” She smiled gently at your bed head. “Do you wanna come to me so mama can get ready? I’ve got your cubby all nice and cuddly for you,”

“No,” You mumbled, your fist tightening in Alessia’s shirt. “m comfy,”

Both women frowned. 

They expected you to cling to Leah the moment you saw her, she tended to be your go-to on game days, and you had been relentless in your desire to see her for the last week. 

“Ok,” Leah agreed, rubbing your back to hopefully help you stay settled. “Do you want to continue your nap?”

You shook your head, resting your cheek back on your Mama’s shoulder. The way you blinked heavily at her told her a different story, but she didn’t mention it. 

“Alright,” Leah hummed, running her fingers through your wild curls. 

Your eyes slid closed, and she shared another look with Alessia. 

“Let’s go to your cubby,” Alessia sighed, rocking you as she made her way over to the bench that was all set up for you with blankets and two jerseys hanging. 

She gently pulled your head from her neck and settled you into the little nest that had been created for you. You pulled your Batman blanket tightly around you, snuggled deeply into the pile of blankets, and pulled the hood of your England jersey over your head, tucking your nose into the collar that smelled like Leah. 

You hugged your stuffed turtle, Squirt close to your chest, and let your eyes slide closed. 

Maybe you would finish your nap. 

******

“Hey love bug, wake up,” 

Gentle hands rubbed your back, and you lazily blinked up at Leah’s voice. 

“Warm-ups are about to start,” She continued, squatting in front of your little cubby. “Do you want to wear your jersey?” 

You shook your head, your little hands coming up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Alright,” Leah agreed, reaching up to brush your wild curls out of your eyes. “Does Squirt want his jersey?”

You yawned, thinking about it for a very long second before nodding. 

Leah smiled widely at you, reaching above you to the two extra jerseys hanging in your cubby, specifically designed for your favorite stuffed friend. 

“Does he want to wear mine or Mama’s?” She asked, waiting patiently as your eyes flickered between them. 

It often took you a few minutes to make big decisions like whose jersey you would wear. 

“Mazza,” You mumbled. 

The corners of Leah’s lips pulled downward. She wasn’t sure that Alessia had packed the turtle-sized Earps jersey that was a staple at Lionesses games. “I’m not sure we have that one bug. Can you pick mine or mama’s?”

You pouted, tucking your face into Squirt’s shell and shaking your head. 

“Ok love,” Leah sighed, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I have a sippy for you if you would like to watch warmups?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you rubbed your nose into squirt's soft body as you thought it over. 

You did love to watch Mama play, and they didn’t let you drink warm milk unless it was bedtime. 

“Otay,” You said finally, holding out your arms for Leah to pick you up. 

Her smile returned, as she ran her hand through your wild curls, and lifted you, squirt and the Batman blanket still wrapped around you into her arms. 

You immediately tucked your face into her neck, squishing your stuffed turtle between you, as she tucked your blanket more tightly around you. 

You hated jackets, and the old England sweatshirt you were wearing was not sufficient to keep you warm on its own. 

“Mazza and El?” You asked into her skin, practically melting into her as she made her way out of the changing room and down the tunnel, nodding at some of the staff as she passed. 

Leah hummed. “They’ll be out there too, but I think we’re closer to the Arsenal bench,” 

You yawned, a big dinosaur yawn as she stepped out into the stadium, waving at a few fans as she got settled in the seat just behind the bench that the training staff had set up for the two of you. 

“See after?” You asked, turning your head so you had a good view of the pitch. 

“Definitely,” Leah agreed, passing you a warm red and blue sippy cup filled with milk. 

Your eyes found your mama, running next to Viv near the center of the pitch, and you followed them as you sucked on your favorite beverage, relaxing into the defender's hold. 

Leah rubbed your back, bouncing her knees very gently. It was adorable how you waved at the girls on the pitch, no matter what team it was, and how they waved back, nudging whoever was next to them to point you out. 

You got particularly excited when Ella noticed you, sending you a very enthusiastic wave and a kiss. 

Leah knew the move to Arsenal hadn’t been easy for you. You were rather attached to the Manchester United women, and you missed them even if you had settled in well with the Arsenal girls. 

She just hoped that you could handle seeing both teams go at it. 

Seeing your Mama go against your decidedly favorite aunts. 

“Mama is waving at you,” Leah said, nudging you as Alessia sent you an equally big wave. 

Maybe this would pull you out of your grumpiness. 

*******

Any hope that Leah had of your mood lifting was dashed as soon as the starting lineups were announced. 

You had finished your milk just after warmups were over and dawned your Spider-Man ear defenders as the crowd roared to life. You seemed excited to chant along with them to their rendition of Country Road, and the Glory Glory Man united chant, even waving squirt along to the tunes. 

But then everything shifted. 

You wilted under the chorus of boos that met your Mama’s name, frowning as they echoed from every inch of the stadium. 

“Why they boo Mama?” 

Your voice was soft as you turned to Leah, a distinct crinkle between your eyes. 

Leah bit her lip at your adorableness, smoothing back your hair again. “Well, you remember how Mama played for United?” 

You nodded. “With El and Mazza,” 

“That’s right,” She said. “When she moved to Arsenal, that upset a lot of people,” 

“Because she so good? And they were sad?”

Your head tilted to the side at the question. 

Leah hummed. Recognizing and vocalizing your emotions were things that they were working on with you, so she was proud that you were trying to understand the big emotions of the crowd. 

“Some are sad,” She agreed. “Some are angry because they don’t understand why she left them,” 

“She no leave. You no leave either,” You said automatically, and Leah was already nodding. 

“No, we will never leave you. She just changed teams because it was better for her,” She explained gently. 

It was a familiar reassurance, one that she and Alessia had to given you hundreds of times. 

You had never met your father, but since you started pre-school, you had been acutely aware that you had a Mama and a Leah instead of a mom and dad. They weren’t sure exactly what started it, but you had become irrationally terrified that one of them would leave you. Terrified to the point of a panic attack. 

She knew that her absence hadn’t helped. 

“Mark a meanie butt,” You muttered, turning back towards the pitch. 

Leah suppressed her snort as the teams lined up for kickoff. 

He was a meanie butt, and he hadn’t treated you well, going as far as to say that you were a distraction, and doing his best to make it impossible for Alessia to spend time with you. 

“Who do you think is going to score?” Leah asked you, redirecting your attention. 

Your nose scrunched as you thought. “Mama score one and El,” 

“If Mama scores then Mazza won’t have a clean sheet,” Leah reminded you, resting her chin on your shoulder. 

You shrugged, the crinkle between your eyebrows reappearing when the crowd erupted in more boos as the ball neared your mama. 

You didn’t like it when they booed. 

Leah tightened her hold on you, as you began to squirm, your head whipping back and forth with the pace of the game. 

“Go, Mama!” You yelled as Katie dispossessed Galton and sent a ball over the top, right into Alessia’s path. 

She easily collected it and sent it careening right past Mary’s outstretched fingers. 

You nearly launched yourself out of Leah’s lap as the ball hit the back of the net, cheering so loudly that Leah was afraid you would hurt yourself. She pulled you back to stand on her thighs. 

Your little yell of excitement was drowned out by the deafening boo throughout the stadium, impossibly louder than it was before.

You turned in Leah’s lap, glaring up at the crowd around you. “No boo my Mama!” 

“Easy love,” She said, using her hands on your hips to balance you as you stood on her lap, hyper-aware of the cameras now pointing in your direction. 

“No boo Mama!” You screamed at the audience again, your fists clenched at your side, your little cheeks going red. “Mean!”

“It’s ok bug,” Leah tried again, using hands under your armpits and standing up so she was cradling you against her chest. “You’re ok,” 

“No ok,” You yelled, tears finally leaking from your eyes. “No boo mama goal. Bestest goal,” 

She shushed you gently, rocking from side to side, as she gestured towards security to let her back to the aisle behind the benches.“I know love,” 

No one wanted your looming meltdown to be splashed across social media later, even if Leah agreed with you. 

It was a great goal and it didn’t deserve the boos. 

Alessia didn’t deserve the boos. 

 “Sh, you’re ok,” She shushed you gently, stepping down the small staircase and into the tunnel, dampening the boos. “Take some deep breaths for me,” 

“Mama,” You sniffled miserably into her neck, wiping your tears on Squirt's back. “Best,” 

“Your mama is the best,” Leah hummed, running the hand not holding you through your hair, scratching your scalp. 

You sagged against her, just like your mother did when Leah ran her hands through her hair. 

“And they all know it too. They just don’t know how to handle her being on a different team,” She continued, rocking from side to side. “You’re ok,” 

“Mama best,” You repeated, pulling back to look at her with a pout. “no boo,” 

She smiled sadly at you. “We can’t stop them from booing, but you know what we can do?”

You shook your head, your eyes that were so like Alessia’s still watery and rimmed red. 

“We can cheer so loud that we drown out the boos,” Leah said, fixing your hoodie. 

Your eyes flashed with determination. “I cheer for Mama goals,” 

She hummed, kissing your forehead (and Squirt’s when you held him up for her). “Let’s go then,” 

You nodded vigorously, wiping your eyes. “But after, I tell Mazza and El that fans were butt heads,” 

Leah made a low noise of agreement in the back of her throat, bouncing lightly as she made her way back to the mouth of the tunnel. 

Her idea wasn’t a complex fix to your mood, and she was sure that they would have to dodge more frustration tantrums from you, but hopefully, it would satisfy you until after the match. 

Yes, Alessia would need to assure you that she was alright, and they would need to scrub social media of your face angrily yelling at fans, but right now she would take the little that you were giving her. 

There would be time for big emotions later. 

Right now, all she had to do was cheer for her love with you (and Squirt). 

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x leah williamson x reader

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile X

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I won't lie it was a difficult chapter because Reader's psyche is changing but without this I loved this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did ! There is fluff but beware there are racism, killing envy and blood. But nothing too bad I think... yet. I really hope you'll love it, it's the turning point of the story !

You woke up against Alastor's naked chest, still enveloped in blankets. You could feel him playing with your hair while humming a song you’ve heard on the radio. You tilted your head toward him, watching his face wearing his usual smile. 

“ Hello, dear.” he whispered. You kissed his cheeks and put your head back against his warm chest. You could feel his body being more tense than usual, maybe being almost naked against each other made him uncomfortable? You tried to sit up but he pushed your head against his chest once again. “ Stay…”

You hummed, caressing his scars. It was strange, the skin color was different depending if there were scars but you were surprised by how smooth it was. You couldn’t tell the difference between his scars and his skin. 

“ Who did this to you..?” you whispered. Even though you both were alone in the cottage, cut from the outside world by the snowstorm you didn’t want to break the comfortable and quiet atmosphere. You felt like, if you began to talk louder, Alastor would shield himself from you. You felt him take a big deep breath before speaking a word you couldn't help but expect.

“ My father.” He sighed.

“ Do you wish to talk about it?”

“ What is there to tell, dear? The man who owned the title of being my father had my mother pregnant, he wanted to be a perfect man so he married her.  It was a gamble that failed. I was born and he would beat me or my mother if we were acting a little too “ black” for him, with his belt, his fists, cold water and so many other things. He teached me how to hunt, how to kill, how to hurt… I know so many things that would make you run away from me, my dear friend…” he hugged you tighter.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this angry. The man you have met many times, the very man who hurted Alastor, has always been close to you and you’ve never seen it. You tried not to imagine Alastor being alone in his room being beaten hard by his father while trying not to cry while holding onto Eamon. Had you hurted him when you would smash into his arms for a hug? Had you hurted him when you would jump on his back because you didn’t want to be walking because you were oh so tired. Why didn’t you realize that Eamon’s fur was getting redder and redder because Alastor was bleeding on him because of his father. Why did you not realize that Alastor didn’t want to let Marie alone in this house because there was a demon living among them.

“ Dear?”

“ I hope he dies during the war.”

There was a silence before Alastor tilted your head by your chin toward his face. His eyes had the same warm glint but there was something else, something darker that seemed to try to stay hidden. He was looking at you, observing you like he was searching for some kind of answer. You tried to show how angry you were, you wanted your eyes to give the answer Alastor was looking for. 

“ And if I told you I didn’t wish for him to be killed during war?”

Your eyes widened. What? 

“ Alastor.. I know he is your father and maybe you still feel some kind of bond with him but you shouldn’t. He doesn’t even deserve to be killed as a soldier, he should be taken by the enemy, tortured until he can’t even spell his own name. Being eaten by dogs. No, it would be bad meat for the dogs. He should just get his members cut off, his tongue eaten by rats, he shou–” you gasped as Alastor kissed you, pressing your body against his own. Why was he kissing you so passionately when you were talking about how his father should die.

He leaned back with a soft smile, that dangerous glint in his eyes back. You tilted your head, you didn't finish talking, it was rude of him.

“ Aah.. Darling, you are…” he sighed in bliss as you felt his nails dug comfortably into your waist.” What if.. What if I told you I didn't want him to be killed because..” he stared at you a moment before speaking again.”  I want to be the one to kill him.”

You shivered even though you were against Alastor’s warm chest and under several blankets. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? You were staring at him while he was observing you, waiting for your reaction. Alastor wanted to kill his own father? Well, you did want the bastard dead and Alastor deserved his revenge but to kill.. to kill another human being…

“ Killing him…? But …”

“ Don’t see him as living being my dear, he isn’t worth the title. Think of it.. Like I’m going to hunt a dangerous animal that needs to be put down. I’m just like your ideal Prince charming , aren’t I? Killing dangerous people for his loved one?” He tilted his head with a soft smile. 

You couldn’t help but nod. What he was saying was true. Killing his father would be a great thing. You were beginning to scared yourself as you felt no remorse or guilt to think about Alastor killing his father, his own blood. Why would you? He didn’t deserve to live after what he had done to Alastor and Marie. The idea didn’t scare you but your thoughts did. Deep inside you, you knew you weren’t scared because this idea was coming from Alastor. You trusted him with your life.

“ How would you kill him?” you asked, curiously. You giggled as he kissed you everywhere on your face. His body, once tense, was beginning to relax a little. You didn’t know what you had done but it seemed like your gave the answer Alastor was waiting for.

“ How I’m going to kill him, you mean. I have many ideas my dear! By knife, rifle or maybe by strangling him?” he pondered as he stared at the ceiling with a happy grin.

“ Won’t he be able to scream if you strangle him?” you asked. You remembered, when you were playing with your cousins, some would play a little too hard and would “strangle” you. You would just scream so your mother would come and scold your cousins.

“ Oh trust me dear, if you do it right, you can’t scream for help.”

“ How do you know?” 

“ Well, I tried to scream for my mother one day.” he smiled at you and you felt angrier than you were minutes ago. His bastard father had strangled Alastor when he was a kid. What a demon! He really didn’t deserve to be alive! “ I have so many ideas!”

“ You know, If you really happened to kill him, I wouldn’t tell a soul… In fact.. If you need me at that moment.. I promise, I’ll be there.” you said sure of yourself. You did not know if you could handle everything but you’ll be by Alastor’s side from the beginning. You didn’t know if you could kill… It was a thought too far from your morals but helping Alastor if he happened to be injured or something else… That, you would do it.

“ Oh dear.. Don’t tell me that, you’re going to make me say things I’m not ready to tell yet.” he sighed dreamily as he tilted his head backwards. Now, that made you curious. What could Alastor be hiding, he just told you he planned to murder his father, what more could you be hiding ? You smiled as you nipped his neck, making him shiver.

“ Like what? Tell me. Tell me!” you smiled as you kept kissing him on his jaws, his cheeks and his nose. “ Come on now, you just told me you wanted to kill your father, what more can’t you tell me ?” you whined before settling against him once more. You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat. It was fast…

“ Fine… Dearest, once I have killed my father,” you hummed while he took your hand in his. “ Would you marry me?”

…

Oh Lord.

You sat up, staring at him.  He was looking at you, kissing the back of your hand. You were shaking, did he .. did he..?

“ I won’t lie, I still don’t know what Love is about. I just know that I want you to be by my side, I don’t think I could remain sane if I were to see your attention shifting to someone else. Just like Narcissus with his own reflection, I can’t get enough of you and yet I feel so fulfilled when you are by my side. I’m… I think I may be obsessed with you. You are the person who brought my human heart to life, how odd. I know it’s not the love you read about or you wish for.. I don’t even know if this is love. But this is what I feel for you, and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel it for anyone else, heck, I don’t want to feel it for anyone else…I want you caged with me. I want you to think about me just like I’m always thinking about you.” he stared at you, waiting for your answer, caressing your trembling hand. His eyes were shaking but he kept his gaze on you, observing your reactions. “ Would you accept my mad affection?”

You were shaken. You were with Alastor, almost naked, sitting on his pelvis with a blanket around you and a snowstorm outside.You felt hot. So hot. Alastor wanted to marry you. He wanted you to be his wife? It felt like everything clicked in your brain. Each time you were running after him, each time you wanted to make him like you, each time you wanted him to see you as a lady, each time you asked him to let you enter into his mind, each time you felt anger when a woman would come close to him, each time you wanted him to watch you and only you.

You were madly in love and obsessed with Alastor.

You read so many love novels… The prince never asked the princess to marry after telling her he was going to kill his father. The prince never asked the princess to think about him only. Their love was pure, not tainted by obsession, not tainted by the immense need to be by their lover’s side… Their love was not like what was happening right now.

And yet you couldn’t be happier.

You smiled at him, your vision blurry because of the tears blinding your eyes.

“ Alastor.. I may be just a foolish sixteen year old girl. Maybe your obsession will pass when you see I have nothing to offer you but trust me, my affection for you has been present since the day I laid my eyes on you.” you felt him squeeze your hand harder as you continued your confession.” We are both young, so maybe you’ll change your mind. You’ll find a proper woman but I know that you are the only man I wish for in my life. The only man I wish I would marry…” you sobbed as you squeezed his hand back as he stared at you with clear obsession in his eyes. He leaned toward you, whispering against your lips.

“ Say it.. Say it..” he begged.

“ Yes, Alastor, I will marry you.”

He kissed you with a big smile you couldn’t help but imitate. He hugged you against him so hard you felt pain in your chest but you didn't care. You squeezed him as hard as you could, you’ve never felt happier.

“I feel like this is too good to be true…” you heard him say against your skin. You couldn’t help but laugh while wiping your eyes. You leaned back as you took both of his hands in yours.

“ It’s true.. I feel like.. Once we leave this place, everything would be a faraway dream.” you sighed with a soft smile. You felt like you were dreaming right now…

“ I.. May have an idea for that.” he smirked at you as you tilted your head, confused. “ I find myself being interested in voodoo.” he held his hand in front of your mouth as you gasped. “ No worry darling, voodoo is not a barbaric religion. It’s in my blood, I found books about it and where it came from. And, there are some rituals that can bind souls together… Would you like to try it?”

“ For real?” you said, astonished. From what you heard, voodoo was a banned religion because it was witchcraft which came from black people. You didn’t really find yourself into religion, men killed for religion no matter which one. But if voodoo was something Alastor’s looked into and was coming from his ancestors, that could be interesting.

“ Yes indeedy. They wrote it as a curse though but…” you peck his nose before he could continue.

“ Yes, I want to.” you smiled. “ How do we do it?”

“ I don’t have the book with me right now. But it’s very specific.. I’ll need some of your blood.” he said carefully but soon his expression turned to surprise as you ran toward the kitchen and gave back with a knife. “ Well, aren’t you in a hurry to be bound to me body and soul?” he said with a teasing smile.

“ Oh, you are right, we can wait.” you said and smiled delightedly when you saw his expression twitched. You knew that Alastor would be the less patient of the both of you for this kind of thing, for you, which was surprising, he was known to be patient, very patient. “ Here I was, ready to make my ring finger bleed.” you shook your head with a saddened expression. “ How foolish…”

“ Dear…”

“ Seems like I’m in no hurry to become your wife!” you squeaked as Alastor tugged you against his chest with a smile so big it almost looked like inhuman.

“ Dearest, don’t play with me. Not with that.” he gently took the knife from your hand. “ No need for this. If you accepted, I could cut you.” he looked at you, seeming unsure. You tilted your head, cutting yourself seemed scary indeed.

“ It’s going to hurt, right..?” you asked softly.  You watched as he played smoothly  with the knife in his hand. You wished you knew how to do it…

“ I’ll try to make it so you don’t feel anything.” 

“ No. I want to feel it. I want to feel this moment.” you said sure of yourself.  Tonight would mark the first step of becoming Alastor’s wife, body and soul. You would be damned together or go to heaven together, there were no in between. You saw Alastor’s smile widened, it seemed like he was sharing the same feeling as you about this situation.

You looked as he sunk softly the knife’s edge into your skin. You shivered as you bit your lips, you were feeling no pain. You remembered in your romance books, normally the woman would be crying as the prince would pass the ring on her fingers. And yet, here you were, letting Alastor cut your skin and enjoying it. 

He took a napkin from the table and held it against your bleeding finger. 

“ Are you okay?” he asked, observing your reaction once more. You nodded, you don’t think you could feel even better ! He put the napkin on this table with a satisfied smile before you pinned him on the sofa, hugging him against you.

“ I’m the happiest girl in the whole world !” you shouted before leaving the sofa, leaving there a confused smiling Alastor, and you jumped everywhere. You couldn’t wait to tell your mother, your father, Alice ! You squealed in delight as you jumped around under Alastor’s soft gaze.

“ You gave me the best birthday’s present.” he said as he stood up. You grinned at him, his birthday was tomorrow, you needed to prepare the food. Even if you knew nobody would be coming, it was for the better!

You took Marie’s recipes’s book, still with the blankets around you.

“ Let your future wife cook for you!” you smiled confidently.

Alastor let you in the kitchen for 15 minutes before running back because he smelt fire. You just smiled sweetly at him with a burned stove. Alastor sighed with a tender smile before helping you cook. You wanted to try to cook something spicy, that’s why you had asked Alice to bring hot pepper for his birthday.

“ Do you think you could eat one and handle it ?” you teased him. He just looked at you and ate a whole pepper without flinching. You stared at him in shock. He winked at you before giving you a hot pepper with a mocking smile.

“ Could you handle it?”

You scoffed and took the hot pepper in your hands.  If Alastor did it, you could do it! You took the whole hot pepper in your mouth and swallowed it. You waited a little then laughed at Alastor.

“ I had worse at my– Oh my god..” you stopped every movement as your felt pure fire began to grow inside of you. You felt tears streaming down your face as you coughed, holding on Alastor’s arms as he was laughing so hard you could see tears on the side of his eyes. “ Alastor, help me!” you tried to fan your tongue, jumping around as Alastor held himself against the wall, crying of laughter.

“ Haha! Dear, drink milk ! milk!” he laughed as he pointed to the fridge. You ran toward it and slammed its door open. Did you even have milk? Yes! You took the bottle and drank messily the milk until the bottle was half full. “ Oh dear… Would you like a kiss after this horrible experiment?” he smiled as he walked toward you, but as he leaned closer to your face you almost could feel the hot pepper still on his lips.

You ran away, screaming at him. You didn’t want to feel this pain anymore! You were screaming as Alastor ran behind you, his laughter echoing in the little cottage.You couldn’t help but smile, if this scene would represent your future with Alastor, you would love it!

After your battle, easily won by Alastor’s lips against yours, you went back to cooking. Alastor was showing you how to cook and you took notes. It seemed so easy from his movement. You were almost jealous but then you began to smile as you remembered that you would see this scene every day in the future.

“ You have such a big smile dear, does watching me cooking bring you such pleasure?” he asked teasingly. You stuck your tongue at him, you knew he was happier than he let on. His smile was more genuine and his body was more relaxed than you've ever seen him. 

After an hour you went back to the living room, near the fire and ate Alastor’s cooking. You called your mothers to reassure them that everything was good and you were safe. You gossiped, played a few games, like poker and Alastor was way too good about it , you would just throw a pillow at him each time he would wink at you, meaning he knew he had won. You took a nap against Alastor’s chest and when you woke up it was almost midnight. You stood up from his chest and were surprised to see Alastor asleep. Maybe being away from everything, with you had made him relaxed enough that his body could sleep? You smiled and went to the kitchen and took a cake out of the fridge. You tried to make a coffee cake two days ago, you hoped it was still good… You put the candle on the cake and lit them up before walking toward the living room. 

You saw an awaken Alastor turning his head toward you as you sat in front of him on your knees, with a soft smile and whispered in the quiet room.

“ Happy birthday, Alastor”

~~~

“ Happy birthday Alastor!” you all cheered and brough your glasses together. You were in a bar with jazz playing, celebrating the new year and Alastor’s 23th birthday. Alice was there, with some of Alastor’s friends, you didn’t really remember all of their names but one, Mimzy. It was a name you never heard of so it stuck with you.

Alastor has become a real man. He was taller than most people, his frame was deceivingly slim, his smile was as broad as ever, his hair were a little longer than when he was younger and as always , he had his glasses on. He was grinning as everyone congratulated him for his birthday. You looked at Alice with a soft smile.

Alice had changed too. Long gone was the sweet innocent looking girl, she was now a beautiful woman who was confident in any way. She had cut her long hair, now they ended toward her shoulder. She looked at you and winked.

“ Another shot?”

You laughed and nodded but Alastor stood up.

“ My dear friend, what a day to celebrate the new year and myself. I have happy news to share.” all of you looked at Alastor, waiting for him to tell you his news. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes with a smile, he was such an attention seeker. “ My voice is going to keep you company most of the day as I have been hired in a radio station.” he said with a proud smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. You shouted of pure happiness, standing up so abruptly the chair fell down behind you. You clapped just like the rest of the people around the table.

“ I knew you would do it, sweetie!” said Mizmy, giving him a side hug.

“ I'm paying for another round of shots!” you exclaimed with a big smile. You didn't even wait for everyone to tell you what they wanted. You were already going toward the barman. You were really walking straight but who cared, everyone here was busted. 

“ Heya doll, whatcha want?”

“ Give me your strongest.” you said while pointing to your table. He nodded and you went back to your table who were still praising Alastor. You sat back down next to Alice.

“ Hearing Alastor’s voice all day? Ugh, I’ll have to endure it.” she said with an amused expression. You laughed, Alastor and Alice always say they didn’t like each other but when it was for you, they would team up. 

“ I can’t wait to hear his voice on the radio. You don’t understand, we’ve been waiting for it since childhood!” you said with a nostalgic smile. You remembered your sleepover and your childish broadcast… Aah, how time flies. You smiled as the waitress put the shots on the table with a whole bottle of whiskey. 

“ Order from the house.” she said flirty before leaving. You all took one shot and drank it. You try not to grimace, this one was really strong. You laughed as you saw Alice’s head fall against the table.

“ Oh, this one was a bitch.” 

“ You need more training, love.” you heard Mimzy say to Alice as she tapped her back. You looked at Alastor who didn’t even flinch. He was talking with one of his friends but you knew better… Those friends must be useful in some way. Your expression lifted up as you heard a song you wanted to dance to. You moved Alastor’s friend out of your way and dragged him on the dancefloor. You laughed as he began to spinned you.

“ Are you sure you can handle me in that state, love?” he taunted you as he spinned you back against his broad chest. You winked at him, you may be more than tipsy but you weren’t drunk yet. You could handle him. You began to dance with Alastor, quickly being the center of all attention. You knew every step by heart, Alastor could throw you in the air you would just close your eyes and wait for him to catch once again.

After a lot of dances, you went back to your table as Alastor danced with Mimzy. You sat next to Alice, making air with your hand. So hot.

“ I won’t lie, there is so much tension between you I don’t know how you don’t just.. jump each other when you both are alone.” Alice said before drinking a glass of whiskey.

You laughed, smacking her arms. There have been moments where Alastor and you would make out so intensely you would get ready to give him your virginity but he always said to be patient and wait for your future wedding night even if it was killing you both. You respected his decision, you would wait for your wedding. The only person who knew what had happened in the cottage, the only one who knew about your promise, for Alastor 17th birthday was Alice, who almost broke every damn mirror with her screams.

“ What? Look at you ! You’re like.. ethereal ! And I’m the one saying that.” she said before slipping her hair to one side of her shoulder. You grinned, you did grow up well. Your mother was so proud of you and even your father. When your father had returned from war he was badly injured so you took upon yourself to be his personal nurse. You weren’t a perfect nurse but you knew how to clean wounds, do stitches, you weren’t disgusted by the sight of blood anymore. And to top it all off, you were used to seeing Alastor bring back dead animals from his hunt now. You weren’t the fragile little girl anymore. Something your parents would missed sometimes, but from your friends point of view and even Alastor’s, you could still be endearingly naive.

“ And what about you Alice? The jewel of New Orleans? No one fancied yet?” you smirked before taking a glass of whiskey. Alice had, as always, so many people who threw themselves to her feet but she didn’t care. 

“ No, which is infuriating , look at me ! Poor little me being single!” she groaned as you laughed before hugging her. You knew Alice would find someone, she deserved it!

You kept celebrating until 3 am before you knew it was time for you to go. You were tired and you knew you would have to take care of your father if needed. He was doing well but he couldn’t stay still so he went to work with the police. What a stubborn man. You kissed Alice on her cheek and smiled when you felt a warm hand on your back.

“ Ready to go, dearest?” Alastor smiled at you, he already had his jacket on his arm. You nodded and said your goodbye before leaving the bar. You were staring at Alastor’s handsome punchable face. He looked down at you with a teasing grin. “ Yes ?”

“ Nothing.. I’m just admiring your face.”

“ Oh, please, do continue.” he chuckled as he walked you to your home. In front of your door you hugged him as he kissed your forehead. You began to turn away from him, ready to catch some sleep but he took your hands.

“ I say I had good news right?”

“ Yes, you are now a radio host.” you smiled before giving him a peck on his lips. “ I’m so proud of you. We’ve been waiting for this, haven't we?”

“ We have, indeedy, dearest. But I have some other news, for both of us.” He took your hand toward his mouth and kissed the back of it, staring into your soul.

“ My father is coming back.”

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[serawritesthings]

CRAVE THE ROSE

summary: you were Arthur’s own slice of heaven in a world where it felt like everything he did brought him a step further to hell. pairing: arthur morgan x fem! reader tags: content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex word count: 6.1k

a/n: hello, lovelies! I'm finally done with my first fic; I hope it's worth a read. Please let me know what you think; I would much appreciate it!♡

Most nights at Horseshoe Overlook were quiet, ignoring Uncle's snoring and the girl’s quiet gossiping. Often, you joined them, finding their conversations amusing. You discovered that Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen had a wild imagination and a wilder sense of humor.

Unfortunately, they decided you would be the object of their gossip lately. More so, you and Arthur. Your relationship appeared to be very interesting to them, and they weren’t shy of making it known as they teased you for the man’s apparent infatuation with you.

Because of that, you remain behind a tree by the horses, mulling. You had no interest in speaking to the girls tonight, scared they would bother you. You didn't wish to be the center of gossip instead of the one chitchatting.

Sitting alone for the first time in a while allowed your thoughts to take over. You worried for him immensly, just like you always did when it came to Arthur. It wasn’t like your concern came from nothing, finding that trouble always followed him.

More times than not, he came home bloodied and bruised, and sometimes he didn’t come home at all. It made you feel useless to only stay in camp and think of every what-if that could happen to the unpredictable man, but you couldn't help it.

There was a lingering feeling of certainty when you met Arthur. You knew you were the same - you bruise a little easier than most, though in different places. The hurt manifested somewhere far inside of him, a place where his walls were so high you weren’t sure even he could put a crack in it. But something about him wormed itself into your heart and manifested the passage that led to your deepest thoughts and feelings.

"Whatcha doin' out here, honey?" A voice strapped with roughness spoke out behind you, surprising you. You glanced at Arthur towering over you, granting him an exasperated stare, although your heart sang at the sight of him in one piece.

"I'm hiding." He raised his eyebrow, looking entertained, settling his hands on his belt. 

"Now, what are you hidin' from?" A smirk appeared on his lips while he shook his head.

"The girls." A melancholy expression appeared on your face.

"Your hiding from… the girls?"

"Well, yes. It seems gossiping about us has become their favorite amusement." To speak about it made you scrunch your nose. You knew it was childish, but you were too irritated to care.

"I guess women never change, eh?" He studied you with a knowing smile while crouching down, touching your knee tenderly. You only scoffed at him.

"You gonna stay cooped up here like an angry little ball of fire all night?" He offered you his hand, snickering.

"Yes." Peering forward with sharp eyes, you avoided his hand.

Arthur chuckled as he gently placed his hand under your chin, gazing into your eyes. Your pout made him frown, and swiftly he tossed you over his shoulder and began walking.  

"I ain't lettin’ you linger out here all night. " You gasped, eyes facing the ground, feeling his shoulder jab into your stomach with every step.

"Now, just what do you think you're doing?!" A screech escaped you while Arthur only laughed, giving your rear a playful slap. 

"They'll see us!"

"They're drunk and asleep; calm your horse's missy."

Your eyes grew small at his comment, and you tried thinking of a way to make him release you. Lifting your hands, you grabbed the back of his pants, trying to push them down his hips. He chuckled at you and kept walking.

"Now, what do you think you're doin´?" He readjusted your squirming frame against his broad shoulder.

"It's okay, though; I like you a little feisty." 

"Oh, I'll show you feisty." You continued trying to push his pants down further.

You kept bickering on the path to Arthur's tent. He was correct; there wasn’t a single person awake. You could see the smug smirk on his face when he realized he was right, but he focused on keeping his pants up, which proved futile. What a sight you two were. 

He chuckled as he placed you on his bed, standing tall over your small frame. Amid your anger, now forgotten after your lighthearted bickering, you had failed to remember how much you missed him. Arthur had been away for a long time, leaving you to worry about him constantly. It made you feel useless, never knowing where or what he was doing. But he was here now, which instantly lifted your spirits.

Raising the corners of your mouth into a soft smile, you looked up at him through your lashes, grabbing his gun belt and bringing him closer to you till you felt the chilly surface of his buckle against your cheek. Putting your arms around his waist, you rested your cheek against his middle and sighed.

"Are ya done trying to pull my pants down now?" Arthur only raised his eyebrow, wondering where the feisty girl went.

"Mm." The fabric of his jeans silenced your voice as you relished in what was solely Arthur.

"I missed you so much." Your tone suddenly wavered, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him. It felt like he would disappear from you.

Feeling his coarse hand land softly on your head, he ran his fingers through your hair that was soft under his palms. Arthur wasn't good at feelings and often found himself tongue-tied when you spoke to him like this. His heart churned at your sudden display of emotions.

He missed you more than you could possibly know and spent most of the chilly nights in the wilderness, missing your soft voice and warm hands he had grown accustomed to. Before you, it didn’t matter where he was since his home was where he put his bedroll.

Now, though, his home was in your warm embrace. The ghost of your eyes tormented his every move, prodding him to return to you so the glimpses he thought he caught of you would become a reality. 

How well you knew your Arthur. He was always quick with words but never with you. When you started paying attention to one another, dragging the words out of him required much effort. Stubborn as a mule, he was.

"Ah, I missed ya too, honey." His voice grew rough as he looked down at you. A warm feeling coursed through you at his words, pressing your cheek further against the cloth of his jeans, face illuminated by the lamp on the worn bedside table. The light bounced off the closed tent, creating a warm atmosphere.

Keeping close to Arthur, you looked up at him and staring back at you was a man with warm, soft-blue eyes and tousled honey-blond hair escaping his hat, looking slightly longer since you last saw him. Your chest tightened at the look he gave you, making you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen. 

Now, standing between one of your legs, you felt small beneath his tall frame. He felt many things watching you beneath him, face resting on the side of his hips, face too close to his guns for his liking, but he didn't move away. He felt all his limbs grow heavier when he observed you, finding only you to have this effect on him. 

Your palms grazed the guns at his sides, being careful when lifting them from the holsters. They were heavier than you expected, not familiar with holding the weighty metal of a gun. The coarse leather of his gloves grasped your hands and lifted them with you, putting them on the bedside table.

A shrill ran through you, watching him grab them. He looked intimating, handling them like second nature compared to your unsure hands. It reminded you of the kind of man he was, or rather the man he had to be.

He could tell you felt wary; a familiar feeling of protectiveness he always directed towards you surging through him. You smiled slightly and stared at him through your lashes, palm stroking his thigh gently. He could feel himself melt at your behavior, realizing you were teasing him; testing the waters.

Most times, being intimate together went about the same way as you were inexperienced, and Arthur not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But he could feel the air had changed, making him stiff with intrigue and curiosity.

The tension in the tent was searing as you unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You were used to him taking control, but you felt unusually bold in his presence this night. Suddenly, Arthur suddenly lifted you to stand on the bed, making you tower over him as a breathless laugh left you.

Putting both of your hands on his stubby cheeks, he wrapped his arms around your middle, breathing in your sweet scent as he pulled you closer. Your stomach churned at having him this close, feeling his warm breath fan over you, making your nipples stiffen against the closeness of his mouth.

Slowly, he enclosed his mouth around your nipple, covered by the fabric of your blouse–being this close it proved hard for him not to. You closed your eyes at the sudden feeling, thumbs gently stroking the scruff of his beard as he grazed his tongue over your clothed bosom wantonly.

You lifted your trembling leg to rest at his side, his arm immediately coming to rest on your backside, bringing you closer to him. He caressed you tenderly as you felt him press his tongue over your thin blouse, making you moan slightly under your breath. 

Opening your eyes, you looked down at him, the sight more erotic than anything you have ever seen. He held your gaze through hazy eyes, his reddening lips glistening slightly with saliva, resting on the now wet patch on your shirt. You lifted your hands, grabbed ahold of the hat almost falling off his head, and dropped it to the ground.

Running your fingers through his tousled hair, you brushed the wild pieces behind his ear, unkempt by his hat. He rumbled appreciatively at your action and you felt the rough leather from his gloves sneaking under your shirt that was folded into your skirt, finally touching your skin.

You were always so soft, and most of the time, he felt undeserving to touch something so perfect with his rough, unlawful hands, roughened by the hardship his life had brought onto him. Never should anyone who has done such malicious things put their hands on you–yet here he was, soiling you.

Your soft skin felt heavenly under his rugged palm as if delicate hands sculpted it with adoration so stout there couldn’t be a more beautiful creation than the one standing before him. He felt shameful but didn't have the strength to pull away; he never did. It felt too good to touch you, almost bordering on torture, the way he kept crawling after you like a starved man never getting enough.

Arthur tightened his grip on you, paying attention to your other side with his mouth, moving slowly as your breath hitch. You let your head fall over him, resting your cheek on the top of his head that you now cradled, enjoying the moment while wishing you could be in his arms forever.

Running your hands over his broad shoulders, you suddenly felt something wet touch your fingers. You perked up, looking at your hands. Covering your fingertips was a dark red substance. It was sticky like it had been there for a while.

"Arthur." You murmured, a light worry detectable in your voice. He didn't answer you, instead grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up his waist, burying his head in your chest. You wanted to giggle at him and probably would have if concern didn't seep into your mind.

"Arthur" Your voice was low, this time sounding more collected. 

"It ain't my blood, darlin’," he mumbled, voice muffled by the fabric. You felt yourself relax, content no one had hurt him, but it left you wondering whose blood it was. "Don't you worry your pretty little head bout that," he said, like he could read your mind. 

Arthur sat on the bed and it creaked under his weight, keeping you on his lap with your legs at either side of his thick thighs. He pushed your hesitant hips snugly against his, letting out a hum of appreciation, finally feeling your weight where he wanted you most.

Lifting his head from your chest, he gave you a look-over, and what a sight you were. Blush covered your cheeks as you looked at him with blissful but still worrisome eyes, a slight pink shade running down your neck into the cleavage of your blouse.

You brought your face close to his, feeling the roughness of his beard scrape against your cheeks as you leaned in, the worrying thoughts long gone as you felt his large hands slither into your skirt, kneading the soft flesh harshly under his palm.

You squeaked quietly, surprised by the sudden contact, your lips pausing, barely touching as you breathed in each other's air as your head spun in anticipation. The feeling of Arthur's warm hands so close to your exposed core made heat form in your lower belly and in your moment of bliss, you suddenly felt his lips on yours.

"Arthur." You whimpered against his mouth. Hearing his name from your mouth so pleadingly made the ache in his chest cramp at his heart, feeling the familiar warmth of pleasure spread. Amid his tongue massaging yours so sweetly contrasting the harshness of his hands, you lowered your hips softly.

The roughness of his jeans touching your center made a shockwave of rippling pleasure spread through you, making you choke out a mix between a moan and a cry. You lifted your chest slightly, leaning your head backward, making your hair fall in waves behind you.

Hugging Arthurs's head to your bosom, you felt his mouth on your breast once again. The feeling was too much, making your whole body tense as you tried to bring him closer. He hastily grabbed your blouse, dragging it out from the top of your skirt, and seeing he couldn't lift it over your head without unbuttoning it, he held the fabric in the middle, ripping the buttons quickly and exposing you to him. You wanted to complain, but feeling his mouth wrap around your now-bare nipple made you lose your train of thought.  

They grew hard under the assault of his tongue; Arthur was sure he would’ve bitten them if he didn’t control himself. You were breathing frantically over him as his mouth moved against you, and he could hear how fast your heartbeat was.

He nuzzled the soft flesh, teeth grazing on the round bottoms of your breasts until he sucked on the peaks. You unknowingly motion your round hips in his lap, clearly getting worked up from his touch. His hand engulfed your hips, helping you rock back and forth on his lap.

The added pressure his hands brought made the rough material against your undergarments feel delicious as he moved his hips with yours, pushing you down every time you met his pelvis. The action was desperate, a silent plea for the bittersweet pleasure you sought within each other. His hands ran up your back, caressing the soft skin that shivered. Despite the chilly night, you were warm under his hands, calling for him to put his hands on you. You were beckoning him closer.

The moment was tender but filled with desperation that always seemed to linger around you. You ran your hands over Arthur's back, feeling the rough fabric of his worn-out shirt you knew so well. His broad shoulders bulged under your soft caresses as you could see his muscles tighten at your touch, his movements growing bolder as he once again placed his hands under your skirt, letting the fabric rest above your hips, exposing you to him. You felt him knead the warm flesh under his palms as he pushed you against him harder than before, pushing his crotch into yours, feeling the delicious warmth of your core against his bulge that strained against his pants. You could feel him under you, your face growing hot as his prominent member sat hard against you, pushing against its confinements. 

"Oh," You could not help letting out a quiet moan as heat traveled through your body when you felt him. He stopped and looked up at you, leaving a string of spit between your breasts and his swollen lips. The look in his eyes made your breath hitch, his eyes hazy with a glint of warmth in them. 

"Something wrong, honey?" His voice was low, almost sultry, and his hands softened against your bottom, no longer continuing his harsh treatment. The blush warmed your cheeks, realizing how exposed you were next to the fully dressed man. Having been lost in the moment, you hadn't noticed. But you did now. Arthur did, too, and praised the almighty; he didn't care if Colm O’Driscoll himself came and shot him right at this moment because he could die happy. 

"No, I…" You tried to explain, but he seemed more focused on removing the ruined blouse from your arms, unable to help himself as he placed a few more kisses on the underside of your breasts. “I… uh…” The words were stuck in your throat, turning your brain into mush. 

He took your hand, placing it on the lower side of his stomach, showing where he wanted your touch. You were timid, careful, and softly caressed the part over his waistline. You could tell he was growing impatient. His hands returned to your backside as he placed more kisses on your neck, slowly inching closer to your warmth while lifting you slightly, leaving room for your hand to travel further down. Cold fingers ran along the sides of your throbbing heat, teasing you and making you stiff with anticipation. Reaching your mouth, he placed his chapped lips on your soft ones, humming as he claimed you in the kiss. Thinking he would finally touch you, he suddenly lowered his hands and caressed your inner thigh, running his hands up and down. He then grabbed your hand, fitting it against his rigid member.

A relieved sigh left his body as he felt your small hand finally touch him. The relief only lasted so long before he felt the immense pleasure striking through his body at your soft caresses, hands leisurely moving up and down. They were unsure as they caressed him, but oh, they felt so good. Arthur felt his body go limp, almost like his muscles turned into heavy stones, as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

You let out a breathless giggle as you grew more confident when you saw his desperation for your touch. Hugging his head to your chest with one hand embedded in his hair, the other continued to move against him. Slowly, you took one finger and stroked the tip that strained against his pants. A heavy groan left his throat when you touched the sensitive spot, although the feeling felt muted from the layers of clothes.

You looked down beside his head to unfasten the suspenders holding up his jeans. You let them hang over his shoulders as your hands unzipped his jeans, unbuttoning a few buttons on his union suit so you could wriggle your hand inside.

First, your fingers touched a patch of hair under his belly button that led down to his member, the muscles tensing in his stomach. You followed it down, feeling Arthur’s warm breath against your shoulder. 

"Christ alive!" The words wormed their way from his throat, sounding strained. You had winded your nimble fingers into his pants, fingertips feeling over the ridge beneath his cock. The touch alone sent a white flash of pleasure through his whole body. Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed your thumb up against the frenulum of his member, coaxing harsh noises from the man.

His head lay limp on your shoulders as his now sweaty hair tickled your skin, your actions turning his brain into mush. Your hand leisurely pumps his cock, going as slow as he can take it as you feel something warm start sliding down the back of your hand.

Curiously, you tried to look between your tightly knit bodies, leaning slightly away from Arthur for a moment. Although you didn't get the chance to look before his arms wound around your waist, bringing you closer to his broad form yet again. He lifted his head like he had woken from a deep slumber, lids heavy as he spoke.

"What kind of spell do you have me under, woman?" He rolled his hips up to meet your hand as it descended at the base of his cock. You readjust on his lap, scooting back slightly to gain more leverage for moving your arm. Arthur's eyes shut tight; his brows furrowed as you brought your other hand to his cheek, caressing it lovingly with your thumb as you gazed at him with warm eyes.

Being this close made you see him more clearly: the slight sunburns on the tall places on his face from being out in the sun all day, the lines on his forehead permanent from his constant frowning, and the thin layer of dirt covering his skin from the endless hard work he put up with. Too focused on what you were doing, he didn’t notice your stare, but his eyes found yours already looking at him when your hand slowed down. 

At that moment, his lust drowned in his love for you.

Sometimes, he found you looking at him like that, and it was safe to say it baffled him. The tenderness in your eyes made him tense, unsure. He wasn't used to your affection, but your every move was an act of pure fondness for him. Although it puzzled him, he craved your attention at him at all times and boasted at having such a woman at his hands. A woman no doubt many men surely dreamed of for the rest of their lives if they ever got the chance to lay their eyes on you. 

He felt your hand release the grip on his member, letting its now red, swollen tip rest against his stomach. Nimbly, you unbuttoned the other buttons on his union suit, your other hand sneaking under the fabric to touch the revealed skin, caressing his chest slowly as you reached the last button.

Running your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you let the fabric fall on his arms as you stroked over the broad muscles of his thick arms, appreciating their size. He noted that your wandering hands had grown bolder and relished in your touch. You leaned into him, his arms tightening around you to help you closer as you scooted up in his lap so you could reach his neck with your lips.

You heard Arthur grunt as your exposed cunt made contact with his cock when you raised your hips slightly, dragging your wet folds to his tip, letting it rest there as your warm lips put nimble kisses on the sweaty skin under his jawline. His shaft twitched when the muscles in his stomach clenched, the tip dripping precum on his skin as he felt his sack tighten.

"Do you want to kill me?" Breathlessly he spoke to you. Smiling through your kisses, you relished the power you seemed to have over him. "Maybe." You giggled against his skin, continuing to place timid kisses along his neck and pretending to bite him with your teeth. He scoffed at your playfulness, grabbing your bottom and grinding you over his swollen head.

A startled moan left your wet lips, surprised by the sudden contact. The pleasure that shot through your body was sweet but laced with a sharpness that made you quiver in his grasp. It felt delicious; the anticipation of the movement filled every inch of you with deep shivers that racked through your already shaking body.

Your mouth was left gaping against his shoulder, your lingering kisses paused by Arthur pushing you against him in small motions so he could feel the delicious friction your swollen lips created against his rigid member. 

"You want me to touch you, darlin'?" His gruff voice spoke. You mewled against him, all traces of the dominance you thought you had for a second go, and he didn't even have to try. It made you realize he only let you because he wanted to.

Calmly, his fingers eased toward your wetness that now almost seemed to drip down your thigh in complaint at being untouched for so long. Two of his fingers parted to stroke either side of your lips, almost throbbing as you clenched around nothing. The strokes continued, never touching you where you wanted him to. You were going crazy. How could he tease you so?

"Arthur." Your voice was quiet and begging, an undertone of wholehearted want seeping through. He hummed against you, lifting your head to place his lips on yours as his fingers finally disappeared beneath your wet folds, gliding toward your clit and resting there. He began drawing small circles that blur your vision as your eyes rolled back, letting out ungodly sounds muted against his lips. His lips continued to move against you, but when he noticed yours weren't, a low chuckle escaped him. Seeing you sitting on top of him with your blouse discarded and skirt lifted to reveal the tempting flesh to his eyes, as your face showing nothing but pure pleasure, drove him mad. The pads of his fingers are rough against your delicate parts, only adding to the bliss surging through your body. As he stroked you gently, your back arched as your hands frantically grabbed his arms. You feel your hands shake, your grip tight on his biceps as his two fingers sink into your hole. You gasped at being filled, clenching your walls tight around his fingers. The stretch burned, his fingers thicker than yours.

Sweet moans reach Arthur’s ears as he moves against your spongy walls, the squelching sound of him entering you filling the quietness of the night. Knuckle deep in you, he bends them expertly, causing your breath to hitch, making you spread your thighs wider for him as you grind down on his hand. His motions were rapid as he dove deep into your heat. Your thighs contracted as you felt your whole body tense, his arms moving underneath your touch.

“Oh, Arthur, please.” You spotted his warm eyes staring into yours when you turned your gaze up at him. Your eyes were pleading with him to take you, tears brimming at the intense feelings he filled you with. He knew what you wanted but had to ensure you were ready, knowing you would hurt otherwise. 

“I know, honey, just a little more.” Arthur caressed your hair softly as his jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his forehead as his eyes were stuck on you. He felt hopeless when you looked at him like this. You could get him to do whatever you wanted when looking at him like that; hell, Arthur would even kill for you if you asked. He was wet with your slick, his fingers jamming inside you as you lifted your legs, trying to escape his assault. The sudden change of pace made the pleasure unbearable. Not a single sound left your mouth as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth hung open. He grabbed your hips, bringing you down against his fingers so you couldn’t escape.

Arthur hoisted you up, fingers leaving your dripping heat as he placed you over his throbbing head. Feeling your wetness wrap around him made his vision blur, ears ringing from the blood that rushed from his head. You leaned back, placing your hands on his knees as his hands found your hips. You sank slowly, watching his member disappear between your folds. The unison makes your heart swell, the thought of your body becoming one running through you like warm whisky, setting your blood afire. 

Arthur’s breathing was heavy, his hands shaking slightly from the intenseness of the moment. Every movement was a silent plea for the moment never to end, wanting to stay connected for all eternity in each other’s embrace. The world disappeared around you,  becoming a blur. The only thing you saw was each other as you moved over him, feeling him lift you to the top to lower you so you could hug him warmly. Your walls clamped down on him, his mushroom head prodding deep inside your spongy walls, eliciting whines from your open mouth. Arthur was used to being quiet, but you were struggling, terrified someone would hear. You wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation if you were.

“Come here, darlin’.” He placed his brawny arms under your thighs, his member leaving you as he stood up and laid your back gently on the bed, his hand under your head. Always so careful. Your arms reached for him, seeking his solace and safe embrace as he returned to you, putting his weight on you as close as he could without hurting you. He entered you again as his head rested in the crevice of your neck, panting. He stuffed you full, fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet grasp. He set the pace this time. His muscular frame was going slow, but his strokes were hard; your body was being pushed up the bed from the harshness of his thrusts. He brought you deeper into the mattress whenever you felt him dive back inside. Your legs found their way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. Arthur loves how you cling to him, helping you by holding you close as he prods you deeper. He takes your hand, bringing it to your chest and placing it between your breasts as he murmurs something in your skin. You’re too blissed out to hear what as his voice melts like honey at the base of your neck. 

“Oh god!” You cry out between his thrusts, moonlight seeping through the folds of the tent and splashing his skin. His palms tremble against you from the effort. He cooed at your noises, shushing you by capturing your lips with his. You had messed up his hair in your blissful frenzy, and his eyes were glossy with lust. His hands ran down the side of your body that arched underneath him, grabbing your thigh and pushing the plush skin up to rest beside you so he could bury the whole cock inside you. You almost felt him in your guts as he prodded against your flesh, leaving you to mumble nonsense into his mouth between the gasps that escaped you from the force of his thrusts. The slide of his length against the silky, slick clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambrosial.

Arthur breathes heavily between clenched teeth as you tighten around him. He slowed his pace to draw himself almost entirely out of you before filling you again with a languid thrust. The coil inside him was tightening, threatening to snap. He was holding you so close now, shielding you from the world as you lay underneath him, eyes glazed with a faraway look. Each caress from his hand said the words his sex-addled mind couldn’t make his mouth form.

I love you

He wrapped his arm under your waist, supporting your arching body, pistoning you now with brutal efficiency. Still, affection lingered in everything he did. He never gripped you too hard as his rough hands remained gentle. For you. Only for you. His hands slipped down the planes of your stomach to apply gentle pressure to the hooded bundle of nerves, sending a shock through you like a burst of electricity. Whatever words you tried to speak came out as little more than a garbled cry as he teased furious circles over your still swollen clit, arms tight against his neck.

“Please.” Lust-filled sounds left you as you begged. You didn’t know what for, his assault leaving your thoughts in shambles. He doubted there was a more beautiful sight than the woman he loved unraveling under the force of his thrusts. Your walls clenched around him, contracting as you sucked him more profoundly into your cunt. 

“I love you!” You cried into his ear; Arthur’s eyes shut tight as his hips spluttered, pumping deeper inside you, noises he let out erupting from his lips in a sound that could only be likened to a primal whine. With a final uneven snap of his hips, the coil inside him snapped, and his release spilled inside you. His forehead rested between your shoulder blades as he trembled, your hands resting in his hair lovingly amidst the tremors running through your body. Arthur’s hips snapped up into you one last time, pushing up into you as far as possible to continue feeling the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His cum spurted out, coating your walls and escaping your entrance that he was stuffing with his cock. He gripped your thighs, moving his hips languidly, basking in the sharp pleasure running through him as his vision faded.

You could feel him relaxing in your grasp, heavy breathing leaving him as he gently kissed your trembling skin. You hummed over him at his touch, a pleasureful little sound that, despite being wholly spent, had him wondering if he could muster up the energy to retake you as his head lifted to claim your lips, tongue flickering lazily out to tangle with your own. Arthur grabbed your thighs that were wound tightly around his waist as he scooted down the bed, pressing them to flush against the mattress. He spread you wide, your body covered in sweat and cum, exposed before his eyes as he wasted no time putting his mouth on your puffy cunt. His tongue was warm as he entangled it in your wetness. Your hands tried to grip your hair, sheets, and headboard to find stability until they rested in Arthur’s hair. He could feel you pull on his roots, the feeling making him groan against you. The sound created vibrations against your sensitive clit. It felt like his mouth was eating you whole as he nuzzled as close as he could, sucking ferociously on your tender flesh. His tongue entered you, making you dizzy as blood buzzed in your ears. You looked down at him, breath hitching as you found his hazy eyes already on yours. It felt sinful to keep eye contact with him as he performed such a sensual act on you, but his admiring eyes left you searing with pleasure. You couldn’t look away, not yet. You felt him wind his arms under your thighs as he gripped your inner thighs, sitting up so he was resting on his heels. 

“Arthur!” You exclaimed at the sudden motion. Your head rested on the bed as Arthur lifted you off it, his arms wrapped around your stomach, hugging you tightly against him as he buried his head further into your cunt. The air left you from his actions, your legs hitting his back to escape the frenetic torture he put you through. Wet noises filled the tent, Arthur’s dark eyes gazing down at you. You looked sinful, he thought. Usually so innocent, but at this moment, with your hair spread out on the messy sheets, a pink flush covering your cheeks, and dazed eyes staring up at him, you looked like he had corrupted you and filled every inch of you with pure ecstasy. He lifted his mouth from you, the lower part of his face glistening wet as his fingers found your clit. They stroked you gently as he hummed at your quiet mewls.

“Gettin’ close, honey?” Arthur cooed as you stared up at him with glistening eyes, brows furrowed in pleasure. Your expression told him enough, so he lowered his head again and extended his tongue inside you, massaging your walls. It felt good, so good that high-pitched whines started leaving you. His one hand found your mouth, muffling the sounds. Your hips began twitching, moving against his mouth as you struggled between putting distance from his lips and pulling him closer. His fingers were relentless, rubbing you faster to where you heard ringing in your ears from the searing pleasure you felt coursing through you. The fire pooling low in your abdomen started spreading, leaving a burning trail as it flowed through your every vein. Your head rolled back against the sheets, mouth open wide, but no noise left you as hot tears fell from your eyes. The world slowed down, your orgasm shattering your body. Rippling through you, it made you tense up, your walls pulsing around Arthur’s tongue as he slowly massaged your insides, intensifying your orgasm. Your hips started jerking against him, his arm holding you still as he hummed against you while observing you underneath him. 

The world before you was blurred when your eyes slowly opened, the ringing now faint as you felt Arthur kiss the inside of your thigh, his hand rubbing your stomach soothingly. He lowered you onto the bed as your eyes gained focus. He could feel you gaze at him as he lifted you to lay your head on the pillow, caressing your cheeks. It was quiet; the only thing cutting through the air was your frantic breathing, both of you trying to catch your breath. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding between you as your trembling hand brushed his sweaty strands behind his ears. 

“I love you,” He mumbled against your skin, eyes peering up at you. There was a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before, and it took a few seconds for you to recognize it. Remorse. “But I don’t deserve you.” He sounded defeated, eyes staring absentmindedly like he was off somewhere else. It was a rarity for him to be this honest with you, but his words rang true. He didn’t deserve you; he knew it, you knew it, and everyone around you knew it. But he had you, body and soul. He had every part of you, even the parts you wanted to shield from both him and the world. His arms wrapped around you, covering you in his safe embrace, and your heart ached inside you when gazing at the man in front of you.

Before you could speak, he placed his lips against yours. There wasn’t much to be said anymore, your hearts speaking the words your lips couldn’t utter.

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption smut #red dead redemption 2 smut #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption 2 imagine #arthur morgan imagine #smut

[inuyashaluver]

Queen! Ur writing is always so perfect 💋 would u consider writing something for Mearps?

tiktok exposure - mary earps

mary earps x reader

description: in which your secret girlfriend exposes your relationship on her tiktok

warnings: reader gets slapped with a tortilla - funniest warning i’ve ever written in my life, little swearing, unhinged but so am i

a/n: omg, lovely, you’re so sweet! thank you for the kindness and the request, hope you enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, mary were in a relatively ‘secret’ relationship. your friends, family and teammates all knew about it, the only people really left in the dark was the media.

there wasn’t any specific reason for it, you and mary just thought it would be better this way in the beginning stages of your relationship. but the thing is, you’ve been dating for over 5 years and people still think that you and mary are just affectionate best friends. slowly but surely, you both didn’t want to hide it any longer.

—

you met mary in the england youth teams. originally, she didn’t like you at first. you were a forward and she was a keeper, and even though you were on the same team, her body would burn in anger when the ball you sent to the back of the net would graze her fingertips everytime.

you were always labelled a sweetheart, one of the nicest girls on the team by a long shot and no one could deny it, not even mary.

she always claimed she didn’t like you but as the time progressed, she began to admire you. mistaking her ‘dislike’ for intrigue.

to ‘settle your differences’, you and mary were forced to room together at every camp, meaning the two of you would talk and goof off together. it was clear to your teammates that you both liked each other, so with a gentle push, mary made the first move and asked you out. and ever since then, you’d been inseparable.

—

you and mary ended up playing together at all the same clubs, labelling the two of you as the unstoppable best friends, something that the two of you would laugh about.

—

it was the women’s world cup, you and mary getting called up for the senior team at the same time in your shared flat. it was nerve wracking, yet exciting, as everyone had good feelings about the tournament.

during this time, your girlfriend had grown quite a love for frequently posting on tiktok, making random videos with your teammates everyday. occasionally she would vlog and get you to say “hi” the comments always saying how cute your friendship was.

“hello, everyone! millie and mary here,” mary holds the phone while she sits on the plane next to millie, you’re sitting behind her. “we’re gonna play around with this guess the country filter while everyone is sleeping” mary says in a lame attempt of a whisper while her and millie cackle.

millie glances around the plane until her eyes fall on your sleeping figure. “literally everyone is sleeping right now, look at your girl over here” millie gestures to you and mary’s face lights up, she lifts up her phone to show you sleeping next to maya, both of you bundled up in hoodies. though what mary didn’t realise, was that you were wearing her hoodie.

“sleepy girls” mary coos before laughing and propping the phone up so they could continue the video.

“what’s that?” millie asks

“jaw, teeth? mail teeth?” mary says in full confusion

you woke up to the loud laughs of mary and millie with a groan, you peer over the front of your seat to see the two of them goofing off on mary’s phone. you’re visible in the camera, your tired eyes evident on your face.

you slap them both on the back of the head and they both let out a gasp in surprise, snapping their heads to see a very grumpy you staring down at them.

“too loud” you grit out and mary smiles up at you affectionately, moving her hand to pinch your cheek gently. “sorry, love” she laughs, millie blows you a kiss in apology and you couldn’t help but smile. before you sit down, you wave at the camera, “it’s india” you say simply before sitting back down, hearing the excited yells of astonishment at your correct answer.

the video blows up, specifically the comments saying how funny you all were. there were some comments saying how you were wearing mary’s clothes and some saying the way mary looked at you was anything but friendly but fans were quickly shutting them down.

everyone truly believed the two of you were best friends but the video began to decay those opinions. the speculations were growing and you and mary honestly found it quite funny.

—

you and mary room together, forcing you to film as many videos as she could with you. her tiktok page filling up completely with random videos during the day or challenges she would do with different teammates.

the social media admin was also having a field day with all the content being released from mary, they’d also been releasing their own. one that sparked a lot of interest in particular, was one of you and mary arriving to a game.

she’d gotten off the bus first and waved to the camera, grabbing your hand and helping you walk down the stairs. when you reach the ground, you look up at her and smile affectionately before she bends down slightly, showing you her back.

you instantly take the invitation and she piggybacks you while you wave to the camera.

“i only arrive in style” you joke at the camera, throwing it a wink as you rest your cheek against mary’s. “what about me?” mary mocks, you just smile and nuzzle into her.

in the distance, ella is speaking to alessia, “i wish my partner was here so i didn’t have to walk” she jokes, it’s barely audible but fans picked it up right away. at this point, you and mary didn’t really care, you were just being you and having fun and that’s all that mattered for the both of you.

—

though, a video that fully confirmed your relationship was made by mary. she’d begged you to join her on a challenge and claimed it would be extremely funny.

“baby, please, it’ll be so good!” she pleads, hugging you from behind while you brush your teeth. “can’t you ask me later?” you muffle out, mouth full of toothpaste and she laughs affectionately. kissing your cheek repeatedly as she squeezed your waist gently. she stares at you in the mirror and you give in easily, “fine” you groan, finishing up brushing your teeth as she squeals excitedly.

you had training today, both of you agreed to film the video at the training facility as it involved water.

she’d clearly already organised this, when she walked you in the room, the entire team was there and had brought all the materials.

you laugh in disbelief as your water bottle and tortillas are thrusted in your hands. “what are we doing again?” you smile at mary while she gives the phone to another tiktok expert, esme to film. “so we fill our mouths with water and then do scissors, paper, rock and then whoever wins slaps the other person with the tortilla” mary explains, all the girls are in fits of giggles excited to see the video happen right in front of them.

you shake your head amusingly but agree, laughing when mary gives you your tortilla. she does a quick intro with her arm slung around your shoulder. “hello everyone, me and this hottie over here have a great video for you today, enjoy!” she says cheekily, you roll your eyes at the pet name and ignore the teasing coming from behind the phone.

you fill your mouth up with water and try not to laugh at mary’s appearance, she was clearly trying to make you laugh and it took everything in you to hold it in. you send her a warning glare before holding your hands up for scissors, paper, rock.

you win the first one and gently slap mary’s cheek with the tortilla, clearly missing the challenge. people awe at you from behind the camera and you look at them confused, mary swallows her water and laughs. “you’re so cute, (y/n/n)!” millie yells and you try not to laugh at her.

“you need to slap hard!” mary exclaims, your eyes widen but you nod, gesturing for her to continue. you win again and look at mary trying not to laugh. you slap a little harder but still quite gentle and mary smiles at you, swallowing her water and pulling you into a little hug.

“i’ve picked the wrong person to do this with” she coos, you swallow your water and laugh when she cradles your head to her chest. “you’ve gotta slap me really hard with it, love, don’t hold back!” mary smiles at you before separating again.

you get back into position and do scissors, paper, rock again, this time mary wins and you look at her nervously. she smirks and lines the tortilla up next to your face. you let out a little squeal in fear as she pretends to slap you but doesn’t. the team laughs brightly at the interaction, some of them a little scared for your cheek.

mary finally slaps you with the tortilla and your eyes widen in shock and you spit out a little water in the process. the slap was hard, so hard that she broke the tortilla in the process. people let out shocked gasps and laughs as they watch you recover. you were trying not to spit out your water from laughter but failing completely, you keep laughing with little spits of water coming out of your mouth while you hold your cheek.

mary looks at you in shock, swallowing the water and cradling your face between her hands. “baby! oh my god, i’m so sorry” she looks into your eyes and smiles when she sees you laughing.

“shit, mearps, the gym is working out for you” you joke, she kisses your slapped cheek repeatedly as an apology and you can feel yourself growing warm. “i’m so sorry, my love” mary says earnestly, you kiss her cheek back and tell her not to worry about it.

you walk up to the camera with a big grin, showing them your cheek with a laugh. “confirmed, mary earps is a tortilla abuser, slapped her own girlfriend” you joke, mary laughs brightly from behind you, “oi!” she hoists you over her shoulder and you let out a gleeful laugh, she playfully slaps your behind and runs off. esme stops the camera and the girls watch it back together, pissing themselves laughing at it.

mary takes you to a hidden corner of the room and pulls you into a loving kiss, it lasts for a couple seconds before she pulls back and inspects your cheek. “i’m so sorry, baby, i overestimated the strength of the tortilla” she laughs, “it’s okay, babe, now i can say mary earps slapped me with a tortilla, big achievement” you shrug, she smirks and closes the gap, kissing you again quickly before walking towards the girls again.

—

the video blows up, becoming one of the most popular world cup videos as well as the confirmation of your relationship. everyone claims “they knew it” on the video and sending the two of you support. now that everyone knows, mary will make couple tiktoks with you and feeds everyone in the woso community their favourite couple content.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill!!! - just pretend it’s you xx ily chlo

liked by mayaletissier and 44,232 others

1maryearps: when she confirms the relationship 🫦

view all comments

yourname: mary earps slapped her own girlfriend with a tortilla

↳ 1maryearps: i said i was sorry!

↳ yourname: YOU. SLAPPED. YOUR. GIRLFRIEND. WITH. A. TORTILLA

↳ 1maryearps: I’M. SORRY.

↳ yourname: you’re lucky you’re cute

↳ mbrighty04: you’re the cutest (y/n/n)!

↳ yourname: no you mills!!

↳ 1maryearps: i’m sorry, am i missing something here?

↳ mbrighty04: mind your business

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #mary earps #mary earps x reader #mearps

[wileys-russo]

manchester is saved II m.earps x reader

manchester is saved II m.earps x reader

"mumma!" you looked up from your phone, pocketing the device with a wide smile watching your almost six year old son sprint toward you, backpack comically almost as big as he was.

"well hello! someone's had a good day then hm?" you laughed at the huge grin on his face as he waved goodbye to his friends, you sending a smile to some of their parents you knew quite well.

"the best day!" mason beamed, and you couldn't help but melt at how much he looked like your wife when he did so. he had your eyes and the same dirty blonde hair that ran deep in your genes, but his sloped nose, rambunctious laugh and cheeky smile was exactly alike your wife.

"well don't hold out on me, tell me all about it." you demanded as you took his bag from him and he grabbed your hand, swinging it to and fro as the two of you began to walk home, not living very far from the school both you and mary took turns walking him to and from each day.

he began to happily ramble on and on about his day, which you knew he would enjoy given the fact they'd run a sports camp for the kindergarten class for half the day, you having give him very very strict instructions not to lose the permission slip you'd tucked away securely into his bag last week.

"then we have sports day next week! are you and mama coming?" he asked hopefully, looking up at you as you affectionately ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, moving it out of his eyes. "of course my love, we'll both be there." you promised as he cheered happily, hugging your leg.

"oh! can i go get mama some flowers?" he gasped, seeing a few wild daises growing in a clump on the nature strip, sprinting off after you nodded. you leaned against the front gate of your house with his backpack in hand, watching on carefully as the five year old squatted down.

you couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself at the way his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth, eyebrows knitted into a frown exactly mirroring mary's own concentrating face as his eyes wandered the clumps of flowers in front of him.

you and your wife were both fiercely protective over the boy ever since he'd blessed the two of you coming into the world. you'd tried IVF three times until finally on what you'd both agreed would be the final run you'd fallen pregnant.

it wasn't an easy birth with mason coming out feet first, and a grueling ten hour labour had you demanding any and all drugs they'd give you, snapping your wifes head off anytime her lips curled up in amusement, cursing her out over and over as you'd almost broken her hand squeezing it so hard.

but you'd done it and the moment you both laid eyes on him felt a surge of love different to anything you'd experienced before, and in that moment you and your wife made a silent promise that no matter what you would never let a soul harm so much as a hair on his head.

though mary had always been the more over protective out of the two of you, especially since mason had always been quite soft spoken and sensitive, taking after you in that sense.

he was a perfectly happy child, always with a beaming smile on his face and refusing to let either of you cut his hair meaning it hung down just past his shoulder blades, often tied back into a loose bun to keep it out of his eyes.

but as much as he loved to run around and climb trees, scraping his knees and coming home covered in dirt or leaves, he also found immense joy in letting you paint his nails, or allowing one of his aunties to braid his hair, and you and mary made no move to discourage any of it.

though you did have to step in when he decided he wanted to wear his underwear outside of his clothes to his school one day and you'd made him change. taking the bad cop role that day your heart broke as afterwards he ran crying to mary, the older girl sending you an empathetic smile as she rocked him back and forth.

but his soft and caring nature had meant once he was old enough to talk mary had made sure to constantly affirm and build up his own self confidence, making sure he knew how to stand up for himself despite your fussing that he would be fine, your wife forever worried he would be picked on for being that little bit different.

the goal keeper was a nervous wreck his first day of school, overthinking every little possibility that something would happen. you did everything in your power to try and assure her that though he took after you he was still her son, and had her same hard headed determination to any task he set his mind to.

to your collective relief even if more shy in nature, school brought him further out of his shell, turning him into quite the little social butterfly, you and mary needing to get him his own calendar for the fridge to keep track of the multitude of birthday parties, play dates and outings he was invited on.

"come on mase!" you called out, shaking your head with a smile as he struggled to choose which flowers to pick, the boy glancing over to you and sending a thumbs up, quickly pulling out a small handful. you laughed as he also grabbed a fistful of weeds, tucking them in with his little bouquet and racing back over to you.

"i couldn't choose what ones, didn't want to hurt the other flowers feelings." he huffed as you smiled, opening the gate as he ran past you and up the driveway. "careful please!" you warned as he took the front steps two at a time, your breath catching as he stumbled but fixed his footing, waiting for you patiently by the front door.

"bang your shoes please babe." you nodded as he stomped his feet, shaking off the excess dirt and you unlocked the door. you took the flowers from him and hung his bag up as he sat down on the floor and pulled his shoes off.

mary's car not yet in the driveway you knew she wasn't home, much to masons disappointment as he ran a lap of the house calling out for her until you reminded on tuesdays and thursdays she arrived home after he did, the boy nodding with a sigh.

knowing the way to his heart was the same as your wife you proposed some food, tilting his head back and kissing his forehead as he sat at the table and you placed a colouring book in front of him.

placing his flowers in a cup of water you busied yourself making him a sandwich, waiting patiently as he ticked over and over trying to decide what he wanted. "half and half? mama can have the same when she gets home." you offered as he nodded happily, attention dropping back down to his colouring.

making two sandwiches, one ham and cheese and the other with turkey you cut them in half, placing two halves aside for your wife. "bbq or prawn cocktail?" you asked holding up two packets of crisps, your son pointing to those in your left hand.

placing a handful onto his plate alongside some cut up strawberries you put everything away, mason asking if he could watch some tv as you nodded, helping him down and following after him. setting his plate down on the coffee table you clicked onto his favourite show and left him to it.

you glanced to the time with a slight frown, mary normally home no later than four. with a shrug you helped yourself to the sandwich you'd made her, placing away everything you'd used as you heard her keys in the front door.

"only me!" she yelled out letting herself in, a thump telling you she'd dropped her kit bag by the door making you roll your eyes at the small habit you were constantly telling her off for. "in here!" you called back, mason's head shooting up as he hurried to his feet.

"you're home!" he launched at mary the moment she rounded the corner, the tall girl grunting as his body rammed into her legs and she stumbled for a moment before catching her balance. "hello handsome, i missed ya!" mary grinned, pulling him up into her arms and kissing all over his face as he whined and tried to push her off.

"yeah she's gross isn't she mase." you teased sticking your tongue out making him giggle as your wife let him down and he raced back off to finish his show. "forever the charmer aren't you darling." mary rolled her eyes playfully, moving to press your body against the fridge, just out of sight of your son.

"stuck with me now." you grinned holding up your wedding ring as your wife pulled you into a kiss, mumbling that was exactly how she wanted it. "you're home late?" you questioned as she let you go, pecking your lips a few more times and pushing off of you.

"had to drop tooney home her car shit itself again!" mary rolled her eyes as you smacked her shoulder and nodded to the five year old within earshot. "sorry gorgeous." the girl smiled guiltily, you forever warning her about her language in front of mason, who was in the phase of repeating everything and anything.

you'd both found that out the hard way the other morning.

"good morning beautiful." your wife had sauntered into the kitchen, playfully smacking your bum as she breezed past you toward the coffee machine. "watch it earps." you'd warned playfully, flipping over the pancakes as she stuck her tongue out at you.

"good girl mumma!" your head snapped down toward your son who now stood beside you, looking up at you with his disheveled bed hair and a smile, hugging your leg.

"what did you just say love?" mary frowned as he climbed up to sit at the table across from her. "good girl! mummas a good girl." he repeated making your eyes widen as they locked with marys, which only twinkled with slight amusement.

"why do you say that mase?" mary asked, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to de-tangle it. "you said it mama, heard you this morning when you and mumma were wrestling." he chirped, busying himself playing with one of his toy cars, driving it along the table and making noises with his mouth as you choked on air in surprise at his words.

"i'm going to kill you." you mouthed seriously toward the smirking older girl, who'd been insistent your son wasn't awake when she'd had her way with you this morning, far too eager to get up and lock the door despite your worries.

dumping masons pancakes onto a plate you moved to place them in front of him once you'd cut them up, gently removing the toy car from his hand and giving him a fork.

"thanks sexy!" the boy grinned, repeating marys exact words she'd just spoke as you handed her her coffee a few seconds prior. "mase no, thats an adult word okay? you do not say whatever mama says." you'd warned sternly as he'd only shrugged, too busy devouring his pancakes.

safe to say you and mary hadn't wrestled for quite a while after that, much to her utter displeasure.

"oh thank you." you smiled as your son ran into the kitchen and handed you his now empty plate which you stacked in the dishwasher. "mama! those are for you, i picked them." he beamed pointing to the daises on the counter, marys entire face melting.

"oh mase, baby they're beautiful. thank you!" mary grinned, affectionately touching the flowers before bending down to wrap him in a tight hug. "tell mama about your day mase!" you nodded encouragingly as mary picked him up and sat him up on the counter.

he gestured his hands around wildly as he spoke making you smile as you watched on, mary over-acting her facial expressions to make sure he knew she was just as engaged in his story telling, taking a quick photo with your phone and tucking it back your pocket.

you stepped out of the room for a moment, retreating to your bedroom and changing, taking off your bra and sighing in relief as you swapped from jeans into a pair of joggers, tugging one of your wifes england hoodies on over the top.

though as you returned to the kitchen it seemed your timing was somewhat perfect to hear the one sentence you never thought you'd hear uttered in the earps household.

"and i was striker! and i'm gonna be striker on wednesday for sports day." mason beamed as you stopped in your tracks, watching marys face fall for a moment before she slapped a fake smile on, nodding through the pain in her eyes.

"hey mase? can you go and tidy up your toys on the floor of your room please." you called out, your son nodding as mary helped him down, slumping against the counter as he disappeared and you checked he was out of earshot.

"oh my love." you held back the urge to smile, opening your arms as the taller girl collapsed into them, chin resting on your shoulder as she let out a deep and troubled sigh. "a fucking striker. my own son!"

"mary." you warned, rubbing her back and feeling her huff. "there is goal keeping trophies, gears, posters, all around this house! and now he wants to be a fucking striker." mary unwrapped herself from you, pulling herself to sit up on the counter with a scowl.

"at least he wants to play?" you tried, moving to stand between her legs with your hands resting on her knees. "i'd rather he not play than be a bloody striker! no son of mine isn't going to follow in his mothers footsteps." mary shook her head firmly, a smile curling onto your lips.

"baby you can't force him to be a goal keeper." you laughed as she only scoffed. "i can and i will! just you watch." mary challenged, pushing you away with her foot and jumping down, calling out for mason.

"mary alexandra earps, you leave him be." you warned, your wife waving you off as your son appeared. "shall we go to the park and kick a football?" mary offered, mason nodding happily before he ran off to grab his shoes at her request.

"you are unbelievable."

~

you sat on a picnic blanket watching on with your arms crossed as your wife tried any and every way she could to sway masons mind.

"isn't this more fun?" mary cheered as she softly kicked the ball toward mason, makeshift goal set up using a few sticks to mark the posts as he shook his head, refusing to even move and try to stop it as it rolled past him.

"i wanna kick it!" he huffed, stamping his feet and flaring his nostrils, alerting you he was dangerously close to a meltdown. "mary!" you called out, raising your eyebrows as she waved you off.

"you do kick it! but only if you stop it, like i showed you before. try again!" she raced over to grab the ball, pausing to re-tie masons hair which had slipped out of the loose bun it was tied back into given the amount of times he'd furiously shaken his head at her.

you sighed with a shake of your own head, flopping down onto your back and closing your eyes, the warm rays of an impending sunset bathing your face. "yeah! like that." mary cheered as mason stopped the ball, but not before he kicked it hard as he could in the other direction and raced over toward you.

you grunted as he landed on top of you, tucking his head into your neck. "mama won't let me kick." he mumbled as you moved a hand to rub his back, sitting up and shooting your wife a stern look as she huffed and kicked at the ground like a scolded child.

"okay, sit up for me please mase." you gently pulled him away from you, setting him down to sit in your lap as he looked up at you with a frown. "don't do that, if the wind changes your face gets stuck like that forever!" you teased, smoothing out his eyebrows with your thumbs.

"can you do something for me?" he nodded at your words and you glanced over his shoulder to see mary lost in thought, staring away into the distance with a troubled look on her face. "you know how we go and watch mama play football yeah? in the big stadiums." he nodded again.

"well mama is a goal keeper. so strikers are like her bad guy, like how all superheros have a villian." you started. "like batman and riddler?" you now nodded at your sons words.

"but only when she's playing! its like pretend, all a big game. like when aunty lessi kicks the ball at mama and tries to get it in the goal? mama and aunty lessi are still best friends after the game right?" he nodded again.

"so why don't you ask mama if she'll take turns with you? you be the striker and then it's her turn, but you can't let her score when she's striker! otherwise the bad guys win." you smirked, tickling at his sides as he giggled but nodded, jumping off and running back toward mary.

you watched on as mary squatted down beside your son, holding his hands as the boy did his best to recount what you'd just told him, the smile returning to her face as she nodded happily at his words.

you knew this was only the start of a very long battle, knowing your wife well enough that this was only a band aid solution to the inevitability she would do anything in her power to have mason earps be the next big goal keeping name.

you laid back down in the sun grabbing your wifes sunglasses where they sat on the ground and slipping them on, the sounds of your families laughter causing a soft smile to curl onto your lips.

however your lack of watching had meant you'd missed mary call over your son and whisper something in his ear, the two of them growing bored of football and advancing toward you. "get her!" your eyes shot open at that as you pushed the sunglasses up onto your head just in time to see mason jump on top of you, mary following suit.

"no! no no no please." you begged as both your wife and sons fingers jabbed into your sides, your body thrashing as mary held you down with a grin, your laughter filling the air as masons own little giggles joined in.

"manchester is saved mase, bad guy defeated!" mary high fived the blonde as the two of them finally ceased their attack, mason running off to kick the ball as you struggled to catch your breath.

"never gets old." mary grinned cheekily, hovering over you and sweetly pecking your lips a few times as you shook your head and flipped her off, still trying to recover.

"just you wait till i call less and let her know her godsons choosing to follow in her footsteps instead of his own mothers!" you teased once you could speak again. "don't you dare." mary warned as she sat beside you, a beat of silence falling between you before you grabbed your phone and jumped to your feet.

"traitor! get her mason!" mary yelled after you as your son dropped the football in his hands and chased after you with a grin, mary quickly packing everything up into a bag.

"mama!" she glanced up as mason gestured toward you as you darted past her, mary easily grabbing you by the waist and tossing you over her shoulder.

"mary!" you laughed, smacking her back as she slung the bag over her free shoulder, taking masons hand as you shook your head, accepting the fact you were being carried home.

"manchester is saved once again!"

#mary earps x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #mary earps #woso

[icyg4l]

PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

#occult #hoodoo #tarotreading #tarot #astro notes #pick a pile #divination #metaphysical #pick a card #pick a reading #divination readings #channeled message #tarot reader #dailytarot #witchblr #witch community #oracle deck #tarot deck #free tarot #spirituality #spiritual #intuitive readings #tarotblr #paid readings #tarot reading #manifesting #law of assumption #neville goddard #daily tarot #tarot cards

[amuseoffyre]

Things worth remembering:

All Stede knows about Ed's breakdown is that it was because of him (You broke him/he took my leg cos I mentioned your name), He doesn't know about Ed's other trauma aside from his dad and while he knows Ed is disillusioned with pirating, he doesn't know the specifics about why.

Ed tends to speak in metaphors and while Stede tries to understand them, it's clear that sometimes he's missing the mark. Sometimes Ed isn't even sure of the metaphors himself, but once he has them, he holds onto them - the fish thing has got him especially.

And the thing is that Ed's only just learned to sit with himself in episode 5 and it's overwhelming him. At the beginning of 6, he's the stillest and quietest we've seen him and is gazing out to sea while having flashbacks to things he's done and people he's hurt (hello 1x09 callback).

And the thing is he's okay at the start of 7. He's made a decision about shedding the Blackbeard stuff. He doesn't say anything to anyone and he's ok until Jackie points out Stede is the rising star just when Ed wants out

He doesn't begrudge Stede being excited and happy with his new fame. He is afraid of what his presence has led Stede to: the conversation with Jackie is very much his "you defile beautiful things" moment, especially his presence brought Ned to Stede ("It's me you want").

He also doesn't understand why Stede killed Ned because Stede bottled up his trauma like his love letters. He doesn't even know why Stede a) became a pirate or b) went back to Mary, especially since Stede never actually told him where he'd been directly. He had to hear it from Anne - and Stede is betrayed by that as well ("I told you that in confidence")

Right now, he's feeling unmoored by his own identity and now Stede has taken a step that has fully changed him as a person too and dragged him straight back into the heart of piracy. He tells Jackie he wants out and she asks if Stede knows that and Ed's face just drops and he whispers "shit".

And he spends of the rest of the day thinking and quiet and realises that to process any of this mess, he needs to be away from the pirate world for a bit so he can get his head on straight because now it's roaring back in for him. He sits, he thinks, he realises he needs that space - he should speak to Stede but he tried that the day before and Stede still killed Ned.

Stede also lashes out, which definitely doesn't help. He's right. Ed is panicking, but Stede is also missing so many little clues. Ed never told him about dropping his leathers and Stede just sees him as Ed in other clothes. He doesn't understand the significance, even when everyone around them realises something is off. If even the Swede picks up on it, you know it's an obvious flag.

They both need to use their words and explain wtf is happening with both of them, but they are also both ridiculously traumatised by their past experience. Ed is afraid he's unlovable and now Stede is talking down his coping mechanism, so maybe he's right and Ed-as-Ed is unlovable, while Stede has been told his entire life he isn't enough, so becoming the ultimate pirate should be the win he's been looking for, only Ed isn't happy and Ed is leaving him, so maybe it's him that isn't enough after all.

They are both tangled up so much in their own histories and don't know enough about each others and that's why they keep lashing out and hurting each other so much - they each don't realise what they're saying is a different kind of weapon to the other.

#ofmd meta #ofmd s2

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 27. missed me?

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. therapist! toji. a very broken marriage (cont.). heavy angst but i am still not gege. infidelity/adultery. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.0k

notes: i hope everyone has been swell! sending hugs to every corner of the world, and i hope my writing can be your little break from reality. i have also added more chapters to the fic since i cannot wrap up the story in the next few chapters, ha. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

12:33 PM Toji called 12:33 PM He told me that my daughter collapsed in front of the twins? 12:34 PM And you got into a fight with her? 12:34 PM How did that happen? 12:34 PM Are you with her right now? 12:37 PM Answer me please, I need to make sure she’s fine (Missed Call) 12:38 PM Can you phone me back asap? Thx 12:38 PM I’m still in the office right now, wrapped up the weekly meeting with the operating committee 01:01 PM Hello? 01:01 PM Hey, are you there? (Missed Call) 01:12 PM Toji called again, he gave me a rundown, and I have to say… 01:12 PM I’m very, very disappointed in you

Perhaps the better word would be terrified, but Naoya was truly and genuinely astounded.

How the fuck did this happen?

Naoya could feel his breathing grow shallow and his body turn cold as he read through each message from his Chief Operating Officer once, twice, three times. For a while, he stared at his chat history, his shaking thumb hovering over the screen while his mind went blank.

What started as an argument between just you and him now had your father involved. Not only your father, though—but also Mai, Maki, and now Toji?! How bothersome. Of course, you had to drag everyone into this! The world always had to revolve around you.

Naoya could not think straight as his chauffeur sped him back to the office from Mari’s apartment later that day. Even when he returned to his CEO suite, he could hardly focus on his conversations with department heads or strategy discussions with the Board when Daisuke L/N’s messages haunted him like an omnipresent and malevolent spirit.

‘I’m very, very disappointed in you.’

Goddamnit!

Naoya did not miss how your father was absent from the afternoon’s meetings either (although he was not stupid enough to point that out aloud at work when Naoya himself was involved in why), nor did he miss his own father’s narrowed gaze which seemingly lingered on him longer than usual.

Oh goodness, did he know, too?

No, he couldn’t have. Otherwise, Naobito Zenin would have pulled him to the side by now and given him a long and stern lecture.

Yet, when the early evening arrived, Naoya ultimately decided he must talk to you directly.

Not because he actually cared about your well-being. (Ha, as if.) But because he needed to quash the possibility that the rest of his family, particularly his Board Chairman father, could get a whiff of his quarrel with you before all hell broke loose.

Moments like these warranted him to push aside his dignity before things could worsen. 

His greatest fear would be for this recent argument to become a domino effect, as the downfall in this marriage would certainly place him in hot water.

With that, the current Zenin CEO then tapped his phone for your contact.

He needed to check up on you but ended up in voicemail. 

So, he dialed once more. 

Voicemail.

Again. 

Why were you not picking up his calls? 

You always found a way to irk him with how ungrateful you could be. Sure, there was no secret that you hated him. He would admit he was rude, belittling, and patronizing, treating you like a trophy to tote around, a doll to splay at his will, and a woman who needed to learn her place. He knew this and you knew this, because he exclusively tolerated this marriage as a means to accelerate his life. 

Despite everything, he made sure his wife was well-fed and looked after, only for you to throw a tantrum and now get his extended family involved? Ludicrous. Why not focus on the good things about him? Could you not see how he had attempted to reach you at least thirty times throughout the day? (His ultimate reason admittedly was selfish, but that’s not the point.)

Anywho, since when did you think that ignoring him was acceptable?

In a frustrated fit, Naoya tossed his phone into his desk’s paper heap and huffed.

To set things straight, he had made many sacrifices in his life to get to his seat today, like how—back in the day—he had to watch TV anchors praise his older cousin while sipping champagne in the Maldives with…whatever girlfriend he had been with at the time. Life had been hard, but he at last had everything he should’ve been entitled to since birth. This position, this family, and this company belonged to him, regardless of what stupid fucking traditions dictated.

Unsurprisingly, when Naoya took the helm, everyone scrutinized him. Sure, he might have lacked in a few (or, more accurately, a lot of…) regards since he hadn’t been built into the position the way Toji Zenin had been, but having you as his wife made him look good in family conversations and public discourse. 

He just needed a little more time to get people to trust him. Then, once all the pieces clicked into place, he resolved to toss this marriage to the side.

That ‘time,’ he hoped, would be soon.

For now, he just needed to keep you for as long as he sought fit. 

Buzz.

Well, speak of the devil.

You must finally be returning his call.

The sky had gone dark in the windows behind him now, but Naoya practically leaped from his seat, scrambling and shoving papers aside to find his phone buried beneath several printed reports. He hated how his hands quivered as he held the device, not that he could control himself at this point, and he snapped the moment he swiped at his screen.

“Where the hell are you?” Naoya hissed, clipped and impatient.

He did not get an immediate response, which infuriated him even more since he taught you to acknowledge him on the phone. 

But then, he learned why.

Because instead, Naoya heard a low and harrowing chuckle.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

The end to a marriage, for obvious reasons, would never be as glamorous as the start to one.

Many would dream for years about a wedding, but far fewer would think the same about a separation.

‘I'm going to file for a divorce.’

Admittedly, you were nervous when you announced the decision aloud in a crowded room for many eyes to see and ears to hear.

After all, even if you recognized the need for a change in your matrimony, you feared the consequences. You didn't want to cause your families to grow apart or your fathers to resent you. In addition, Naoya had been such a dominating fixture in your life these past few months, and he had led you to believe your days without him would be meaningless.

However, no longer could you set aside your emotions for his sake, nor would you expend extensive effort to salvage your marriage for other’s desires. Your sole purpose henceforth was to live a satisfied life without sacrificing more than what you already have for a husband who hardly look your way.

As a result, when you acknowledged divorce as the best possible solution to your demise, you were grateful for the emotional support and relieved faces from your worried father, the younger teenagers, and your trusted therapists.

Especially Toji. 

“Come with me,” the very man ordered once you stepped into his apartment’s corridor with him. 

Everyone else had been brought down to the apartment’s lower level after the earlier discussion in the master bedroom, with Megumi forced to take on the role as host in his father’s absence. The younger Fushiguro might be aloof and sometimes awkward, but word had gotten around that he was a good chef with his aunts nagging at him to prepare dinner.

“C’mon, don’t you want to show us what recipes you have learned on TikTok?” 

“...No, not really. Can we just order KFC?”

The other conversation that drifted upward was between your father and the other three therapists, which made sense given that they all used to be colleagues back when Toji had been the CEO. 

There was laughter, chatter, and the entire brouhaha brought ease to your nervous heart. 

“Ladies first,” Toji said at some point after you had trailed behind him. He had taken you several meters ahead, opening the door to invite you inside. “This is my home office.”

You did not yet see the point in him doing a House Tour 2.0, but you walked in upon his gesture anyway. The hardwood floor beneath you felt warm, your body heating up slightly despite the coolness in the air. 

Toji kept his office space as tidy as the rest of his abode. He had a white leather couch situated by the doorway and a workspace configuration to the side with desk lamps, an expensive chair, and a dual monitor setup. 

Above his screens, Toji probably had fifteen accolades in cherry wood frames, each to showcase his achievements as countless magazines named him the best leader, the top executive, and the most promising innovator. 

What caught your attention, however, was the wall beside his workstation. 

There was a corkboard. 

At first glance, the tacked-on magazine cutouts and photograph snippings seemed like a messy litter on the brown surface, but thin red strings—which made this look like a detective movie prop—connected one piece to another and suggested an order to the chaos. 

“What is this?” you asked, a question not directed to anyone in particular as you neared the corkboard without waiting for Toji’s permission.

Upon closer distance, the vague letterings and images became clear.

The newspaper cover story fastened at the very center read in big bold print: “Zenin Corporation Announces New CEO.” 

As the realization dawned that this was what Toji meant to show you, the man’s measured footsteps came up from behind you. He stopped at your side, watching how you inspected each element on the corkboard as though his room was your laboratory and he was your professor.

“The World Economic Forum estimates that more than 5% of global GDP is lost to corruption around the world each year,” he began, crossing his thick arms firmly over his chest. “Many articles you see here had been published online only to be taken down not even a few hours later. I suspect that Naoya this year alone has spent hundreds of thousands, if not millions, bribing the Japanese media to curate the public image he needs.” He then pointed around. “Look for yourself.”

You would have called Toji out for being a total creep if the objective of this collection had not been obvious. With scarlet threads weaving together to reveal an elaborate web of deceit, Toji had been curating an exposé.

There was one photo from your wedding day. Standing at the altar with Naoya, you looked so happy and blissful back then, the vibrant bouquet in your hands a colorful contrast against the pristine white of your Vera Wang wedding gown, your face radiant with a smile oblivious to the heartache that would come.

This publication, you have seen before.

What you did not recognize, however, were the articles dated from nearly a year ago, well before your wedding day, with even more printed five months ago, two months ago, one week ago…

…and reading the titles made you feel sick.

Japanese Hotshot Shares Intimate Kisses with Rumored Girlfriend Photos Reveal Recently Married Executive’s Secret Affair? Exclusive: Zenin Corporation CEO Spotted in Mexico with Alleged Lover

The accompanying pictures had the same two subjects in plain clothes and baseball caps, showing off little skin to reveal their identities to prying busybodies. Yet, upon an immediate glance, you recognized Naoya Zenin as the taller figure and assumed his very precious ladyfriend must be the other.

Photographers had snapped the two embracing each other in a cab’s backseat, sharing a secret kiss after a luxury mall date, and holding hands while stepping into a private plane. 

All to say, you were revolted. 

The more you mulled on these printouts, the more you could feel visceral disgust build in your chest. 

To think you once contemplated saving a marriage with a man like that. Whatever his plan was for him and this woman, did he intend to make you a side character to their romance until the day you would die?

Your gaze darted around, and the photo with the most unobstructed view of their faces placed you on pause.

All of a sudden, a hard lump formed in your throat because, Holy shit, she’s…stunning. 

Seeing the woman who your husband had had his sights on immediately unlocked a whole new level of insecurities within you. 

No wonder Naoya could not bring himself to be married to you when he had her. 

The woman was exquisite, to say the least. Despite the picture’s poor quality, you noticed her bright elegant face, plump pink lips, and long full lashes—precisely the characteristics that would turn heads in a crowded room. In fact, you secretly wished that you possessed her overflowing pulchritude as well.

If she was an angel from your point of view, she must also be in Naoya’s eyes all the more. 

You gingerly drew a circle around her with a finger.

“Is she his mistress?” 

Why did you even ask that? You already knew the answer. But, you wanted to confirm the facts rather than satisfy your curiosity. 

Meanwhile, Toji ran his index finger very slowly over his lower lip. 

He answered a while later. 

“Yes.” As you had expected. Then, he added, “But she’s also my ex-wife.”

What��

Your jaw dropped to the trenches. 

If you thought tonight had been filled with enough revelations, this one really sealed the deal. 

His…ex-wife?!

Unlike the man before you, hiding your deepest emotions had never been your forte. Instead, you had gone stiff as your mind reeled in shock.

“She’s…Tsumiki’s mom,” you said quietly at the realization. 

Yes, you have heard a lot about her. However, to make the connection between the lady in the picture and the woman who owned currently Naoya’s (and previously Toji’s) devotion stirred awake a thousand emotions. 

Anger. Bitterness. Resentment. 

Megumi had told you plenty about her before.

‘Treated me like a bag of shit, spent all my dad’s money on her shopping sprees every weekend, and even neglected her own daughter—my stepsister.’

Her pretty face could only go so far in disguising her dark heart. 

With this understanding, you finally grasped Toji’s bitterness when he first met you. How fickle fate had been to him. Comical, even! For his younger cousin to take his succession rights to the clan, his executive position in the company, and—to top everything off—his wife from his family. Only for you (of all eight billion people in the world) to show up at Toji Fushiguro’s office asking for sex therapy?

Now, you comprehended why Toji and Naoya despised each other. 

In addition, you understood why Toji and his colleagues had been suspicious of you. Trust takes time to build yet a moment to shatter, and all of them have had this trust broken before. By Naoya, yes. 

But also, by her.

“What’s her name?” you had to ask, ignoring the searing ache in your heart.

Your therapist, on the other hand, tried to play off his vexation by shoving his hands into his front pockets.

“Mari,” and also, “She still uses my last name.”

Wow. 

The audacity that some people in the world have.

“Here let me help.”

“Hm?”

At first, you did not quite get what Toji was referring to until he started tearing the magazine photos and newspaper stories.

Wordlessly, you gawked at him, both in confusion and astonishment.

“Why—”

Before you could complete the thought, Toji had placed everything into a neat stack and thrust the pile into your hands. “There,” he said with finality. “If you are to file for a divorce, take these to Naoya. See what the bastard has to say. Staying with him any longer would be a fatal flaw.”

Toji had never seen a single interaction between you and his cousin in person, yet he could confidently say your husband was the hamartia in your life. Perhaps the signs had always been obvious. Or perhaps, his recent experience in a toxic marriage allowed Toji to notice the red flags in yours from miles away.

“If you give him too much time, he’ll come up with his offenses,” he went on. “We don’t need to outfight him, though. We simply need to outthink him.”

Something about Toji’s emerald eyes gleamed in a way you had not seen before. 

It was a different side to him, one where he planned and strategized, a flickering core of the businessman he used to be.

“Hi.” 

You and Toji froze at the sound.

Megumi’s voice had startled you two as the boy peered in from the hallway, waving a phone in his hand—your phone. “Sorry to interrupt but, uh, he called again.”

Interestingly enough, Megumi did not need to explicitly mention a name for you all to know who he referred to. As your screen flickered on, you noticed the numerous missed calls and text messages that had flooded your notifications, all from one particular culprit, no doubt. 

Instead of embarrassment, your body surged with aggravation at how your husband suddenly seemed desperate to know your whereabouts. 

So now he cared, huh?

Before you could retrace your steps towards the door, however, Toji had already done so. He retrieved the device from his son’s hands and started dialing a number from your phone. 

You tried to stop him. “Hey, what are you—”

But Toji dismissed you, pressing your phone to his ear as the call began to ring, and his lips curled into a wicked grin when the other line must have picked up.

“I guess you missed me, kid.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I am excited to show the interaction between Toji and Naoya—I have been thinking about their conversation for a long time! This chapter is less of a whirlwind and more of a setup for the rest to come. Thank you for your support!

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#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk season 2 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya x y/n #toji #toji fushiguro #naoya #Naoya zenin #sukuna #choso #suguru #megumi #anime #fanfic #fanfiction #jamms.sextherapy

[willixmsonswife]

rest/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *the word 'rest' is simply not included in leah's vocabulary *tiny argument and mentions of her torn acl at the beginning but happy end :)

*2.75k words

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

"I tore my acl." Those were definitely not the words I wanted to hear from Leah when I walked into her room. I had watched her limp off the pitch during the match and I wasn't able to concentrate on the rest of it. I had to wait until she was in the hospital to see her because the security wouldn't let me. "She's my best friend, she needs me!" didn't really change their mind.

So I waited three hours in my apartment, car keys in one hand, phone in the other. I almost dropped my phone when it rang and immediately accepted the call. "Hello?" I tried to hide the worry in my voice but it was still very present. "Hello is this y/n y/l/n?" An unfamiliar voice answered. "Yes, that's me. Who is this?" Maybe it wasn't the call I was expecting. "I'm a nurse at the St. Marys Hospital in London and I'm calling for Leah Williamson. She would've called herself but she has to undergo an MRI at the moment. I'm calling you because your number was marked as the one to call if something happened and I think she really needs someone to be by her side." I felt my heart drop further and further while the nurse talked. Leah had to undergo an MRI by herself and I was probably the only person that knew that she was terrified of those machines. Plus, an MRI was not a good sign for her knee. "Okay, thank you for calling me. I'll be there in 15 minutes." I hung up and just stared at my phone. What if she really tore her acl? What if she couldn't play football for the rest of the year? That would be pure torture for her and it would absolutely destroy her not only physically but mentally. She worked so hard to be selected for the World Cup and wore the captain armband with pride every single time. I had to be there for her through all of it. I stood up and drove to the hospital as fast as I could.

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

"Excuse me? I'm here to see Leah Williamson. A nurse called me earlier saying that-"

"Ah yes, you are miss y/l/n right?"

"Yes, yes that's me."

"Miss Williamson is currently staying in room 204 which is just across the corridor on the right side." She pointed towards the direction and I thanked her before searching for the right room. 200, 202, 204. There it was. I took a deep breath. I had to be calm now, I had to pull myself together for Leah.

I knocked three times and heard her response soon after. "Come in." So I did. The first thing I saw as I entered were her jersey and her shorts, neatly folded on a chair at the other end of the room. I took a few steps towards her bed but she only looked at me when I stood directly next to her. "I tore my acl." Her eyes were bloodshot and I could hear in her voice that she already cried. "Lee, I-"

"No. Please don't say anything. I don't want to hear your encouragements and how everything's going to be fine! It's not! I'm not able to play in Australia and I'm gonna let the whole team down! It's not going to be fine!" Her voice became louder and louder while she talked and she screamed the last sentence. I was well aware that this anger was not directed towards me but more towards the fact that this happened to her, now, and that she couldn't do anything about it. So instead of telling her that, I hugged her tight. I could feel her tense muscles relaxing at my touch and she just gave in to her feelings. "Why did it have to be me? Why now?" She said in between sobs, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know Leah, I'm so sorry." I just held her and rubbed her back comfortingly while she cried.

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

This whole situation happened over two months ago. Leah was now past the surgery and had started rehab. It was going well but one thing bothered me extremely. "Leah?" I stopped the episode I was watching and sat up from the sofa. The apartment was completely silent now that the tv had stopped. "Lee?" I went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door. "Yes?" I opened the door and was met by Leah standing in front of her closet, only dressed in shorts and a bra, holding up a dress and a blazer. My eyes instantly moved from her well trained body to the floor, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. "Oh hi y/n. What's up?"

"I, eh- I called you from down stairs. Wanted to know what I should make for dinner."

"Oh right. You-" She turned around to face me and saw me looking down, embarrassment unfortunately still clearly written on my face. "You can look at me y'know?"

"Oh, I just- I didn't know if-"

"y/n, we're living together. We're best friends and room mates. I'm absolutely not bothered by you looking at me and it does not make me feel uncomfortable. Trust me." I lifted my head and her piercing blue eyes looked straight into mine. My cheeks immediately turned a bit redder but I tried to ignore it, hoping that she didn't notice. Unknown to me, she did and she wasn't upset about it one bit. "So, dinner. What should I make?"

"Actually, I'm going out this evening. You only have to cook for yourself."

"What? You're going out? Again? With who and where?"

"With Alex, she invited me as her plus one to this event and-"

"Lee you can not possibly be serious right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Leah, you had your surgery two months ago and only started rehab, It's going well, yes, but the doctor still said that you have to take things slow especially going out for so long. You already met up with over ten different people in not even two weeks! You have to rest and give your knee a break, please."

"Oh and you suddenly care about that? So you don't want me to return to my normal life and just have fun with my friends? You want me to stay home and just do nothing apart from the rehab? What great best friend you are!"

I tried my best to stay calm, not wanting to start an argument at this moment.

"That's not what I said and you know that. I just don't want you overwork your knee and set you back in you rehab because we both know that that's the last thing you would want right now. You just have to accept that your life is not the same as before right now but-"

"I know that it's not the same! I had to actually come to terms with the change, you didn't! You could just continue your life like nothing happened because nothing happened to you! You didn't tear your acl, you didn't have to undergo surgery, you don't have to go to rehab four times a week because your life didn't change one bit!" I did not expect her to start yelling at me. I just stood there and didn't move, scared that she would just snap again. I did not deserve any of those accusations and I was totally aware of that.

"You know what? Go to your event. Why don't you just stay at Alex' house for that matter? So you two can just party all night long and forget about everything."

I saw in Leah's eyes that she knew she had overstepped a line. "y/n-" She took a step forward and reached for my hand but I stepped back.

"No. You don't get to do that Leah. I know that your life is hard right now but I'm doing everything I can to help and support you. I cook for you, I drive you everywhere, I go to rehab with you because you don't want to feel alone and I even started to work from home just so you don't have to feel lonely in our apartment! And you know why I do that? Because I love you okay? I love you Leah and I would do everything for you, even tear my own acl just so you have someone who feels what you had to feel! I love you way more than I should and I'm sorry that I care about your health and your wellbeing so much."

With those words I left her room and stormed into mine, which was just across from hers. I slammed the door shut before she could even think about following me. Hot tears streamed over my cheeks as I sat down on the edge of my bed. Leah and I rarely argued which I was extremely thankful for. And normally we always apologized to each other minutes after it enden because we couldn't stand the thought of being mad at one another. But not this time. This fight was the biggest one we've had and I knew that it wouldn't just be solved by saying sorry.

Thinking about the fight, I realized what I said to her. Did I actually confess my feelings to her in an argument? Oh god. I let myself fall onto my bed and just wanted to turn back time. How could I be so stupid and let my emotions get the best of me?

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

About half an hour later I heard Leah's door open. I could hear her stop in front of my door and I imagined her standing there, only a few meters away from me, contemplating what to do or say next. Then she knocked. "y/n?" I couldn't get myself to answer and just continued to stare at my ceiling. At least I had stopped crying now. "I- fuck. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. That argument escalated way too fast and I- I don't even know what I wanna say. I'm sorry. I'm going now, Alex is waiting outside. Call me tomorrow, please."Her voice broke and I could hear that she was as close to crying as I was. And yet, I didn't answer. She was allowed to do whatever she wanted and I was not going to stop her. I listened to her steps as she walked downstairs, struggled to put on her shoes and finally left the house. She didn't slam the door like I did, she closed it carefully, like everything was normal. Except it wasn't. I had this weird feeling like something heavy was laying on my chest and I couldn't breathe properly. Maybe it was good that she left, maybe that was what we needed. A watery smile appeared on my lips when I thought about it. Who was I even kidding? I already missed her even though she only left 10 minutes ago. How pathetic was that? I slowly made my way out of my bed and carefully opened the door as if someone was still here that I could possibly bother. I took the same steps down stairs that Leah took only a few moments ago. The tv was still on pause so I just sat down and continued to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S aimlessly. Just when I thought about calling Keira to tell her about everything that had happened, I heard someone opening the door. Who was that? The only person who had a spare key was Keira and the last time I checked she was in Barcelona. My eyes were fixed on the door. The remote In my right hand, I was ready to throw it at- "Leah?" I lowered my hand and looked at her confused. "What the fuck are you doing here? You're supposed to go out with Alex." My confusion was replaced by slight anger as I recalled the events from earlier. "Oh y/n, I- I didn't expect you to be downstairs. I thought-"

"What are you doing here Leah?"

She closed the door behind here and took her shoes off before she came to sit on the couch next to me. I turned so I could face her and watched her carefully as she placed a bag on the small table next to us. "Please let me talk y/n. I need to apologize to you."

I nodded, signaling her to continue and that I was listening.

"Okay so, I need to tell you that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of the things that I said earlier because you don't deserve it. You did everything you could for me and I took it for granted which it's absolutely not. You didn't have to do that and yet you still did because you care for me. You stayed by my side during the time before the surgery, encouraged me right before it and were the first to visit me afterwards. You helped me come home and made me feel more at home than I ever felt before. I want to thank you for that. It might take more than just this apology but I'm willing to do everything for you that you did for me."

"Leah-"

"No, I'm not finished." She took my hands in hers and gently stroke her thumb over the back of my hand.

"During those couple months, I could always count on you, you were always there for me. You made me feel things I never felt before. I'm not the best at expressing my emotions and I think you're aware of that." I chuckled and a small smile made its way onto her face. "But this is different. Every time you drove me somewhere, rehab, the store, literally anywhere and put your hand on my thigh to comfort me, it felt like small fireworks exploded in my whole body. I had no idea why that was the case but I just always wanted to be close to you. Every single touch, every single look, every single hug wasn't enough because I wanted to feel you close the entire time. What I'm trying to say is, I think I fell for you. No, scratch that. I'm madly in love with you y/n and when you told me that you felt the same in my room, my brain just couldn't process the fact that you actually said that." She let out a slight chuckle and looked directly into my eyes. "I like you too y/n."

"I- wow. I did not expect that. Are you serious?"

"One hundred twenty percent." I smiled and leaned forward to hug her. "Thank you Lee, I really appreciate it." I felt her place a kiss on my temple and my heart swell at that small gesture. "So what's in that bag?" I asked as I let go of her. "Take out from the Japanese restaurant that you love so much. I thought you might don't wanna cook after this whole thing."

I just looked at her, sitting in front of me, eyes full of love. "Thank you Lee. It's perfect honestly." I grabbed one of the take out boxes and Leah got us two forks from the kitchen. We settled on the couch and continued to watch the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S that I had started.

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

I finished before her and 'obliviously' put my hand on her thigh, tracing random patterns on it. I could feel her tense and just grinned. She placed her empty box on the table and I shifted in my seat until I faced her. She sensed my gaze on her and turned her head. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Nope, nothing." I moved my hand up a bit more and Leah's cheeks turned a dark shade of red. "So, I set off small fireworks in you?" I smirked at her teasingly and she just looked down, trying to hide her now crimson red cheeks. I lifted her head with one finger and leaned forward. "Was is too much?"

"Not at all Lee. I'm just glad to know that I'm not alone with that feeling." I whispered against her lips before I closed the gap and enjoyed her soft lips on mine. We parted after a few seconds and I rested my head on her chest. "It might take more than one kiss like that to convince me that you're not lying about this." I grinned and Leah let out a small laugh. "I think that's possible to arrange."

i'm baaack! this maybe took a bit more than a few day but eyyy, at least i finished it. i hope you liked it :)

and this whole text is not proofread so i apologize in advance for any possible mistakes

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc #arsenal women

[trick-or-fucking-treat]

Hello! I hope you are doing great! But I was just wondering if I may request head-cannons for Bo Sinclair with a fem s/o who is like the cliche innocent good girl (loves wearing bows and ribbons, frilly cute dresses, Mary janes…) I feel like this would be an interesting dynamic with Bo (that he would absolutely EAT UP because that man is insane and you can’t tell he wouldn’t love the idea of “corrupting” someone or even like protecting the reader and shielding her from the world…) If not, that’s fine! But thank you and have a great day!

Bo Sinclair with innocent girly-girl (fem) S/O

Masterlist

When you strolled into town one day, Bo did not think you were real

I mean, pink… frilly dresses… ribbons!

Bo doesn’t leave town much so he can’t say for sure, but he didn’t think there were girls who actually dressed like that

He also didn’t think you’d be his type

And yet…

Bo and Vincent had killed all your friends, as per usual, but you hadn’t been there to witness it

You were such a sweetheart when Bo found you and you asked where your friends were

He couldn’t tell you

Instead, he told you they left without you

You were devastated, but Bo thought he’d done good(ish) by protecting you from a worse evil

He kept you around for while under the pretence that your friends might come back looking for you

Eventually the truth came out about Bo, his brothers, and the town

But by this point you’d already fallen hard and fast for Bo

You were everything Bo never knew he needed, and just about the cutest thing he’d ever seen

“Aww doll that’s damn sweet of ya! But there’s no need to bring beers to the garage, i’s all dirty in ‘ere and your dress is all pretty!”

He thought you deserved better than a ruthless killer like himself, but wants to keep you for himself nonetheless

He was shocked when you agreed to stay but did not complain

Would never admit it but loves playing with your hair, especially after you teach him how to plait it and tie the ribbons all pretty

Never lets you around new victims visitors

Doesn’t want you getting attached or upset, and doesn’t want you near all the gory happenings

(Won’t admit it, but he also doesn’t want to see you disappointed in him because he still thinks he doesn’t deserve you - doesn’t want you thinking that leaving him is a better option, either)

Kind of treats you like glass sometimes - never wants to distress you or be harsh with you and gets apologetic real quick if he’s snappy

“God, ‘m sorry baby I didn’t mean t’ snap at ya!”

“Lester better not’ve told you about the trouble last night! I swear to God I’ll kill him!” - “Bo! It’s fine! We were just chatting!” - “Doesn’t matter! You don’t need to hear all that nonsense!”

It’s nice, but you know he’s holding back

After he gets more comfortable with the relationship he’s a little less gentle

Still an absolute sweetheart and never intentionally upsets you, but he enjoys teasing you and lets you see the real him a little more

“Be careful there doll.. I don’t know anyone else who would describe me as a sweetheart. Wouldn’t want ya to see their point of view now would we?”

He’s testing your boundaries a little to see if opening up is going to scare you off

You can see the playful and often hopeful glint in his eyes though and know he would never hurt you

(P.s. sex with Bo started out so gentle and loving, but you knew he wanted to ruin you - corruption kink in full force once you finally let him)

(Wouldn’t do anything you don’t like though, any sign you’re not enjoying yourself and he’s stopping and making it up to you)

Eventually comes to face the fact that you’ve made him a better person - he’s still a psycho and a killer, but he never thought he could love and care for another person like he loves you

A/N: thanks for the request! So so sorry it took so long! Lmk if there’s anything else you’d like added, and feel free to request!

#slasher #slashers #slashers x reader #bo sinclair x reader headcanons #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #horror

[poetrysmackdown]

WELCOME TO ROUND 2 OF THE POETRY SMACKDOWN

Hello again. First I just wanna say how excited I am at the response to this bracket. I was going to consider it a smashing success if like forty people voted, so needless to say it has outperformed my expectations, and I’ve really really enjoyed talking with folks and seeing everyone's responses to these poems! That said, 14/16 of my votes were in the minority, so actually fuck you guys. 🩷

Anyways Round 2! Transcriptions are included this time in alt text—sincere apologies to everyone for whom Round 1 was inaccessible, and many thanks to @army-of-bee-assassins and @accessibleaesthetics for being so generous with their helpful advice and feedback. I'm still going back and forth about whether to include just alt text or to include the image descriptions in the body of the post as well, but I've reformatted it in my drafts like twice already so at this point I'm just hitting publish and opening it up for feedback.

I've also included links to readings by the author for all the poems where one was available, for anyone interested in getting a fresh perspective.

enjoy! -amelia @poetriarchy

ROUND 2: ENDS JULY 26th at 6pm EDT

“The Two-Headed Calf” by Laura Gilpin vs. “Poem” by Langston Hughes

"Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love." by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. “Hammond B3 Organ Cistern” by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

“someone will remember us” (Fragment 147 from Sappho trans. Anne Carson) vs. “The Quiet World” by Jeffrey McDaniel

“Come. And Be My Baby” by Maya Angelou vs. “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

“The Orange” by Wendy Cope vs. “Instructions on Not Giving Up” by Ada Limón

“To The Young Who Want to Die” by Gwendolyn Brooks vs. “Meditations in an Emergency” by Cameron Awkward-Rich

“I’m not a religious person but” by Chen Chen vs. “How to Be a Dog” by Andrew Kane

“I’m Going Back to Minnesota Where Sadness Makes Sense” by Danez Smith vs. “Having ‘Having a Coke With You’ With You” by Mark Leidner

#round2 #poetry smackdown #poetry #poll #don't ask why i'm wasting my time on these stupid graphics lol. just know it's not smart of me #masterpost