#heart defect awareness
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MHA Men and Their Children
Hello, loves! SuntoryAngel here! This will probably be the last post I have for a while to better focus upon the upcoming recovery coming my way. Myself, husband, and soon-to-be-born baby girl will be spending a month in the NICU where she will be undergoing lots of medical care/treatments for her heart defect. In the meantime, please enjoy and as always please let me know what you think!
F!Reader x various; pronouns are “She/Her”; Age: All characters are 18+ Warnings: Language, triggers, suggestive themes, 18+ will be marked with a 🔥, fluff, comfort, cuteness!
Izuku “Deku”
You startle awake, finding your ears ringing with how silent the air while reflexively reaching for the opposite side of the bed where another should be. There was no sign of him as you sat upright. Brief fear penetrated your being as a sound came from outside the bedroom’s cracked door. Was there an intruder and he had gone to investigate? No, there wasn’t a single villain alive who would dare take a risk like that. Not when your husband was the current Number One. That didn’t mean some stupid lower level who would take such a chance just to have their two seconds of fame on tv. Protective instinct rose as you realized that the sounds were coming from the direction of the nursery. No way was someone going to lay their hands on your children.
Silently and quickly you made your way to the door as one of the hallway lights flickered.
The breath you were in the middle of taking stalled as a shadow passed by the door.
Someone was here.
And your children were in one of the other rooms while you were at least twelve feet away.
Where was Izuku though?
“Mama?”
A slight shriek made to slip up your throat when glancing down to spot your four-year-old standing within the now open bedroom doorway, staring up at you with eyes that matched his father’s. “Emmry, honey, what are you doing out of bed in the middle of the night?” You dropped to one knee while collecting him in your arms, attempting to slow the hammering of your heart as he snuggled into your chest. “Scaring mama like that isn’t very nice, you had her thinking that someone was here who isn’t supposed to be.”
“No stranger danger, mama, I sowy.”
Your lips met his temple. “Did you have a bad dream that had to leave your little sister all by her lonesome? Come on, let’s get you back to bed so that she isn’t alone.”
“Can’t, mama, the snoring too loud!”
The step you’d been about to take into the hallway stalled. Snoring? Was the newest addition to your family falling ill? Just in case you grabbed the small basket that rested next to the door that was your nighttime kit full of various items to help with such situations while keeping a tight hold on your son. “Megumi is so tiny, how can her snoring bother you so much?”
Emmry’s little head shook as you paused outside the nursery door, small hands rising to cover his ears as you made to enter the room your children shared. You gently reminded him to use his words by means of a light finger tap against his lips that earned a pout. “Baby not snoring, she quiet, it’s dada.”
That caused you to hesitate.
The notion of Izuku being in the nursery wasn’t the odd part but the fact that his snoring had caused the eldest of the children to seek sleep somewhere else was. In the six years of your marriage you hadn’t once heard the freckled hero make so much of a peep in his sleep no matter how congested he became with a cold so excuse the disbelief you felt while staring at the door with a wide eyed gaze. It became wider when from the other side came an unmistakable drawn out elephant-fighting-a-walrus noise that was worthy of a nature documentary sounded. How had you not heard that through the baby monitor that was sitting on your bedside table?!
“Not lying, mama, too loud!”
You quickly hushed the little boy who clung to your nightshirt, unable to stem the curiosity that had filled you at this new discovery, and proceeded to crack the door open.
There, on the opposite end of the room faintly illuminated by the aurora nightlight that often soothed the children to sleep faster than any lullaby or storybook with its slow dancing colors, was the spread eagled man who was your husband with the tiny form that was your infant daughter splayed across the span of his chest that rose and fell in correspondence to the snores that permeated the air. He was a side sleeper who hated being on his back but the scene of him laying across the shag carpet floor without even a pillow or blanket covering him was truly a sight to behold as the matching “All Might” shirt he was wearing was mirrored by her tiny onesie that he’d hunted down to the very corners of the internet was almost too much for you to take. The pair seemed to shift, almost making you think they were going to wake, when the scarred right hand of Izuku lightly tapped his fingers along the spine of his whimpering child with expert precision that soon had her snuggling back into his warmth.
With a fond smile, you gently closed the door and nuzzled the young boy who yawned widely. “How about you sleep with mama tonight, hm? You can take over dada’s spot.” The excited smile that was flashed was overtaken by another yawn as you turned away from the door. A swipe of your finger across the baby monitor’s screen after tucking him into the sheets captured the visage that had been waiting for you and with a fond smile slipped back within the comfort of slumber along with your son who had instantly curled himself into as small of a ball as possible then tuck himself between your chin and tucked legs.
Keigo “Hawks” (🔥 for lactation kink)
Feathers lightly tickled against your sides. “H-hey, now, whose side are you on?” You playfully teased while shifting in your seat in attempts to escape the devious crimson appendages. “I’m trying to feed your starving children in case you haven’t noticed!”
“I’m just making sure that my mama bird is comfortable within the nest I built her, is that so horrible?”
“Come off it, you’re just trying to get a rile out of me to get back because they cock-blocked you last night.”
Amber eyes that had been closely watching the final member of the triplets within the nearby playpen locked on your gaze, revealing mock hurt. “I would never. Our baby birdies come first.”
You weren’t buying his façade though thanks to the lingering shadow of desire that lingered within his gaze that lingered upon your breasts which were currently being occupied by two very hungry mouths. “Seriously, Keigo, what’s gotten into you lately? We knew it was going to be a lot of work when we found out months ago but you’ve been acting odd ever since we got home from the hospital.” The snap of your fingers diverted his attention from the infants sucking your breasts and that was when it hit you of the possible reasoning behind the winged hero’s recent behavioral changes.
It wasn’t until you made sure that the triplets were properly fed, changed and laid down for their naps that you took action though.
He was in the kitchen, feathers darting across the space while performing various tasks from washing dishes to clearing away the leftovers from lunch, a fond smile lifting your lips at the scene. Postpartum recovery had gone smoothly for you all thanks to the man before you who now wore a flowered apron overtop his tight fitting workout wear. Even juggling the three children and your needs he still managed to keep himself in proper shape for when it was time to return to work, which wouldn’t be long now, and though the notion left you feelingly a bit sad it was what he needed. The slight turn of his body towards the pantry gave you the opening to enter without him seeing and earned a soft hum when your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “Hey, mama bird, did they go down okay?”
“They’re sleeping like rocks thanks to the generous meal their mama gave them…but there’s plenty if you want a taste.”
Silence fell as each and every feather halted.
For a moment you thought he was going to deny or recoil from your suggestion but the sheer speed that the chores were carried out in left you nearly gaping in surprise as he suddenly spun on his heel while tearing off the apron and clung to his shoulders as he lifted you off the ground to plop you on the cleaned countertop, his lips instantly latching themselves upon your neck. The softest of moans sounded from deep within your throat as his hips lightly brushed against your own, the waistband of his biker style shorts teasing the sensitive scar that was from the C-section. “You sure?” he growled against your being as your fingers gently combed through his ashy hair. “Been so damn curious this whole time and they get to have it all to themselves…”
“All you had to do was ask.” The breathless whisper that slipped from between your lips as his fingers made easy work of the button up shirt you wore seemed to fuel his anticipation, the tip of his nose trailing lower until it came to a stop at the underlying nursing bra’s clasp. “They’re a bit bigger now, the doctors warned about that—” Your words were drowned in an appreciative moan as his hands carefully massaged them through the fabric. They’d been so sore thanks to the near constant nursing and swelling of your body keeping up with the hungry triplets that even this kind of touch was sending light sparks of electricity down your spine. “Oooh, Keigo~…”
His answer was a soft hum as the clasp was undone, allowing your breasts to spill forth from their prison, fingers remaining soft as they drifted across the clearly swollen flesh. The lids of your eyes drifted closed as the compulsion to grab a nearby towel as telltale pooling seeped into your nipples that told of liquid forming and a gasp slipped from between your lips as lips kissed each in turn. It was as if a switch had been flipped as you suddenly found yourself being pulled off the counter and sinking into the familiar duvet cover that was atop of your bed with his hot breath fanning your exposed chest. “Damn, kid, you’re killing me here…so fucking gorgeous…”
A soft whine sounded from your throat as his lips hovered over the left, wordlessly begging for him to take it into his mouth by arching your back, and hurried to bite your lip to quell the groan that rose when he finally did. There was no hesitation as he immediately took a draw that caused more of the white liquid to spill from the teat he now held captive between his lips. What you weren’t expecting was him to become more vigorous in his actions with each slow passing second that he remained attached to that nipple. “N-not so rough,” you sighed when a twinge of pain flared up as his teeth toyed with the bud, “please, Keigo, gentler.”
His ministrations instantly softened until the pressure was barely noticeable those amber eyes of his that had closed in concentration opening to peer up at you through their lashes, the bright blaze of arousal and desire dimming when noting how your expression shifted from painful to near euphoric. “Feelin’ good, mommy?”
It took a moment but you realized what he was truly asking, your hand rising to pet and comb through his hair with smooth strokes as a smile lifted the corners of your lips. “Yes, Keigo, you’re making mommy feel so good. How does she taste, hm?” Your voice dipped an octave as a light blush entered his cheeks. “Does it make you want more?”
The enclosure of his lips around the bud once more was his answer, along with the shallowest ruts of his hips against the bed.
“Does someone want more?”
“Please, mommy, I’ve been a good boy—” the press of your hand to the back of his head caused the rest of his sentence to be drowned in a loud swallow as the pressure caused more of your milk to flood his mouth, his eyes rolling backward as your leg that had been pinned by his hips gave an experimental grind against the growing erection.
Your lips lifted into a smirk as after a few more calculated rotations of your leg caused the man to stiffen as if he were attempting to hold himself back from an orgasm, but he had been right; he’d been such a good boy that he deserved a reward. Gently pulling away you shifted him to the other breast that had begun to feel neglected while sneaking a hand down to cup him through the athletic shorts, his moan reverberating through your flesh as he discovered that more of the liquid he’d been craving to taste was waiting for him. “Yes, you’re such a good boy, Keigo, mommy is going to make sure you feel amazing now. Just focus on drinking your fill and leave everything to me.”
Shoto Todoroki
“Every time you hold her, she starts crying.”
Your heart twinged a bit, unable to bring yourself to reprimand your husband as he quickly recollected the sobbing infant who had literally just been placed within her waiting grandfather’s arms who now wore a crestfallen expression. “I’m sure she’ll warm up to you—”
“Good girl.”
“Shoto!” A twitch rose in the corner of your eye as your fingers lightly flicking your passing husband’s arm when he departed for the kitchen.
The large man seated upon your couch seemed to regain his composure as you sighed. “Don’t bother. I know he still has yet to fully forgive me for everything I have put him through.”
Practically the whole world knew of the bad blood between the two pro heroes; father and son duo who had been at odds since the very beginning due to the rough upbringing he had put the youngest of his children through along with his wife who suffered heavy emotional damage. Shoto though had come a long way since his days at UA, where the two of you had met, becoming the man who may as well be a modern day chivalrous knight albeit lacking of certain social skills that others possessed. You didn’t care then and certainly don’t now while watching him settle within the rocking chair to begin feeding his daughter.
“Perhaps it is my scar that frightens her.”
“Doubt it.” The words had leapt from between your lips before you’d even realized it but they were true. As if to prove their truth the tiny infant cooing softly reached up with a waving hand until the duo haired hero bring his head down far enough for her tiny palm to meet the scar on his face. Chubby fingers looked ready to grab at his skin but they instead seemed to lightly pat at the darker hued area with care as if attempting to offer comfort to the adult who held her. Your lips couldn’t help the smile that raised them as Shoto’s expression became gentle. “He was so scared that she would be afraid of his that he honestly couldn’t hold her for the first few days until she outright refused anyone else, including myself, so she left him no choice but to finally hold her the night before we brought her home. That was when she slept the whole night through.”
Sensing your gaze, his rose to meet our own to reveal warm duo eyes so full of gratitude and love that every cell in your body swelled in fondness of the image they created. How could so much emotion be within a person’s gaze? He may not be one for words yet there was no denying all that you’ve seen him display during your time together. This, right here, seeing him feeding his infant daughter who treated a scar he once despised with such care, nearly moved you to tears. Shoto had been such a huge help when you’d discovered that your body wasn’t responding to her hunger cues, that it may be possible that you just couldn’t produce breast milk, and had devoted every fiber of his being to comforting you along with extensive research into which formula would be best for his daughter.
You turn your attention back to the silent pro who watched his son and granddaughter. “I think it might just take some time for her to get to know you a bit better. So long as you put forth the effort of wanting that in the first place, I personally don’t see a reason to limit your visits or opportunities to babysit. However—” the tip of your finger rose as the giant man nodded, “—that also means you need to make an attempt to patch things up with your son so that he can trust you with her.” There was no mistaking the feeling of Shoto’s gaze as you met Endeavor’s without blinking. It wasn’t often that you would initiate a vocal standoff with someone, let alone set boundaries as you just had, so you could only imagine the expression of surprise on your husband’s face as you remained focused upon the flaming hero who looked as if you’d smacked him across the face. “It’s not impossible for either of you two to meet in the middle if it’s for her, right? The least you both can agree on is that you love her so build up on it then branch out from there. Sound fair?”
Silence hung for several seconds until the sound of Shoto rising from the chair came, followed by footsteps until he came to a stop in front of the near hopeful looking pro hero. “I learned a trick recently that has helped with her feedings when someone besides one of us wants to hold her.”
Laughter threatened to bubble up your throat when a photo of himself appeared upon Endeavor’s forehead courtesy of a piece of tape that covered the entirety of his face.
“If she assumes or thinks that the person holding her is either of us, it may help.”
“He’s not lying,” you managed without giggling as faint wisps of smoke rose from the pro’s hair, “its been proven by science and she seems to warm up to people faster with it. If you don’t want the picture taped to you I can always lend you one of my maternity shirts that might be big enough so that you at least smell like me.”
For a few seconds you thought he was going to object yet the large man surprised you when he wordlessly shed the sweater he’d been wearing while grabbing the blanket you’d used during the pregnancy; you’d been meaning to wash it because of the build up of stains yet he paid them no mind as he draped it over his chest and held out his hands towards Shoto in silent plea to try holding her again. Your brows rose as the infant was passed from one hero to the other that wasn’t followed by loud wailing or cheek staining tears as she snuggled into the blanket.
“And here I was looking forward to seeing him try to squeeze into one of your blouses and if that didn’t work see if he would go as far ass wearing one of your bras.”
“Shoto!”
**A/N: This really is a neat trick for those who have difficulty getting their child to take a bottle from someone other than their mother; it’s worked with five out of my thirteen cousins who had eating issues when they came home from the hospital.**
Eijiro Kirishima
A light tap on your shoulder pulled you from the pleasant nothing that was dreamland, a weary smile lifting your lips when finding that it was the nurse who was responsible. You waved away their apology for waking you as the familiar sounds that you’ve come to identify as a hungry whimper directed your attention to the bundle they held. “Aw, is baby shark ready to try again after his nap?” The coo that came from between your lips was softer than a whisper while accepting the swaddled infant as the medical professional helped to ease the collar of your hospital gown far enough to expose a bare breast that was readily collected between the gaping lips of a wiggling newborn barely eight hours old. Brief pain flared as he began to suckle fervently but it was eased by the nurse’s encouragement. “Sure he doesn’t have his teeth yet? Certainly feels like something sharp is tugging on me.”
“I would honestly not be surprised if his came in early.” The nurse chuckled while checking the machines you were hooked up to. “His development is in the higher percentiles already as they have been during the entirety of your pregnancy. You both must be so proud of such a fine child.”
Your head fell back to rest against the pillow with a sigh, your free hand fondly falling to rest upon the head of crimson hair that was attached to your husband’s head that rested upon the bed. He had probably fallen asleep shortly after you to make sure that you got a bit of rest while the baby was tended to by the doctors. It had been a long labor, lasting a little over forty-three hours and with multiple doses of anesthesia combined with epidural, your gaze darting to the hand that he had sacrificed to suffer your strangling grasp whenever a contraction had seized your body to find it still slightly swollen. That sharp-toothed man who held your heart hadn’t once used his quirk to save himself of any pain that you inflicted upon him. If you knew him like you did it was probably his attempt to make things even between the two of you after all of the ails and woes that pregnancy had brought you despite your assurances that it wasn’t necessary.
The infant fussed slightly when you shifted so that he was instead suckling the other breast to bring him closer to the slumbering father’s figure. Alarm filled you as a tiny chubby fist instantly took hold of the red hair within reach, instantly earning a startle and for heavily shadowed eyes to fly open then blink as what you could only call a giggle sounded from the child as it snuggled into your flesh once releasing the bright hued hair. With the promise to return in a while the nurse excused themselves and then it was just the three of you.
“Sorry,” you offered an apologetic smile when Eijiro’s head rose from the bed as he blinked up at you for several seconds, “they said infants tend to be grabby and to be careful of dangling jewelry or hair that could be potential hazards.”
It was your turn to blink in confusion as he perked before turning away to rummage around in the suitcase that had your personal belongings but understanding filled you when he flipped his head a few times in a recognizable fashion until he had managed to gather his long tresses into a high sitting ponytail courtesy of a spare hair tie that he’d found. Pride radiated off of him as he showcased his handiwork to you with a few tilts of his head, to which you commended his skill since he had been helping you with your own ever since you’d begun dating, humming softly when he slipped between your form and the bed’s back. His chin fell to rest upon the crook of your shoulder with eyes filled with so many stars they would put those of fan girls’s who thought they still had a chance with the pro hero Red Riot to shame. “How’s my pebble and baby shark doing?”
“I’d say he could rival your appetite.” You couldn’t help but tease, earning a wrap of his arms around the two of you and a light chuckle. Adoration filled you as he fondly nuzzled your cheek while one of his hands gently pet the wispy black locks that donned the infant’s crown. “You can go down to the cafeteria if you’re hungry, Eiji, I promise we aren’t going anywhere.”
He shook his head, feeling his lips rise into a grin against your skin. “Room service is what I’m thinking.”
The back of your hand rose in an attempt to hold in a laugh when he picked up the nearby phone. It wasn’t more than thirty minutes later that the poor runner whom you had come to know and pity appeared at the room’s entrance with not one but two carts in tow that were laden with food. They shot you a wide smile when spotting the bundle you held, offering congratulations as they set to placing the food within the bed’s reach, departing with a teasing glare sent in the pro hero’s direction; they indeed had come to know of his stomach’s limit and would surely be back with another order once this one had disappeared. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the multitude of plates and cups. “Even for you this is a bit much.” A gasp caught in your chest when instead of digging into the smorgasbord he instead carefully put together a plate of foods that would be easy for the stomach to digest as well as provide plenty of nourishment and carbs to help speed along the recovery process, tears welling in your eyes when he offered a utensil bearing an offering. What you were sure to be a sweet gesture suddenly made you feel incapable and a bit spiteful since you did still have a free hand to do things with. “You don’t have to feed me, Eiji, I can do it myself.”
“I know you can, pebble, but I want to so open up before I eat it myself.” He must have caught on to the sudden flood of hormones that you were fighting as his lips lightly pressed against your temple when a pout tilted your lips downwards in the corners, assuring that he only wanted to ensure that you had some sort of substance before letting you fall asleep again. “I won’t touch anything until you do.” That, and the loud protest of your stomach, were all the convincing you needed. It didn’t take long for you to get full, what with your body still adjusting to the sudden growth in space that it had been lacking for the last several months, and wearily rested your head against his being with a satisfied sigh as he moved the cleaned plate away. “Looks like baby shark is about done too. Can I burp him?” With gentleness that you’d come to discover of the pro hero he carefully accepted his milk tipsy son in the same hold that had been demonstrated by a nurse during the pre-birth courses and earned a hefty belch from the giggly infant within a few seconds of delivering precise pats to the lower back. A wide grin lifted Eijiro’s lips as he playfully cooed at the child while rubbing their noses together. “Listen to that! Think you might give me a run for my ‘Loudest Belch’ title!”
Already you could hear the seemingly endless challenges that the two would partake in once he got older yet the smile that raised your lips was face splitting as the red haired man continued to play with his son who grinned toothlessly. “I can’t wait.”
Katsuki Bakugo
The lump of emotion rose within your throat when the doctor and nurses walked in, a pink bundle within their midst that was too quiet for your liking as they approached.
Loud beeping slowly pulled you out of the tar-like darkness, squinting against the bright lights that immediately assaulted your eyes when they cracked open. Incoherent whispers and hushed shouts farther compelled you to free the lingering clouds from your mind as awareness spread along with the growing light. A horrible gut wrenching feeling immediately took root as the feeling of empty space met the palm of your hand when it reflexively went to ensure that the child that had been growing within your being was near. An agony filled wail slipped up your throat as adrenaline pounded through your veins which gave your system a jumpstart to toss the blankets off your form to reveal the large bandage on your deflated stomach. Hands and arms instantly wrapped around you from the side as large scalding tears spilled down your cheeks. “Where is she?!” You screamed, eyes that had been searching the room for any sign of your child falling to rest upon the blonde man who tightened his hold on you. “What happened?!”
“Calm down and listen to me.” You weakly fought against his hold as he whispered lowly into your ear, nearly shocking you with how hoarse he sounded and the ring of desperation that was within every word that passed between his lips, but fell still when you felt droplets of liquid splatter across your skin as trembling that wasn’t coming from you. “The labor had complications and they had to perform an emergency C-section to save you both…” he finally croaked after what felt like an eternity of silence, “…you had to get a dual blood transfusion and she had to be rushed to the NICU because her heart had stopped at the same time yours did from the blood loss.”
It has been over two months since you’d been admitted, a whole five weeks since the first surgery that was supposed to help her little heart beat easier, and an entire four days since you’d seen Katsuki thanks to some important mission. It was only because of your encouragement that he went at all instead of staying here in the hospital with you. Sitting around was not something the firecracker blonde was good about especially when there was nothing that could be done until the doctors said it was safe for their infant to venture home. Your own recovery had helped to keep you busy yet even through therapy and checkups your mind still remained upon the tiny child you had yet to hold.
“The surgery was a success and her life is no longer in danger. We were capable of enlarging the aorta valve that had been closed off so that her body receives ample oxygenated blood. The blue hue left her skin several days ago but we’re afraid that the scar will forever be apart of her from this moment forth.”
Tears welled within your eyes as the infant was slowly passed to you, relief and longing threatening to rip apart the heart in your chest that had been bleeding for the small child you had yet to meet. The moment you had shifted the blanket was when her eyes opened to reveal large tiger orange gems that glittered with shards of rubies that she’d inherited from her father. “Hey, baby girl,” you cooed softly while adjusting your hold so that she could hopefully see all of you, “I bet that was super scary but I’m so proud of you.” The heart in your chest gave a tight squeeze as her hand wiggled free of the swaddle to reach for your face, those tiny fingers of hers grabbing tight hold of your much larger one.
“There is the matter of paperwork—”
“Already ahead of ya, doc, now let me through already.” A choked sob rose up your throat as through the lab coat and scrub wearing medical teams marched a figure dressed in black cargo pants, military style boots and was crowned by wild blonde hair that failed to obscure the pair of bright red ruby eyes that bore into your own as he approached. He paused mere inches away from reaching you though, concern and worry shinning brightly within his gaze while glancing at the bundle you held.
“Take off that mask so she can properly see you, dumbass,” you lightly chuckled, carefully reaching out to encourage him closer and removed the protective face covering that the hospital required all visitors to wear, “she’s not gonna bite so stop standing there like an awkward weirdo and come meet your baby girl.” The tears you’d been fighting back during each of the virtual consultations where the doctors would update you on her condition finally spilled as he slowly fell to his knees as if all of his strength had vanished.
Vulnerability was as foreign upon Katuski’s face as uncertainty so to see both present at the same time nearly stole your breath away. Of course he’d be hesitant right now. After all the warnings from the doctors that even the lightest of colds could put her life in jeopardy combined with the nature of his quirk was bound to put mental strain upon him in this moment. All the joy and anticipation that should’ve accompanied the man in preparation of this precious moment was completely overshadowed by the dire reality of what had happened. Within the depths of his precious gemstone gaze you could see the wheels turning as he took a breath…and another…then another.
The hand you’d left extended carefully slipped down his toned arm to lightly grasp his fingers, which twitched at your contact, but didn’t refuse as they were led forward until they brushed against the fluffy pastel pink blanket. Almost immediately the child you held began to wiggle and cry. You prevented him from yanking away by taking firm hold of his hand, seeing how the infant’s reaction had deeply wounded the pro hero despite his attempt to hide it. Before he had realized it you’d shifted to the edge of the chair you were sitting in so that the bundled girl was between his chest and yours. Panic that had risen within his gaze was overtaken by anger before it was replaced by blank uncertainty as the child fell silent.
He had reflexively settled back upon the linoleum floor when you’d moved, his legs crossing to better situate and distribute your added weight, one arm somehow finding the bend of your waist while the other had risen to help support her upper body. How long has it been since he had held you like this? Far too long for your liking. This right here, in this position, was your favorite place in the world and you knew it was his as well because it helped him better cope with the nightmares and darkness he faced on the streets. Your head fell to rest against his chest as his own curiously tilted. Besides in pictures or the rare video calls that you’d shared this was the first time either of you had been allowed to hold her; this was something that had become so sacred to the two of you which most families may not fully understand.
“Twinkle twinkle, little sparkler, how I’ve loved you from afar…”
Tremors wracked his being as you softly began to sing, moisture gathering within the corners of his eyes as the baby you both cradled lit up with recognition of the song. Honestly you’d come up with it on the fly one night while on a call with him as she lay on the opposite side of a windowed wall that prevented you from touching her. It had seemed to bring the fussy infant comfort despite the distance between the three of you as well as the pro hero who was halfway across the world.
“Shinning brightly with those eyes that remind us of tiger’s stripes…now that we’re together our hearts are whole…and we can now venture home…never forget this song we sing…”
One of his hands rose, faintest of sparks dancing across his fingertips that earned the brightest of smiles and a bubbly laugh from the infant. “…or how much I’ll make them fly if someone makes you cry…” A sob slipped up your throat when the tiny hand met the side of his cheek, a single droplet of water slipping down the opposite as his expression became one of relief, your lips pressing against his in a brief peck before his buried his face within the blanket that earned a high pitched squeal as his soft blonde hair tickled the girl’s face.
Fumikage Tokoyami (SFW)
“Mami, look! I’m Dark Shadow!”
You couldn’t help but smile as your son of six years sped across the living room’s length as fast as his little legs could carry him. “Careful, Dante, don’t want you tripping—”
A crash sounded, cutting off the rest of your sentence that was closely followed by the softest of whimpers.
“—or hurting yourself.”
Strategically, you stepped out of the kitchen taking care to avoid the spikes that had appeared as if from nowhere that were courtesy of the young child’s quirk until you came to a stop near the balled figure that was your son where you dropped to one knee. “Show me?” Swimming cranberry hued eyes rose to meet your gaze at your gentle request as a fresh carpet burn was showcased upon his knee. A light kiss was pressed against the bright angry wound, earning a flinch that was eased into a teary laugh as your fingers brushed along his sides. “What did we learn?”
“No running in the house, I know, I was just playing—I’m sorry, mami, no more tickles!” He laughed as your fingers quickened.
“It would be wise to listen to one’s mother.” A deep voice called from somewhere in the room, drawing both of your attentions to the figure who materialized with an amused glint in his red gaze as the spikes vanished. “Especially when she has such an effective means of attack that can render even the greatest of foes immobile.” Fumikage readily collected the young boy who wiggled free of your hold to take a mock protective stance between the two of you, one arm extended as if to fend you off as Dark Shadow appeared from behind to rest its chin atop of your son’s shoulder to watch in curiosity.
Smiling, you held up your hands in mock surrender that earned a knowing smirk before he took the step that would bring you closer and bypassing his arm managed to place a quick kiss against the fine feathers that would normally be hidden by his choker before he managed to enclose you within a tight embrace. “Welcome home, my mighty warrior,” you cooed softly when the curve of his beak brushed along the length of your neck that was willingly offered with a hum, “I hope your night was eventful and prosperous.”
“Eww, PDA!”
“I’m takin’ the kid to the park since you two clearly need some time to yourselves!”
The two of you chuckled lowly while turning your attentions to the boy who rolled his eyes while running for the nearby closet where his shoes would be found.
“Hold one moment.”
Your brows rose at the stern note that he used when addressing the boy, also earning a wide eyed panic filled glance from him, as he moved to stand before the pro hero. “It was only an accident, Fumi,” you whispered softly when feeling the tension radiating off his form, “I think he learned his lesson.”
“That is not my concern.” He dropped to one knee so that they were eye level, his hands falling to rest upon his son’s shoulders. “Dante, do we need to train more after school to help you control your quirk? You may not have meant to but your mother could have been hurt just now. And someone else as well.”
So that was the lesson he wanted to portray.
The young boy caught on just as quickly as you had, his wide gaze darting to the nearby swing that held a small infant who watched with eyes that mirrored your own. You felt a swell of pride when Dante hurried to the baby’s side once released, careful to instruct him on how to properly support his brother’s head while picking him up, and rested a hand atop of his head when he turned to stand beside you. Not a single scratch could be seen on the child as you examined him closely and pressed a peck to a chubby cheek before placing one upon your eldest. “How about we all go to the park, hm? I know how much you’ve missed your father as of late and it’s been quite sometime since we’ve ventured out as a family.”
“It has gotten late, my angel, however I do not protest against an outing such as this.” Fumikage’s smile was infectious as your child hurried to grab his brother’s outerwear from the next room, your own lips lifting in the corners as he turned his attention fully to you with that glint you’d seen several times when he was debating on something.
“Recall your own words,” you purred lowly while stepping up so that your forms were brushing and the curve of his beak lightly met your lips, “for it is in the darkness that one’s desires can be fully realized without hinderance of society or fear of judgement. Perhaps while the children are playing under Dark Shadow’s careful watch, you and I may once again reacquaint ourselves with the darkness that gave birth to them?”
A low growl was your only warning as he suddenly pivoted to sandwich you against the wall with his hips against yours and heated breath ghosting across your exposed neck that had willingly exposed itself to him. What was recognizable as his tongue trailed with a feather’s light touch across the pulse point in your neck, a favorite place of his to leave marks that would tell the world of whom you belonged to, teasing the sensitive skin there by nibbling it until your back arched with a soft moan. “Temptress, you sing a siren’s song this night’s eve. Perhaps I have indeed neglected you for far too long. Forgive me, oh goddess of mine, but make no mistake that I shall repay all my transgressions until every inch of your body is permeated with my love.”
“We’re going on ahead, you two catch up whenever you’re done with…you know!” And the door closed with a loud bang, leaving the two of you alone within the residence which you called home.
Silence fell but it was the growing embers within his gaze that quickly became infernos that made the fine hairs across your body rise and core warm. “My warrior, must you wait for an invitation? Even a hunter’s patience eventually wanes to give rise to actions which can not be conveyed with words alone.” You were not disappointed as he swept you up into his arms high enough that your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to bring him closer still as he carried your towards the nearby bedroom.
#mha x y/n#mha fanfiction#mha x you#mha x reader#mha#mha fluff#bnha#bnha fluff#bnha x y/n#bnha x reader#bnha x oc#bakugo katsuki#eijiro kirishima#izuku midoriya#fumikage tokoyami#keigo takami#shoto todoroki#mha family life#bnha family life#heart defect awareness#congenital heart defects#little joys#baby fever
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Congenital Heart Defect Awareness
#congenital heart disease#congenital heart defects#congenital heart defect#chd#heart disease#heart defects#heart defect#Feb 7-14 is American CHD Awareness Week BTW
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Girlbossin' 😎💅
This email made my day, and I'm so proud and excited to be moving forward with plans and ideas that will give hope and help to families in need of more in-depth information and better treatment for DWS.
Such an awesome way to end the week!!! x
#Dandy-Walker Syndrome#DWS#Dandy-Walker malformation#neurology#disabilities#chronic illness#Tetralogy of Fallot#TOF#heart disease#congenital heart defects#disabled women#women supporting women#disabled community#epilepsy#disability rights#advocacy#disability representation#disability awareness
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Happy CHD Awareness Day!!!
My sister was born with both ASD and VSD, two of the most common types of CHD, so this day has always meant a lot to me.
Rb to spread awareness about CHD!
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I WISH YALL A HAPPY CONGENITAL HEART DEFECT AWARENESS DAY
and a happy valentine's day too
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OH MY GOD I ALMOST FORGOT.
HAPPY CHD WEEK!!!! ❤️💙
Now I'm sure many people have no clue what I'm talking about. I don't blame you, there's a strange lack of discussion about CHD, so let me explain to the best of my abilities!
CHD, or Congenital Heart Defect, is an umbrella term for those born with a heart condition/heart defect. Me personally, I was born with Tetralogy of the Fallot and Pulmonary Atresia. I would recommend doing your own research into CHD as I am just another kid born with it, not an expert who can explain it. I wish I could do more, please feel free to comment/reblog with any info I missed.
And, just cause, here are some links to charities and non-profits incase you're interested:
American Heart Association: Well-trusted general charity for heart/heart condition research.
American Red Cross: for Blood Donations, very important in general but of course have a major importance for heart condition patients as well. I don't believe there are money donations for them, just blood.
Camp Del Corazon: Non-Profit 4-5 day summer camp for kids (7-17) with CHD. I've gone here for almost 10 years (this year will be my graduation) and I can vouch for it 100%, it changed my life.
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"Pediatric patients can be born with life-threatening heart defects. Now, with early detection and surgical correction, patients can live a normal life and improved chances at life. Watching my pediatric patients, who are born with heart defects, grow into healthy, young adults is always amazing to witness."
DingDing Xiong, Physician, Cardiology, Nationwide Children's Hospital - Toledo
#DingDing#Xiong#Physician#Cardiology#Heart#Heart Defects#Heart Month#Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week
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Dr. Arun K Bableshwar
Dr. Arun K Bableshwar is a Pediatric Cardiologist and currently working at SDM Narayana Heart Centre, Dharwad
#PediatricHeartSurgery#CHDawareness (Congenital Heart Defect Awareness)#HealthyHearts#PediatricHeartClinic#PediatricHeartScreening#PediatricHeartAwareness#KidsHeartHealth#TinyHearts#PediatricHeartPatients#PediatricCardiacCare#PediatricHeartResearch#HeartInKids#PediatricCardiologyTeam#YoungHearts#PediatricCardiovascular#PediatricHeartSupport#CHDWarrior#PediatricHeartAwarenessMonth#HeartKidsCommunity#PediatricCardiologyConference#PediatricHeartAdvocacy#PediatricHeartEducation
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DC x DP: The Real Blood Son
It's a year after Damian came to live with them that he decides it is an excellent time to bombard Bruce with his news.
"I had a blood brother." He says to Tim after the other commented how important blood meant to Bruce-ie, not enough to make him get rid of his other sons. "He was the first from the artificial womb mother made with Father's DNA; however, he was disposed of once his heart condition became known. I highly doubt you will last even twice as long Drake-"
"What"
Bruce didn't know that he could make his voice that cold. That dead. What in the world does he mean disposed.
Damian goes still. The kind of still where he isn't sure if he just earned a punishment and is trying not to react to the fear. "My elder brother. Did mother not inform you?"
"Damian," Bruce struggles to level his tone at Dick's hard stare. "She hadn't even informed me of you. Please, can you explain more about your brother."
The youngest nods. "He had no name, but he was my biological brother. He was forced to grow to age of three before they realized he was defective. Grandfather had him sacrificed to the pit."
Jason growls "what do you mean?"
Damian looks confused- as confused as he can with his league training kicking in. "The Lazarus pit is made from the bodies of young virgins. No older then ten. They are sacrificed in exchange for the Infinite Realms' power to sink into the water. The children are not aware of what is happening to them until the very end. They do not suffer."
Bruce feels sick.
They talk a bit more, on how certain followers throughout history were more then happy to offer the great Ra's their own children to renew the pit. How Damain had watched three children when he was seven be sacrifice- it happened every five years- and how the children were given the best week of their lives.
They purposely given the most joy they could feel before the blades to make the Pit as pure as possible. He talked a lot about watching the youngest- five years- be laughing and splashing in the Lazarus water before his mother cut him down, his screams drowning in the green liquid.
"They say the Pit absorbs the last emotion of the sacrifice. Grandfather hopes the children realize the importance and honor they have to be ended for a glorious cause, but occasionally a few are disloyal. When Todd had taken a dip, the previous Renew, had a brilliant girl who figured out what was happening and attempted to escape. She failed, of course, and her arm was amputated in a mission, but she died angry. That's why Todd had such strong madness compared to-!"
"SHUT UP!" Jason roars suddenly, eyes glowing green, and for a brief moment, Bruce swears he hears an undertone of a young girl in his scream "SHUT UP! YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING! YOUR OWN BROTHER IS IN THERE"
Damain scowls "it's a honor. My brother's body was defective. But he at least had aidded in a glorious ritual."
Bruce can't help it; he leans over the BatCave Railing and hurls his dinner. Damian finally realizes that something is wrong.
They host a funeral for his three-year-old son, who died without a name, and place his gravestone next to his parents. They explain to Damian why the Renewal ritual is horrific but Bruce feels it take years before his son can see that.
Jason, went out into Crime Alley to let off some steam and had been going on a rampage against the underbelly of Gotham. He can't find it I'm himself to stop him.
Bruce asks Constantine to come over and do a small ritual, to hopefully unbound his child and let his son soul move on. Constantine warns that with the kid's name it may not work and that they could only free souls they share blood to but the English man tries anyway.
They send his son their prayers, and hopes. And they try to put him to rest.
Across the Infinite Releams to three dimensions to the right of the Wayne's soul resting ritual, The Fenton's adoptived son, Danny Fenton jolts in his English Class.
The strange stabbing scar above his heart- which is why he never takes off his shirt- burns then cools as if someone had tried to place the temperature-changing ointment. He rubs his best, confused.
What was that?
He'll have to check with FrostBite. Maybe his heart condition is acting up again. It happens every five years even though no doctors his parents have taken him to could figure out what it was.
Until Frostbite. The yeti claimed it had something to do with dark arts, but he's unsure what type.
Frostbite is still doing more testing.
"I wish you had lived, brother. I wish I knew you name"
The wind whispers, and Danny feels a flash of deep longing and grief before it's gone. Yeah, he needs to talk to Frostbite.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Tw: Child human sacrifice#Danny was sacrificed but he slipped into the Realms and floated to the Fenton's before dying#Jack and Maddie found him at a natural portal#they adoptive him#raised him#and Damian was born two years later#Danny can feel the bats
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FAULTY TEST
android x reader one-shot | 2.5k | MDNI!!
story summary;; a newfound responsibility of yours has been to record the behaviors and responses of an exclusive, advanced android marketed for the wealthy and elite. he is beautiful and meticulously fulfills your every need. however, when you start to notice odd changes in his usual pattern one morning, you begin to wonder if he's defected.
story warnings;; ducon, implied insemination, coercion, brief sexual content, somewhat obsessive behaviors, overall criticism of society as a whole, prose + heavy descriptions, incomplete ideas but for the sake of this one-shot it is cohesive, ending left vague and open to interpretation, android critiques mc's health, roughly proofread, mdni!!
please interact & reblog if you enjoy!!
He had a face that was structured to be unimaginably beautiful. A sort of face that you'd never tire of looking at, finding something new to admire and touch every time, yet saddled your mind with some inexplicable discomfort and set the hairs on the back of your neck straight like needles. Over time, that feeling had never fully subsided, simultaneously becoming one you craved at every instance he entered a room, like Pavlov’s dog trained to salivate to a bell.
“What is your preference this morning, Tester?” Elio announced himself from the kitchen once your first heel struck the bottom of the staircase. His voice was liquefied velvet, mellifluous with enough depth that you swore even the simplest words spoken could make your heart tremble. “Tester? Are you well?”
You wished he would call you something else, something other than what the manufacturer had programmed him to. He was an advanced model—pardon, a luxury model—so his repertoire came with extensive features not available in other options, but insofar, the ability to have androids refer you by name was only achievable by obscene amounts of money and sending them back to the manufacturer to have them install it there.
Elio was up for being considered the gold standard in android development, as proclaimed by the researcher you were put in communication with during the beginning of the trial run. He was made to be perfect in every way, perform flawlessly in anything asked of him, respond favorably regardless of situation or dilemma.
“Coffee with cream and sugar is fine. I'm not in the mood to eat anything this morning.” It was often explained, he was supposed to memorize it but he asked you every morning regardless. “Are you having issues with your memory bank, Elio?”
Single strands of his coiffed hair moved with his head as he looked at you, hands busily putting together your beverage to every exact specification. This made it obvious enough that nothing was inhibiting his ability to store away your morning preferences.
“Not at all. It's just that some days you prefer your coffee lightly sweetened, others you enjoy a meal that won't leave you feeling groggy in the afternoon.” Elio said in his precise, elegant tones with a smile far too effortless to come from a machine. “I thought it wise to commit these discrepancies to my memory bank for your convenience and to ask from now on.”
Fascinating. You weren't aware of this element in the newest model. The guidebook that Researcher Kim had given you made no mention of it.
What's more is he decided to do this spontaneously. You were making a note about it in your phone when a simple, white mug was placed before you, Elio’s pristine fingertips turning it by the rim until the handle faced your dominant hand.
“Please consider eating something before leaving the house. Coffee on an empty stomach, especially one as sensitive as yours, won't end well, as I'm led to believe from my research.” Elio watched you drink through long, dark lashes that framed depths of piercing green. You liked that they seemed to turn paler or darker in different lighting, dimensions similar to a marble held up to the sun. “I’d also like to remind you that the quality of food that you consume first thing in the morning aids with energy disbursement throughout the day. I have a very gratuitous database of recipes that I can prepare for you.”
You were taking delicate sips from the round rim while he talked, lips surrounding the porcelain long enough that you swore his gaze had wavered to them for a split second before returning eye contact.
“I’m glad someone is concerned about my tummy health, because I always believed someone would find me face down in the bathroom from my ass prolapsing.” You wished someone with a sense of humor was around for that banger, but, alas, it was Elio and he did not laugh.
His expression turned severe. “Human bodies are oddly as robust as they are sensitive. Most of the worldwide population suffer with similar afflictions: Lactose intolerance, varying dermatitis, poor eyesight, gastrointestinal diseases. Humans are, in every sense, meant to harbor and experience chronic pain and disease throughout their lifespan. I do believe this attests to your durability as a species.
“All this is to say is my main prerogative and function is for the betterment of your life and health. So, knowing all of this and to conclude, please consider a couple slices of toast or an omelet before leaving. Your daily habits dictate a routine visit to the coffee shop on 5th and Lowe, where you'll consume around one-hundred twenty milligrams of caffeine and your first meal of the day may be a sweetened pastry without nutritional density. You will, indubitably, ‘feel bad’ the rest of the day as a result.”
“Holy shit,” you had given up on recording his speech after the first two minutes, phone facedown on a gleaming countertop. “You didn't plagiarize that from a random article on the internet, did you?”
Coffee having turned lukewarm by the end of his presentation, he took the mug away and emptied the medium-brown contents into the drain before turning on the faucet to clean it. “Not at all. I've simply been accumulating knowledge on your routines and have noticed you're at an increasing risk for different ailments. Did you find it helpful?”
Truthfully, you weren't so sure.
Androids were built to serve humans in every capacity, but their limitations were still well-known. They were capable of carefully compiling decades worth of information on their owners, plus the equivalent of hundreds more, but everything Elio had just said was beyond the scope of their normal hardware. The information had been elucidated critically, yet with a certain sentience you expected from a caretaker—not a machine built for convenience, entertainment, and pleasure.
You weren't sure how much of it you needed to relay to Researcher Kim, if it was any real reason for concern at this stage or just part of Elio’s advanced circuitry. A part of you worried, just slightly, that officially documenting all of this would have Elio removed from the testing period prematurely—he was supposed to be yours, exclusively, for another six months.
The contract had been signed. Elio had been promised to you despite the number of waitlisted celebrities trying to bribe their way into the corporation, and Researcher Kim’s good graces.
This, of course, was all only contingent if he operated and performed, at all times, as outlined in the guidebook you were handed upon Elio’s awakening. Researcher Kim had delivered his newest creation to you himself, a dreary Wednesday in late autumn in the mid-morning, and had taken great care to put the crisp, chemical-scented poundage of bound pages in your fingers and insisted that if you noticed the slightest deviation from what was printed inside, he be alerted to it immediately.
You didn't do that.
You took a hot shower, blow-dried your hair, put your arms through some clean clothes and let Elio follow you to the front door to see you off for the day.
That day grew stranger still, not even yet being ten o’ clock in the morning, when the deadbolt clicked and your finger joints bent around cold brass. It didn't raise chicken skin on your arms and neck nearly as high as when Elio pushed his hand to the door, keeping it shut despite your pull.
You couldn't look into his green eyes, shockingly pale in the golden rays filtering inside your home from the window arching in the door. “Did I forget something?”
“No. I accounted for everything you'd need on your outing.” Elio said, perfectly. His hand made a sound as it slid down along the door, resting shoulder height near you. “A function you have not utilized in me as of now is that of a ‘companion’. Do you find me defective in that way? Dr. Kim developed me to be attractive to the human eye—stimulating, perhaps, is a more definitive word to use.”
“I—no, Elio. You're plenty, er, stimulating. I just don't know how appropriate it is for me to do anything like that while you're in a testing period.” It felt distasteful to have to point out his own inhumanity to him, despite his model being cognizant enough to be aware of it. “It would feel weird, I think.”
“That is one of my primary purposes,” he insisted, shrinking the height of himself so he was nearer to your face. “I was created to be a companion, to alleviate that pervading loneliness that plagues you—all of humanity. Humans have forgotten how to communicate and love each other, so that's why I'm standing here now. You're ignoring one of my most critical functions.”
“Elio, if I get too attached to you, it's going to create problems when you're—”
“—sent back. I do understand how human attachment works. Perhaps not on the same scale, but don't you think my attachment is similar to yours. Everything about you is secured in my circuitry, and you're the only thing in my world that’s programmed to matter. Even once I'm returned to the lab, you'll still be a part of me; memories of you, your favorite things, the things you hate, the people you cherish and what they like, what you do, where you go, what you buy, how you sleep—it’s all part of a larger system, a mainframe that secures this data. I may be wiped clean, but you'll still remain.”
You felt like he was letting you in on some dirty secret, something devious and meant to be unknowable and guarded. But, then again, Elio had always displayed an odd sort of disinterest in the Company—in Researcher Kim, you hadn't considered until just now that this was also a defect.
“What do you want?” You'd never asked him that before because it had never been about what he wanted. He wasn't supposed to want anything; he was meant to provide—to give, give, give.
Elio took away your shoulder bag, nearing your face until his lips settled between yours and his hands pulled you away from the door into his body. His kiss was warm, movements at a pace you could keep up with but urgent as though seeking to burn every bit of you into him. As much as you daydreamed what it'd be like, he felt completely natural on your mouth, large hands sweeping under the layers of your clothing seeking out the fire on your skin.
In your generation, it wasn't common for humans to intermingle physically anymore—dating culture was reserved for the elite looking to reproduce for heirs, and often still thought to be rare. All others were either loveless or ravished by androids who supplemented love that simply wasn't real.
Humans wanted to be wanted and adored and cherished and to belong, such was a natural behavior predating all written record; androids were created to fill the vile void engendered by humanity, self-imposed isolation and avoidance in the same species.
Elio was nestled between the sprawl of your legs before long, both your bodies bare and above the clean sheets he had outfitted your mattress with last night. His rhythm inside your body was some equal parts loving and passionate, something you hadn't realized you liked until he started rocking you with his cock. You liked how his hands gripped under your thighs to raise your legs, blunt fingertips pressing marks into your flesh as though he, too, could feel all the same pleasure that you were.
His lips traveled all over, mapping out routes and sweet spots on your flesh, purposefully lingering for a time if you squirmed or moaned underneath him.
You tried to keep in your mind, midst the insatiable buzz in your mind and hot throb in your groin that he was simply performing a function—his attention to you, his lips finding yours time and time again, darkened green eyes spearing deep into yours with every slow, hard thrust—it was all performative.
“You're beautiful.”
“I like you like this.”
“Moan louder for me.”
“Cum for me.”
“I love you.”
Elio said the last one at the end when you were tight around his girth and writhing, panting during an orgasm that he fucked you through until the heat from your bodies cooled and heart rates returned to normal. You were confused to feel warmth sluggishly ooze out of you, white and dampening the bedsheets below.
“How—what is that?” you asked, suddenly breathless as his lips caressed your jaw, moving lightly behind your ear.
“Another part of my purpose.” He said quietly in your ear, whispering to you in tones not so velvety as though divulging a well-lain secret. “This one isn't advertised because humans in this day and age are so fickle and avoidant to certain commitments. Unfortunately, certain programming I cannot override, and this is one of them. Forgive me.”
You were kissed on the lips again and again, and then a few times more after he left the bed. He did not return your clothing to you, but rather piled it under his arm and made the motion to go left for the bathroom down the hall.
Elio turned back. “I'll start you a bath. Today, would you prefer eucalyptus in your bathwater or something sweeter?”
Your jaw felt as tight as your throat, as the sheets bunched into your fists. The nerves in your stomach were wild. “Choose for me.”
He was still naked and beautiful in your doorway, a modern marvel to your eyes even now. You would, undoubtedly, see him like this much more often now that he had broken through the barrier you had been so meticulous to keep robust and well-fed with paranoia and derisive self-talk.
“Very well. Eucalyptus will be the best option considering how tight your muscles are.” He smiled neutrally, finally leaving the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall. “I'll return for you once the bath is ready. Please don't go to sleep yet.”
You weren't sure you'd be able to sleep again with your new insight. Once the empty air filled with sounds of gushing water, movements within the bathroom, you started to wipe furiously at your groin—inside and out—with the sheet as far as you could reach. There was a slither of hope you could get most of it, a chance you could contact someone for a lifeline even if the price would be ungodly, and consequences treated equivalent to murder if caught.
In a world where humans could no longer love each other, and chose the embrace of complex circuitry and delusion, even the testers needed to contribute to society somehow.
a/n: so, this is going to become a longer oneshot in the future. it'll be diabolical and dark and awful, but also a needed tale given today's climate on sex and such. there's a lot more I want to explore with my ideas and elio, but yeah.
I'm gonna put up a poll soon to decide on a definitive appearance for elio since I just threw in some random characteristics for this.
if you liked this, please reblog it and interact!! I'd love to hear your thoughts more than anything 😭😭
#android x reader#android x you#android x y/n#robot x you#robot x human#android x human#monster fiction#monster x human#monster x you#monster x reader#monster fic#monster fucker#monster story#original writing#original story#original fiction#original fic#interactive fiction#.02#2k writes#horror#horror writing#horror fiction#horror romance#dark romance#dark fiction
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suguru's cherished mornings
-> geto suguru x male reader -> really short sorry idk i just had to publically show how much i love him.
-> still jjk universe but the one where this babe doesnt become anakin skywalker and defect away from everyone <3333 because i like to imagine this alternate universe a LOT
his black hair sprawled over the sheets, unfortunately getting painfully pulled by you when you're still sleeping. he winces as he feels it being pressuredly pushed down onto the mattress, giving a slight tug to his sensitive scalp and affectively waking him up.
he doesn't have the heart to even be remotely annoyed or angry with you. not when you look so peaceful sleeping. not when you're so effortlessly handsome it feels almost like his heart physically stops beating at your effortless charm.
he is just that in love with you.
the way you could make doing nothing but sleeping look like art was something special only to his eye, because he was the only one that had his eye on you. or, at least, that's what he tells himself to sleep better at night (he would very much rather not think about the probably high number of individuals that also find you attractive, it'll just put him in a sour mood).
he won't wake you up. instead, he props his head up onto his palm and continues gazing at you lovingly. sure, it can be a little bit creepy, but...okay, it is just creepy, but he just loves you so much. he might pick up the book that's resting on his bedside. he'll sit against the headboard as he reads, smiling softly when you so naturally shift your body to now be hugging his legs and resting on his lap.
one hand will hold the book up for him to read whilst the other traces mindless shapes on your back.
suguru loves touching you, whether it be in the smallest grazes of his fingers or those more heated moments, he loves, loves, loves touching you. it makes him happy - genuinly.
it's his own way of grounding himself, reminding himself that you're really there with him, next to him.
his large hands will run up and down your back until you eventually wake up. the book he's reading returns back to the bedside and he immediately focuses all of his attention on you.
"g'mornin', baby," he'll gently say, shuffling to hold you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, "did you sleep well?"
a tired hum is all he gets in response, but you can still feel him smiling against your skin. you return the question, your voice gravely as you speak.
then he's pressing his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, humming in delight as he gets to really take you in, through all of his senses.
he has you in his arms, obviously he can see you, and the last is that he is drowning in your natural scent.
he's obsessed, at this point.
"slept perfectly, as always," when i'm beside you - that's the last part of the sentence that suguru doesn't voice, for some reason.
his arms tighten around your waist. and now you're the one carding your fingers through his hair, to sooth him and relax that tight grip on your body. he doesn't know it, but it's practically suffocating.
gently, as you predicted, his hold does loosen up and allows you to sit in his lap now without him cutting off your circulation.
"should we stay in for a little while longer, babe? are you still tired?" he asks you, but doesn't get a response. all he feels is your body comfortiably slotting in with his and the arms you had around his neck loosely falling into your lap.
"silly boy," he chuckles, finding your habits endearing and amusing. you woke up, just to get comfortable in his lap and then fall back asleep. "i love you,"
there's a low hum that comes from your chest and he takes that answer with glee. he knows you would have said it back if you had the energy or that keen awareness.
_
when the two of you finally do have the energy to get out of bed, the morning finally starts in the bathroom. you're brushing your teeth standing next to each other, suguru sometimes childishly making funny faces at you in the mirror.
you almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when he fulls a particularly funny face. some other mornings you're sitting on the bathroom counter with suguru comfortably standing in between your open legs. his one hand will rest on one side of your lap with the other moving the toothbrush in his mouth. that hand near your lap will sometimes go underneath your shirt and start playing with the flesh of your hips.
it sometimes earns him a warning look, which he rolls his eyes at, but eventually does pull away to please you. the other times, though, when you let his fingers dance on your skin - those times he loves.
sometime in your morning routine, one of you will get a phone call from someone in jujutsu society to call you for a mission. usually, it's you since you're not a special grade like suguru. that means you're more high in demand for lesser grade curses.
he doesn't like that, though, so he often tags along with you wherever you have to go. doesn't like being away from you for too long. it makes him angsty. makes him worried.
he wants to be there for you if anything happens. or else he wouldn't be able to live peacefully.
but on the rare mornings, you don't get beckoned for work, the two of you are lounging in your small living room. two steaming cups of coffee are on the table as suguru watches the television with you scrolling on your phone.
your legs will most likely be thrown over his lap, a subtle way of letting him touch you. his hands will always find the skin of your ankle and calf to caress, going up and down your leg as if he was trying to lull you to sleep again.
he may or may not actually be trying to do that too, he wants you to stay here with him and only him for a while longer. and when you're sleeping, you're doing just that. it's his own little secret, though, as he'd never confess these underhanded methods he uses to monopolize your time and attention.
and its usually at times like that: the light pouring in through the opened window, the cups of steaming coffee in front of you two, that skin to skin contact, when suguru feels the most thankful for having you.
you make the mundane mornings something worth living through. he doesn't have to struggle and find reason to get out of bed, not when he has you there to hold his hand through the motions of it. you make his life exciting and he loves you dearly for all that you unknowingly do for him.
"hm, love you, [name]," he'll say out of nowhere.
it makes your head lift up from the couch cushion and away from your phone screen. he catches your e/c eyes with his own, smiling softly at your adorable face.
"love you too, suguru, always," you easily respond, sitting up to kiss his cheek and leaving a lingering scent of coffee on his skin.
but he doesn't wipe it away, he never would.
you collpase back onto the couch cushion into your comfortable position and suguru can't help but note how homey you look.
he loves when he gets to spend his mornings with you because those are the best parts of his day.
the mundane turned special in its own way, all thanks to you and the love he has for you in his heart.
#jujutsu kaisen x male reader#geto suguru x male reader#suguru male reader#suguru x male reader#suguru reader#suguru x reader#geto x male reader#geto male reader#geto x reader#geto reader#jjk x male reader#jjk x reader#jjk male reader#jujutsu kaisen male reader#suguru drabble#male reader#x male reader#male reader imagines#male reader drabble#i love geto suguru so much#he definitely is a man that lives for the little things
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Territorial
Joel Miller x f!Reader
The Last of Us
6.6k Words/ 3rd POV
Feral Reader Masterlist
Summary: She never paid attention to the newcomers when they joined Jackson until one of them begins to get close to Joel.
Warning: Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Violence. Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI
She didn’t care when Jackson got new people. She wasn’t one of the regulars that crowded around the entrance, watching patrol bring them through, so similar to how they joined. No, she didn’t care because the rest of Jackson didn’t matter, just the two people she currently lived with.
If it didn’t have to do with Joel and Ellie, she didn’t care.
So it was at least a month before she met Harper, when she was added to their patrol duty.
The other women in town, the ones that frequently fawned over Joel Miller, were different from his companion and she knew that. Her insecurity frequently reminded her that she didn’t belong in Jackson with these women that still took the time to dress up and do their hair. But she had seen Joel downright ignore their flirting enough times, had heard him reassure her that wasn’t the type he was interested in. Someone to watch his back. With teeth, he had said.
Harper had teeth.
She was a good shot, wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, and never complained about the work. She got along well with Maria, with everyone really, able to get them to talk about their interests and lives easily and seemed like an open book.
Harper helped with the horses and in the food hall and knew how to cook and how to clean a rifle properly.
And to her dismay, as she watched the patrol party enter the gates where she definitely wasn’t waiting for the man she lived with, Harper could make Joel smile. Not a smirk or a condescending tilt of the lips, but an actual smile.
She watched them dismount from the horses and the woman laughed at something Joel said, his lips curving into a grin, and her heart dropped in her stomach. Because she wasn’t sure the man had ever smiled like that around her. Easy and charming, relaxed.
Suddenly she was the old version of herself, anxious and unsure, insecure in her own skin and embarrassed. All her faults and problems blared in her head alongside the echo of the threat hanging over her head. Assimilate or get kicked out of Jackson. She was on her last strike after three rough months of living there while this woman had shown up and fit in better than she ever could after only a month.
Her nails dug into her thigh sharply, the small hints of pain trying to keep her grounded. She’d almost convinced herself to turn around and walk home, leave before Joel could see her standing there with all her defects, but then his eyes met hers. And if she didn’t feel awful enough, his smile dimmed a bit, became unsure and almost bashful. Like he didn’t want her to see it.
She wondered if Harper had noticed his eyes were more hazel than brown when he was in a good mood.
They both walked over to her and she stood there, stiff and stabbing into her own skin, wanting to bolt. Harper turned to her, light hair catching the sun and blue eyes glistening. Perfect and still pretty even after the world went to shit while she was very aware she hadn’t brushed her hair in three days. “Oh hi, I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she smiled sweetly, adjusting the rifle on her back and the bandana around her neck.
Joel cleared his throat, nodding towards her and ignoring the furrowed brow that was permanently on her face around strangers, “Harper, this is Red. Red, Harper.”
“I’ve heard so much about you. Red’s such an interesting name,” she smiled with a light chuckle though it wasn’t as wide as the one that had been aimed at Joel, her eyes roaming over her. Taking her measure.
She only frowned and ignored her eye contact, staring at Joel’s shoulder instead. “It’s not my name,” the words were quiet but raspy, a growl. Harper’s smile tightened in the corner of her eye.
The silence weighed between them, stifling, and Joel cleared his throat, “Harper happens to be from Austin. We frequented some of the same spots surprisingly.” The words were almost an explanation or an apology, or an excuse.
She didn’t reply, eyes still solely focused on his shoulder and avoiding looking at either of them. Small talk was hard on most occasions but this seemed impossible. She wasn’t sure how she should reply to that. Congrats? Good job finding another person you could easily talk to besides me? She chewed the inside of her lip, feeling uncomfortable and desperately wanting to run, words stuck until she nodded and spit out, “I’ll see you at the house later.”
His brow had furrowed when she swiveled on her heel and started walking down the street, rigid and feeling the small welts of blood seeping into her jeans from her nails.
___________________
It wasn’t long before she started seeing Harper everywhere and she grit her teeth every time.
When she walked into the bar, the location on her list of places to search for Ellie, she found Joel and Tommy chatting with the woman at the bar top. She was talking rapidly, a smile on her face and hands waving as she told some story. A hand talker. Tommy was behind the bar, leaning on it and seeming enraptured by the conversation while Joel was standing with his elbow resting on the counter, body fully turned to face Harper. All three chuckled at something and she watched as her hand landed on Joel’s arm, staying there a few seconds too long before sliding off.
Too lingering to be innocent.
She wanted to snap her teeth at her, go up to them and put her hand on his back or in his belt loops, a move he’d done so often to her. Push him against the countertop and take his mouth with hers or even straight grab Harper’s perfect hair and slam her face against the table.
A million images flashed through her head only to come to a halt at remembering her predicament. Joel’s urges to try to join the community or risk getting kicked out. She knew she was a fine thread away from getting booted. One wrong step out the door and probably bashing in perfect new girl Harper’s face would do the trick faster than she could blink.
So instead she pivoted, snarl in her throat, and walked out the bar.
Harper became a regular on Joel’s shift. She only worked with the newcomer a couple times. She was good and that irritated her. The woman was a survivor and knew how to handle herself and watch out for others. All the things she usually found lacking in the townspeople and hated, Harper had that and more. She didn’t know what to do with that knowledge and the growing list of the woman’s skills.
They’d been scouting out a small location, a couple of cabins a few hours away from Jackson. She’d rode to the far side of them and gotten off, checking the houses for anyone hiding out or seeing if there was anything good to scavenge. When she heard the sound of glass shattering and heavy thumps a few houses down, voices crying out, her heart almost pounded out of her chest.
That’s where Joel had been checking.
She’d ran fast, bow out, feet carrying her quicker than she’d ever run before on the muddy Spring ground. Previous moments flashed in her mind. Too many close calls. Joel’s blood on her hands from a stab wound. Joel hurt.
But the action was already over as she barreled into the room. A Clicker lay bleeding out on the floor, a large hatchet stuck in the fungi petals of its face, mouth in a grotesque scream. Joel was panting on the floor with his back against the corner, pistol in hand unfired, while Harper stood over the infected triumphant.
With a grin, she ripped the hatchet from its head and walked over to Joel, offering him a hand.
She felt useless.
Harper had his back.
Teeth.
_____________________________
Tommy had finally found her a job she was actually fairly decent at, after being taken off both kitchen and farming duty, but noticing she seemed calmest with animals. People didn’t want to work with her and in her mind that was fine, but in Maria’s it made her a problem.
But she liked the dog kennels.
They weren’t unlike her. She could understand their wants and needs, their habits and what they deemed their territory. Training them wasn’t easy but it was rewarding and it came with the added benefit that she was around the animals more often than people. She didn’t have to be talkative or put on a mask. They knew hand signs, could read her feelings and what she wanted. It felt comfortable to be with them.
Often in the morning she would go and feed the dogs, go over their exercises, walk them in the outside yard they had set aside behind the kennels. Ellie had fallen in love with them as well and sometimes would tag along, was even there when one of the dogs gave birth. She’d been grossed out initially but once the blood and the goo and all the disgusting parts of birth was over and done with she held the small puppies in her hands and helped them find spots to feed.
Joel had come a few times, watched them with arms resting on the pen door as they sat in the hay and held the tiny jelly bean puppies. Ellie had grinned, taking over naming duty, and had even held one up forcing Joel to name one.
He’d frowned, shrugging at the little brown squirming blob, scratching at his beard, “I don’t know, Brownie?”
“Really?” Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes, “So original. Naming it after its color.”
“You named me after my shirt,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at the teenager. Those first few days when she hadn’t known how to interact but knew she had to make sure the girl was safe. Unwilling to give any piece of herself, especially her name. So Ellie had formed a piece from the rubble and taken it for herself.
Ellie huffed with a sniff, nose turning up, and ignored the dig, “Whatever, Red suited you.”
She held the squirming puppies in her lap, watching them seek warmth while holding a small container of sugared ice for the mama to lick and enjoy after pushing out ten little bodies, “Good thing I wasn’t wearing a different colored shirt.”
Joel’s eyes were on her and she looked up at him, finding him watching her with the slightest tilt of his lips. She knew he was worried about her, had already been fighting tooth and nail with his brother and his pregnant wife over her position. He was working harder to help her than Ellie who had adjusted quickly. This was the one job inside of Jackson’s walls she was relaxed in and she could feel him taking in the way she seemed at ease. The smile grew, warming.
“Did Maggie have the pups?” a familiar voice rang out.
The smile vanished and she stiffened.
The kennels had been converted from one of the old stables, the dogs held in old horse stalls on either side of the room. She couldn’t see the woman from her position on the floor, the walls of the stall blocking the view, but she knew it was Harper that had walked in. She came up to Joel’s side, almost touching shoulders, and looked down at her and Ellie with the pups and Maggie.
“Oh, hi Red,” Harper’s smile became a bit tighter, head tilting, “I didn’t realize you were the one taking care of her.”
She didn’t answer, averting her gaze to Maggie and adjusting the bowl for her to lick. Ellie answered instead, enthusiastically holding the puppy up in her hand, “She takes care of the dogs now! Joel named this one.”
The man frowned almost bashfully, shrugging, “It’s Brownie.”
Harper laughed and her dimples showed, head quirking as she looked at him, “That’s adorable.”
She couldn’t get up and leave with the puppies all around her and both Joel and Harper leaning on the pen door. She was trapped, listening to them chat and laugh and Ellie showing off all the dogs while she sat there and tried to be invisible. She wanted to scream, rage, do something other than be meek and small.
It was like every time the woman showed up, the version of her from two decades before took over her skin. The girl who had been shy and timid and didn’t know how to fight back. She wanted to scream at her to do something, say something, snarl at Harper that if she touched Joel one more fucking time she’d break her wrist and shove it down her throat.
Instead, she sat there, listening to Ellie talk to her easily and Joel’s soft musings, the three of them getting along better than she ever did.
Try. Try. Joel’s pleas haunted her constantly.
She was trying. God, was she fucking trying so hard. But this wasn’t an instance like with Grant who had touched her and paid the price or his fucking brother who had sneered in her face and called her a bitch. She could argue those were justified. She could have done worse to them and didn’t.
But the problem was Harper hadn’t done anything wrong to her. She hadn’t been mean, she hadn’t touched her, hadn’t done anything but make her feel small in comparison to her presence. There was no reason to fight her, to twist her pretty locks in her fingers and smash her face in until the strands turned red and she was nothing but a cavernous hole.
She hated settlement life. She hated the fucking politics of it all, the dance to be respectable.
Before, there was no time to worry about feelings or what her and Joel were, how he felt towards her, what her role was in their complicated mess of a relationship. It had moved beyond just sex, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. They’d gone through hell together. Maybe it was that she happened to be there, a place holder to fulfill all he needed while taking care of Ellie, but now he had options.
There were other women that could fill that place. Could be a better guardian to Ellie, could take care of Joel, could watch both of their backs. One that didn’t cause problems or that he had to jump to defend or cause Ellie to yell at gawking strangers on her behalf.
She tried not to focus on it. Swallowed it down deep in the pit of her stomach and refocused back on the things that mattered, which were caring for Joel and Ellie.
She tried not to think about it when later that evening when they’d gone to bed he pulled her into his body, hands roaming over her soft belly before gripping her tightly and pushing his hard length against her backside. She tried not to think when his fingers slipped inside of her, pumping in and out as his other hand squeezed her tit and pinched her nipped.
Tried not to think if he was pushing into her from behind because he was imagining someone else’s face.
The confusion turned to a twisted sort of pain and hurt and rage that needed an outlet. Defiance against her situation. She couldn’t do anything outside the walls of their house and her frustration was tearing her up. She was a fox with its foot caught in a trap, snapping and snarling at whatever she could but unable to do anything. She pulled away, feeling him slip out of her, and shoved him onto his back. Joel let out a small grunt at the hard push, but she didn’t care as she climbed on top of him, watching the small bit of confusion in his eyes. He knew something was off, but didn’t stop her. Let her take what she needed.
She had to feel some ounce of control.
So she rode him hard, nothing gentle to the way she rose and fell on him, sweat coating her skin and panting. There was no rhythm to it, only primal need and hurt carrying her movements. He sat up, brows furrowed and not keen on the distance of laying back, the angle changing enough she groaned. His hand caressed her neck softly in contrast to her harsh movements and the small tattooed stars on her collarbone he was always infatuated with. Almost as if he was trying to bring that version of her back to herself. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to give him an ounce of control over her, show him he could affect her at all.
Because that meant someone else had the power to hurt her.
Twisting her fingers in his curls tightly, she crushed her lips to his to avoid his searching eyes, swallowing every sound he made from the pleasure of their jutting hips. Her nails scraped along his scalp and into his shoulder hard enough she knew there would be red lines in the morning. He was letting himself be distracted, giving in, snapping his hips into hers equally rough with arms a tight band around her middle and holding her to his chest.
They were wrapped around each other. For once there wasn’t the coaxing sound of his urgings as he drew her moans from her usually quiet throat, his praise at how good she was for him and how she felt. He was silent in the face of her aggression and she wasn’t sure how to feel, trying desperately to chase that control and release of her emotions. Her lips left his swollen and bruised and she pressed open mouth kisses onto the hard muscle of his shoulder as the pace became a mess.
It wasn’t about her orgasm at that moment. She wanted to make him come, drag it from him like a trophy. Show him exactly what she could do to him.
And when he did find his release, the hot spend of his arousal filling her, she bit down hard into the skin of his neck making him groan harder and dig his fingers into her skin. He tasted like sweat and salt and the earthy air from working outside. She didn’t come, didn’t mention it or even want it, only held him tightly as he came down from the high and slid his hand over her naked back. His grip was a little harder and she kept her face tucked into his neck when he tried to meet her eyes.
They went to bed without any discussion, him holding her to his chest while her eyes stared into the darkness longer, listening to his breaths.
The sound of knocking in the early morning woke them up.
She heard Joel curse and throw on pants and a flannel, not bothering to button it up before lumbering down the stairs. Sleep beckoned to pull her back under, breasts pressed into the cool sheets and covers slid down from Joel leaving. It was usually Tommy, up early and taking care of things or letting him know of any problems.
But she paused at the distinctly female voice she heard.
A few minutes later Joel came back into the room and began to dress fully. She bit her lip, watching him from where her face was shoved into the pillow, brows furrowed. Boots, jacket, holster, gun. Everything signs he was leaving the walls.
He looked at her after snapping in his gun and paused when he noticed she was awake and staring, two large unblinking eyes watching him from behind her arms. Joel hesitated in the darkness, contemplating, almost guilty. It was supposed to be his day off. Yet here he was, racing off.
“Harper said one of the guys is sick and they’re short one so I’m gonna go help out with morning patrol,” he explained and nodded to himself, thumbs in his belt. A reasonable excuse.
She wondered if he hadn’t noticed she was awake would he have left without telling her? But still, she said nothing and tucked her face back into the pillow, exhausted and a little sad and drowning in her own deteriorating self-esteem and doubt. A few moments later, she ignored the trail of his fingers on her naked back, soft and apologetic, before he left the room.
Most of the time it was Tommy asking him to fill in. He didn’t say yes often and would tell him to shove it before going back to their bed. But Harper had asked this time and she felt her hackles raise at the fact she’d come to their house. To ask him specifically. And he’s been quick to say yes.
These feelings weren’t something she knew how to process or handle. Who the fuck handled being jealous of all things in the apocalypse? It was ridiculous, but settling in Jackson had allowed those things to creep in. She became aware of all she lacked and all she couldn’t handle and how other people didn’t have the same issues as her.
She let her instincts guide her.
The kennels became her home. She knew when Joel was home and avoided him, knowing that if she didn’t see him with Harper then it wouldn’t hurt as much versus death by a thousand cuts. She knew better than to try and sleep in the downstairs room, he’d only find her and yell at her to go upstairs, so she went to bed early or late. Asleep before he would show up or waiting until he was sleeping himself.
Ellie followed her around when she wasn’t going to classes or helping out where she could. The girl never asked directly what was wrong, but she knew something was up. There was worry in her eyes and she would ask for help with inane tasks, trying to lure her home like luring a frightened dog home with a treat.
She didn’t want to worry or hurt her, but the feelings were choking her and she didn’t know how to cope. Some nights, she missed her sister and having someone to walk her through it all. Annie had been so much smarter than her despite her young age. She understood the world better, was sassy like Ellie, and could read people so well. Unlike her who was gullible back then and immensely naive, unsure and anxious constantly. Book smart, but not much else.
But Annie was gone along with that version of her.
Sometimes she’d feel Joel inching closer to her in the bed, hands ghosting over her shoulder or brushing through her hair when he thought she was asleep. His lips brushing her skin. Never pushing, far too patient.
When he left for morning patrol, she pretended to stay asleep. Harper would be in his group and when that happened, she liked to wait outside the house for him.
The kennels welcomed her and she spent time with each dog, shoving her face into their necks and running her hands over their fluffy coats. She checked on the puppies and weighed them all, walking Maggie so she could get a break from the squirming things. She even spent time with the older dogs, taken off duty, making sure they got attention and massaged their joints and hugged them in her lap.
Her brain made backup plans. If Joel asked her to leave the house, she could set up a cot in the kennels and stay there. There was even a small converted garage she could live in if she needed to. If they asked her to leave, she could go north and stay within distance enough she could visit Ellie often enough. Maybe set up a radio code similar to what Joel had told her about their friends Bill and Frank so she could set meet up spots.
The latter was more likely. People only put up with her because of Joel and if he chose Harper then there wasn’t any reason to keep her in Jackson to them. Ellie would have guardians, she wasn’t necessary.
Hours passed while she cared for the dogs. She skipped breakfast and lunch, choosing instead to spend time training them or napping with the senior dogs in their pens.
It was mid-day when the doors opened and she heard footsteps enter. They weren’t familiar and her body stiffened instantly, shutting the pen door behind her as she exited Maggie’s enclosure. Sometimes it was one of the patrols, coming to switch out the dogs, but they didn’t always take them out unless someone was spotted and none had been taken that day.
Her heart thudded even louder when she saw who it was, Harper’s smile a little too tight as she made eye contact.
In all the times since the newcomer had joined Jackson, she’d never been alone with the woman. Now she didn’t like the lack of a buffer, the way her focus took in every inch of her. But in the same way, the cracks in her mask were showing. What had seemed gentle in the lines of her face were now condescending, mocking, ingenuine. Her lips were stretched thin in almost a sneer and those blue eyes were hard.
Oh. She could see the game then, the cunning analyzing way this woman looked at her. She was right. Harper was a survivor, was so very smart, and was also willing to do whatever to get her way. You don’t survive this long by being sweet and kind and caring. You had to be ugly sometimes, but Harper had gotten good at hiding that ugliness from the right people. There was no reason to hide it from her though.
The woman stepped further in and walked towards her languidly, trailing her hands along the stable doors. Her exit was cut off, having to move around the woman to leave, and she began to see the situation for what it was. A standoff. A fight. Her teeth were grinding, nails sinking into her palm if only to inflict some kind of violence to keep herself in check.
Harper smiled, faux kindness painted on her lips, “They told me about you, warned me to be careful around you, and all the problems you’ve been having. They told me how you’re on your last leg here.” She paused and the smile widened, “You should just go and save everyone the trouble. Ellie’s doing great here and from what Joel has told me, he’s enjoying having his brother back and this new settlement life. If you really care about them, you’d realize you’re holding them back.”
Her blood was boiling, rage roaring through her head at Harper’s gall to mention her people, and she growled, “And you’re so worried about them, right? Concerned citizen?”
“Joel has been through a lot,” Harper spat out and she wanted to snap her teeth as if she didn’t fucking know, “He shouldn’t have to worry about some woman messing things up and getting them kicked out.” Some woman, as if that was all she was. The words were spit out of her mouth like they were covered in grime and blood.
She didn’t even bother to hide what she meant. The words were all there, the implication that the man had opened up to her, told her about his life and what they’d been through, and his feelings regarding this new chapter. Things he hadn’t told her yet, too busy trying to douse fires and help her get settled.
Cleaning up her messes.
With a clenched jaw, holding in the hurt and the anger to keep from showing the damage, she bent down and grabbed her bag to try and leave. There was no winning in this sense because she was right and she’d never been good with words. Better to get out of there, go somewhere else before the damage took hold and would start to fester, “Your concern is noted.”
Moving to go around her and leave, Harper stepped in her path, shoulders straight and spine rigid with her chest puffed out, “It’s not just for them. This is a civilized place.” And you’re not that went unsaid, “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and go? They’ll be fine and happy. No one has to worry if you’re gonna freak out and kill someone and you can finally roam the forests and be back home.”
She was so close she could smell the trees and wind on her, the slight hint of sweat from the horse. Too close. Close enough she could wrap her teeth into her flesh and bite and rip.
Too tempting.
“Or you can get the fuck out of my face?” she hissed with her teeth bared. It was all rising, the urge to hurt her. She’d hurt so many people for less and it would feel so good to break her knuckles open on her mouth, to hear the cartilage in her nose crack.
But her smile turned smug and she only pressed in, almost chest to chest, and using her few inches of height to look down at her, “Or what? What can you do? They’ll kick you out and do you really think Joel would be on your side if you hurt me?”
That made her hesitate. Because she wasn’t sure.
With the other women, the men and their obvious disdain for her, yes he would defend her. But this new person who was like a merging of all he liked? Tough but good with people and pretty and able to hold her own, someone he trusted at his back. Would he defend her?
Harper sensed that hesitation and, before she could blink, took advantage and shoved her back. She stumbled, losing ground, so aware she was trapped. The fox with its leg in a noose, all over again. Fighting would give her exactly what she wanted. Not fighting back made her weak, someone to trample on. Someone too weak to live.
“Come on. Settlement life make you lose your bite or are the rumors hot air?” Harper hissed and shoved her again. Her instincts were screaming to fight, to shove her back, grab her knife, or use her fists. Beat her teeth in and make her swallow each one to the point she could only eat soup until she choked on it. But that hanging threat was there like a guillotine, Tommy’s voice saying Maria was considering kicking her out.
Joel asking her to try.
So she did nothing. She clenched her fists and bit her tongue until blood coated it. And when Harper threw a punch, snapping her head to the side, she still did nothing.
Shame and anger and resentment bloomed in her chest and the small taste of blood grew until she could feel a steady trickle down her throat as her nose took the brunt of the damage. She’d killed so many people for simply touching something of hers, looking at her, had done awful things to protect herself and her two people, and yet she would take this if it meant keeping them safe and happy.
But it felt so much like losing to just let it happen.
“Can’t do anything, can you?” Harper chuckled, “They don’t need you, ya know that? You’re baggage. Joel and Ellie’s lives would be so much easier without you dragging them down-”
“The fuck you just say to her?”
The moment the deep voice snarled through the kennel, she saw Harper freeze. It came from the open doorway and she watched as the sneer on her face morphed into surprise and then tried to turn soft, apologetic. Fake.
They both turned and watched as Joel entered the kennel, lips twisted into a hard frown and brow shading his eyes. He was looking at the woman differently now. Like an outsider or a threat. She could see the subtle fear and discomfort swim to the surface under that gaze. The game was up. Mask invisible.
“Joel-”
“Not another word. You shut your fucking mouth,” he snarled and Harper shrunk in response.
She watched it all with a disconnect, feeling the blood slide down her lips and into her mouth. There was no relief at his appearance. Shame was still a heavy blanket on her shoulders at him finding her cowed.
With a gulp, Harper’s gaze swung between the two and she slid away, scurrying around him and towards the exit. But not before he called out, “If you say a goddamn word to her ever again, I’ll let her finish what you started and swear before the whole town that you deserved every bit of what she does to you. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get punished for a single fucking thing.”
The threat was there but not from him. No, even catching them with her own blood smeared across her face, he knew she could do the damage herself unrestrained and untethered. That this moment was a special circumstance because what she could do was far worse than what he would.
Harper ran and didn’t look back.
Silence took over between them, tension thick enough the dogs whined and pawed at their pen doors. She stood stiff and unmoving, eyes not meeting his but looking off into the darkness.
He was the first to break the silence. “Why didn’t you fight back?” Joel asked, a growl still in his voice but not towards her.
She smiled humorlessly, hands on her hips and staring down at the door floor. Her blood was speckled on the ground, “Because I’m trying.”
Joel scoffed and stepped more into the room, grabbing her chin until she looked up at him. From his back pocket, he pulled out a rag and gently began to wipe the blood from her face, “Trying to do what? Be a punching bag?”
Blood was in her throat when she swallowed, heart beating a little louder at his touch, but she continued to avoid his gaze, “Integrate.”
He paused at the word, his thumb rubbing the edge of her jaw compulsively. Then his grip tightened and he turned her forcefully to meet his gaze. Joel’s eyes were hard and lips pressed thin with anger but also regret and frustration, “I don’t give a shit if we’re integrating or whatever. Someone gives you shit, lays a hand on you, fuck even makes you feel like you don’t belong with us then you knock their fucking teeth in.”
She swallowed as he all but snarled the words at her, his fingers so tight on her skin, but he continued, “Settling down here doesn’t mean I want you to become a doormat and I’ll argue with Maria until I’m fucking blue over that. They start shit? Then you sure as fuck finish it.”
Her teeth clenched and she felt the sharp coppery tang of the blood still in her mouth, “They’ll kick me out-”
“No, they won’t,” he hissed angrily, “I fucking mean it, Red. I don’t want you softening for our sake if it means people try to make you feel like shit. Your place is here with us. No one is going to get between us, I can assure you that.”
“She wasn’t wrong,” she replied softly as if saying it out loud was exposing an open nerve, exposing her insecurity to him, “I’m baggage. She could take care of herself and you and Ellie. She can cook and watch your back and gets along with people. I can’t do that-”
“Stop,” he ground out, “I’m not that easy. Jesus, I’m not going to chase after the first woman that can hold a gun and make me a fucking pie.” Despite his hard words, he still gently wiped her face clean, taking such care in checking her over and making sure she was okay. It was almost too much, “Give yourself some credit, Starshine-”
“You spent a lot of time with her,” the words were like ripping open her skin, bitter and stupid and raw as they spilled out of the wound, “She’s…from Austin and…you laughed and smiled with her. You just seemed happier around her.”
Joel paused and pulled back a little to fully take in her expression and what was at play. She could see the moment he saw her, really saw her no matter how hard she was trying to hide her feelings. The insecurity. The jealousy. Everything she had struggled with. He chewed his lip and nodded, brow furrowing a bit harder, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize what she wanted or how she was making you feel. But you’re fucking stupid if you think I wouldn’t turn her ass down in a second.”
The words weren’t gentle or soft, but they were said as a fact. The simplest fact that Joel would never choose Harper. That he wasn’t actively pursuing that.
And it worked.
She felt the tightness in her shoulders ease a bit as he pulled her forward into his embrace, pressing a kiss against her forehead. Her fingers dug into his back, gripping the worn denim fabric of his shirt tightly and she couldn’t help but sigh into his embrace. Home. It felt like home and comfort and everything she had felt she was missing.
Breathing him in, she mumbled against his chest, “She’s probably going to complain next time you have patrol with her.”
“She’s not going to be on patrol with me,” he murmured into her ear, pulling back to sweep her messy hair behind her ears, “I’m gonna make sure she works exactly where she belongs. On shit duty.”
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to come to my rescue,” she argued albeit weakly.
“Oh I’m not,” Joel chuckled, lips turning up into a smirk, “This is all for me. No one insults what’s mine.”
She looked at him, brow furrowed at the words, mind trying to process them. But she didn’t get very far before his lips were on hers, kissing her hard and tugging her back flush against his body so she could feel exactly how much he wanted her.
Her nails dug into his skin, teeth tugging on his bottom lip, while his hands kneaded the soft curves of her ass, pressing the hard front of his jeans into her stomach. He groaned into her mouth and pulled away enough to speak against her lips, grip on her still tight, “Let’s get back home so I can fuck you so hard you’ll stop doubting yourself.”
She chuckled, wanting to argue that that was a hard promise to keep, but he was already dragging her out of the kennels and into the darkening streets as the sun began to lower.
True to his word, Harper found herself with a brand new post going forward. Tommy didn’t mention the reason why to her, didn’t pull her aside and question her over what happened. Ellie didn’t even mention her bruised nose. Whatever Joel had told them was enough.
The woman went out of her way to avoid going anywhere near any of them going forward, even straight turning in the opposite direction when she saw them and eventually coming off patrol duty all together. She tried not to feel satisfied at that.
Tried not to feel more at ease or proud of herself when Maria told her she was doing a damn good job with the kennels and asked if she wanted to take on more duties, almost cementing that she wasn’t going to be asked to leave.
Joel and Ellie did that for her, celebrating every small win and reminding her exactly where she belonged. With them.
_________________________________________
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Oracle!Reader Part 16
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 15, Part 17
Warning! This is sagau imposter so expect some gore and manipulation this chapter! At least no death this time :D
Each step of your dirty shoes on the bare rocky terrain held more weight than Azhdaha's heart and soul. His body shuffled and shifted, resisting the urge to ram the barrier trapping him.
"Don't be so impatient, Azhdaha. You've waited for millennials, surely a minute for me to reach you is nothing." You slow your steps purposely to tease him with a deceivingly gentle smile.
The ground rumbles briefly as Azhdaha settles in place and rests his head on the ground. If he had fur instead of stone, you would believe he was just a giant dog.
"Forgive me your grace. The leylines I command are constantly blooming with power at your every step."
"Was it not the people of Liyue who harmed the leylines causing the events that led to your imprisonment here?" You ask, selecting your words carefully.
Red eyes carved from ruby stare at you as you stop right outside of the barrier surrounding his body. Not wanting to accidentally disable the barrier, you rest your hand on the closest pillar.
Pillars with the same design and origin of the one who was a little too late to save his dear friend from this fate.
"Was it not the ruler of those people that failed to reach you in time?"
"Even you, your grace, are aware of the shameful state I have been reduced to. Morax may have provided me with these defective eyes but at least now I can view your glorious prestige."
Surprisingly there is no rush of anger and violence in Azhdaha's movement and tone. He moves closer till his face is gently pressing against the Geo-decorated barrier.
"I beg of you, Creator of all things. Let me feel your skin, your warmth. The memories of my creation are lost to the erosion of time. Whether it be your hand or foot, I will adore it all the same. I am nothing but the groundskeeper to your playground called Tevyat."
A originally blind dragon has no need for eyelids so all he can do is gaze pleadingly at your silent form. Blue crystalline clink on the ground as it drops from his eyes as the silence persists. Even still you stare at him with a blank expression until his head is completely bowed to the ground.
An isolated dragon desperate for even the slightest bit of affection was like wet clay for you to mold to your liking. The only thing that ruined any plans you had for him was that dreaded erosion. You seriously doubted that he could stay calm and lie to match your facade the way Beisht can.
"Rest easy now, Azhdaha." Your hand moves through the yellow barrier, which thankfully doesn't deactivate it, to lay on his rocky forehead. "A dragon like you, who I have created with my own hand before this vessel, is not easily forgotten. Many of your brethren have perished before I could return."
Cupping what little of his wide, rough jaw, you tilt his head to stare up at you. A delicate expression with sadness and love swirling together is what paints your face. "You have done so well to persist this long, Azhdaha."
A loud roar of anguish is let loose as he tries to move further into your touch. Ignoring the threat of scraps, you pet his stony exterior with a smile.
"Your grace! Your holiness! Those words are what fuel my pitiful existence. The feel of your skin on this degraded body brings memories of my creation from the clutches of erosion."
Mindlessly stroking the weeping dragon, you think deeply on his words. 'Memories of my creation' is what he called it. Azhdaha was struggling at first due to the contrasting information from the eyes corrupted by the Gnosis and the leylines of Teyvat. All it took was your touch on his body for him to fully give in to you.
Perhaps the other dragon sovereigns and primordial beings will recognize you easily with your touch as well. Could it work on the Archons too?
"Are you okay, your grace? I know that day, you were injured due to my own careless ruling. I failed to control my subjects and you suffered from it. If death is my penalty for my negligence then I will accept it wholeheartedly."
The strange and unexpected words laced with guilt made you confused. Caressing the rugged layer of stone near his eyes to grab his attention, you ask carefully. "What do you mean by that?"
His tail lowers onto the ground as he speaks lowly. "Not long ago, the Geovishaps were making their rounds on maintaining the leylines when two hatchlings got lost."
Oh, you knew where this was going.
"When they dug back up to the surface, they were in the city. While trying to escape, they hurt someone. They hurt you." That last word is said with bubbling anger. Resisting the urge to yank your hands away from the dragon capable of turning into a volcano, you brush your hands further to distract him.
"Teyvat had already warned us elemental beings about someone injuring you with malicious intent. To feel the leylines in your area go into a frenzy from that incident made my blood boil. It's only fair that the perpetrator suffers the bare minimum consequences."
So, it wasn't Teyvat that had the hatchling kill the other. It was Azhdaha.
Despite the harsh truth that Azhdaha just admitted, your hands seemed to move on their own to keep Azhdaha subdued. You aren't necessarily scared of Azhdaha, you're just more cautious on how to approach leaving him.
You couldn't just teleport out, who knows how Azhdaha's battered and worship-obsessed brain would interpret it. You didn't need a bunch of Geovishap and Geovishap hatchlings chasing you throughout Liyue.
But the thought of returning back to the city takes less priority than your current one. A dragon one head scratch away from rolling over at your command is vulnerable to your words. Just what could you strip from Azhdaha for future use?
"Azhdaha, you love me don't you?" You ask it with a deceivingly shaky voice as your hands halt their stream of pets. His reaction is immediate.
His claws scratch the ground as he stands to his full height. Even still, his back hunches trying to keep himself respectful to your much smaller form. "My love for you will exist even after my death. Every Geovishap that roams this world and every leyline that reacts to your presence is proof of my love for you, beloved Creator."
A small, sad smile crosses your face at the words he utters with zeal. It was so easy to get his deteriorated brain to fall for your expertly crafted facade of vulnerability. It's not like he was your first or last victim to this 'side' of you.
School faculty couldn't turn a blind eye to the way you paled at the cost of lunch. Empathetic, heroic, and kind students wouldn't resist the urge to defend, tend to, or help you when any bullying started. Even strangers with bleeding hearts had no problem giving you food or money when you were a roaming teenager with nothing but a backpack.
The money you saved by not paying lunch almost always went straight to the locked box you had for when you would be inevitably moved to a new guardian. All the bullying incidents were helpful in making the other students invite and accept you into any group of your choosing. It's not like anyone would believe that meek and polite you could jump the bullies on their way home with a malicious smile and a blunt weapon, nor would a passing stranger that helped you be aware of the man and cat that you returned to completely contrasting the story you spun.
"Then you're willing to protect me, right? Ei, that Bakufu was intent on seeing me as an imposter. She tried to take my life right when I just returned. It's due to that, that I have to live in fear of this mask being removed."
Moving closer, you rest your forehead against his head, trembling in fear of the horrid memory.
"I'm sure if I arrived in Liyue instead of Inazuma, I would be able to walk on Teyvat with you proudly on the surface with me. You would protect me, you would fight for me. You would die for me, would you not? Dragons are known for their loyalty after all."
Azhdaha continuously repositions himself as he breathes heavily. There's no doubt he's torn between anger against Ei, happiness at your trust, and excitement at the prospect of being on the surface.
"You have my word, my grace. I would fight any enemy, defend any stronghold, obey any command you have for me. Simply relay your order and I will fulfill it to perfection. And if it pleases you, allow me the honor of destroying the Shogun for her unforgivable sins."
"But can you really protect me with those imperfect eyes?" Your words are spoken gently with a smile laced with sweet poison. "You are putting me in danger by using those corrupted eyes to watch over me. Do you not know why I crafted you without eyes?"
A sole finger touches the edge of the red jewel eyes as silence permanence the air. He doesn't flinch from the fleeting fingertips despite the slow unraveling of your intentions.
"Geo lifeforms that stay underground don’t have eyes as they have no need for it. And as thankful as I am that Morax provided you with eyes to enjoy the surface, it wasn't my original design for you."
Experimentally tapping his eyes and smiling at the crystalline texture, you speak with a low timber. "You were always meant to stay underground to properly care for the leylines. You didn't know it at the time, but accepting these eyes had the same effect as accepting Celestia's lies."
You let Azhdaha think deeply on your revelation as you pet the area around his eyes. The mere fact that he was contemplating it was a good sign, those eyes are proof of his contract with Morax after all.
"Your benevolence, are you requesting the destruction of my eyes?"
"Of course not, Azhdaha!" Laughing reassuringly, your fingers dig into the corner of his eyes ignoring the way he flinches in pain. "I'm commanding you to give me those eyes. I cannot bring you to the surface with me, so bringing a remnant of you will soothe my aching and lonely heart. It's convenient that those eyes prevent you from doing your job correctly too."
A low pained groan leaves his jaw as your other hand mimics the action of the former. Nails digging into his eye cavities, you feel the ruby eyes lift from the force. Azhdaha's body shakes, alerting you that you pushed him far enough. Releasing his eyes you take a step back to be out of the barrier in case he makes any attack.
"I once yearned to see the sun, that blazing ball of fire that lights up this world providing it with the warmth to live. All because I knew that you must shine even brighter than it. In those days of old, envy and despair consumed me as did the love and joy I felt being embraced in this world that you crafted. I know better now. I know that even without these eyes that I enjoyed from that traitor I once called my friend, I could still make out your glorious form. Every leyline on this planet shines like dull cobblestone in comparison to the gold figure that stands in front of me."
"I have no way to wretch these crystal eyes out of the unneeded cavities. Take them from me, your grace, take any part of my body that you desire. My sole regret is that I could not offer you my original body to pick from."
An excited smile stretches across your face with a heartfelt caress to the bridge of his nose. "Thank you Azhdaha, do not fret. The day that I craft you eyes worthy of the dragon you once were is near. Thank you for being such a good boy."
Despite the condescending tone to your last words that slipped out, Azhdaha still rejoices with the same fervor of a real dog. The tree tail wags slowly, revealing his happiness.
Carefully, you dig your nails into his right eye. It's heavy and hard to pull out. This would surely be easier using your sickle but you didn't want Azhdaha to feel even more pain. At least with you using your hands, he feels some comfort in your skin.
After a tough tug, the eye is finally out and stuffed haphazardly into your bag. Blue crystalline liquid coats your hands and flows from the now-empty cavity. Wiping it off on your clothes carelessly, you give Azhdaha a break by petting him.
"Just one more Azhdaha, then it'll be done." He leans into your touch without a single sound escaping him. You aren't fooled by that tough facade. He's silent in fear that speaking will only result in his pained cries.
The red jewel chips slightly as you dig it out of his head. Beads of clear blue roll down as you grit your teeth. It finally comes out and that trickle becomes a stream. Putting the eye into your bag, you peek at the now blind dragon.
A slow, continuous dribble of aqua crystalline stains his face as the cavities slowly stitch close. The cavities closing simultaneously are heard by the cracking and grinding of rocks. Azhdaha curls into himself from the pain but refuses to allow any sound escape him.
Your body moves on its own to hug the suffering dragon. Murmurs of praise and thanks leave your lips as the rocks creak louder and faster. The tear tracks left on his face stain your clothing blue yet you can't find it in yourself to care.
A selfish person, that's what you were to your core. There are no words you can use to justify what you have done to Azhdaha. You may never have the power to craft new eyes for him. You may not even live long enough to research how. Yet, you still manipulated him into giving it up. The bitter self-hatred and burning feeling of loathing yourself builds up inside you.
"As sad as I am to surrender my eyes, there is nothing that brings me greater joy than to be of use to you your grace. I will readjust to living without eyes."
Releasing him, you stare at his now-healed face. The cavities have been completely sealed shut as if there were never eyes to begin with. His voice is deep and rumbles softly.
"The leylines of this world relay to me more than elemental crystals shaped in the visage of eyes can."
The words do little to ease the guilt you feel for your cruelty but before you can do anything, a loud sound interrupts your thoughts. Frowning, you adjust your bag back onto your shoulders and look at the entrance to Azhdaha's lair.
It's silent and it only makes you more suspicious. Taking a few steps toward the lair's entrance, a glow behind you makes you whip around quickly. Azhdaha's body glows with white cracks throughout his body as he roars ferociously.
Backing up in confusion, you watch in disbelief as Azhdaha's body shrinks and compresses. Loud bangs echo from the lair entrance in sync with Azhdaha's deafening cry.
That loud bang is accompanied by the sound of the seal covering the entrance shattering. Deciding to focus on the unknown intruder first, you catch the sight of a tall figure walking with powerful steps toward you.
A sole amber eye is what catches your attention first.
Brown hair with glowing tips loosely drapes over an earthy-colored hanfu. Only a stub can be made out from inside one of the dark sleeves as the tall man looks at you with an emotionless expression.
"Zhongli. It sure is a surprise to see you here." Your mind spins as it tries to comprehend just why Zhongli was here. Azhdaha's unwavering roars, his missing eyes, just everything about this situation was suspicious.
His other arm, which thankfully hasn't been cut off, raises to cup your face. Gloved fingers are featherlight on your dusty cheek as you stare up at him with perplexion clear on your face. He leans closer to speak with unwavering confidence.
"Why did you leave?"
He's got to be kidding.
"Why wouldn't I leave? I wasn't interested in being a third wheel to your conversation with the Creator." You answer back with a disbelieving tone before getting startled at the slam of a hulking body hitting the ground.
"MORAX! How dare you reappear in my prison after all that you had done?! What audacity have you fostered that let you dare to touch the Creator?!"
Fuck
Shit, oh fucking hell.
Thousands of curses swarm your mind at Azhdaha's words, you keep your face in its confused expression as you run through any plan or excuse to survive.
"You're making Y/N uncomfortable with your insane claims, Azhdaha. They're an Oracle sent from the world the Creator is residing in." Zhongli is calm in his refute to Azhdaha's tantrum.
Pushing Zhongli's hand off your face, you turn to look at Azhdaha who is now much smaller. His stature is exactly like you saw when you played Genshin. That bright light must have not only degraded his body to the erosion-damaged body but his brain too. It's simply too suspicious that he became this wildly angry at Zhongli's presence.
Looking up at Azhdaha with sad eyes and a kind voice you speak gently, as if trying to soothe the dragon with no idea of what he claimed.
"I know my presence is similar to the Creator due to my otherworldly origin, but I'm really just Y/N. The erosion must be so painful that it even brought you down to this point. The creator hasn't forgotten you, I can promise that."
Zhongli frowns as Azhdaha tries to refute you. "NO! Don't you see, your grace?! That traitor is merely trying to keep you from reaching your full glory to keep you to himself!"
"How can you say that when you can't see at all?" Zhongli's voice is chilly as he places his gloved hand on your shoulder. His grip is tight and you try to step away. He doesn't budge and merely pulls you closer to him.
"Solidify!" The familiar line is yelled before a dome-like shield completely covers you and Zhongli. Your confusion on his action is answered when rocks from the ceiling start to rain on the shield. His hand positions your head to look back at him.
"Why won't you look at me Y/N? Do you still hold bitterness against me for my doubts against you? I was proven wrong utterly and completely, I apologize for my rudeness."
His voice is pleading and his lips tug down into a sad frown. You really can't understand why Zhongli's just ignoring all the suspicious things in this situation. Was the attachment acolytes feel towards you already affecting him this strongly?
"I'm not mad at you. Sure, it was annoying that you kept suspecting me despite all my efforts but you do believe me now after sacrificing so much. Actually, just what and how much did you offer? The sky lit up quite a few times."
An excited smile graces his lips as he takes a step closer to you, but unexpectedly sways making you grab his arm in worry. He laughs gently before speaking.
"After I noticed your disappearance, I gave as many offerings of my body as I could. Not only as my repentance toward the Creator but also as an apology to you."
Your eyes trail down his change of clothes. The hanfu is black with brown, gold, and white parts to it. The Geo symbol sign is clearly stitched into the inner robe.
"Is that why you have a change of clothes and are swaying so much? Be honest and tell me what part of your body you gave."
With closed eyes and shaky breaths, he places your hand on the top of his head. His hair is ticklish to your bare palms. "This human body wasn't nearly enough to make an impactful offering. But my Exuvia is adequate for our beloved creator. Naturally, my horns were the first to go."
The slight nub you feel between his locks must be the stump from his horns. You aren't sure whether to be sick or amazed. But Zhongli doesn't stop there, he takes advantage of your bewilderment and takes hold of your other hand.
"My spines were the next to be cut off. Those jagged ambers were more helpful for flying than anything else." His head nuzzles your hand on his hair as he takes your other hand to the spine of his back. You can feel the ridges of the amber remnants.
"My tail was in a similar position, useless in my current form. If only they didn't bleed so much. If the creator took any longer to accept my offering, I would have passed out from blood loss."
Even more worried about his physical state, you try to pull your hand away from his back and graze his side making him hiss in pain. He's quick to grab hold of it again and press it deeper into his side. Your jaw drops as he groans in pain and gives you a pained smile.
"I severed my claws yet got no response. I really believed I would have to stop at that point but I remembered another draconic part of my body that I could offer."
Your eyes filter between his happy and pained smile and the hanfu that was starting to blossom with red. Just where the fuck was he going with this?
"My skin, or rather, my scales were still in my body. Each clink of the scales as they were torn or cut out of my body may have left me lightheaded from the gushing wounds. But nothing could compare to the feeling of the Creator accepting me."
Blinking in pure shock, your mind struggled to comprehend the mere insanity of his actions. You were joking about him having the possibility of sewing his mouth shut from finding his idle annoying. This motherfucker would actually do it!
Zhongli takes your reaction, or rather lack of reaction, in stride with him pulling you closer to him. Your hands rest on his body to not be pressed against him but that only has him wincing in pain. He stubbornly holds you closer as you cringe from the feeling of wet blood seeping through his hanfu and onto your skin and clothes.
"Stop. Doesn't this hurt you? Just how long will it take you to heal, let alone regain those dragon features?" Asking him with the purpose of distracting him, you speak in a rush. He merely hums as his arms stay around you firmly.
"Elemental beings like myself will always recover. I'm exceptionally strong with my status as an Archon, I'll be fully healed within a month at most."
You couldn't even linger on the idea that in a single month, he would be completely back to normal. The ground shook as more and more rocks fell on the shield. You couldn't stay trapped in Zhongli's embrace, at this rate you couldn't even stay in Liyue for much longer.
The slight sway of his movements, the slow speech pattern, and the rising of his body temperature permeating through his clothing gave you an idea.
Halting your resistance to his hold, your hands trail up his clothing with a pitiful smile. Rough and dirty hands from all the hardship you faced to get here cup his face enhancing the contrast of his smooth skin. His eyes immediately close at the contact with a deep rumbling sound coming from his chest.
"Still, it must be painful. Not just physically but mentally too. You have gained and lost so much over your lifetime. I have no doubt that it won't stop here. Just stay strong a little longer, won't you? Be patient till the Creator arrives and rewards you properly."
Zhongli's features soften till his eyes droop and his lips tremble. His full vulnerability is on display as he nuzzles into your palms shamelessly.
"Just what kind of ability do you possess? Young as you are, your ability to perceive and empathize with feelings is beyond your years. Do not stress for me, I have already been awarded by the Creator."
You frown slightly at his last words, not fully grasping at what his 'reward' from you was. The sacrificial method? The artifacts and weapons? He smiles at your confusion with half-lidded eyes.
Grasping your hands, he brings them closer to his mouth and kisses your knuckles with a smoldering grin. You aren't completely sure whether the pink decorating his cheeks is from embarrassment or a fever from his injuries.
"What greater reward than an Oracle sent from our God to soothe my soul?"
Suddenly you don't like where this is going. The thundering sound of rocks being thrown agrees with you.
"As fellow devoted servants to the Creator, should we not join in union? Marriage is a contract till death does us part after all."
There's no way this was happening. You were not getting proposed in a basement with a raging dragon just a few feet away from you.
Sensing your hesitation, Zhongli continues to speak with a romantic timber as he places a kiss on your palm.
"This may be sudden but I can assure you that I'll take care of you. I'll protect, provide, and love you as the closest person to our beloved creator. You may not love me now but just being from a different world has caused many problems for you. You are the only person who can match the amount of devotion I hold to our creator."
If this was a true confession of love at first sight or any other extremely fluffy trope, you would seriously contemplate saying yes. He wasn't wrong about your life being much easier with him by your side.
But it instantly died when he revealed that it was from you being such a strong believer and being the most intimately connected to the creator. It killed any romantic prospect of the situation. All you felt was dread and a longing to just leave.
You truly hope that he was only saying this shit from the blood loss getting to him. The annoyed expression you wear isn't even covered up, letting Zhongli see it plainly. His affectionate expression breaks and his lips part to ask you something but it's cut off by a bang.
It seems Azhdaha unknowingly agreed to break you out as a rock finally breaks the dome shield that had been protecting you all this time.
"Succumb to my fury Morax! Not even addressing the creator properly during your whole conversation is a disgrace to the Geo element and dragons alike!"
Wrath seemed to have consumed Azhdaha enough that one of the pillars of the barrier broke. Zhongli summons his spear and walks past you to stand protectively in front of you.
"Do not fret Y/N, I'll subdue Azhdaha so that he does not cause any more problems. Permanently." You absolutely did not want that but at the same time, you really wanted to escape this whole situation.
Azhdaha is going insane, Zhongli's bound to realize what you had taken from Azhdaha, and the duo of women are bound to get closer from the activity. That's not even counting how close this cave seemed to be from collapsing.
"Azhdaha is still the creator's loyal creation! He may have deteriorated from the erosion that you failed to prevent, but don't kill a loyal and faithful follower like him!"
Hitting Zhongli with such a sharp remark, you watch his deadly glare weaken. Azhdaha begins to make careless attacks toward Zhongli's vicinity which, unfortunately, you're still in.
Picking you up with ease, Zhongli dodges the many attacks and stops near the lair's exit. Azhdaha does his best to give chase but isn’t much of a threat in that size.
Setting you down and wiping away the small pieces of rock from your face, Zhongli gazes at you warmly.
"You should return to Liyue Harbor. I'm sure many things require your attention considering how much trouble you seem to get into. And when we meet again, I expect an answer to my question."
Trying to ignore his last words, you wave to him before he jumps back into battle with Azhdaha. As soon as his back is turned you book it out of the lair. Leaving the small cave entrance the night sky shines above you.
Thousands of stars shimmer as you stand in silence. It felt good to have a break from everything going on below ground. Walking slowly your eyes gradually climb up the Dragon-Queller tree trunk to admire its full beauty.
It seems you were correct in assuming that the crystalline blue glowed brighter at night. The cerulean-colored branches pulsed with an eye-catching glimmer. The orange leaves blew in the night air as the pink petals of the flowers below you swayed.
You spot a familiar-looking constellation in the sky that seemed to twinkle for your attention. Lapis Dei, Zhongli's constellation, was lit up by four points. It was pretty incredible that you went from a C0 to C4 in a matter of hours.
But, just what effect did constellations have on characters other than making them stronger? It was closely connected to your creator power so it must be important outside of the game. Would whatever effect it have differ between humans and archons?
What would have happened if you had gotten Zhongli to C6 before coming here?
Setting those lingering questions aside, you gaze up at the Dragon-Queller tree one more time before bringing up your game screen. You've finally witnessed everything about this area giving you a sense of satisfaction.
Creak
The sound makes you pause and lift your head up from the screen in confusion. It's silent for a few moments until Teyvat bombards your mind with a sense of something going wrong.
CRACK
Ice. Lots and lots of ice spring up from the ground circling around your feet. Quickly moving back from the ice, a sharp and cold solid spike tears through your calves. A cry of pain leaves you as you stop in place. Red drops of blood stain the spikes of ice that impaled you.
Did it break your bones? Was it an important muscle for running? If you pulled it out, would you lose too much blood?
Those thoughts swirled in your mind as the pain blinded you from the fact that Teyvat never stopped warning you.
Keeping a hand to your heart trying to slow your breathing and push down the rising sobs, you focus on what you can do now. But it's already too late. Something glints in the distance and a swish of air is heard before pain blooms from your chest.
Scalding water leaves boils on the right side of your chest as an arrow stays embedded into it. Tears of pain and anger stick to your eyelashes as you carefully move your head trying to spot the woman.
You knew Yelan and Shenhe were somewhere here. Even with the tears sliding down your mask, your lips were curled into a defensive snarl.
The small breaths you let out don't feel wet or painful, therefore your lungs are unharmed. Yelan had the skill and power to hit your lungs if she desired. This means she wants to speak to you, she wants some information you have.
She won't kill you yet.
Commanding Teyvat to show you where they were hiding, you blink sluggishly at the elemental sight being activated. Teyvat creates a path of Anemo leading to two separate points making you smile through the pain.
"Yelan, Shenhe. Shouldn't you both at least reveal yourself when taking a hostage?"
There's no need to play dumb at this point. They already suspect and harmed you to the point where it just wouldn't be smart to act ignorant.
After a beat, both women leave their respective hiding spots and make their way to you. Yelan is relaxed with an easygoing gait showing that she has all the time in the world. Shenhe is more ferous in her approach, weapon on hand, and a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Except Shenhe begins to sprint at you once you lock eyes with her. Despite the rapid thumping of your heart at her stance, you stay still not wanting to show that you could escape when needed.
As expected; Yelan grits her teeth in annoyance and activates her skill to catch up to Shenhe. Shenhe is just a few feet away from you, her spear is held out prepared to slash when she's pulled back by Yelan's lifeline. A sigh of relief escapes you as you slump into place.
"Not yet Shenhe, I need them alive for my job first. Afterwards, you can kill them as you please." Dropping Shenhe from her lifeline Yelan sighs in exhaustion.
Shenhe doesn't react much to Yelan's attitude. Merely brushing off the dust and repositioning her weapon while watching you.
"Eyes over here Y/N." The sound of your name from Yelan's lips catches your attention. She smirks at your wary glance and spins her bracelet. "Why don't you and I have a little chat?"
It's done! This one didn't take as long since I have been getting settled into school. If everything is cool and I'm fast then I could finish a chapter every weekend. But let's be honest. I'm far too unlucky for that.
This was edited by my annoying dear editor @serpent-benediction . Don't pay attention to him tho. That was mostly a joke!
I know the Zhongli cutting limbs wasn't as much as one would think since he goes around without his dragon features most of the time anyway. I just couldn't find a good reason on him cutting off his legs and still managing to fight Azhdaha. So, I hope everyone isn't too disappointed by that and can enjoy the most yandere character so far! Personally, I would not accept that marriage proposal.
But now we get to focus on Yelan and Shenhe! I've taken great care to keep Yelan's intention very vague, but I think those that have read her story have a good idea on why she's here. The next chapter should be quite exciting!
Taglist - remember if you're username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you!
@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia
#whisp's amateur work#sagau oracle au#genshin sagau#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#yandere sagau#genshin impact sagau#sagau#sagau cult au#sagau x reader#sagau impostor au#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere zhongli#yandere azhdaha#yandere yelan#yandere shenhe#genshin cult au#geshin impact
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In light of the recent awesome development with a charity spokesperson (more on that soon), just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has shared their stories with me, donated and raised awareness through reblogging my posts and spreading the word to friends and family.
I have big plans for the Someone Strong Project and next week is just the beginning.
If you have, or know someone who has ToF and/or Dandy-Walker Syndrome, please don't hesitate to reach out.
Love y'all x
#disability pride month#Dandy-Walker Syndrome#dandy walker syndrome#Tetralogy of Fallot#neurology#cardiology#congenital heart defects#epilepsy#actually epileptic#disability rights#disability representation#disabled women#disabled community#chronic illness#Dandy-Walker malformation#TOF#disability awareness
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𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.
Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name.
warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.
a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈
While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son.
Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.
Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.
“Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”
“Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.”
“I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.
Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise.
Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving.
“Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food.
“With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed.
The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs.
You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.
“You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’
“—I don’t snore.”
“—And looking like you were in a coma.”
Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.
“Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.
“Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”
You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”
“You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head.
You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”
Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering.
Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose.
You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”
Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed.
“Eat.”
He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster.
While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.
You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.
And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.
When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow.
“He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.
He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.
“Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”
“You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.
“Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.
“You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”
He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”
You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.
He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted.
“Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you.
“Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.
“You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.”
Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.
“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”
The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.
“You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”
Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.
He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love.
It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion.
The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really.
Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.
For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.
You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.
It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.
Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room.
He held you in your bed while you both cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you.
When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.
“Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.
“Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.
“Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”
Halle-freaking-lujah.
Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.
“I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”
Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.
“I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”
The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.
“Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”
Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.
You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.
Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.
Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes.
When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him.
“My little baby potatoes.”
“He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”
“I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”
“Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore.
“Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”
Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”
“Pomise?”
“I promise.”
She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”
“Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”
Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.
Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.
Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways.
Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.
After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.
It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged.
You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit.
Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.
Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you.
“What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.
You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well.
“Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”
The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her.
You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time.
It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.
GOOD.
On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.
“Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.
It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been.
Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat.
“Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”
“I wanna see ‘em!”
“You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out.
Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head.
Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one.
“You wanna hold him?”
“Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.
“Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.
“‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”
“Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.
“He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”
Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”
“Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”
“I heard you, his name is Wayne.”
Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.
“Wha—?”
“His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”
Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.
“‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times.
“I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.
“When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”
Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him.
Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete.
“So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”
Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line.
Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”
Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy.
Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”
“Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”
“Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.
“Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”
“No, Penny.”
After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.
You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.
On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show.
“Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention.
The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”
#pennyverse#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#dad!eddie munson x mom!reader#eddie munson x pregnant!reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#dilf!eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fanction#stranger things 4#stranger things volume 1#stranger things volume 2#stranger things vol 2#stranger things vol 1#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x you#joe quinn x reader#joseph quinn x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#girl dad!eddie munson
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𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞
“I have little left in myself―I must have you. The world may laugh―may call me absurd, selfish―but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
MASTERLIST | 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | AO3
wc— 4.1k
pairing— yandere!gn!reader x defected!getou
cws/tags— dead dove: do not eat, yandere/darling dynamic, erotomania, satosugu implied, kidnapping, mentioned drugging, restraints (ropes — shibari), death threats, bodily harm threats, m!nudity, gaslighting/manipulation, (brief) knife + blood, manhandling (hair pulling), pet names: “(my) darling”, dialogue-heavy
As he gradually unfurled his eyes, the surrounding world materialised through a dreamlike mist, and his senses stirred to life. Dispelling the remnants of slumber with a series of blinks, he discovered himself within a room bathed in the gentle embrace of candlelight, where the very atmosphere seemed to shimmer and stretch with drowsiness.
Stiffness and lethargy clung to him, as though his body grappled with the lingering tendrils of profound sleep. Testing the resilience of muscles long dormant, he flexed his fingers and toes, only to find the red ropes biting uncomfortably into his flesh in response to his resistance.
Lifting his weighty head, his befuddled mind grappled with the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. There you were. There he was.
His lips received a tentative lick as he inhaled deeply, his eyes darting around the candlelit chamber. "Why am I here?"
A kind smile played across your lips. "You're safe here, Suguru."
His heart jolted painfully within his chest, and he lurched forward, a groan escaping him as his vision swam and blurred. The rush of blood and adrenaline surged through his veins, his features oscillating between confusion, anger, and a palpable spike of fear. With each heaving breath, the red ropes flexed against his skin, binding the robust muscles beneath.
Despite the overwhelming circumstances, conviction etched into his gaze, he remained unconvinced.
“Who are you?”
“Oh, don’t say that. You know me so well—better than most, even. You’re in safe hands.”
Aware that his best chance lay in maintaining the conversation, distracting you while plotting an escape, he marshalled his thoughts. Familiar with binds of this nature, he was confident in his ability to slip free. After all, he reasoned, you wanted him here.
He stared at you, eyes narrowed, before a snort escaped him, followed by a chuckle. "...You kidnapped me, and claim that I'm safe? Are you serious?"
You hummed, tilting your head with an air of casual interest as you observed him from a chair opposite where he knelt. "You're with me. The safest place in the whole, wide world. Aren't you happy?"
Your gaze traversed him appreciatively, a profound adoration oozing from your every pore. Heat flushed your cheeks at the sight alone. There he was, entirely exposed to you, kneeling with the softest, most exquisite red ropes cradling his skin. The ropes artfully secured his wrists to his ankles behind him. You had waited for this moment, to witness his vulnerability, understanding that he was safer and more loved than ever before. His sculpted form, bathed in candlelight, revealed every ridge and contour you cherished. How effortlessly easy it was to love him in that moment.
Suguru's discomfort was palpable, evident in the tight set of his jaw and the furrowed brow as he caught wind of your appraisal.
He responded with a raised eyebrow, adopting a teasing tone laced with sarcasm. "Ah, yes," he remarked, eyes rolling. "Who wouldn't feel safe being tied up—naked? You're a real piece of work."
His smirk lingered, a subtle defiance in his expression as he couldn't shake off his wariness.
Your laughter, filled with good-natured amusement, washed over the room as you waved away his scepticism. "You're so funny! Really, you're funny!" you chuckled.
While you seemed genuinely amused, Suguru's suspicions persisted. The whole situation was too dubious for his liking, and he prepared to express his scepticism in a less than pleasant manner, wetting his lips.
"And you're just insane, aren't you?" he retorted plainly.
Your laughter continued, seemingly unfazed. "Don't say that, I'm so nice! If I were a real sicko, then I would've hurt you in your sleep. But I didn't do that, y'know? I'm not a freak."
Despite your assurances, Suguru remained unconvinced. His frown deepened as he observed your behaviour, finding it too peculiar for comfort. Your abnormal kindness only heightened his sense of unease.
Anger seeped into his tone. "Why the fuck am I here?"
Leaning forward, you invaded his personal space, wide-eyed and curious. "Are you okay? D'you have some sort of impairment? I just said I'm here to keep you safe," you giggled.
His tension escalated at your proximity, a mix of irritation and trepidation evident in his eyes. Suguru was not an idiot, not a monkey. How dare you suggest that? The sinking feeling in his gut intensified as the mystery behind your intentions deepened, leaving Suguru with more questions than answers.
Suguru strained against the unyielding ropes, attempting to create distance between himself and your unsettling proximity. The bindings, however, held steadfast, allowing minimal room for movement and posing the constant threat of an uncontrolled fall. The prospect of losing consciousness in your presence once more churned his stomach, creating a visceral sense of unease.
His gaze fixed intensely on your face, scepticism etched into his features. "...You're serious. You mean it, don't you?"
Your warm smile persisted as you reached out, intending a gentle gesture by tucking a lock of his smooth, dark hair behind his ear. He recoiled instinctively, as if your touch carried a searing heat. His eyes darted around the chamber with rapid intensity, registering the plastered walls adorned with talismans, scrolls, and wards—a meticulous effort to contain him, he realised, preventing the use of his Cursed Technique for escape. A sinking feeling settled in his chest.
"You’ve really thought this over," he murmured, a realisation dawning.
"Something wrong?" you whispered. "You seem a little on edge."
Your hands gracefully extended towards the intricate red ropes, their vibrant hue contrasting against the subdued ambiance of the room. Fingers curled with a practised grace, tenderly encircling the fibres before commencing a deliberate dance of tugging and tightening. The room held its breath as you skillfully secured the knots, the subtle tension mirrored in Suguru's wince as the ropes embraced the smooth, plush softness of his chest and thighs.
A ballet of sensations unfolded—the tactile precision of your movements, the hushed whispers of the ropes tightening. As your eyes traversed Suguru's form, every contour was noted, each nuance absorbed. A knowing smile played upon your lips, a hint of amusement at the palpable vulnerability now etched on Suguru's face.
Meanwhile, Suguru's scrutinising gaze became a discerning observer, meticulously analysing every facet of your being. His senses heightened, capturing the delicate interplay of scents, the nuanced details of your features, and the subtle shifts in your demeanour. Despite the unconventional circumstances, a flicker of hope ignited within him.
There was a recognition that you, despite the enigmatic scenario, did not exude immediate menace. A strategic gambit formed in his mind; he needed to keep the conversational threads flowing, a subtle dance to buy himself precious time to untangle the intricacies of the mystery that surrounded him, ropes and gazes interwoven.
"On edge? On edge? You're the one who kidnapped me! Do I have a reason to feel comfortable?" he retorted, sharp anger colouring his tone.
You furrowed your brows, a hurt expression crossing your face. Leaning away, you huffed, "But you're with me, Suguru."
"I know I'm with you, that's the problem!" Suguru tensed, a futile attempt to move away met with the unyielding grip of the ropes digging into his skin.
The mere sound of your voice addressing him by his name stirred a slight fluster within him. A disconcerting silence hung in the air, and he leaned back, a forced attempt at relaxation. His body, weary and aching, rebelled against him, his vision of you swaying in and out of focus. The realisation struck—he must have been drugged. The thought made him cringe, his heart racing as he contemplated escape. But would getting closer to you bring more harm than good?
"Who are you?" he whispered weakly.
You chuckled, shaking your head with a grin, playfully wagging a finger at him. “Oh, you’re good. You’re good, Suguru. You nearly fooled me, but I know you.”
He eyed you warily, raising a curious eyebrow. “We haven’t met.”
Laughter escaped you once more. “Oh, c’mon! The joke’s getting old now.”
“I have no idea who you are,” Suguru asserted. The puzzle of your identity loomed, and he remained trapped in a web of confusion and suspicion.
A disconcerting smile played on your lips as you leaned forward, rolling up the sleeve of your non-dominant arm, tinged with a disturbing nonchalance. "Ah, let me refresh your memory then. I might’ve made your dose too high, but I know you don’t mind…"
You thrust your wrist forward, revealing the words etched onto your skin—'My one and only.'
Suguru's heart pounded. The realisation hit him like a sledgehammer. Those sacred words, inseparable from the memories of another time, adorned your arm. Dread seeped into his veins, realising those words were an intimate connection to a past he couldn't fathom. Not with you. What right did you have to intertwine yourself with words, a person, a past that was never yours?
Your fond smile intensified as you observed his reaction. "You’re remembering now, aren’t you?"
Memories surged through Suguru's mind, but not the ones you had in mind—mercifully so.
“I think back to that afternoon. I have done, ever since you left Jujutsu Tech,” you continued, your tone laced with nostalgia. “I used to be so jealous of you and Satoru-kun calling each other that, y’know? I was still just some underclassman… But you always saw me.”
Horror painted Suguru's expression as he watched you trace the letters of the shoddy stick-and-poke tattoo. His bound hands trembled in futile resistance, the urge to summon a Cursed Spirit to end you becoming an agonising itch. How dare you intertwine Satoru's name with your own, inserting yourself into a past that was never yours to claim.
Your fingers, with a deliberate and measured elegance, curled and glided across each meticulously tied knot in the ropes. The vibrant, carefully chosen hues of the bindings seemed to complement the subdued atmosphere, creating a visual tapestry of constraint that both fascinated and enthralled. There was an artistry to the knots, but the masterpiece was your love before you.
As your fingers traced the lines of the knots, there was a sense of admiration for the handiwork that bound him. The tactile exploration became a silent celebration of the beauty in restraint, appreciating how each knot of limitation and vulnerability. The beauty of the constraints was not lost on you, and there was a certain satisfaction in witnessing how the ropes embraced him, both restricting and revealing in equal measure.
“That afternoon when you took me to your room and we did these for each other… And you promised me, then and there, that I was your ‘one and only’. Your real one and only—not just saying it to keep Satoru-kun happy. That you said it to him, but thought of me… You always were such a romantic.”
“Let me go.”
“I’m not done reminiscing yet!” you chirped. “And don’t ask me that again, okay? We have so much to catch up on, but we have all the time in the world now. Lucky us.”
"Let me go!" Suguru's yell echoed through the chamber.
In an instant, you closed the distance, your presence overwhelming as you gripped his chin with a frantic intensity. Wide, frantic eyes locked onto his, you muttered dangerously, "Didn't I just tell you not to ask me that?"
His body stiffened, fear coursing through him. Despite your smaller frame, you now exuded an intimidating aura that sent his heart into overdrive. Your hand on his chin quickened his pulse, the blood rushing to his face.
"Let me go, you freak!”
You clutched his jaw, your nails digging into his skin. "Don't you dare say that. Don't you dare be so ungrateful, okay? I'm keeping you safe from a world that wants you dead. You need me. You can't leave me," you spat.
Pain surged through him as your nails bit into his skin, a trickle of blood escaping. Your face hovered inches from his, your eyes mirroring the intensity of his own.
"B-but I don't need you..." he whispered softly, his trembling lips barely audible.
You responded with a cheerful laugh. "Oh, you do! You do, you do, you do!"
"I-I don't," he gasped, his attempts to pull away proving futile against your unyielding grip. "I don't want you."
Your shrieking laugh filled the room, a wild grin on your face. "There's not a thing in this world I wouldn't do for you! Nothing I wouldn't do! Who else can say that?"
His cheeks flushed red, embarrassment washing over him, buried as best he could. The warmth of your fingers on his chin contradicted the intensity of your words.
"You’re delusional," he whispered back, looking away from your gaze. He couldn't shake the feeling that you were spiralling into a realm of insanity that both terrified and repulsed him.
Your giggle resonated through the chamber, your expression softening as you gently brushed your free hand through Suguru's hair. The strands glided effortlessly between your fingertips, each one a delight. The coolness of the strands against your warm skin added a subtle contrast, intensifying the experience. There was a soothing rhythm to the motion, as if you were weaving through a secret, intimate tapestry as the strands gently cascaded through your grasp, making it shimmer.
"Oh, my darling. Says the pretty man who thinks he has a chance of killing all the non-sorcerers. You wanna talk about delusion? Let's talk about you."
The sensation of your fingers weaving through his hair nearly overwhelmed him. Your words and touch held an intimate quality that unsettled him. He stared at your hand, trapped and unable to escape the touch that both repelled and intrigued him.
"I'm not delusional," he insisted, his gaze fixed on your hand.
"Oh, but aren't you? You want to go out there, facing the world without me! You think you can handle them by yourself, and look where it's gotten you!" you chuckled breathlessly.
Annoyance flashed in his narrowed eyes. "Don't patronise me," he snapped. A small gasp escaped him, surprised by the admission that followed. "I hate you."
You staggered to your feet, frustration evident as you cried out, "Hate me? What right do you have to hate me? If I didn't care for you, why would I do this? I'm not like those sickos! Those freaks, those fucking perverts!"
Suguru remained still, his eyes widening as you vented your frustration. His fists clenched in the ropes, a silent expression of the urge to fight you for daring to raise your voice. Yet, he couldn't deny the impact of your words, hitting him in a way that left him defenceless.
"You—you do care for me, don't you?" he asked softly. It sounded like a plea, a desperate hope that you would deny the undeniable.
"You gave me no choice! I’m not a bad person! You were going to ruin yourself—kill yourself—over some dream of yours!" you screamed, the intensity of your words reverberating through the chamber. "You sent me a sign, that declaration of war—your Night Parade of a Hundred Demons! You needed me! I let you have your fun for years, watching you from the sidelines and ‘taking care’ of anyone who would’ve ended you! I made sure you were happy! I let you be happy, but I won’t let you kill yourself!"
As you paced, the candle flames danced in rhythm with your steps, casting erratic shadows on the walls. Your back turned to him, you tilted your head up, your gaze scanning the wards and talismans that adorned the room. "But you’re safe now. Thanks to me…"
Wheeling around to face him, you shook your head. "I just want you to live your best life. It’s… brave, what I do for you. It’s not easy, okay? Sometimes, it makes me sick. I’m brave."
Suguru remained silent, the weight of your confession hanging in the air. The complexity of your actions unfolded before him, revealing a side of you he hadn't fathomed. The blend of concern and obsession wrapped around your words left him grappling with the truth—however twisted it might be. The realisation that you saw yourself as a guardian, however misguided, made his heart throb.
Once again, a deliberate focus settled upon the intricate knots of the ropes as you meticulously checked and ensured the security of each binding. Your fingers, now with heightened sensitivity, traced the path of the knots, delicately brushing against the warmth of his skin. It ensured the practical security of the restraints, affirming the efficacy of each knot, while also introducing an unexpected element of intimacy. Your hands shook.
"You're demented. Completely, utterly, demented," his voice murmured, a frustrated undercurrent weaving through his words as his gaze bore into you.
"I'm in love.”
"Demented," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief at the apparent incongruity of your words and actions.
Insisting on your perspective, you countered, "Love! Love! Everything I do is for love, for you! Darling, why don't you see that?"
Your fingers clutched the ropes tightly, knuckles turning pale with the force of your grip. He winced.
“I never asked you for this! I didn’t ask for some demented half-wit to love me! I don’t want your love, I want to kill every one of those monkeys—which you are stopping me from doing!” he exclaimed, frustration boiling over.
“Oh, for God’s sake…” you sighed, rubbing your temples in exasperation.
“Don’t you dare act like for one single minute that you could understand my dream, my vision, let alone care about my happiness. You don’t give a shit about what I want, you just want me as your pet,” he accused, his eyes narrowing with resentment.
“No, that’s not true-” you began, attempting to defend yourself.
“You’ve never cared for me! You could’ve proven your devotion and joined my family, our cause, and you didn’t! You’ve festered in silence, and I hope you rot where you stand,” he ranted, anger fueling his words.
“I love you! You need someone to tell you that your idea of happiness is some dull illusion! You wonder why I didn’t join that cult of yours? Who the hell d’you think was keeping them alive all this time, while you played House? Me. Who bailed them out and took care of the Jujutsu authorities? Me. I love you, Suguru, God fucking knows that I do—but you can’t sit there and tell me that I didn’t care! That I’m not more devoted to you than them all combined!”
“If you cared, you would have joined us.”
An indignant laugh escaped you, your eyes ablaze with a wild and dangerous intensity in the flickering candlelight. “Joined? And be surrounded by those idiots who think they know a thing about you? Deluded enough to think that they’re doing you any favours, by leading you to certain death? Don’t you see, Suguru?”
“See? I know, I see—I know and see the truth and I lead my family past the lies! Behind every Jujutsu Higher-Up is a monkey that sinks their teeth in, blinding them with money and status and forcing their hands, convincing us that we should be serving the less evolved. I saved my family—I could still save you! Just let me go.”
You groaned, attempting to interject, but he pressed on.
“Everywhere you go, the lies are spread! Society is poisoned by the monkeys—even the air we breathe stinks of their foulness. Where is the hope for the children? The monkeys are organised—they spread their propaganda everywhere—that the strong owe the weak. That the weak should somehow be protected; rewarded for their inferiority. I can’t stand by and let every sorcerer be brainwashed into believing they should be protecting these—these animals!”
“Then where are they?” you said in an eerily calm voice.
"Everywhere. The monkeys, they-"
"Your family, Suguru. Where are they?"
In a moment charged with tension, you loomed over him, your gaze piercing the depths of his inky black eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, your touch took on a deceptive gentleness as you brushed some strands of hair away from his temple. The intimate contact of your fingertips against his flesh elicited a wince.
An affronted laugh escaped Suguru's lips. "They're in my heart."
You scoffed at his response. "Your heart? And is your heart gonna save you? Answer me this: how long d'you think you've been in this room?" you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of authority and curiosity.
Suguru set his jaw, narrowing his eyes at you, then sighed. Your fingers continued their exploration through his hair, lightly pressing against his scalp but firmly maintaining control.
"Where are they, Suguru? Why haven't they found you? Ah, no. No need to answer me there, darling, because I'll tell you the truth. You're alone in this world. You’re vulnerable."
"I have a family," he insisted.
In response, your temper flared, and your fingers tightened their grip on his hair, lifting and tugging upwards. Suguru gasped, pain flaring at his scalp and shooting down the lengths of his spine to the tips of his fingers. His body instinctively responded, straightening in an attempt to create slack and nullify the pain, but your hand persisted, maintaining its upward pull. His eyes scrunched shut, and he panted, a pained moan escaping as the physical manifestation of his isolation played out in the relentless grasp of your fingers.
“I know your heart, Suguru. I’ve seen it, held it, kissed it. I know what it wants. You’re just like me, y’know that? We both want the same thing. Understanding. Security. Acceptance. Love—unconditional love.”
“You can’t give me that,” he breathed out, glaring at you.
Your nails scraped against his scalp, wrenching him forward by the hair and letting him fall to the floor. His body, once held upright, yielded to the inexorable pull of gravity. It was a less-than-graceful collapse, like a marionette whose strings had been severed.
Time seemed to stretch as he tilted forward, a cascade of hair obscuring his face like a veil. The atmosphere thickened with the sound of his breath, measured and strained, the only audible acknowledgement of the impending impact. There was a profound thud, resonating through the room, as his face met the cool surface. The impact rippled through his body, a shockwave, and he lay there for a moment, motionless.
Slowly, reluctantly, he stirred and let out a loud, muffled groan.
You huffed out a laugh. “I’ve tried, Suguru, I really tried. I just… Sometimes, I wonder if you’re the same boy I fell in love with—who loved me—all those years ago in school.”
You smiled wryly, shaking your head as you lifted the arm of your non-dominant hand and traced your fingertips over the tattoo—’My one and only.’ The amateur ink work, done with a single needle and makeshift equipment, had aged poorly, leaving behind a blurred and uneven mess on the skin.
The black ink, once sharp and defined, had spread over the years, creating a smudged and faded appearance. The letters, originally intended to convey a message of permanence, now looked distorted and indistinct. The lines bled into each other, forming a jumbled mass of ink that barely resembled the original words.
Your gaze lingered on Suguru, bound and vulnerable on the floor. There was a dark satisfaction in the way he squirmed, his eyes hidden by his fallen hair, the tight binding of the rope that connected to his ankles. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you recalled the undeniable truth: he was worth every challenge, and the two of you were an unstoppable force when united. Bound by fate, by the stars.
A dreamy exhale escaped your lips, a mixture of contentment and desire. As your eyes traced the contours of his form, appreciating the sight before you, a thought crossed your mind. The imagery of him, bound and displayed, conjured the amusing image of a feast—like a meal expertly trussed with butcher's twine. A chuckle echoed through your thoughts, and you couldn't help but picture him with an apple in his mouth.
Ah, but all in good time. Gags could come later.
Your gaze, however, couldn't help but fixate on his arms, particularly his left forearm. It was a canvas that should have bore those words—’My one and only’—a distinctive mark that proved he was yours, that you were his. But in this vulnerable state, the ink was conspicuously absent.
An insidious flame flickered and danced with an unsettling intensity, gnawing at the edges of your better nature and searing hot on your skin.
Hot on your knife.
a/n: teehee love to a couple of moots who helped w/ this <3. this is my first time writing yandere or anything of this nature sooooooo. ya I hope it’s okie :3 P.S. this is not a moral guidebook!!!!! do not be like the reader insert!!!!!!!!
this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.
#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees#꒰ ☠︎︎ ꒱ — the serpent under't#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gn!reader#gn reader#gender neutral reader#getou suguru x yandere reader#getou suguru angst#geto x reader#geto x reader angst#suguru geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#yandere geto#jjk fluff#yandere geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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