#how to use ginger for long lasting in bed
Text
1 note
·
View note
Text
Springtime Fushiguros♪
Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.
Lullaby-: Megumi caught cold so you sing a lullaby to help him fall asleep. (Jealous gojo)
As much as you love the smell of freshly wet soil during rainy season; the sound of water droplets pouring down from the dusky clouds, kissing the earth; the croaking of the frogs— megumi hates it.
Due to the weather changing season and unfortunate circumstances, last day he came back from school, totally drenched in rainwater. Not to mention, his drenched hair, reminded you of his striking resemblance to his late father—toji fushiguro.
You have only seen him once, when shoko introduced his photo to you as the zenin guy born without any cursed energy; who killed riko amanai. And who almost killed your— nvm. You don't even wanna recall those days. It hurts too much.
Thankfully, gojo was out for a mission along with ijichi and he wasn't about to return till tomorrow morning. He would probably shout out loud, clinging up to you, asserting his precious megumi being possessed by toji.
As for now you've tucked him to bed, beside Tsumiki, after feeding him chicken and bok choy soup especially including ginger with mushrooms cuz that's how he likes it. It will help unblocking his sinuses, getting rid of his cold faster.
You exit the kids room, switching off the lights.
You were almost done with dishes, scrubbing off the rice bowl of tsumiki, humming a tune, close to your heart, which you have no idea where you picked up from, unaware of a tall shady figure approaching you.
All of a sudden you felt two arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer.
"Wh—" your squeak was cut off shortly, by a hand pressed to your mouth, "shh! baby...wouldn't want the kids to wake up." Satoru' velvet voice coaxed you to calm down. His warm breath fanned near your neck, as he slowly trailed kisses over there.
"You were supposed to come back tomo—" a gasped as gojo bit on the shell of your ear, "finished the mission fast," he said, "so I can spend the night with you", nibbling on your ear.
He pushes his pelvis forward, so it touches your lower back, slowly grinding on you as his hands roam on your body, trying to memorize every curve, remembering the bliss of having you close to him.
You figured out he teleported inside the apartment as the door was locked and gojo doesn't carries house keys with him since he would loose it somewhere.
"Satoru i haven't finished doing the dishes" you say as he presses kisses on you shoulder blade.
"We can finish that later. I need you." He says, removing the bowl from your hand, opening the tap to wash your hand. "Need you so bad." You could feel his voice longing with desire as he turns you around hastily.
You find your hands wrapped around his neck, his lips locked on yours, tongue slipping in. Every ounce of oxygen disappeared from your lungs as you were making out with him.
"Aachho"
Your eyes widened as you push satoru away hard, whipping your head to the side to see the door knob twisting.
Megumi comes out rubbing his nose looking for you.
"Megumi you need something?" You ask, trying to cool down your racing heart.
"I can't sleep." He walks up to you, dragging his blanket, practically mopping the floor.
"If you can't sleep then go to bed and count sheeps." Megumi gets startled at the voice, which he recognise as his sensei's.
"Why are you here?"
"Cuz it's my house."
"Weren't you supposed to come tomorrow? Why are you early?" The kid expresses his disappointment.
"And weren't you supposed to be asleep now? Why are you up disturbing my mome—" your sharp glare ceases gojo's further words.
"Then, how 'bout i sing a lullaby to you? It will help you fall asleep. Kk." You say, turning your head to Megumi, guiding him to your bedroom.
"Wait—so he's sleeping with us?" Gojo questions stopping you midway.
"Yeah. And yeah please finish the dishes before you join us. Let's go 'gumi." You vanish into your bedroom along with Megumi.
"Such a cock-block" he whispers, leaning on the counter, rolling up his sleeves before getting started with the dishes, beefing about him. " He gets to cuddle with my y/n more than I do. Damn it."
[ A few moments later ]
Gojo enters, as your soft humming echoes through the room.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
The moonlight catcher reflected several lights, twinkling around the room as you layed there along with Megumi, patting him to sleep.
How I wonder what you are!
He couldn't help but wonder; wonder what you are; how did he get so lucky? To have you behind his back.
Up above the world so high,
He needs you like one needs oxygen to breathe; he would search for you in every birth like river searches for sea. His eyes would be yearning, dying for one look of yours since you are the only world he has ever known.
Like a diamond in the sky.
You may have no idea, but the only star in his sky, whose shine would even fade diamonds is you.
Megumi's asleep. You sit up straight, looking at gojo, leaning at the door frame. You tilted your head, smiling apologetically.
Gojo sighs playfully, straighting up himself, walking past the bedroom door. A few secs later he brings in a sleeping tsumiki, cradled in his arms, laying her beside Megumi, tucking them into warm blankets as gojo joins in.
#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk megumi#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen x megumi fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo#megumi fushiguro#megumi x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo x you#satoru x you#satorugojo#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu gojo#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu satoru#satoru fluff#megumi fluff#springtime fushiguros
336 notes
·
View notes
Text
Short Days, Long Nights: 11
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, pregnancy symptoms, gun violence
a/n: An ENDLESS thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for having my back on gun lingo (me: American Citizenship=REVOKED) and for everything else. You're the best. ❤
Series Masterlist
--
“Are you just letting me win because I’m pregnant?”
His eyes lift to your face, unimpressed. “That’s not a thing.”
“Sure it is,” you reply. “Grateful for carrying your child, you’ve taken pity on me and now you’re letting me win.”
He starts a low chuckle halfway through your explanation, and you grin at him as you slide a piece of wood from the middle of the tower, resting it on the top. You on the couch and him on the floor, your hands rest lightly on the small but hard swell of your stomach as you watch him choose his piece.
“It always scares the shit out of me when it falls.” He says the words quietly, as if the volume of his voice alone could knock the tower over. Successfully sliding a piece from the bottom, he rests it on the top next to yours.
The baby kicks, a sudden, sharp movement that has your hand automatically soothing the skin there and his eyes flash up from the table, his brow knit with concern.
“You good?”
“Yea, I’m good. Just kicking again.”
He hums, watching you study the remaining pieces left.
Near the end, this is the fourth time in a row you’ve played this game and your back twinges a little when you lean forward. Using the tip of your finger, you nudge several pieces to get a feel for how loose they are.
“That’s cheating,” he protests.
“It is not.”
“It is. I told you that already. You just gotta pick one –”
“And I told you,” you tease, “that everyone plays it this way. You test the pieces and –”
“You’re not testin’ anything,” he insists, attempting to talk over you. “You’re compromising the structural integrity of the tower -“
“What?” you laugh. “What is this, another episode of Construction Corner with Joel Miller?”
He shakes his head with the curl of a smile, his hand reaching out to knock yours away and laughing again, you dodge it. His hand collides with the tower instead, knocking it over on the table between you, the pieces scattering everywhere.
“Joel!” you scold him, but he isn’t listening. Done with the game, he gets on all fours with a slight grunt, crawling around the perimeter of the table.
“M’fuckin’ knees,” he says under his breath, and you giggle, watching him come closer.
Pushing the table aside to get to you, he stops in front of your knees, and you automatically open your legs so he can fit his body between them, his large hands resting warm on the top of your thighs.
“You lost,” he says lowly, grinning when you break into open laughter before feigning outrage.
“Hang on, no I didn’t! You sabotaged me!”
“I would never,” he says with mock earnestness. “The mother of my own child? You think I would do that to you, honey?”
“You just did!”
You slide back to make room for him when he starts to crawl up to join you on the couch, reclining as your limbs shuffle together as he stretches out. He’s careful to rest himself on the side of you; one elbow propping him up while his other hand drifts down to the hem of your shirt. He plays with the worn fabric, lifting it slightly until he can see a peek of taut skin and then he’s smoothing it down, his hand lingering in place.
His pinky brushes along the waistband of your sweatpants, your thighs shifting to press together.
His eyes flick up to your face for a moment. “You need somethin’, honey?” he asks nonchalantly, his gaze back on his hand.
“You know I do.”
It’s been distracting, your need. Insatiable, now that you’re not sick anymore and you aren’t sure if it’s the flush of hormones swirling through your system, but you’re always so wet. So wet, and empty. A fact that he’s only too willing to take advantage of.
This morning, in your kneel by the bed as he eased himself into your mouth.
Last night, when you were blinded by the strength of your release as you came from his tongue alone.
The pleasure soaked haze of days before: a constant, needy ache blooming in your core, an almost desperate need for him, in whatever way he can give himself to you.
He hums low at your response, a rumble that drags out of his chest. The sound washes over you, your nipples tightening.
“Already want more, huh,” he asks, the tips of his fingers teasing beneath the band of your pants. “This mornin’ wasn’t enough?”
Planting your foot on the cushion, you push your hips upwards with a soft whine, and he chuckles.
“My girl is needy today.”
“Seems like every day,” you answer him, turning your face to press a kiss to his throat. You push the collar of his shirt to the side, tugging it down for more access to his firm skin, and finding it, you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and kiss him again, this time with an open mouth. His skin tastes like salt and sweat and him, and you moan lightly against the tan expanse, dragging your tongue over it.
His hand gently presses on your hip bone, keeping you on your back when you try to roll onto your side and you respond by wrapping your hand around the nape of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
“Please,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his mustache before you kiss him.
He wordlessly grants you your wish, his mouth opening yours as his hand slips underneath your cotton underwear, and when he cups your damp heat with a firm squeeze, he swallows the moan you let out into his mouth.
His fingers push through the soft hair that covers your cunt, brushing along the hollow dip of your entrance and gently parting you, he lets out his own groan at the wetness that greets him.
“I just fucked this pussy a couple of hours ago,” he says, his middle finger dipping inside you before sliding up to your sensitive clit. The pressure makes your hips jump towards his touch, and he smiles. “She already need me that bad again?”
You nod, your hand reaching down to join his. Threading your fingers together, you guide him where you need him most and he pulls back to watch your face as he sinks two fingers in down to the knuckle, an audible wet sound barely heard in the softly lit living room. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with practiced, sure strokes.
Maddeningly precise, firm circles, ones that stoke the fire building in your belly until the soft sounds you’re making turn into shameless moans, and your hips rock against the full pump of his fingers.
He curls them inside you, his thumb speeding up into a faster, firmer rub and you lift your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His mouth finds a peaked bud, his tongue swirling over your nipple before he draws it into his mouth and your back arches, your voice hoarse when you cry out.
“Keep going. Please keep going,” you chant, breathless and lost in a lust filled haze, chasing the high he’s built so expertly inside you.
His fingers speed up, his thumb never ceasing and pulling the taut peak of your breast into his mouth with a suck, you clench around his fingers and come with a cry; the need between your hips spilling over with a heady wave of relief.
His fingers are soaked and smeared with your slick when you help him work his belt buckle open, your fingers trembling as you reach in and find him hard and hot. The weight of his cock fills the palm of your hand, a sound breaking in the back of his throat when you pull him out of his pants and using his slick smeared hand, you hold his hip as he pumps himself with a rapid, firm hold, spilling slick ropes onto your stomach after a couple of strokes.
Your body boneless and sated, you roll lazily onto your side to face him.
“Hey now,” he scolds quietly, slightly breathless, tucking himself away. “You’re gonna get it all over the couch.”
“I don’t care.”
You don’t. Lord knows his spend is on the couch already for how many times he’s fucked you on it, but more than that, you don’t want to part from him to clean yourself off.
Sleepy, spent and perfectly content, you tuck your face into the hollow of his throat and inhale his warm, masculine scent. His heart thrums beneath your lips, your nose nuzzling the fragrant softness of his skin and your hand slides up underneath his shirt, seeking out more.
He’s so solid next to you, so broad. Barely fitting on the couch together, he lifts his arm to allow you to tuck yourself tight along him, and his beard catches on your lips when you tilt your face up to give him a kiss along the line of his jaw. A nibble, another small brush of your mouth and when you move down to give him another one over his shirt, you let your mouth rest against the beat of his heart.
Alive, strong, healthy.
Yours.
You take another deep inhale over the cotton, your eyes closing.
“You wanna take a nap?” you ask, so comfortable and content you’re already starting to drift. His responding laugh rumbles against your lips.
“Lazy bones,” he teases, no real conviction in the words. You nod, burying your face further into the safety of his chest, and he chuckles.
Your breathing already evening out, your body relaxes next to his and he gives in, finding a comfortable position to rest his head. He lets his chin rest on the crown of it, and tightening his hold on you so you don’t fall off the couch, closes his eyes.
–
The last dregs of summer slipping by with stagnant heat and a sweltering last gasp, autumn begins.
You swim while you can, obsessed with the thought of a child floating weightless inside you while you float weightless in the river. Water sluicing over your skin, you let the current lift you from the bottom, the small swell of your stomach a rounded island above the surface as the rest of you floats just underneath. Hours spent this way, it’s the only time you can get true relief from the growing pressure between your hips.
Your limbs weighted like lead upon getting out of the water, you try to explain it to Joel, who tries to explain it in terms of gravity and while it is clear he doesn’t really know what he’s talking about, you find joy in the obvious affection on his face every time you drag yourself up the bank.
Harvesting what you can from the garden without a means of preserving it, you base your methods on the gardening book turned into your personal Bible. The pages bent and marked in dozens of places, your cache is well stocked: the food you grew plus the food you found in other cabins alongside the meat Joel brought back from hunting, with an organized system of dried seeds for preservation next to it all. Everything in a cool, dark place tucked away in the pantry closet, you store everything that you can and cross your fingers for the rest.
The tiny bump between your hips is a marvel to the both of you. Some days it’s nearly forgotten: an afterthought hidden underneath your clothes as you work in the garden, clean the cabin, organize your supplies. Each week slightly bigger than the last, you slowly find yourself breaking free of the days of constant sleep and nausea and shifting into something that seems more normal.
The first day you notice a true, solid difference in your changing shape, Joel wakes to find you standing sideways in front of the mirror, studying your body. You watch his image reflect behind yours as he sits up, letting the quilts pool around his hips. His hair sleep mussed and flat on one side, you smile at his reflection and turn to face him.
“Crazy, right?” you ask tentatively, both awe and insecurity creeping into your tone.
He says nothing, his eyes locked on the bare swell and holding his hand out towards you, he guides you to stand between his legs.
Then, he just…touches. Broad sweeps of exploration across your stomach, his thumb stroking what should be a hollow above your hipbone but now is rounded outwards with life. He looks up at you in a silent plea for you to understand all the overwhelming things he is feeling and wordlessly, you do. His face has always been more expressive than he realizes. When he’s done, he rests his forehead against the plane of your chest and wraps his arms around you so tight you’re forced closer to him in his hold. You stay there for a while, dragging your nails through those dark, rumpled curls until your body curls over his, returning his embrace.
An estimated timeline drawn up on the back of an old calendar, the dates are truly a best guess based on when you left the QZ. Your life ruled by the slow changing of the seasons more than anything, it takes you a couple of hours to work out that it’s approximately late October and counting backwards, the baby should be born sometime in the spring.
One year here. A smile lifts the corner of your mouth as you think about how unsteady your footing felt with him when you arrived here versus the concept of birthing his child one year from that date.
Filling the neat squares out, you felt it only right to add other important dates: Thanksgiving, Christmas, your birthday.
“When’s your birthday?” you ask him, flipping through the limp pages to make sure you got everything.
“September 26th,” he replies, and you pause, looking up.
“Damn, baby. We missed it.”
He shrugs, busying himself with the tool kit in front of him.
The date tugs at your subconscious for a moment and then it dawns on you.
“Are you kidding me? Outbreak Day? That’s — Jesus, Joel.” You find yourself laughing, even though it isn’t really funny. A grim sort of laugh, devoid of humor. “That’s terrible luck.”
“Tell me about it,” he replies dryly, and before you can stop it, a laugh slips out. He looks up and smiles at you, the dimple in his cheek a deep indent and you mark it on the calendar all the same, shaking your head.
That night in bed though, you give him a long, tight hug.
“What’s this for?” he asks, murmuring the question into your hair.
Sorrow had been slowly building in you all day, thinking about that birthday. He had joked about it, but the more you thought about your initial reaction, the worse you felt. It weighed you down, the realization of how he probably woke up that day with a certain way of spending it in mind, only to have the world in ruin and his only child dead by the time the day ended.
His birthday now circled on the calendar, it was also the anniversary of her death. A visual reminder you weren’t sure he wanted.
You squeeze him tighter, burying your face into the soft crook of his neck. “Your birthday. M’sorry.”
His body resistant to your apology at first, his first instinct seems to be to pull back. “For missin’ it? You’re kidding me, right? We –”
The shake of your head stops him, and when you don’t let go, he eventually melts into your embrace. His arms tightening in their hold and in understanding, his voice soothes you.
“S’okay, honey. Don’t worry about it. It’s alright.”
–
You writhe on the sheets, the quilt twisted in your grip and a soft moan catches in the back of your throat when he licks your clit again, increasing the pressure. A damp sheen of sweat beads along your lower back, sticking to the cotton underneath you when you arch your hips into the heat of his mouth.
For weeks he’s indulged your need for him, his own growing along with it. The calendar flipped to November just this morning, there wasn’t much to be done today and so he relished in dragging you back to bed, intent on keeping you there for as long as he could.
He has. With slow, lingering kisses that grew in need until you straddled him with a weighted grind, with touches that bordered feral in their trembling hold as he grasped every inch of you that he could reach, and pulling two releases from you with those calloused hands alone, you felt limp and all used up, but he wouldn’t let you stay that way.
His tongue is insistent, yet patient. The movement of it practiced, yet maddeningly slow.
It feels good but it’s not enough.
“Don’t tease Joel. Please.”
“I’m not teasin’ honey. I want you to come like this. I know you can. You’re so –” he lets out a low groan, “- fucking sensitive, I want you to show me you can do it.”
The dark crown of his head fits in the space between your thighs, and his eyes look up at you, watching your expression of frustrated bliss. His tongue flicks over you, laving a firm, wide stripe from your entrance to the bundle of nerves and when he starts to firmly circle it with the tip of his tongue, you cry out.
The pressure between your hips from the baby centering all sensation between your legs to an impossible to ignore emptiness that you ache with constantly, the need amplifies into an all consuming sensation that quickly overtakes you – sometimes bordering on too much if he isn’t careful.
He’s taken it slow this afternoon; nothing but seemingly endless time on his hands while he ignores the strain underneath the fly of his jeans, and his tongue works you a little harder, a groan slipping from his throat into your spread, soaked cunt.
His hand splayed over your belly, it keeps you in place as you try to squirm away and a wave of saturated pleasure ripples through you, your body curling into itself. Any words you try to form slide into a breathless moan, your thighs starting to tremble against his ears, your fingers sliding through his hair.
“Fuck – fuck,” you keen, arousal building to an upbearable height while your feet plant on the bed to push your hips into his face. He gives your clit a direct kiss, drawing it into his mouth as he fills you suddenly with two thick fingers and you let out a sob.
“I’m – I’m–”
A sudden noise from outside makes him jerk back, alert.
It takes you a minute to catch up, submerged deep in the weighted waters of an impending release, but the expression on his face sobers you quickly.
“What –” you start to ask, but he gives you such a stern look that you immediately fall silent. It’s a look you haven’t seen in months, and adrenaline sends a shiver across your exposed skin, flooding quickly through your body. He slips his fingers from you, and you watch as he quickly rises from his knees.
He’s shirtless, the top button of his jeans undone with his small belly pushing against the waistband of his pants as he leans forward to grab his rifle from the corner of the room where he’s left it propped. His broad frame is rigid with tension, but outwardly calm: his face still yet hyper focused, his dark eyes narrowed as he listens. His chin still smeared and damp with your slick, you watch as he flicks the safety off and in a practiced, fluid motion, positions the gun with the butt tucked into his shoulder with a glistening finger poised near the trigger.
Near silent, he crouches and takes a step forward, shaking his head in a reprimand when you scoot forward on the bed to join him.
“Stay there,” he says quietly, but firmly.
“You can’t go out there alone,” you plead, your hands searching for your pants among the bedding.
“You ain’t comin’ with. Just stay put.” He jerks his chin at the corner of the room, at a small space between the dresser and the wall. “Get over there and hide. Don’t come out till’ I say so. You got it?”
“Joel,” you whisper fiercely, his back already facing you as he turns towards the door. “Joel!”
As soon as he rounds the corner into the hallway and disappears from sight, you stand and shove your legs into your pants, pulling them up into place. Wet and sticky between your thighs, you ignore the uncomfortable way the fabric clings and debate: stay or follow.
You hear something in the front room of the cabin, furniture scraping over the floor as it’s being pushed to the side and peering out from the bedroom, you see Joel trying to set up a vantage point. Half hidden behind a chair and the window frame, his eyes are trained on something outside, and a shift in your footing has him looking over at you, urgency and anger tightening his features.
“I said hide. Get back in the room,” he orders, a vein in his neck flexing. “I told you to stay in there.”
His attention snaps back to the window and then he’s standing up, finger near the trigger.
Someone is outside, a figure distorted by the windows, moving along the edge of the property. Not a clicker, telling by their cautious, deliberate steps - a human. A man, judging by the size.
After that, it all happens faster than you can process it.
Whipping the front door open, Joel has his gun trained on the man immediately.
“Stop!” Joel’s voice is loud and terrifying, your body flinching at the sound.
The sound of movement from outside and a low curse from Joel tells you that the order isn’t heeded, and you bite back a scream at the same time a shot rings out, splinters of wood exploding into the living room.
Another shot bursts through the air, shattering a pane of glass and crawling quickly on your hands and knees, you fit yourself behind the couch, shaking as you curl into a tight ball. You can see Joel from your spot, his bare back tightly locked into place as he tries to line up a good shot. Whoever it is must now be hiding behind the tree line, because you know Joel would have taken a shot by now if he had a clear one.
Instantly transformed into the Joel you knew before, you can’t tear your eyes away from how powerful he looks. Imposing and calmly confident, with a barely restrained rage in the tremble of his muscles, he’s terrifying. He doesn’t move, one eye closed as he keeps aim and when a corresponding two shots fire at him in rapid succession, he takes a deep, shaky breath in, not even flinching as they hit the door about a foot away from his head.
The closeness of the shots has you covering your mouth with your hands, panicking.
Your gun, your gun — where the fuck is your gun?
Your mind races through your mental map of the cabin, and remembering it’s in the kitchen, you run a visual path between the couch and where you need to be. You’d have to cross right in front of the open door, but it could be worth it for two guns against one.
Right?
Another shot rings out, this one piercing an instant, bright hole through the wall in the living room.
“Come on,” Joel growls to himself. “Come on.”
You flick your eyes over to the kitchen, willing your body to stop shaking as you get ready to move when one more shot rings out, and then Joel is suddenly standing tall from his position behind the chair, aiming and squeezing the trigger. The deafening bang makes you flinch and watching him reload, your knees automatically draw into your chest to protect yourself.
He moves to walk quickly outside, and you scramble again to follow.
His strides are longer than yours, but still cautious as his eyes scan the edge of the property. The silence around you is unsettling, and confirming there is no other immediate threat, he turns back towards you. When he comes closer, you take a step back at how furious he looks.
“What did I tell you?” He spits out the words between clenched teeth, one hand whipping out to tug you close. “I said to stay put. Why the hell did you follow me out there?”
Tears immediately fill your eyes, slipping down your cheeks in a warm rush as the tremors in your body start to get stronger. “What – who was that?”
“Are you okay?” He ignores your question, the intensity of his gaze raking over your features, dark and laced with worry. His hand comes to cradle your face, sweeping down over your collarbone, his knuckles dragging over your stomach. A tactile confirmation of your safety, not satisfied until he’s inspected it.
Nodding, peering over his shoulder at the treeline. “Was there only one of them?”
“I think so, but I gotta go check.”
Panic grips your body, your hand clamping around his wrist. “No. No you can’t. You –”
“I gotta, honey. If there was one, there’s probably more. You know that.”
You do. You’ve been on both sides enough to know the truth in his words, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the idea of him leaving.
His arm slips around your shoulders, turning you towards the cabin. His words are directed at you, but his eyes remain vigilant. “I’m just gonna walk the perimeter, make sure there isn’t anyone else.”
“But you just said there would be –”
“I know what I said,” he replies firmly, guiding you through the door. “I know.”
He faces you fully, his hand cupping your chin to keep your eyes on his. “You and I both know it’s better to get them before they get us. We can’t just sit and wait. I need you –” he pauses, giving you a look when you start to open your mouth. “I need you to get your gun, and then hide. Okay?”
“But –”
“No buts. Please, honey. Please.”
His expression brooks no room for argument, but it’s the softness around the corner of his eyes that has you nodding. Worry has seeped into his features, and if he’s worried, you know it can’t be good.
But you also trust him.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself while committing his face to your memory.
“Okay.”
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller/you#joel miller/reader#joel miller smut
877 notes
·
View notes
Note
I think requests are still open?
i feel like we've gone too long without talking about ajax. SO. IF U HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OF HIM TO SHARE - ANY AT ALL, LIKE, HOUSEHUSBAND, ACADEMY, HYBRID, STANDALONE - I'LL DEVOUR THEM EAGERLY. I'LL GET ON MY HANDS AND KNEES AND EAT WHATEVER YOU GIVE US. I am so desperate for a slice of that pathetic ginger loser <3
💍 househusband! ajax
you know what? i haven't done this for the househusband au! may ajax be the first!
sadly, ajax is actually a poser :(( he is not just your handsome malewife fully devoted to looking after the house and cooking you delicious food. he makes money (big money) on the side involved in some syndicate.
so be careful of the hands that feed you! they're drenched in blood and ajax isn't even the slightest bit guilty.
i like to think that his darling knows but just likes to feign ignorance. in a 'if i can't see it, it doesn't exist' because they do love their darling ajax a lot
he's less active than before he married you though, so don't worry!
your backyard's a bit wild because he doesn't actually know how to take care of it. morespoke's always been cold and snowy. the most greenery they had there was some wildberries here and there!
if he's out for a "appointment," he makes sure to come home before you do. of course, sometimes he really just can't make it, and it often leads to some amusing shenanigans.
"Shit, shit, shit," Ajax mutters as he rummages through his pocket to find his house keys. "I didn't cook dinner tonight! Oh fuck, they're going to starve and I just— Where are those fucking keys?!"
"Ajax?" He freezes. "Oh gosh, is that you? Hold on, I'll open it up for you!"
He hears your footsteps scurrying over to the door, his trembling eyes on the hand that finally had his keys. But those hands were bloodied, stained with the remains of the last man that he had slit his throat. And shit, he can hear you turning the doorknob when he's still scrambling to rub off the red specks on his cheek—
"Ajax, you were so late! Where were you? It's past nine, darling, you had me so—!"
You freeze. He freezes. The two of you watch each other with bated breath. The dried blood itches his cheek. Fuck, how was he gonna explain this to you? Oh, right, Snezhnayans like to hunt. But you're not in Snezhnaya! You were smack dab in a suburban neighborhood! Maybe he can slip in a drug to make you forget—
"Soooo worried!" Your face breaks out into a wide grin as you usher him back into the comfort of your home. "You could have at least texted me, you know? Oh! And don't worry about dinner. My boss gave me these coupons for a job well done and I bought take out and I thiiink you'll like them! They're not as good as you, but, well, nothing's really as good as you, you know?" You smile cheerfully at him, hooking his (bloodied) jacket beside the door and taking off his (again, bloodied) scarf. He stares dumbly at you. "... Ajax?"
He blinks a few times, before laughing loudly and giving you a loud kiss on your cheek. "Of course, nothing's good as me, babe. But we can always settle for second best for today."
You roll your eyes but giggle at his confidence. "You narcissist. C'mon, I'm hungry. Let's eat."
"I'll wash the dishes babe, you just wash up and wait for me in bed." He sends a disgustingly exaggerated kiss your way, to which you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue at. His fond face is the last you see before you slam the bathroom door shut.
A-ahh...
That was blood, wasn't it?! That was real, actual blood! On his cheek, on his hand, under his fingernails, on his jacket, on his scarf! You slide down the door and hide your head in your hands. That gut-wrenching smell of iron...
Well, actually! It could just be... oil! Right! You heard that some rust can turn engine oil into the red like that. He probably ran into a malfunction with his motorcycle and was on a rush to go back home that he forgot to clean himself up! That must be it!
"A– Ahahaha... Right! I'm so stupid!" You jump up and stare at your reflection— frantic, anxious, paranoid— and put on your most convincing smile. "It's just oil. You know how Ajax can get busy at sometimes! You're just overthinking!"
"Just overthinking..." You mutter, hopping into a cold shower. "Maybe I should take some pills before I go to sleep."
#yandere genshin impact#genshin impact#yandere x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin#yandere childe#yester.shorts#yester.au — academy 📓
253 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii silly ask anon back with another silly ask😓 (before i continue tysm for answering the last one i enjoyed it sm!!🫶🏻) how would yan!zhongli, pantalone (help me i love them) and childe react to darling going absolutely feral with rage anytime they are near😭?
like they’ll get home and be like “i’m home pookie💗” and reader will scream their head off crying and throwing stuff at them
this is so long sorry but could i be 🐚 anon?
ofc you can! the more anons the merrier :D also this is such an interesting thought because there are so many different ways for the yandere to reaction in a situation like this and it's certainly not talked about enough with the diverse types so i hope you enjoy :D
Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, force-feeding, mentions of being drugged, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!
Yandere!Zhongli would be well prepared, readying his shield before getting within arms reach of you. It really does come in handy for your more unruly days and he appreciates its usefulness. While he doesn’t want to see you enter the mindbroken or emotionally numb state, he’s worried that he might not have any other choice but to push you to that, lest you calm down otherwise.
“Fret not dear, it’s merely food. If you flip it over again I’m afraid I’ll have to go back to spoon feeding you.” Zhongli enters the room with a plated meal for you, setting it down at your feet. His shield was already activated, the faint glow from Geo illuminating the room as you glowered up at him. Your spot on the floor, chained down for your safety and his, was not ideal but for now it was practical. Mixed with the low lighting of the room and its generally chilly temperature, Zhongli hoped to create a strong feeling of isolation, one that would slowly drive you insane. If need be though, he had other options for breaking you, he just preferred this one. It was the most humane after all.
Yandere!Pantalone would only tolerate it for so long. He can replace all the furniture and decorations in his home with less easily broken replicas until you calm down. He can sleep in bed at night while you slept in a cage built into the walls of the closet. He could eat his meals alone while you starved in another room, too busy fretting about it being poisoned, that all he could tolerate. But the screaming was something else.
No one in Zapolyarny Palace heard your screams and wails, and those who did were ordered not to pay mind to it. It was a wasted effort that had Pantalone often sitting with his head in his hands, trying to find some sort of solution. He had run across a few temporary ones, a sleeping agent from Dottore for night time, sound proof walls in his office for business hours. But nothing could help him outside though hours, like at dinner time. You were kept in a separate room strictly for feeding due to the mess you often made, while Pantalone sat alone at the empty kitchen table. The home in general looked devoid of life outside the small inhabitant of Pantalone. This was because it was supposed to be your home, but you were often too busy throwing a hissy-fit to enjoy it and Pantalone was getting really sick of your behavior.
Yandere!Childe would take it as a challenge, playfully wrestling you to pin you down so he could feed you during the day. You could kick and scream and punch all you want, he’s taken worse and won’t stop until he’s physically unable to move. The screaming doesn’t bother him either, he just thinks you need more time to adjust is all.
Another day, another miserable feeding session. You were currently pinned underneath Childe, the ginger having pinned you to the floor with your hands held tightly to your chest as he slowly fed you bites of a sandwich. Any attempts to spit them out would be met with a pout, he had worked hard to make it for you ya know, and any attempts to not eat would be met with a quick pinch of your nose to force you to open your mouth. The worst part was possibly how normal Childe acted about the whole thing, chatting amicably to you about his day as he shoved bits of food down your throat. One time you had kept spitting food at him and in response he covered your mouth with his hand to prevent you from continuing the childish act. You had bit down as hard as you physically could on the male's palm just for him to not flinch and continue his silly little stories like nothing had happened. Being stuck with this guy was hopeless for you.
#genshin x reader#genshin x male reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x male reader#zhongli x reader#zhongli x male reader#yandere zhongli x reader#yandere zhongli x male reader#pantalone x reader#pantalone x male reader#yandere pantalone x reader#yandere pantalone x male reader#childe x reader#childe x male reader#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe x male reader#yandere genshin#yandere zhongli#yandere pantalone
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
High school sweet hearts
Pairing: high school nat x fem reader
summary: your parents are gone for the weekend, so your girlfriend comes over to celebrate your anniversary
warnings: smut, strap use (r receiving), cum eating, brief ass eating, heavy make out, insecurity, hickeys, cunnilingus,
You and Natasha have been together for a year now and you couldn't be happier. She was your first girlfriend and the one who made you realize you liked girls.
You and nat are kind of a "power couple" at your school. Nat had always been a popular person especially among the ladies and you were ecstatic when she asked you to be her girlfriend last year.
You loved every single part of your relationship with nat, especially what goes on behind closed doors. When you two first had sex with each other you were nervous, because it was your first time. Nat was more experienced, but it was okay because she ran you through everything and made you feel comfortable and secure. Ever since that first night, you broke out of your shell and aren't shy anymore when it comes to sex. You and nat have it as often as you can and since your anniversary is coming up this weekend, just in time for your parents and siblings to go out of town, you want to give Nat the night of her life.
The truth is you have always been kind of insecure when it comes to your relationship with nat, because of all the girls that want her and try to break you guys apart. You're scared that nat will leave you for someone prettier or better in bed than you, so you try your hardest to make sure all her needs are met. You know you shouldn't be worried, because every time you bring it up to nat she reassures you that she only wants you and all the other girls mean nothing to her. Plus she always whispers in your ear and says, "and baby you're the one I think about when I touch myself, you're the only one I get to fuck dumb and you have the prettiest and tastiest pussy I have ever had. Those girls have nothing on you."
Friday night came and your family had left you alone in the house. It was 5 pm and you were getting ready for nat to come and pick you up at 7 to take you on your anniversary date. The first thing you had to do was take a shower. After you showered you put on the white lacy lingerie set you had bought, well nat bought it you just picked it out for this occasion. You still had time to kill so you wanted to tease nat and send her a picture of what is to come tonight. You took a mirror picture of you in the lingerie and purposely showed off your breasts and ass.
You- (insert image attached) thought you might want to see the set you bought me, you know to make sure you got your money's worth. 😏💋
natty💋🥵🤎- that was the best money I have ever spent baby, you look so sexy like that and I can't wait to see you 😍🥵. How about you send me another one? 😏
You- sorry natty, but the rest you can see later
natty💋🥵🤎- I'm on my way, we can start our night earlier I just need to see you now
You weren't ready yet so you put your phone down and decided on a black, body con dress that was tight fitting and short so you could tease your girlfriend. You sprayed yourself in her favorite perfume of yours, you know its the one that makes her go feral so you sprayed extra just for good measure.
You grabbed your purse and went downstairs to the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of pineapple juice and sat on the couch scrolling through your phone while you await her arrival.
Not even five minutes later she rang the doorbell. You walked over and opened it and saw Natasha with a bouquet of flowers. She smiled at you and pulled you by the waist into a kiss. She was wearing a long sleeve black turtle neck shirt tucked into a black and white pair of gingham pants. Her ginger hair was in waves and she was wearing a silver chain and a necklace with your initials on it. Even though you were wearing heels she still towers over you, in a way that is so hot it makes you melt. She had her silver rings on her huge veiny hands and groped your ass while she was hugging you. "I missed you baby." She said in your ear as she started kissing up your neck.
"Natty, I missed you too", you said as you kissed her one more time and walked away to put the flowers in water. When you came back you found Natasha sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone and she smiled when she looked up at you. She pulled you into her lap and started passionately kissing you everywhere making you moan and whine while bucking your hips for friction. "Nat" you breathed out, "we should get going, we're gonna be late for dinner." You said while trying to get up but she tightened her grip on you.
"baby please, I want you to be my dinner." She pleaded as she continued kissing you while her hands were traveling south. You worked up all the self control in your body, because if you didn't get up now you would end up having sex on the couch and missing your reservation and spoiling your perfect night.
You got up much to her dismay and pulled her by the hand out to the car. She broke away from you and went to open the door of the passenger seat for you before closing it and walking over to her side and getting in. She started the car and made her way to the restaurant. You always thought nat looked so good when she drives. She had one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh moving up slowly getting dangerously close to your core.
That was all you really remembered of your anniversary date with your wonderful girlfriend. Of course the dinner was great and the movie she took you to after was even better, but the part you were most excited for didn't happen until she took you home.
You told her to pack an overnight bag, because you wanted her to stay with you while your parents were gone. When you guys entered the house you made your way up to your room. She wanted to shower, so you waited on the bed for her. You decided to take your dress off and lie on the bed in the lingerie, because you were eager for her to have you.
It felt like an eternity, but when she finally left the bathroom she gasped when she saw you on the bed. She was wearing just an oversized shirt and her panties and she could feel them getting wet. She walked to the bed hovered over you and started kissing you everywhere. She got to your lips and started kissing you rough and passionately. Her tongue explored your mouth and pulled whines and moans from you. You kept bucking your hips up seeking friction, so she put her thigh in between your legs to try and ease the ache. She started kissing down your neck leaving dark purple bruises. "I want everyone to see you're mine, so when all those girls come up and tease you you can show them these," she growled in your ear. She removed your bra and sucked your left nipple into her hot mouth. Once she littered your breast with marks she moved to the next one and did the same.
"Natty, your mouth is so good." You moaned at the feeling as you gripped your hands in her hair. She kissed down your stomach and kissed the wet spot on your panty-clad core. She looked at you asking for permission to take your panties off and you eagerly nodded. She slipped the panties off and licked a stripe through your folds. She sped up the pace and you bucked your hips up to match the pace while moaning and whining and panting. "Oh nat please, I need to come." You said as you gripped her hair even harder as she growled and let out a moan.
"Don't worry, detka. You can cum when your ready." Nat said before going at an animalistic pace and nipping and sucking at your clit. You came not even a second later and covered nat's face in your arousal. She licked her lips and smirked up at your, before making her way up your body,face to face. Once your breathing got back to normal, you licked your cum off of her cheeks and moaned at the taste of yourself. She pulled you into a kiss and you whined when she took your bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth. "You are the most gorgeous girl in the world, baby. I love you so much." She said to you with a peck on the lips before getting up and stripping her shirt and panties off leaving you both completely naked.
"I love you more, natty." You said while watching her open your bedside table and grab the strap she left there for times like this. She put the smaller end inside herself with a moan and secured the harness around her waist. She got back on the bed and straddled you while looking at you with lust blown eyes.
"That's not possible, but get it wet and ready for you detka." She commanded before you spit in your hand and raked it up and down the strap, jerking it off. You repeated doing that until the strap was dripping with your saliva. "How do you want my cock?" She asked while kissing and groping your breasts.
"I want you to pound into me from behind." You said looking up at her with doe eyes and biting your lip.
"Your so fucking sexy, baby. Get on your hands and knees!" She growled out while flipping you on your stomach harshly. You assumed the correct position and natasha gripped your ass cheeks before rubbing the tip of the strap through you folds. "You ready?" She asked while reaching up and groping your tits. You nodded your head furiously, "Words baby" she demanded.
"yess natty please fuck me" you got out with a gasp when you felt her roughly fill you up and grope you from behind. She started of slow until she got a good rhythm and started pounding into you at a fast pace. She gripped your thighs pulling you into her, while she was basically humping you. You were already sensitive from your previous orgasm, so you were close to cumming. "Nat, please I'm so close" and with that she started going at an animalistic pace, fucking into you so hard your whole body was bouncing, your tits were hitting your face, and the bed was banging into the wall. "I'm cumming!" You said as you squirted everywhere leaving the sheets a mess. Nat came too just a few seconds later. After you both came down from your highs nat pushed you down to lay on your stomach and began licking all the arousal and cum from your vagina and ass.
"Wouldn't want it to go to waste, baby" she looked up and licked her lips as you were panting and moaning like you were in heat. She got up and threw the strap in the shower to be washed later. "Come on baby time for you to clean up, your gonna be sore and sticky." She said while picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom.
"Shower with me please, natty." You said with a pout while not letting go of her.
"Baby, you know how much I want to, but I have to wash the sheets and get new ones, because of your little 'talent'" she said before kissing the pout off your lips and placing you down on the counter. 'But I promise when you get out we can cuddle and kiss in the fresh warm sheets while watching whatever movie you want." She kissed you one more time and walked towards the door. Before she left she said, "Don't forget to wash the strap." As she closed the door and walked out of the bathroom.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x fem reader#top natasha romanoff#black widow
447 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mended Relationships and the Future
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader
Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names)
Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written
Word Count: 3,783
A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?"
"That's not a can-do attitude."
Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted."
He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute."
You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you."
"After we go out to lunch."
"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open.
It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind.
He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened.
Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again).
Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders.
"How long have you been feeling like this?"
You shrug.
"How long?" He asks again.
"A few weeks."
Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-"
'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises."
"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?"
Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?"
"You have a few of the signs."
"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in.
"A while ago."
"So, you know?"
"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house."
"Oh, honey."
"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again).
"What do you mean?"
"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks.
"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since."
"He should know."
"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.”
"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now."
"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away."
"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?"
"Yeah."
The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this."
-
Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again.
It wouldn’t be the first time this week.
-
"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him.
You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please."
"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew."
"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please."
She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door.
You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness.
Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance.
Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you.
He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?"
No one responds.
"What fucking happened?"
Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all."
"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?"
-
You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours.
All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is.
You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you.
The door opens and you find Ted peaking in.
The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad.
He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened.
"Why is he here?"
He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side."
"How did he know?"
"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help."
"Isn't family only allowed in here?"
"Apparently you two are engaged."
You owlishly blink. "What?"
"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since."
The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?"
"I think so."
Jamie moves a little in his sleep.
"That's my cue to leave."
"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here."
Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up.
You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh.
"Sweetheart?"
You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad.
His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?"
You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?"
He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat.
"Jam-Jam?"
A sniffle fills the room.
"Jamie, look at me."
He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me."
"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt."
"No more, Jam-Jam?"
"I was going to tell you."
"What? After the birth?"
"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out."
“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?”
You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once.
He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears.
“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.”
He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue.
“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.”
“What do you mean?”
You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.”
“I made one.”
You tilt your head. “What was that?”
“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-”
“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?”
He nods, scratching his head.
“Come closer.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues.
“Come here.”
He scoots the chair closer.
“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?”
He nods.
You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?”
“No.”
“Do you want to be with me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to leave any time soon?”
“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.”
“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.”
“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?”
“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-”
“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?”
You shamefully shake your head.
He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.
“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?”
“Not so much- I mean, maybe?”
“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.”
“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?”
“Not in the least bit.”
“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.”
“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.”
“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles.
He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence.
You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say.
“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.”
Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.”
He shakes his head.
You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug.
It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you.
“No. You didn’t.”
You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?”
He nods, “’course I do.”
“Give me your hand.”
He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you.
You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?”
He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?”
“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.”
He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.”
“He?”
“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?”
“Have you met yourself?”
“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.”
You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.
Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.”
“Everyone?” You repeat.
The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.”
You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.”
“Hey, hey. Look at me.”
You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now.
“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.”
“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.”
“We can.”
“Atta girl.”
“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in.
“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment.
Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled.
“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?”
You smile, “I’m better now.”
“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?”
“Yes, coach!”
“And now I’m scared.”
“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out.
“Oh fuck.”
“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks.
“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.”
“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.”
“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.”
“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs.
“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend.
It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie.
“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.”
“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand.
“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.”
“What’s that?”
“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.”
“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?”
“No,” Ted shakes his head.
“Not at all, Beard.”
The door opens and heads turn.
“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.”
“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks.
“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud.
The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out.
And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do.
“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap.
“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.”
“I’m your dad.”
“We’re your dads,” Beard adds.
You glance over at Jamie.
He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.”
“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in.
You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see.
He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks.
“Jaim?”
He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again.
Ted smiles behind his phone.
“We should probably give them some time alone.”
“You think?” He asks.
Beard nods.
Ted sighs, “okie dokie.”
They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off.
You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long.
“I think we should name it Jamie.”
“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue.
“And we’re not naming them Jamie.”
“Why not? It’s a good name.”
“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?”
“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Was that everything?”
“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents).
He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles.
“Is there a card?”
“I hope so.”
Now you’re confused.
He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles.
“I’m lost.”
“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair.
“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.”
“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” he nods with a smile.
“And he let you?”
“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Yea- really?”
“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right.”
“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”
“My cockiness? What about yours?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”
“You lie.”
He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”
“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine.
“I’m not. I’m just being me.”
“Yeah, and that’s mean.”
He smiles and shakes his head.
You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.”
“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Girls can like boy things too.”
“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.”
“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.”
He groans, “please stop.”
“Never.”
You stiffle a yawn.
“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.”
“But I don’t want to.”
He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.”
“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.”
“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest.
As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch.
You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier.
“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.”
“Jam-Jam?”
“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. What were you doing?”
He shrugs.
You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”
#ted lasso#ted lasso imagine#ted lasso imagines#ted lasso fanfic#ted lasso fanfiction#jamie tartt#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt imagines#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt fanfic#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x fem reader#jamie tartt x fem!reader#jamie tartt x female reader#jamie tartt x you#crazyk-imagine
776 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔
Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3
Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D
-💞 anon
ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ The event
ʚїɞ word count: 1k
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way
ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3
Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.
You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.
"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~"
And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.
"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"
"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"
"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."
"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"
“I-”
You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“...”
“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”
You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-
“Honey.”
“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.
“*I love you but we need to get up*”
A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-
“No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”
You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.
4 hours.
4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.
“Chu?”
The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.
A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”
A quiet groan came from the man.
“Nuh-uh”
“Honey.”
“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.
“We need to get up-”
“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.
“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”
Is it even worth trying to argue?
“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”
“Chuuya!”
“Not changing my mind.”
No, absolutely not.
“I will change your damn mind when I-”
Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.
“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”
But you will always try to argue anyway.
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly.”
He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.
Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.
Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.
You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”
A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.
“You need to get up.”
“But I don’t wanna.”
A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.
“Sigma.”
One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”
“Sigma.”
“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?
“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”
“Why?”
“Look at your phone.”
“Okay?”
Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.
Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.
You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.
Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
#bsd x reader#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd#x reader#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya x y/n#chuuya x you#dazai x you#dazai x y/n#gender neautral reader#sigma x reader#sigma x you#sigma x y/n
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
Red Rings
Fic Title: Red Rings
Author Name: @honouraryweasley12
Selected Trope: Soulmates
Brief Summary: While recovering at Shell Cottage, Hermione discovers something that will change her relationship with Ron forever.
Word Count: 4831
Rating: T
Any Trigger Warnings: Mentions of torture
~~~
Her eyes opened slowly, as had been the case for the past week as they rested and recovered from their ordeal at Malfoy Manor. She could hear the seagulls in the distance, the faint sea-salted air wafting in through the barely cracked window. Hermione blinked a few times, waking up from her slumber and feeling strangely refreshed.
It was the first time she’d woken up without a pounding headache, which seemed to indicate progress. She was starting to feel like herself, after the torture she’d been subjected to. Her visible wounds had healed, the cuts from the blade and the glass from the chandelier criss-crossing her neck and skin with small scars. The tremors of pain and the muscle aches remained but had lessened in intensity.
Another sound got her attention, a soft wheezing of low snores. Noting that Luna’s bed was empty—her temporary roommate starting each day early so that she could ‘bask in the glow of the rising sun’—Hermione peered over the edge of the small bed and couldn’t help but smile. Ron was curled up on the floor in a tangle of blankets, his ginger hair sticking up haphazardly as he clutched his pillow.
After a long day of planning left her feeling weak, he’d insisted on staying the night, in case she needed anything. He’d been so sweet to her since he’d saved her from a certain grisly death at the hands of Greyback. His gentle care for her, and his patience during her recovery served to push away any lingering hurt around his abandonment.
As if on its own volition, her arm reached down and she gently brushed her fingers across his pale, freckled cheek. The same spot where Bellatrix had struck him, but that mark had mostly faded away, thankfully. The same spot where she’d once kissed him before a Quidditch match.
His nose twitched, and she had to stifle a giggle. Her eyes were suddenly drawn to a small line of red around her wrist. She frowned, as she hadn’t noticed it before. It looked like someone had circled her skin with a red pen.
Perhaps the ropes the Snatchers used had burned her skin, the injury just blending in with all her other scrapes and bruises from that horrid night. She shrugged it off as she watched his almost blonde eyelashes blink for a second, before she was met with the brilliant blue of his eyes.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Ron yawned and smiled at her. “You seem like you’re feeling better.” His hand reached up and caught hers, holding it against his cheek.
“I am, no headache this morning.”
His eyebrows raised. “Seriously, that’s great news. That means you’re getting better.”
Hermione nodded. “Thank you for staying last night.”
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, sending shivers through her whole body. “Of course, anything for you.”
The tips of his ears blazed red, but he didn’t look away. She knew he meant it. She could get lost in those eyes.
Ron broke them out of the spell. “Shall we go down for breakfast?”
“Yes, I’m famished.”
“Your appetite is returning, that’s another good sign.”
It was comforting and natural, so Hermione continued to hold his hand all the way down to breakfast. She snuck a quick look down and noticed that he had the same red mark around his wrist. Odd, but it did support her theory that it was the bonds they’d struggled against when they were captured.
They sat down at the crowded table and greeted the rest of the houseguests. Hermione tried to help Fleur, but the French woman instructed her to relax. She took a seat next to Ron, facing Harry.
“How are you feeling, Hermione?”
“Much better, thanks Harry.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Yes, I slept well.”
Harry turned to Ron. “What about you, did you sleep?”
Ron looked away and nodded slightly. Harry gave him a pointed look, and Ron returned it, his eyes wide. Harry looked at her again and then back to Ron, before shaking his head. She wasn’t sure what that exchange was about, but she was going to find out. It felt like they were hiding something from her.
It was a quiet breakfast between Bill, Fleur, Dean, Harry, Ron, and herself. Luna had eaten early and was down at the beach, while Griphook and Mr. Ollivander preferred to stay in their rooms. Hermione tried a few times to spy on Dean’s and Harry’s wrists; there was something strange about that scratch mark that was bothering her.
Ron leaned over halfway through the meal, his voice tickling her ear. “Everything alright?”
Hermione nodded, feeling silly. “Yes, just checking something.”
As Harry held up a bowl for Fleur to fill up with extra croissants, Hermione had a perfect vantage point, and Harry had no such mark. He must have used dittany to get rid of it already. As they finished and began clearing the table, Dean yawned and stretched. His wrists were also clear of any blemishes.
Harry pulled them both aside after they’d all pitched in to clean up the kitchen. He whispered to them in a low voice, his eyes darting about for anyone listening. “Let’s take a break from planning today. We made a lot of progress yesterday, and I know you were quite tired after, Hermione.”
Her face twisted into a look of indignation. “Harry, I’m fine. You don’t need to treat me like a child.”
His tone was hard, not taking her plea into account. “You need to recover for us to have any chance of pulling this off. It’s just one day.” He sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. “Rest up today, the both of you.”
Hermione started to argue but stopped when she saw the look on Ron’s face, his features looking far more exhausted than they had earlier. “Please, Hermione?”
She hadn’t even noticed they were holding hands again as he gave her a quick squeeze.
“Fine, we can clear our heads today and come back fresh tomorrow.”
Harry nodded, his eyes downcast, and made his way out of the small cottage for his daily visit to Dobby’s grave, leaving the two of them alone.
After a moment, Ron yawned again. “I think I might just take a quick kip on the sofa.”
Hermione nodded. “Before you go, come with me. I noticed that we both still have scratches that need mending.”
She led them back to the kitchen, which was now empty. She asked him to get the dittany while she got a towel and put it down on the table, before placing her wrist on it. As Ron sat down, she grabbed his hand and did the same.
“See?”
He examined the mark and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s kind of weird they’re the same. I noticed mine a few days ago, but I figured it would heal.”
She poured a couple of drops of dittany on his wrist, and nothing happened. “Odd, that should fix it.”
She tried the same on her own wrist, and just like his, nothing happened. “I don’t know why it isn’t working. I might need to research healing charms a bit further.”
“I’m sure it’s fine Hermione. Maybe the dittany has lost its potency or something. I think we should use this day off to get some rest, like Harry wanted.”
Ron cleaned up as she sat there, trying to puzzle out what these red lines around their wrists meant. It was strange, because under closer inspection, it didn’t look like a cut or a scratch. It was almost embedded in her skin, like a Muggle tattoo.
“You want to head up and rest for a bit?” Ron held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to help her up and walk her up the stairs. Though she’d argued with Harry, if she was honest, another day of just rest couldn’t hurt. Perhaps she’d take a quick bath later, but for now, she wanted to try and figure out the mystery of this red band.
Ron helped her into bed and tucked her in, gently kissing her forehead before he turned toward the door. She could see his ears aflame, and she smiled. “Get some rest, alright?”
“I will. You too, you look tired, and I’m sure the floor wasn’t comfortable.”
Ron shrugged. “Cushioning charm. If you need anything… anything at all, just call out, ok? I’ll leave the door open a bit so I can hear you.”
“Thanks, Ron.”
She watched as his lanky figure retreated down the hall and the stairs, before reaching under the bed to retrieve her beaded bag. She had somehow held onto it through her ordeal. She spent a few minutes digging inside to find some of the books was looking for. If this mark she and Ron shared was magical, as she was beginning to suspect, then surely she’d find an answer in her books. They’d never let her down before.
After two hours of research, she’d found nothing describing what she was seeing. What she wouldn’t give for access to the Hogwarts library right now! Her head was swimming with information, so she put the books away and lay back down, trying to work through everything that had happened over the past week.
She must have nodded off, because she woke up with a start an hour later, an idea in her head. Her door was open wider than she remembered, and she instinctively knew that Ron must have come up to check on her. It made her feel so cared for.
She pulled herself out of bed and quietly padded over to the stairs, unsure of where anyone else was. She went downstairs, only to find Ron asleep on the settee, though he seemed restless with a frown on his face. She hoped he would fall into a deeper sleep and get the rest he needed. No one else was around, having vacated the cramped cottage to take in the warm afternoon.
The idea that had struck her was simple. She realized that she was sharing the house with a wizard who had a vast amount of knowledge around magical lore. Luna had even mentioned everything she’d learned from Mr. Ollivander while they were held captive. Perhaps the old wandmaker might have seen something similar in his time, either in a book, or through the sheer volume of people he’d met in his lifetime.
She snuck up quietly, so as not to disturb Ron. She approached the door where Ollivander was staying and knocked quietly, hoping that he too wasn’t sleeping. He’d faced many months of brutal captivity and needed the recovery time more than she did.
“Come in,” a frail voice called out.
Hermione gently opened the door and poked her head in. “I was hoping I might trouble you for a moment.”
He squinted at her. “Of course, Miss Granger.”
She slipped in and closed the door silently behind her.
“Would you mind opening the curtains? I’ve missed the sun.”
She pulled open the pastel blue curtains, flooding the room with afternoon light.
“Ah, much better.”
She surveyed the older wizard. He certainly looked better than he had a couple of days prior, when he’d come down for a quick dinner. Some colour had returned to his face and his silvery eyes seemed sharper in the sunlight.
He beckoned Hermione to approach, so she pulled a worn wooden chair over and sat down next to his bed.
“What can I help you with?”
“I’ve noticed something strange, on both me and Ron, and I wanted to ask you if you’ve ever seen anything like it. I’m certain it’s something magical, but the books I have access to don’t seem to mention it.”
He sat up, intrigued. One of the traits that made him such a legendary wandmaker was his curious nature. He’d often had to research deep and ancient magical lore to improve the wands he was creating.
“You see, we both have this thin red mark around our wrists, but they don’t seem to be an injury, as dittany did nothing to them.”
She thrust out her arm to show him.
The older wizard examined the mark carefully, turning over her wrist to see the path all the way around. His eyes narrowed to slits. “Hmm… that’s interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed. You said that both yourself and Mr. Weasley have this mark?”
“Yes, just the two of us, no one else that I could see. I thought it might have been from the ropes that bound us, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. The mark also seems to be under the skin. We certainly didn’t have them until after we were captured.”
Ollivander nodded for a moment as he continued staring at her marked skin. “I believe I know what this is, but you may find the idea unbelievable.”
Hermione let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “What is it?”
“This is very old magic. Ancient, in fact.”
Hermione gasped and jerked her hand away. Everything she’d read about old magic was steeped in horrible, antiquated beliefs and traditions.
Ollivander let out a dry chuckle, perhaps his first laugh in ages. “Not to worry, my dear. Many misunderstand this type of magic. This, I believe, can be a good thing. Much like the magic Harry’s mother performed in sacrificing herself to save him when he was a baby.”
“But how?”
“Magic is extremely powerful, as you know. What can make it even more powerful is connection. Connection between us, as witches and wizards. Connection with the world around us. Connection to our wands, which help us to hone and amplify our magic. But in this case, I believe that connection leads to our very core—connection to our souls.”
Hermione nodded, not completely understanding. She allowed Ollivander to continue, as she formulated a thousand questions in her head.
“Do you believe in fate, Miss Granger?”
She frowned, not liking where this conversation was going.
“Judging by the look on your face, I believe you were going to say no. That is fine, you can have your beliefs. One of mine is that there are powerful forces at work, for good or for ill. I believe that through these forces, some people meet and create an important connection. Given what you’ve shown me, I believe that is true of yourself and Mr. Weasley.”
Hermione gasped. “Are you saying that Ron and I are… soulmates?”
“Not quite, it is far more complex than that. Soulmates imply a pre-destiny. What I believe is that you two share a deeper connection, one that’s been built over time. A connection you both chose to forge. From what I’ve seen, this mark is a rare thing. A physical manifestation of a soul bond.”
He paused for a moment, watching the disbelief on her face. He seemed to be thinking of a different way to approach this.
“Have you asked yourself why the Cruciatus Curse that you endured did not affect your mental state? Most people who endured what you did would have been driven to madness, especially by such a powerful and uniquely hateful witch as Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“I-I just thought I got lucky. That I did everything in that moment to keep focus and not lose myself to the pain.”
He looked at her shrewdly. “Did Mr. Weasley do anything to protect you, given this connection between the two of you?”
“He… he tried. He tried to take my place. He volunteered himself to take that torture for me, but Bellatrix didn’t allow it. She said he was next if I died under questioning.”
“Ah, so though he failed, he was still willing to sacrifice himself for you? In much the same way we’ve seen protective magic work before?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“You see, this is where I believe the soul bond came into existence. For it to happen, there would have to be a strong underlying foundation of connection already. Perhaps you love Mr. Weasley, or he loves you. I think you love each other for it to manifest in this way.”
“I’ve not heard of any of this happening before.”
“This is ancient magic. Even though he couldn’t protect you physically, I believe your souls bonded in that moment and he was able to protect your soul, your very being, through his love for you. The torture being inflicted on you was not on one, but rather split across two souls, and that protected you from experiencing the full power of the curse.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that he would have felt the same things I was when I was being tortured?”
“Very astute. Miss Lovegood told me you were extremely bright. He likely would have felt it in a different way—as you felt it in your body, he felt it in his soul to save you from having to. The despair he would have felt and his own screams, as I recall, reflected that. Like he was losing an important part of himself, which he was.”
Hermione nodded slowly, not even aware that her cheeks were wet with tears from Ron’s sacrifice.
“The soul bond itself can exist due to a deep connection, that is known, but it’s rarely tested in this way. What you went through, this attack on your very souls in such an extreme, violent way, is why I think the mark has shown itself. Your connection was stretched to its very limit, to its very breaking point had you not survived, and yet you overcame it. It’s miraculous, really.”
Hermione looked back down at her wrist, and was filled with warmth, and of love for Ron.
After a moment, Ollivander spoke again. “Are you going to tell him what we’ve talked about?”
Hermione nodded. “Yes, I owe it to him to tell him, and I want him to know I feel the same way about him.”
“Then I wish you luck.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. This means so much to me.”
“It is nothing, my dear. You and your friends have rescued me from a much darker fate, and for that I will be forever grateful.”
Hermione said her goodbyes as the wandmaker settled down to sleep before she shut the door and made her way back to her room. The conversation took a lot out of her, and she required her own rest, her hand around her wrist and thoughts of Ron playing in her head as she drifted off.
Her eyes opened to the late afternoon sun, and her Ron leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on his face.
“How long have you been up here?”
“Just a few minutes. I could hear your snores from downstairs,” he teased.
“Oh, shush!” She blushed, and he chuckled.
He pointed to the weird lumps under her blanket. “What are those?”
“Oh, just books. I was doing a bit of light research before sleeping.”
He gave her a knowing look. “Did you actually rest?”
“I did, I promise. Did you get some sleep?”
He nodded slightly but didn’t meet her eyes. “A bit.”
She sat up in bed, all the while staring at the bags under his eyes. “Do you want to take a walk with me, Ron? I could use some fresh air.”
He strode toward the bed and held out a hand to gently help her up. “Let’s go, I think everyone else is outside anyway.”
“Can we walk down to the beach? There’s something I need to discuss with you in private.”
“Did you find something out about these marks on our wrists?”
“I did, but we can talk about it later.”
With their hands connected, they made their way out of the small seaside cottage. They waved to their friends, before walking down the worn path to the sand below. The tides gently rippled against the shoreline, the air warming their skin. The weather was surprisingly lovely for March.
They walked slowly for a few minutes, their hands swinging freely between them. The breeze was making a mess of her overgrown curls, making her feel carefree for the first time in months.
Hermione could feel Ron’s eyes on her, most likely making sure she wasn’t overexerting herself. She met his glance and smiled, which he returned, seemingly relaxing.
They came across a large piece of driftwood that had likely been placed there as a place to sit. Hermione tugged Ron toward it, and they took a seat, staring out at the mesmerizing body of water.
Ron pushed his hair back from his forehead, before placing an arm behind her back, bracing her. “What did you want to discuss? Is it about these marks?”
“Yes and no.” Hermione glanced at him. “What was that exchange with Harry about this morning?”
“What exchange?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Ron. You know what I’m talking about.”
Ron shook his head in mock anger. “Bloody know-it-all.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She placed a hand on the denim of his thigh and gave it a quick squeeze. “Now, please tell me.”
He huffed but started speaking after a few seconds. “I haven’t been sleeping much. Every time I close my eyes, I hear your screams in my head—it’s like I’m right there in the cellar again, re-living the torture. The first couple of nights I woke up screaming, but we shielded your room from it so you could rest and recover.”
She looked closely at him through the tears forming in her eyes as he continued. “All I can picture is you, alone on the floor of that room, Bellatrix standing over you as you scream and writhe in pain. It’s like I can feel it in my gut. It takes me hours to fall into a restless sleep, and then I’m exhausted when I wake up.”
Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. “Oh, Ron. Is that why Harry was asking you about sleep this morning?”
“Yeah, he knows what I’ve been going through, but I swore him to secrecy. I didn’t want to tell you and worry you; I just wanted you to focus on getting better. Should have been me who got tortured, Merlin knows I deserved it.”
“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” She wiped her sleeve across the wetness running down her face. “I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if she’d have done that to you.”
“I couldn’t stand it either, I was out of my mind trying to get to you. I just can’t seem to get past it. That, and the guilt from abandoning you… and Harry. I’m just so… fucked up. The only thing making it better is being able to take care of you and seeing you recover. Of seeing you alive.”
She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arms around her as she lay her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They both craved the closeness.
She heard him sniffle a few times, and could feel his breathing slow down before she pulled away and met his eyes. “I think I might know what’s happening.”
He smirked slightly. “Course you do. Found it in one of your books, did you?”
“No, not this time. I had a chat with Mr. Ollivander.”
Ron’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? When?”
“While you were sleeping. But I-I’m a bit afraid of telling you what I learned, because of what it might mean.”
Ron’s voice was low. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I know, Ron. I trust you.”
Hermione pulled his arm into her lap and slowly traced the red circle around his wrist. “Mr. Ollivander had an interesting theory on what this is, and it relates to why you might be having trouble sleeping.”
He nodded, his breathing quickening from her tender touch, his eyes following the path of her fingertips.
“He told me about the deep connections that we can form through the power of magic, and he believes we have formed such a connection… between our very souls.”
Ron’s eyes widened as he stared at her. His voice croaked as he asked the question she hoped. “How?”
“It’s like when Harry’s mum sacrificed herself for him. First, there had to be a strong foundation already between us, one we’ve built deep within ourselves. In Harry’s case, it was the love of a mother for her son. In our case…”
She trailed off, her cheeks hot at the implication. Ron just nodded, his face pale despite the sunshine. “Go on.”
“He believes that when you volunteered to take my place at Malfoy Manor, to sacrifice yourself for me, that something like that happened again.” Hermione could feel tears forming again and spilling down her face, and her voice hitched, knowing there was no going back. “Except this time, since you physically couldn’t protect me, your… your soul bonded with mine and you still protected me, my very being. Because… because you love me.”
Hermione let out a sob and threw herself into his chest. His arms immediately encircled her as she cried against him, overwhelmed. He held onto her tightly, but she felt his whole body shaking, his own tears dripping and landing in her hair.
“Oh, Ron. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried, suddenly flooded with guilt at her previous actions toward him, this man that loved her with his very soul.
He sniffled loudly, before he whispered. “You don’t feel the same.”
“NO!” Her shout startled him as she pulled back and looked up at his red-rimmed eyes, her arms still at his sides as she shook her head vehemently. “I do feel the same, Ron, I do. I love you, too. The connection is so strong because we love each other.”
She hugged him tightly again, and it was like they were one. “I’m sorry because I treated you so terribly when you returned. I was just so heartbroken.”
“I deserved it, Hermione,” he whispered in her ear. “I never should have left; it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
“I forgive you, a thousand times over. I owe you my life, Ron.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, love.”
Her breath caught at the word. She looked up at him, and though she knew she looked terrible, he was gazing at her like she was the most precious, most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He tucked a curl behind her ear and cupped her chin in his hand.
“Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now, Hermione? I’m afraid that if I start, I’ll never be able to stop, and we have bigger things to worry about right now.”
She nodded tearfully. “You’re right. We have to save the bloody world first.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You swore! My soul’s already a bad influence on you.”
She grinned, her eyes roaming his face openly, taking in the wonderous sight of the man she loved. “The worst.” She moved out of the temptation of his embrace and sat next to him, dropping her head onto his shoulder.
He picked up her hand and kissed it, before examining her wrist.
“So, this mark is because of the soul bond?”
“It’s usually something you only feel. Ollivander thinks ours manifested physically because our bond was tested in such an intense way, and we still survived it. It’s why I wasn’t harmed mentally by the torture, and why you’re experiencing nightmares and pain. You need to heal from the torture you took on to protect me, just as much as I do.”
“Yeah, I think I do. I slept a bit better last night—even though I was on the floor, being close to you was comforting.”
“Good, you need to get your rest. You’ve been taking such care of me, but you need to focus on yourself, too.”
“I will, especially now that I know what’s happening. I’ll think good thoughts, like when you told me you loved me.”
He turned and swiftly kissed her on the forehead, which is all he dared to do for the moment. Standing up, he dusted the sand off his trousers and helped her up again.
“What do we tell Harry?”
“I don’t think we should tell him anything, Ron. He has enough soul-related matters to worry about. He needs to know we’re with him.”
“You’re right, as always. Since there won’t be any other opportunities, I want to say it properly. I love you, Hermione Granger.”
She beamed at him and wiped away another stray tear. “I love you, Ron Weasley.”
He knocked his shoulder into hers playfully. “If you ever get the urge to jump me and snog me senseless, feel free. You have my permission.”
She giggled and squeezed his hand as they walked back toward Shell Cottage. “One day, love.”
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Wanna Keep Calling Your Name (gojo x you)
summary: you check on megumi and yuuji before they begin their mission to find tengen and unseal the honored one.
wc: 1.8k
cw/tags: angst/comfort with hopeful ending, swearing, mentions of eating and food, just sad separated found family things
note: part 3/4 of my "i don't wanna live forever" little series. yeah writing this made me so sad i just wanna tell them it'll be okay and this shit hasn't even been ANIMATED yet
likes/reblogs/feedback is appreciated <3
In any other circumstance, he’d be pushing you away in exaggerated melodrama because of how tightly you’re constricting him. He’d gently wiggle from your grip, saying something about you embarrassing him or that he wasn’t a kid who needed hugs anymore. You’d frown a little bit, staring at him in disappointment until he huffed in surrender and squeezed you even tighter. After a few moments, Satoru would inevitably come over and create a “Megumi-sandwich,” wrapping his lanky arms around both of your bodies and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Sometimes, Yuuji would catch wind of the affection and race over, tackling all three of you to the ground until you were in one familial heap. Satoru would take your hands and help you off the floor just to pull you to his lips. Yuuji would coo fondly at the show of affection while Megumi made a gagging gesture with his finger. In any other circumstance, it would be a perfectly normal hug.
But, these were not normal circumstances.
Because they weren’t normal circumstances, you weren’t able to utter a word before Megumi’s arms were shakily wound around your body, hiding his face in your shoulder and trembling. You catch Yuuji’s ashamed gaze from inside Megumi’s dorm and reach out your hand, which he takes and pulls both you and Megs closer to him. As much as you like to remind yourself that they’re capable of holding their own as sorcerers, you couldn’t ignore the reality that the Shibuya incident was not something that seasoned sorcerers should have experienced, much less two teenagers. With Panda, Inumaki, and Nobara in grave condition and Nanami soulless in the morgue downstairs, you were truly the only family the two boys had left. You never allow your mind to drift to Satoru.
“Eat, Megs. Please.” You set the bowl of ginger chicken in front of him, his favorite ever since he was little. You silently thanked past you for putting frozen containers of ginger chicken and spaghetti in the teacher’s lounge freezer, which you picked up on your way to check on the boys. The picture in front of you was tragically familiar–Megumi on his bed with a bowl of ginger chicken and his stuffed wolf in his lap. You couldn’t guess the last time the two ate, but it must have been quite a long time from how quickly Yuuji scarfed down the first bowl of spaghetti. The second tub of spaghetti is still warm, thankfully, and you slide the bowl over to him in understanding. Megumi, on the other hand, simply stared off into space, the enticing steam of the food unable to pierce his broken exterior. “I’m gonna take the wolf back if you don’t eat.” His eyes are dark and dangerous when they flick up to you, the same look he gave you for the past however many years you’d been using that threat. Despite its age, you’re surprised to find that it still works as he finally takes a bite of food. “Thank you.”
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“This morning. I had breakfast with Shoko.” You also tried one of her cigarettes again and hated them just as much as the first time. She’d poured a few shots for you before work to make it up to you.
“Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast,” Megumi deadpans and your first impulse is to laugh. But, you can’t stop the memory that breaks loose and it slams into you like a freight train.
He was giving you that odd look again, something between the lines of skeptical and adoration. You stick your tongue out at him in defiance and his hand finds yours from the driver’s seat of the car. It was an early morning mission and you argued that you deserved a treat after dragging him out of bed. To Ijichi’s annoyance, Satoru stops at a grocery store, running in to grab you a muffin and scolding you for not having enough fuel for the day. He kissed you so fervently when he returned to the car, like you were going to disappear in his absence. He said he could taste the coffee on your lips and that you didn’t make it right; when you looked at him with an offended expression, he shrugged and said he made you the best coffee. You’d never admit it, but he was right.
“I-I had a muffin, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice still comes out as a choke and Megumi’s face falls guiltily. He knows exactly what his words had accidentally triggered. “I split it with Shoko.” You take his hand while he avoids your eyes, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles reassuringly. “Eat, Megs. It’s okay.”
“Did the higher-ups really confine you to the school?” Yuuji asks after he’s finished the second tub of spaghetti. “I heard…some things about you and it made me nervous.”
You hum in assent. “Well, I’m still alive. There’s no way I’d let them kill me before checking on you two.” The words are meant to be reassuring but aren't received that way as their heads both snap to look at you in alarm. “Yeah, no point in lying. We talked about it, before everything happened. I know he didn’t say anything about it because he didn’t want to worry you, but we discussed what would happen in his…absence.”
“Have they sent anyone yet?” Megumi’s voice is low and threatening but you knew the warning wasn’t directed toward you.
“No, but I also know they haven’t sent anyone after Yuuji either, right?” They nod but still eye you warily. You give them a weak smile in an attempt to ease their worries. “So, that means the brass is still such a shit-show that they can’t dispatch sorcerers to apprehend Satoru’s associates. We have time, but not a lot of it.”
“We have a plan. Or, at least, the beginnings of one. To get him back,” Yuuji says carefully, each word delicate like you were a grenade on the verge of exploding. Your walls go up immediately, shutting down to prevent the storm of emotions that welled up at the optimistic hope in his words. “We’re going to unseal him.” The sentence goes in one ear and out of the other; you can tell by their expressions that your eyes have gone empty and blank. It wasn’t anything against them. You just couldn’t handle thinking about him too much, lest you truly break down.
“Okay. Try your best.” Your smile is pained and forced, but you still nod in weak encouragement. Megumi’s eyebrows suddenly furrow in thought, like he’d remembered something important. “What is it, Megs?”
“Who is Toji?”
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru, Satoru please. Satoru, please look at me,” your voice cracks into broken cries while your hands frantically shake his shoulders, willing him to wake up. “Baby, I need you to look at me, please. Satoru, please, baby. Please, I can’t–” You can’t breathe. The words are getting caught in your throat and staying there. Every inhale tastes like blood and every exhale emphasizes your boyfriend’s lack of a pulse. “I can’t get to Suguru, Satoru. I can’t get to Suguru and he needs you. I need you. I need you, please. Please, wake up.” The tiniest bit of movement catches your eye and you stare in amazement at his hand, drenched in a pool of his own blood, twitching and violently blazing Cursed Energy. “There you are, baby. Come back to me.”
“He was a sorcerer from the Zenin clan. Why do you ask?”
“Was?” Megumi echoes, and it’s your turn to mirror his confused expression. “Like, he’s dead?”
“Yeah, he’s been dead for over a decade. Again, why do you ask?”
“There was a guy that Naobito called ‘Toji’ in Shibuya with us. He had no Cursed Energy but was stronger than the special-grades we were fighting.” Dread drops into your stomach like a dead weight. Fushiguro Toji coming back from the dead was the last fucking thing you needed.
“Is the man still alive?”
“No, and that’s what I’m curious about. He asked me what my last name was and then killed himself when I said ‘Fushiguro.’ He could have killed me, but he didn’t. I just want to know if I have any kind of connection to that man.”
“I see.” You felt guilty for lying to the boy’s face, but you also recognized that it was Satoru’s decision alone if he wanted to tell Megumi about his family history. “I’m not sure, then. I’m sorry.” He nods, face taut in suppressed disappointment and you rush to change the subject. You could feel time passing too quickly, the instinctual feeling that they had to keep moving hanging over your head. “I read about your fight with Awasaka in the report. Thank you for taking care of each other and taking care of yourselves.” You didn’t mean to strike a nerve, but your chest aches when they simultaneously dart their faces away, contorting in quiet agony.
“He killed thousands using my body,” Yuuji hisses, squeezing his eyes closed to shut out the memory. “I don’t deserve gratitude for my survival–”
“Stop. Don’t tell me that I can’t be grateful you survived,” you state firmly and you feel emotions start to well up in your eyes again for the first time in hours. All three of you have tears quietly streaming down your cheeks; you have no more energy for the hiccuping and gasping-type of sobs that wracked your body days earlier. “You’re alive to keep fighting, so please recognize that as important.”
“Would you ever marry me, Satoru?”
He looks at you like you’d just suggested cliff diving into sharp rocks. “Of course. Once all this shit is sorted out with Sukuna and I reform Jujutsu Society, we’ll have a rager wedding.”
You scoff in disbelief. “You want to have a rager wedding?”
“Was that not what you had in mind?”
“Mmm…no. I was thinking something small, you know, with Yuuji and Megs and Nanami and Shoko and the rest of your students. Save your strobe lights and fog machines for the bachelor party.” You both know damn well Nanami would never set foot in a club with Satoru, but it was still a funny image for the mind.
“You want to involve my students in our wedding?”
“I thought that was self-explanatory. You care about them, I care about you, so I automatically care about them. Whatever you would do for your students, I would too.”
“I’d pull down the planets for you, you know.”
“Just the planets? You must not love me that much tonight.” His eyes shine in the moonlight as he rubs his nose against yours. “Break up with me now and put me out of my misery.”
“You underestimate my abilities, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. I’d pull down every planet in the entire universe for you if you asked, not just the ones in this solar system.”
“There’s my sappy Satoru.”
“I’m yours forever.”
“Do your best, okay?” You say before Megumi and Yuuji leave to find Master Tengen, leaving you alone in Megumi’s dorm. Reaching over for his stuffed wolf, you summon a portal and store it in your domain for safe-keeping. You’d give it to him when you were all together again, your boys and your boyfriend.
I’m yours forever.
#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#gojo jjk#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo x y/n#jjk angst#jjk hurt/comfort
354 notes
·
View notes
Text
cruel to be kind - chapter three
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (90s college AU)
summary: it started with a dare. Bucky restlessly pursues Y/N, seeking just one date. as he chases her, he realizes she's different from she challenges him, so he starts to catch feelings. but it all falls apart when she learns about his initial motivations. based on 10 things I hate about you!
warnings: alcohol use, cursing
word count: 1k
series playlist
series masterlist
taglist sign up (for the people I'm currently tagging - please fill this out if you want me to continue tagging you!)
taglist: @caritobbg @tellmealovestory @mrs-bucky-barnes106 @charmedbysarge @theroyalmanatee @ozwriterchick @sebsgirl71479 @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @helluvapimp @blackwood-bodecker-housewife
Y/N woke up and let out a long groan. Her head was pounding and blurred visions from the night before slowly entered her brain. Then suddenly she realized she was parched. Water. She needed water. She crawled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Her water bottle was about halfway full when her roommate, Carol, entered the room, back from a morning run.
“Well you look like shit,” she said.
“Feel like shit,” Y/N added.
“What exactly did you get up to last night?” Carol stretched in the living room as Y/N chugged down her water.
“Went out with some asshole. It was a mistake.”
“Oh come on, he couldn’t have been that bad. He got you home.”
“He got me drunk, I made a fool of myself, and then he rejected me.”
“Oh you left out the part about maybe having a concussion.”
“Ugh…don’t remind me about that.” She drank more water and then the realization hit her “Wait, how…?”
Carol smirked, “The ‘asshole’ left this under my door,” she held up a small handwritten note, “Wanted me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay.”
Y/N had no response to that. She enjoyed her disdain for Bucky. She didn’t need to go around catching feelings just because he did something sweet. Y/N grumbled and retreated to her room as Carol watched her with a knowing look.
Bucky woke up the next morning and his first thought was about Y/N. He hated to admit it, but he was worried about her. And he knew he had his work cut out for him since he had bruised her ego the night before.
So he put himself together and headed to her apartment. He stopped to pick up a couple coffees, hoping to bribe her into liking him again.
He softly knocked in rhythm on her door and heard shuffling from the other side. He could almost sense her looking through the peephole eyeing him up.
“Go away,” she said firmly.
“I brought coffee,” he retorted.
“Oh, well in that case, leave the coffee and go away.”
“Come on Y/N…”
“I made myself perfectly clear. Leave.”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“Why do you care?”
He sighed and let out a chuckle, “Because I like you!”
There was a long pause before she said, “Well, I don’t like you.”
“That’s the best you could come up with? Damn, you must be really hung over.”
“I’m walking away from the door now,” she said.
He chuckled at her stubbornness, but respected her commitment. He scrawled a quick note on the coffee cup that read Call me once you’re feeling better with his phone number.
He sauntered off, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy. He started considering his next few moves.
He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t heard from her in a few days. In fact, he anticipated that. So he moved on to phase two.
He approached her front door and knocked, this time hiding from view of the peephole. He heard the lock switching and knew he was in. As soon as the door was open he barged in, taking Y/N by surprise.
Before she could say anything he started unloading the stocked grocery bag.
“I have everything you could possibly need. Gatorade, ginger ale, homemade chicken noodle soup, saltines, lemon ginger tea…” He pulled out each of the items as they were announced and placed them on her kitchen counter.
“Bucky…what the fuck?”
He looked at her with raised eyebrows encouraging her to continue.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Well you never called me. So you must still be very sick and I thought ‘Hm, if I were really sick, I’d want someone to come over and take care of me.’ So here I am with all the best remedies.”
She was so close to smiling but she kept her composure and responded. “I’m not sick you asshole. I just didn’t want to talk to you.”
“Now that cannot possibly be true. We had such a lovely time together on our date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Whatever you say sweetheart. Just remember I was the perfect gentleman. I picked you up, I walked you home, and I didn’t take advantage of you in your vulnerable state.” He hoped the last part of his statement would help her understand why he declined her advances that night.
“What a shame, I don’t remember any of it.”
“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it then. Oh, did I mention that you agreed to go out with me again?”
“Liar,” she joked.
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
She shook her head, “You can leave now.”
“If you insist,” he said. He didn’t move, hoping she would reconsider.
“I do,” she opened the front door wide and signaled for him to make his way through it.
“I have to say Y/N, you are really good at this whole hard to get thing.” He made his way through the door and turned to face her, shooting her his winning smile.
“Bye,” she said as she shut the door in his face.
“I’ll see you later!” he shouted through the door.
Bucky continued to pursue Y/N for the days that followed. He tried out a few different tactics but most of them involved buying her coffee or walking her to class. Her defenses came down a bit, but she still declined any date suggestions Bucky threw out there.
“What’s your endgame here?” she asked him at one point.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you doing all this?”
“Because I have never met a girl as interesting as you. And I want to spend time with you and get to know you better.”
She rolled her eyes, “I bet you tell all the girls that.”
“Not a chance.”
“Hate to break it to you but sweet talk doesn’t work on me.”
That was the moment he realized he needed to step things up so he began planning. His friends were constantly telling him to give up, that the dare wasn’t worth all this effort. But it wasn’t about that anymore. Bucky had never struggled when it came to women. Usually his tough exterior and ocean blue eyes were enough to do the trick. Y/N was so different from any other girl and the challenge was a great motivator. He wanted to know what made her tick.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#90s au#college au
159 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of July. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!
1) Louis' Wish / Harry's Daydream | Mature | 1987words
Louis and Harry are best friends.
Louis is in love with Harry.
Harry is in love with Louis.
Neither of them knows it.
What will happen if Harry catches Louis masturbating and screaming his name?
Come and find out
2) It Was Worth The Wait, I Think You Deserve A Taste | Explicit | 1945 words
Louis wants to be fucked but Harry has something else planned for him.
3) To Walk Out of My Life | Mature | 1981 words
This time it was Niall and his stupid group chats that had gotten them in this situation.
Harry and Louis have had a multitude of "one last times," they always end up the same, two men panting on the bed using their bodies to convey the words they'd never say.
4) A Messy Show | Explicit | 2,094 words
“Need you now, yeah. Bathroom?”
Harry reached into his pocket and shook his head. “Nah. Niall has a girl in there. And Ed’s with someone in our room. And-,”
“I get the picture,” Louis said, glaring up at Harry and palming his dick.
“You have room here,” Luke said, causing them to both snap their heads his way.
He gestured at the people lazying around their living room. “What? It’s your space. Besides, everyone is so high if anyone notices, they won’t care. Or they’ll find it hot and watch. Like me.”
Harry combed a hand down his face, and when Louis squeezed his dick, he made the decision for them both. “Sure. Lou, take off your pants.”
5) Can't Believe You | Explicit | 2096 words
Barricade has always been hot to watch. Seeing the fans grab and caress Louis as if they own him. But this barricade went a little too far.
“Ripping his entire fucking shirt,” Harry mumbles angrily to himself, bringing up the messages with a certain ginger.
6) Doctor | Mature | 2378 words
Harry and Louis are best friends that like each other but are too afraid to say anything. Harry is an ER doctor and one day Louis has to go to the ER because he couldn't pull out the sex toy that he was using to get off as he thought about Harry. What happens when Harry is his doctor? Maybe it will turn out better than Louis thought.
7) Except It Wasn’t | Explicit | 5469 words
It was a normal day, except that it was their five-year bonding anniversary.
It was a normal day, except that they were going to finally start trying for pups.
It was a normal day, except something awful happened to Louis.
It was a normal day, except it wasn’t.
8) On That Note | Explicit | 6237 words
Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building. But although they’ve never met face to face, the friendly notes sent between him and Harry in Purchasing help him get through the day.
9) Your Right Now, Your Forever, Your Last Call, Your Whatever | Mature | 6361 words
“We should kiss.” So they kiss.
10) It’s Only Sunny Cause The Planet’s Dying | Explicit | 13643 words
The man leans back in his chair and looks down at the tarot cards in front of him. “Wow, that was really impressive. How long did it take you to memorize all this bullshit?” He raises a brow and that challenging look is back on his face, but he’s not even bothering to mask it this time.
It makes Louis’ blood run cold. “I beg your pardon?”
The man chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “If you take a peek in my wallet that you just stole, you’ll see there’s a detective’s badge in there. Why don’t you come on down to the police station with me and you can explain your methods to me there?”
11) The Boy In The Café | Mature | 14624 words
Where Harry serves Louis his morning tea while writing him silly jokes and dropping his Number there too.
12) This Could Either Break My Heart, Or Bring It Back To Life | Not Rated | 18349 words
Harry never really cared for love: he has two children he needs to care for, and a Country to rule. Love is just not in his cards.
Enter Louis, who spins his children's lives but most importantly Harry's.
13) Blue Moon | General Audiances |20351 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
What happens when Louis moves away from the busy city life to a small village in the middle of nowhere and meets Harry, the sweetest and most understanding Alpha?
Will Harry be able to get Louis' walls down? Will he be able to adjust to the slower pace of life in the village and open up to Harry's love? As they navigate their new relationship, will they be able to overcome the obstacles from Louis’ past?
14) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23295 words
I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him.
“I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.”
Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?”
“The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
15) 'Cause I Want You (For The Worse And For The Better) | Not Rated | 26375 words
Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. That changes when Louis sees his ex, who turns out to be Anne's future husband's son. Now, Louis wants to prove that he's an omega that an alpha could want, and Harry wants to get through this weekend without letting his best friend figure out he's in love with him.
16) Deep Sea, Baby | Explicit | 28170 words
“Bunny, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
And just with that, Louis knew he wasn’t kidnapped or being pranked. He really was in his personal hell where the ex-love of his life still cared for him enough to make him breakfast, call him pet names and worry about him. And let’s not forget the part where his best friend apparently was no longer his friend.
“I’m…”
‘You’re what??’ He thought. He couldn’t tell his mother he didn’t have any idea how he went from having a nice apartment in Hampstead to wake up in a “Didn’t Know I was Fucking Married and had a Distasteful Taste in Sheets.” episode. She was just going to worry and think he just lost his marbles. No one would believe him—to be frank, he wouldn’t believe himself either.
17) The Property Girl | Explicit | 31428 words
"YOU'RE THE PROPERTY GIRL!"
Property what?!
18) Home Calls The Heart | Mature | 44091 words
A series of unfortunate events lands Louis Tomlinson in the heart of Texas.
After running from his life in London and a performative marriage, he leaves a scandal in his wake.
Home calls the heart, as his Nana always said. Though her words couldn't be truer when he decides to take up her offer to watch over Hyacinth ranch while she travels abroad.
He figured the worst he'd have to deal with would be the meddlesome goats, some repairs and an errant spirit or two. That is, until the gorgeous Cowboy next door makes his presence known.
19) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58849 words
“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said.
Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said.
“Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?”
Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant.
Alpha.
20) The Habit I Can't Break | Explicit | 63140 words
While searching for a healthy alternative to fill the void that one habit left, Louis gets hooked on something and someone totally different. This new experience pushes him way out of his comfort zone, making Louis realize he’s capable of so much more than he could’ve ever imagined.
21) King Of My Heart | Explicit | 83712 words
Harry shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Louis’. “I think since I was young, I craved that feeling, though. I didn’t always hate being a prince, but over time, certain aspects of it just bothered me so much. I remember being four years old and realizing that every person in the world knew my name, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. I told my mum as much and she tried telling me that being a prince is not a punishment. That it was a privilege that I should be happy about it, but no one asked me if I was. But looking up at the sky, I remember that all of this will one day mean nothing, and neither will I. All the pressure will then disappear and I could just be.”
Louis stayed quiet, allowing Harry the space to open up because he knew Harry wasn’t looking for advice, but just someone to confide in. What he wished he could tell him was that in the short amount of time that he’d known the prince, in Louis’ eyes, he couldn’t be insignificant if he tried. He was brighter than every star up there in the sky. He was all Louis could look at and think about.
22) Wind Beneath My Wings | Explicit | 93131 words
“You shouldn’t be here,” Harry gritted out, wild-eyed. “You should be scared of me.”
Louis opened his mouth to speak, to cut him off, to disagree, but Harry was pushing. “I could hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” Louis said, simple and assuredly. Calm.
“I’m capable of hurting you.”
“But you won’t. That’s not who you are, Harry. I trust you,” Louis whispered.
As an omega carer that works at a rescue and rehabilitation centre for feral alphas and omegas, Louis has experienced all sides of ferality. So Harry- a cold, near mute, non-receptive alpha- was a challenging case for everyone at Phoenix Rehab Centre. Louis wasn’t expecting to feel drawn towards an aloof Harry, or to form a slow bond with him. He certainly was not expecting for his entire life to change in unforeseen ways.
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Promise
severus snape x reader
712 words
Severus made his way down to your shared chambers that resides in the dungeons after the long and tedious day he endured, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening in the comfort of your embrace. But he was also peeved at the discovery of what he bore witness to earlier, or rather the lack of what he discovered. He knew only one other person who would betray him so profoundly and he was about to confront the little thief.
Turning the doorknob diligently, he crossed the threshold of the room and glanced up to find you cuddled up in his favorite armchair, reading one of those cliché romance novels you adored so much under the warmth of the soft quilt he gifted you last Christmas. Severus couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of you as you looked up from your book, a smile upon your face to match his own.
“Hello, my love. How was your day?” The sound of your voice broke his stupor and he was once reminded of his objective, his smile turning into the classic smirk he loved to use when he was plotting a certain demise.
“Oh, the same as usual. Those dunderheaded students of mine never cease to amaze me by the lack of their ambition to follow basic instructions.” Severus made his way to kneel in front of you, taking a hold of the forgotten tome that rested on your lap and placing it on the adjacent end table to hold your hands within his. “However, I did come across something earlier today that upset me a little.”
Your smile dropped at his words and he knew that you would worry over whatever was bothering him and want to help him make it right. Assuming that he had caught you by surprise, Severus’s smirk only grew wider at the look of confusion upon your facial features.
“I’m sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Indeed I do, my darling girl. But first…” Severus murmured before drifting closer towards you to capture your lips in a soft kiss, making you sigh at his affection.
His lips were cool to the touch by your connection, but they were always a welcome reminder of his love towards you. It wasn’t long before he tore himself away from you and began to kiss your cheeks and along your jaw, brushing away the few stray hairs that framed your face so he could reach the shell of your ear only to whisper:
“If you ever, ever eat my biscuits again, there will be severe consequences.”
Severus then leans back and he basks in the dawn of realization you were experiencing. Right there, that was all the satisfaction he needed and he caught you red-handed. But then you had the audacity to begin giggling at him as if to mock him for such a silly notion.
“Pray tell, my dear, but what is so amusing?” He found your reaction quite irksome, but then again, he started to chuckle along with you.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Sev. I didn’t mean to laugh in your face, I was sure it was something far more serious. But I confess, it was me who who ate the last of your biscuits. That’s why I made a fresh batch for you as an apology.” You pointed to where the small kitchenette was and sure enough, on top of the counter, lies a plate of warm cookies you had only just let out of the oven before Severus came back from his office.
“Would you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, Sev?” Reaching out to cup his face with your hands, you stroke at his cheek gently. Locking his gaze with your doe like eyes, Severus takes a hold of one of your wrists and places a ginger peck at your palm and returns your smile. He’s not actually upset with you, but he could never resist your eloquent charm.
“Hmm, I suppose I will. But only if you promise to join me in bed for the rest of the night.” He has you laughing again with his simple request, and who would you be to deny him?
“I promise.”
#alan rickman#harry potter#severus snape#severus snape x reader#severus x y/n#severus x reader#pro snape#pro severus#fluff#funny#legilimens library
295 notes
·
View notes
Note
No. 24 She's mean and she's mine for Fbi most wanted Remy. TIA
Companion piece to Sober (NSFW) - Remy realises you have issues with soberiety.
You don’t hide your addiction from Remy. You talk about it openly with him. He knows that you got hooked undercover, that you used coke and booze to cope. You’d been in a spiral for a couple of years before Jubal had forced you to confront the problem. By the time you’d met him you’d been sober for three years.
“I was a mean drunk Remy.” You’d told him as you made tea in his kitchen. “I burned through all my friends, my family. It took me a long time to make amends.”
He knows how isolated you’d become, how you’d pushed people away in the throes of your addiction. It made it easier to reconcile the drinking. He had kissed away the shame that crept up your cheeks, whispered the sweetest reassurances against your skin as he held you close.
“You’re bigger than your addiction.” He had reminded you. “You aren’t the same person you were back then.”
It’s true, Remy believes that with every single fibre of his being. The job you do, it may be high pressure but you know your triggers, you manage it well. Which is why he’s surprised when your brother sends him a 911 text to discuss his concerns about you.
“She’s drinking again.” Henry informs him as he sits across from Remy at the coffeeshop a few doors down from 26 Fed. “I saw her in a club a couple of days ago, she had a glass in her hand and she was with another guy. I’m sorry Remy but this is what it was like last time…”
Remy holds his hand up to silence the other man as he struggles to process the information. He admits he’s been busy over the past few weeks, Wyoming, Richmond, Bethesda but when he has been home he’s been attentive. He would know if something was going on with you. As for another man being on the scene, he doesn’t understand when you would even have the time, let alone the inclination. Remy’s pretty confident in his ability to keep you satisfied.
“What did he look like?” He asks Henry and the other man withdraws his phone from his jacket pocket.
“I took a picture.” He says before pushing the device towards Remy. “In case you needed proof.”
It’s a image of you and a man he knows well. You’re standing alongside each other at a bar. His hand is on your lower back, almost protectively. There’s a glass in your hand, a cocktail with a cherry sticking out of it. You’re wearing a cobalt blue dress, one that clings to your form. It’s that dress that makes everything click into place for Remy, that makes him take another at the glass in your hand.
“She’s not drinking again.” He says quietly before he zooms in on the glass and tilts the phone back towards Henry. “It’s a Shirley Temple, a non-alcoholic cocktail, it’s grenadine and ginger ale. It’s what she drinks when she’s on UC ops so that she blends in and that guy she’s with? His name is Omar Zidan, he’s her partner.”
Remy remembers that night well because he’d barely been able to keep his hands off you when you’d stepped out of the bedroom wearing dress. You’d been interrupted by OA’s arrival, the younger man had joked about having Cinderella back by midnight. When you’d slinked in at one am, you’d been sober as a judge and ready for a little play. He’d made love with you in the bed you shared until the sun came up.
“You don’t have to worry about her.” He reassures Henry. “Your sister, she’s solid.”
Love Remy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
@kmc1989 @whateversomethingbruh @skyesthebomb @@narcoticluke20 @@bubblesmaketheworldgoround-blog @luannysousa @ratcatcher2world @scorpio-1357 @
littleone65 @@ipromiseidk @secretsquirrelinc @atomic-art-dragon @keyweegirlie @readingislife @anime-weeb-4-life @yezzyyae @kj77 @xmjthewitchx @kieravanrenvie @yannekees @sca3a @ohhsheet-blog-blog @@mrsrusso11 @@mah2101 @too-strong-to-lose @@crazymads1 @jeje1414 @@amylou0456 @goldengypsy7 @@yv84452 @alannahhex @hopeonfire @@alixw22x @hearthockey @delightfull999 @evee87 @hellokitty71976 @@englishchic39 @gemstone-roses @satansfaviorite666 @glimmerglittergirl @foster-kirstyrose04 @sierravansoffthewalls @spookyboogyuniverse @sportslovers-world @thebeckyjolene @@kahlanm @86laura11 @rosaliedepp
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
would you ever consider translating sasara and rosho’s new duet? i’m sure it would be a real undertaking what with all the manzai, but i’ve always loved your style of localizing jokes! hope you’re having a great day!
You're very kind. Just for you, anon, I'll brave the horror of Dotsuhon lyrics translation.
Under a cut for length. This post is so long Tumblr won't save all of it, so it'll have to be done in two goes.
Notes about style: No attempt to preserve rhyme or rhythm. Likewise, no attempt to match the vocal tone/line delivery/line length of the voice actors. (Ie, I'm not writing subtitles, so it might sound odd if you try to listen to the song at the same time as reading this.) The primary focus is on written tone, including wordplay, so strict adherence to literal meaning is not observed. In particular, since this is supposed to sound like a (radio?) comedy sketch, I'm trying to write it with the generally jocular tone such a performance would have in English. Some notes on jokes to follow for those curious.
Sasara and Roshou: Hey, folks!
Sasara: You're listening to the one and only Dotsuitare Hompo from Osaka.
Roshou: Thanks for having us tonight!
Sasara: We're Sasara Nurude and...
Roshou: ...Roshou Tsutstujimori.
Sasara: We usually have a third guy with us, our older buddy Rei Amayado, but he wasn't able to make it for some reason or another. So, you're stuck with the two of us today.
Roshou: Sorry, sorry, and thanks again for having us.
Sasara: Anyway, things sure are tough out there these days, huh?
Roshou: You're telling me.
Sasara: So I'd like to get on the mic and say a couple of jokes, cheer folks up a little bit in this whole mess.
Roshou: You? You're the biggest mess there is. [1] But you're right. All anyone needs is a good, hot meal and a couple of laughs, and they're set.
Sasara: Yeah! A good, hot banquet or three and a personal comedian. All a person needs in life!
Roshou: A tad more expensive than I'd intended, but sure.
Sasara: And then if you get a good night's sleep with a warm futon riiiight on the floor, then you're in heaven!
Roshou: Wait, hold on. You'll catch a cold sleeping like that! You need a quilt or something at least.
Sasara: But then what if I overheat? I'd rather quilt while I'm in bed.
Roshou: ...Wait, you messed that up. It's supposed to be "quilt while I'm ah--" whatever, let's move on. [2]
[Chorus]
Sasara and Roshou: We'll keep our chins up and get through this bad time. And we'll set the whole city laughing until even Tsuutenkaku cracks up. [3]
Sasara: Don't worry, everybody. I know things are pretty turbulent right now, but it won't last forever. And hey, at least the state of the world right now is like okonomiyaki, and we all know how much I love that! [4]
Roshou: In what sense?
Sasara: It keeps getting flipped upside down! [5]
Roshou: Oh my god, Sasara. Well, at times like this, it never hurts to have seafood...
Sasara: I see food, I eat it!
Roshou: ...or anything fried...
Sasara: After all this chaos, I know I'm fried.
Roshou: ...not to mention smothered in sauce.
Sasara: You getting saucy with me, mister? [6] But now you're talking my language! And also, the other day I sewed a--wait, did someone say soda? [7]
Roshou: Yes, yes, we all know you love cream soda, but you don't need to bring it into every conversation!
Sasara: OK(nomiyaki), that's fair. [8]
Roshou: Same goes for okonomiyaki!
Sasara: Geez, Roshou, what's your problem? Work with me here; commit to the bit.
Roshou: Bit of what? [9]
Sasara: The routine! That's my motto: always commit to the bit.
Roshou: Well, maybe you'd finally get somewhere in life if you tried committing to the whole thing. [10]
Sasara: Hey, low blow. We don't all come with your level of ginger.
Roshou: No, but you know what does? Okonomiyaki! [11]
134 notes
·
View notes
Text
the start
August 12, 2021
Viola had just recently moved to Montreal and was living with Cole, she had gotten her sling off for her broken collar bone, but still had a cast for her broken elbow and wrist and a brace on her other wrist.
Viola been down quite a bit since the accident, she couldn’t swim or go in the lake during the summer, going on the boat was to much vibrating on her injury’s, she wasn’t allowed to do any type of workouts, she could barely do anything herself with both arms being injured so she spent most of the last two months in bed.
Viola stayed at home at her parents house for most of the summer barely going to her brothers lake house, she’s been in a funk and it seems like most of her sunshine self was gone after the accident.
Viola had unpacked most of her stuff the last week into Cole’s apartment and getting use to not living with her parents or Luke anymore.
Viola put on a pair of plaid shorts and a black t-shirt, she groaned as she tried to brush her hair, she slid her feet into her sandals and walked into the living room seeing Cole on the couch on his phone after his morning practice. She walked in and Cole looked up and felt his face soften seeing her frustrated face and the hair brush in her hand, Cole smiled and held out his hand for the brush.
Viola handed it to him and sat down in front of him, “Do you want anything or just down?” Cole asked as he brushed through her hair, Ellen had taught Cole how to do some hairstyles for Viola.
“Just down, please.” Viola mumbled.
Cole hummed and finished brushing it out,“There you go.” Cole told her once he was finished, “Are you ready to go?” Cole asked as today was the first time she was gonna meet her team and then go over the plans with her physical therapy that she is starting soon.
Viola nodded and set her brush on the table and headed to the front door. Cole and Viola walked to the car and got in. Viola doesn’t like driving or being in the car much anymore.
Cole drove them carefully to the rink and he parked in one of the front spots, “You ready Vi?” Cole asked looking at her. Viola nodded and got out of the car.
They walked into the rink and walked to the ice seeing the team practicing on the ice, the coach was on the bench and he smiled at Viola as he saw her.
Sylvain the coach walked over to Viola and Cole, “Hello Viola it’s good to see you again.” He gently shook her hand being mindful of her brace. They had met at the draft and he could tell the accident affected her mentally just as physically.
Viola looked at the ice as the whistle blew and the players were heading off the ice and down the hallway towards the locker room.
Viola titled her head seeing a very tall player but turned back to her new coach.
Maveric saw two people talking to coach and he walked over to them.
“Ah Maveric, This is Viola!” Sylvain introduced the two, Maveric smiled bright at her and Viola nodded slightly, “Viola will hopefully be joining us soon.”
“Well i can’t wait.” Maveric beamed at her, Maveric thought she was absolutely beautiful.
Cole looked at Maveric already suspiciously as he recognizing the look Maveric already had towards Viola.
“Come on Viola let’s show you the rehab rooms.” Sylvain put a hand on her shoulder and started to walk away, “Maveric would you like to join?” Sylvain asked thinking it would he good for Viola to start to get to know some of her team and Maveric is easy to love.
“I would love too!” Maveric beamed and started walking with the three. Viola titled her head slightly as she could hear the accent that Maveric had.
“So this is rehab room, we can usally help for every type of injury.” Sylvain led them into a large room filled with different types of equipments and everything you could think of to help an injury, “And this is Dr. Anna, she’s our lead physical therapist and will mostly be the one helping you.”
Dr Anna looked barely a day over 20, she had really long hair that was ginger and a cheerful personality, “Hello you must be Viola.” She smiled at her.
Viola nodded as she stayed close to Cole the whole time for comfort and reassurance. Dr. Anna led Viola and Cole into her office away from Maveric and Sylvain.
“When is she going to be starting?” Cole questioned taking his job as a guardian for Viola very seriously especially since Ellen and Jim couldn’t be here for everything. He wanted to make sure Viola is okay.
“It’s been how long exactly from your accident?” Dr. Anna questioned wanting to make sure everything on the papers she was given was correct.
“Ten week.” Viola answered shifting uncomfortable at the mention of her accident.
“So you have had you sling off for four weeks and your second cast for two weeks already?” Dr. Anna confirmed, knowing that Viola had a cast for her elbow and wrist for eight weeks and then got another one.
Viola nodded.
“Okay, we will start this week with your movement with your collarbone and your sprained wrist, luckily those two injuries are on the same side so it will be easier and when those are stronger and getting back to normal hopefully that’s about the time you need to get your cast removed and your elbow and wrist will get a brace and we will slowly start working on that arm as well.” Dr. Anna told both of them, “I’m not gonna lie to you Viola it’s gonna be a tough time and there is gonna be days where you feel absolutely miserable but if you want to play again you have to push through all of that.” Dr. Anna seriously and encouraged Viola.
Viola nodded, she knew it was gonna be a long road but it will be worth it if she can ever play again.
#violahughesau#vh5#maveric lamoureux x oc#maveric lamoureux#jack hughes#luke hughes#quinn hughes#cole caufield x oc#cole caufield#arizona coyotes#new jersey devils#vancouver canucks#jack hughes x oc#clayton keller#logan cooley#quinn hughes x oc#luke hughes x oc#trevor zegras x oc#trevor zegras#nhl x oc#nhl blurbs#nico hischier#nhl blurb#nhl au
33 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
maycongnghiepvegatec
Máy Công Nghiệp Vegatec
fic-junkie
Fic Junkie
voltronhoule
Tip Your Toes In The Galaxies
dumbnotstupidfuck
loser, schmoozer, dummy
foinacoyne
everyone's looking for somebody to love