#just need to clean up some of the language
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mind over matter pt. 1
synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.
tags: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, miscarriage, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk
a/n: y'all, im back after ghosting this page for way too lonh cuz im on my process of taking psychology. yep! this random bitch is up for being a psychologist despite her mental health place amidst the fluctuating status. and you know what's crazy? my sanity is slowly decomposing! all thanks to that one mf and one chapter in which im not going to name about (gege and jjk chapter 261)
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it all started when he started caring for you.
after being inside an arranged marriage for like five years, satoru was confident with himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is perfectly capable all by himself.
to say the least, the start of your marriage was a definition of an absolute disaster. clearly, you and satoru were like a magnet in the same pole, it can never collide despite how many efforts you push on both magnets.
from fights, misunderstanding, up to almost divorce after you caught him kissing another girl when you decided to give him a visit during his mission.
you were hurt, yes. but you would always tell yourself that neither of you want this marriage, so being hurt when there's no even love is called invalid. yet, you can't still help it but to feel somewhat jealous because he was supposed to be your husband—but oh well.
your family begged you to stay as it was for the peace of mind and safety of your clan. you snorted sarcastically as you wondered if they ever cared for your personal peace of mind and safety also.
nevertheless, you still stay inside this loveless marriage and maintain the gojo surname. you forgive him even though he's not explaining himself nor asking for your forgiveness.
as for satoru, he's aware that he's being a dick to you. his reason is that this marriage was his least priority as it was a hindrance for him. so basically and truth may hurt, he thinks you're only a hindrance and a distraction from the higher ups.
there were times where he would bury himself with work so he doesn't have to go to his original home and breathe the same air as you.
there were also times where he spent almost two months without seeing you or even communicating with you. it was like you didn't exist in his life nor he doesn't have a wife!
although, he is not that cruel to the point that he would slam the fact in your face. no, he's just leaving his presence until you feel it yourself that he doesn't want you.
his shenanigans would continue for almost a year until that night occurred.
that night when it was your wedding anniversary and he came home very late after fighting some annoying curse. he took a swearing underneath his breath when the stinky smell of curse blood hit his nose.
scrunching up as he was about to proceed to his own room (despite being married, you two sleep in a separate room) to clean up when he saw you up by the garden. you are currently watching how your little seedlings grow into beautiful flowers swaying along the air with a calm look on your face.
your husband broke the silence by asking you what are you doing this late. in which you replied that you couldn't sleep as you slowly looked at him.
satoru watched your face, it did not even flinch with any kind of emotion—nothing, just nothing. you're basically acting like a robot to him, and he hates it.
"i'll prepare a warm bath for you." you mumbled, standing on your feet and was about to leave when he grabbed your arm.
"i heard what happened earlier." satoru said slowly, as if he's being careful on his words which was very out of character for him.
"really? great." detaching from his hold, you left him no chance and instantly left.
"y/n." the man followed you until both of you reached the bathroom. you paid him no attention and just did the usual things you do, prepare him a bath.
"talk to me, please." his tone becomes soft, pleading. turning the water on, you refused to turn around, you refused to make physical contact with him, you refused to let him see the tears brimming in your eyes.
"go on. say what you want to say. i'm listening." you mentally curse yourself for almost stuttering. satoru looked at you, eyes finally unveiling an emotion. he aches to hold you for some reason but to think that he doesn't want to upset you even further, he stops. all he can do is watch you serve him.
"do you want to keep it?" he asked quietly, his ocean blue eyes dropping on your stomach. getting uncomfortable, you tried to hide it.
splash, splash, splash, you did not answer him.
"i said, do you want to keep it?" satoru asked once again. this time, his voice was a bit louder than before.
"i don't know. do you want to?" you asked him back the question, quietly.
your husband went quiet. having a child is not part of your plan but you have to because that's your purpose of marrying him, to bear an heir. now, satoru was asking you nicely if you want to keep it when in the first place, it should happen this way.
"how many months?"
"two."
"and you didn't tell me?"
"do you want to know?"
"of course i want to know. that's literally my child in there." he pointed to your belly with a slight frustration on his face.
you did not say anything back, just continuing your duties as his wife—wife on papers. satoru was growing upset, tired, even angry at you. where was the talkative and fierce look that you have? where's the harshness in your voice? why do you look so vulnerable now?
"you can take a bath now. i'll be downstairs to prepare you dinner."
"y/n, wait—"
*slam*
before satoru could even stop you, you already left, leaving him in all silence. the husband heaves a deep sigh within him as he recollects the events prior to this day. he remembers how he acted when he discovered to ijichi that you went to the hospital and went back home with a pregnancy result in your pocket.
satoru remembers almost getting killed by the special curse when the news caught him totally off guard. you two only have intercourse when both are drunk after coming home from shoko's birthday and that's it. you also told him that you were on pills so he's relieved. but how?
what if—
no, no, no. you wouldn't. you wouldn't do that to him. you are his little loyal wife and even though both of you aren't on good terms, he trusted your loyalty…or was he? were you?
everything was so messed up that he couldn't think of anything even after taking a shower and now he's on his way downstairs to eat dinner. once he was in the kitchen, he saw you almost absentmindedly cutting the vegetables.
satoru took a seat, quietly. he was watching you as your back was facing him. his six eyes weren't dumb to notice how much weight you are slowly losing. unconsciously, satoru was clutching his fists tightly.
"i bought you your favorite milk tea. it's in the fridge, you can drink it later." your voice seemingly dropped him from his daze. satoru looked at you once more, only to find out that you're still not facing him back.
"o…okay, thanks."
minutes later, you place a plate of curry in front of him. satoru noticed that there's only one plate on the table, which was his.
"where's your meal?"
"i already ate." oh right, it was literally midnight now. you should be asleep by now, yet here you are, serving your husband. also, why does it seem like satoru was hoping to eat dinner with you? it is unusual, to be honest.
for your five years of marriage, you two would only eat together for formal matters. but with a simple domestic setting like this, there's no way a peace would occur if the two of you shared a table and a meal.
while he is eating, satoru watches you grab the said milk tea from the fridge and place it in front of him. "just leave the dishes on the sink. i'll wash them later." and with that, you left the dining room.
the food was great, it was very delicious. satoru can't deny that you're great at cooking, and you really have a specialty when it comes to curry like this. but why does this meal taste bitter? perhaps, was it because of the taste of his conscience? he doesn't know.
the six eyes ate in silence. he was planning to talk to you later about everything. but anyway, satoru has been eyeing the milk tea you bought for him. now this wasn't unusual. everytime you would go out, you would always buy him some of his favorites, mostly food.
like there's a time where you bought him his favorite mochi, crepe cakes, churros, ice creams—basically every dessert or food stalls you happened to pass by. it warms his heart, though. there's also a time where he anticipated what kind of sweet delicacy you would give him next.
anyway, satoru finished eating his meal. he was drinking the milk tea you gave to him while searching for you. he saw you sitting on the same spot when he first saw you this evening, by the patio of your garden. silently, satoru took a seat beside you with a mindful distance between you two.
"can we talk?" he started. in which you reply with a soft hum. satoru finds himself gulping, he sets aside his drink first before mimicking your posture—wrapping his arms on his folded legs.
"so um, since there's a baby now…i'd like to discuss this matter with you, properly. i was thinking about…moving you in one of the jujustu high's dorms." satoru nibbles the straw of the sugary drink, absentmindedly.
"it's for safety measures, since i'm not always at home and the risk will be doubled by now. but if you're inside the campus, a lot of sorcerers would be able to protect you." he added.
"okay." you did not even question him or even argue with him, you just simply agree without a second thought.
the man could feel himself gulping, the bitterness increasing despite the sweet liquid he was drinking. he's starting to get uncomfortable the way you are currently acting.
also, come to think of it, you agreed to temporarily live in jujustu high—does that mean you are keeping the baby? satoru couldn't help but to finally ask you.
"d…does that mean—"
"the baby has nothing to do with us. i'm not that cruel to take its life." before satoru could beat you, you already beat him.
"when will i be moving out?"
satoru gulped the growing rare anxiousness down to his throat. "probably next week. give me some time to deliver this news to the higher ups." you just mumbled an okay as your response.
"y/n, are you really sure about this?" the man couldn't really pinpoint your decision. although you made it explicit, he still couldn't comprehend you.
"i'm okay with anything. it's just you who didn't. also, if you are planning to ask me about keeping the child once again, go ask yourself instead. your decision is my decision." you replied.
satoru made a mental note that your voice sounds more tired than before. it kinda ignited something that he was not used to feeling before as literally a man-god himself who's full of pride.
"i'll be resting now. have a good night." he did not stop you, in fact, he thinks it's for the better. satoru could only follow you by his gaze as you enter your own room.
yes, your own room. the two of you did not share the same room. you two couldn't even bear to eat together, what more on sleeping together. this is not what satoru meant when he asked you to talk. but oh well, guess he should also call this a night. with that, satoru retreated to his own room and slept.
fast forward, you moved to jujutsu high and started teaching as a history teacher in a world full of related curses(suggested by satoru) since you're an alumni at this school like your husband. you like that idea too since it's a great way to distract yourself from everything.
currently, you are watching your third year students train themselves along with the second years and the first years. it was quite a good sight since all of them have a nice and strong potential as a sorcerer.
suddenly, one of your husband's students came to you with a big smile on his face. that must be yuuji, the vessel for the infamous king of curses. you always adored him, he's a good kid. but you couldn't help but to be saddened by the fact that he was literally carrying a big burden over his life.
"y/n sensei, good afternoon!" he waved at you before taking a seat nearby you. behind him, you saw his two other friends—your husband's students too.
"oi, you're being too loud." megumi scolded his friend. he was worried that yuuji's loudness was too much for your situation, your pregnancy.
"it's fine, megumi." you just chuckled. "i have some extra chocolate bars here, you three can have it." the trio thanked you happily, while you just smiled in return.
"by the way, we have a question for you, y/n sensei." yuuji said, munching on the chocolate. you asked him to shoot the question but he suddenly hesitated, looking at his two friends for support.
when he received the support he needed, he took a deep breath. "y/n sensei, we were wondering about your husband a-and…" yuuji trailed off. you already know what he meant, so you didn't wait for him any further.
"oh, i suppose you are curious because you haven't seen my husband even though i technically lived here?" the smile still lingers on your face as you watch them nod their heads.
there's something that you forgot to mention to them, they don't know that their teacher is your husband and the father of your child. you were prepared for a situation like this, though.
megumi on the other hand, could've known this beforehand since satoru took care of him during his childhood. then your marriage came through and your husband was already taking care of megumi, but it was kept a secret to everyone—including him.
stroking your six months belly, a recent hobby of yours when you want to seek some comfort. "he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower me with love by making sure that we still communicate despite his busy schedule."
"lately, we've barely talked. yet, he promised me that he will finish all of his jobs and tasks before going home to me. probably that's when our child is about to be born." you sigh just to justify this facade.
the students seem to believe your story. although you're quite worried that they might tell this to gojo and your cover will be blown. you planned to talk about this to him, anyway.
"that must've been hard, y/n sensei." nobara mumbles out of sympathy. she was worried for you and your child due to the absence of your husband.
if only they knew that your experience was much harder.
"you could always come to us, y/n sensei. we will not hesitate to help you and your child." beaming brightly as the other two agreed, you really adore yuuji. the amount of softness he gave to you is something that your future child would like to possess.
"thank you, you three. now, you all better go back to training. i will be heading to shoko since i promised to visit her." watching as the three wave their good-byes to you, you couldn't help but to feel an urge to protect them at all cost. probably due to your maternal instinct but whatever, you just hoped they would stay safe.
another fast forward, you are on your way towards shoko's office to spend your free time. knocking softly on her wooden door, shoko opens the door with a smile on her face.
"how's my little mama doing?" she engulfed you with a hug, which you returned warmly.
"good. the morning sickness did not attack me today, thank goodness." you said as you took a seat on her sofa.
shoko also commented that she was happy too. as mentioned before, stroking your six month old baby bump is a must on a daily basis. you are now used with a thought and feeling of a growing child inside you.
"and how're you and dickhead gojo?" shoko changes the topic.
"we were just fine like i have said before."
your friend heave the deepest sigh you've ever known. "just fine? y/n, do you want me to say the like i have said before too?"
"sho, ever since we knew that we're having a baby, we really tried our best to be compatible with each other. but we just couldn't." it's true, on the exact tomorrow of that eventful night wherein gojo discovers your pregnancy, he tried to make it up to you by lessening the sparkling arguments, making sure you are well feeded, and even showering you with things your eyes would have landed on.
you are delighted, of course. even though he absolutely fails his duty as your husband, at least he's trying his best to be a good father for your child. you appreciate him for that and also start to open your heart and pour a little more trust to him.
however, you are not dumb to notice the faint smell of a female's perfume and lipstick stain on his neck whenever he's with you. your heart slowly closes once again and your little more trust shatters.
once you saw yourself crying silently—feeling betrayed and angry for yourself on trusting him shortly after that. guess old habits never die, you are crying about something you've already expected. self-blaming is an understatement for letting your guard absolutely down.
gojo's still a jerk even though you had his baby. i should've expected this. having a baby doesn't mean he's going to change for me.
"we both tried, sho—we both tried. but we just couldn't." your voice dropped its tone once more. you still felt bitter even if it happened way back like two months ago.
"or he just couldn't." she snorted sarcastically.
you both knew she's right, gojo just couldn't. for years of being married, you unfortunately learned how to love a man like him who doesn't even give a one shit about you. tragic. very fucking tragic. if only you could see yourself directly, you would laugh at her nonstop.
"maybe this marriage is meant to be loveless—"
*slam!*
"yo shoko, i need—oh…" the door suddenly bursts open as it reveals your hot issue for today and probably for the rest, your husband gojo. you could tell that he was also surprised (but he shouldn't be) to see you here in shoko's infirmary.
"learn to fucking knock, gojo." shoko hissed at the white haired male.
"oh sorry. am i interrupting something?" he asked, looking at everything but you. he refused to spare you even a small glance, which you kinda do the same.
"you're not. now what do you need?" shoko was the one who answered him.
before gojo could even open his mouth , you already excused yourself. "i'll be taking my leave now. thanks for the check up, shoko." and then you left, leaving shoko and gojo with an awkward silence.
"aren't you going to talk about your business or maybe you want me to kick you out?" shoko sarcastically made a comment.
"right…" satoru cleared up his throat. for some reason, he doesn't know why he's suddenly getting iffy.
"ho…how's the child doing?"
"you have to be fucking kidding me." shoko groaned loudly. somehow, she expected this, but she couldn't believe that she would actually encounter this.
"y/n was just right there moments ago and you didn't even bother to ask her that yourself?!" the doctor could feel herself getting really annoyed. the truth may hurt but she's getting annoyed by the two of you.
fight here, ignore there—ignore there, fight here.
"bet she told you that we're not on good terms even though we really tried to work it out. yet, you're seemingly acting clueless." satoru snorted sarcastically. he's not dumb that you're telling stories to your friend, shoko.
the doctor rolled her eyes. she was this close from smashing his old friend's face to the wall to wake him up and stop being an idiot. "every fucking time, gojo. but that should not be an excuse to not talk to her. you two are still married for god's sake, and now, there's even a child along the way. i can see how much effort y/n has put in your marriage, you must do the same."
"don't you dare to compare her efforts to mine, you know nothing." he growls.
"but i sure know how shitty you are."
something inside satoru snaps. "why are you being angry at me?! you've been like this since we got married. always defending y/n, but what about me?! i have been your friend since highschool and you just met that girl! wouldn't it be unfair to side with someone whom you just met?!"
"you're asking me that when you have six eyes and yet, you can't see how much she suffers from you?!”
“but what about me? am i not suffering too?!”
how did we get here? things are getting pretty out of hand. two friends getting fired up because of a marriage that was about to fall apart. one being inside the marriage while the other one has the eye inside the marriage.
both shoko and gojo have their own sides but it all leads back to one thing, you are involved.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage. everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“just want, what? end your marriage by divorcing her?”
the moment the last syllables escaped her lips, she already knew the answer.
“fucking gojo.” shoko mumbles under her breath. “if you want to fix your life, you better not act dumb.”
satoru was still caught silent. his wide eyes trailed on the floor and unable to move. shoko saw how she hit the point. sighing over herself, she motioned the door. “get out, gojo. if you're gonna rethink your life choices, do it in your home with your wife.”
and with that, without a word, satoru left her clinic feeling heavy and defeated.
along the hallway, he saw you. satoru saw you looking at him with horror in your eyes—for the first time in one month, you finally looked him in the eyes, but it's filled with fear and tears.
“y/n, i—” just like what he had done before he left shoko's clinic, you left without saying a word.
satoru felt everything become hazy, his knees were trembling, his six eyes were stinging, his lips were turning white on how hard he bites them. the man shuddered in disappointment, you must have heard everything.
his feet act on their own and chases you, holding you by the wrist. but it was torn away immediately after you forcefully snatched it back. while doing so, satoru didn't fail to notice the hot tears streaming on your pale face, in which you immediately wiped it out.
“y/n, i-it’s not what you think. i…” as much as satoru would like you to hear himself, he hasn't gotten the words. he was left stuck by his own thoughts and self-doubt that he puts himself into shame.
meanwhile, you thought you could've just walked away from the scene. but from the moment you hear shoko and satoru exchange heated words, it gets you glued to the floor and unable to move. despite her clinic being semi-soundproof, you hear everything. even if you're not there in the room physically, you seemingly know everything.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
“y/n,” satoru called your name. his tone was very far from you used to. you grow accustomed to him saying your name venomously, but now it seems like he's saying your name delicately and vulnerable…and satoru hates being vulnerable.
“i know what you're thinking. i accidentally eavesdropped but i didn't t hear everything.” you internally praise yourself for being a great actress. you thank yourself for not stuttering and not sounding so dejected.
but you lied. you're a terrible liar. you heard everything. you heard every single thing that escaped his lips during his argument inside your friend's office. and you feel like dying, his words hurt you so much more than any deadly curses.
“have you eaten already? do you want me to prepare you for a bath?” satoru couldn't understand why the heck you still care for your wife duties when your husband, him, just broke your heart not so long ago?
you're acting absolutely strange in his eyes and he hates it. he hates how you would just bury or bottle your emotions. you're creating a facade and a labyrinth where you keep it by yourself.
“y/n, it's not time for anything. let's just talk please.” you hate it how he sounds like he's begging, but satoru never begs.
“let’s go to my room. let's talk this out—”
“gojo sensei! yaga sensei was looking for y—oh…” yuuji trailed his tracks when he saw you and satoru together.
“dummy! why do you just yell like that?!” megumi bonked his friend's head for interrupting your talk.
wearing your mask again, you smiled at the duo then brushed yourself away from the scene. satoru couldn't stop you any further, you're already away from him.
either way, satoru does the same, he wore his mask just like you. smiling at his students, he let them navigate the way towards yaga and deal with all of his shits so he would have time and talk to you properly this time.
meanwhile, yuuji and megumi were dismissed after they had done their task. nudging his black haired friend, yuuji pointed out things earlier.
“hey, fushiguro. is it just me or did i just see y/n sensei…crying?” he questioned. megumi remained silent because even saw that you were crying—they’re also not dumb to notice the burst energy somewhere inside your body.
“whether she is or not, it's none of our business.” megumi replied.
“i know. but i couldn't help but to feel really worried about her. you know crying can be bad, especially when you're pregnant, that could stress her out.” yuuji surprisingly knows how pregnancy somehow works. but they both know he's right again. they're worried about you and your baby, so they both take a mental note to visit you later.
as you slam the door behind you, a silent sob escapes your lips as you slide your back behind the wooden frame. along with the sound of your cries, was also the sound of your heart breaking.
for some reason, the facade you just put up there early makes you suffocate. it burns your eyes and it makes you shudder in pain. the hyperventilating noise escapes from your lips while you clutch the handful of fabrics of your blouse.
“you don't know how much pressure i take just because of that fucking marriage.”
“everyday that i woke, another constant nagging from these bastards of higher ups. i'm getting so, so tired and i just want to…”
god, that feeling burns! his words keep on burning in your head, engraving the letters piece by piece. those words are not too cruel, it's a little far from what you had heard before. but it came out directly from your husband's mouth, the father of your baby.
maybe, you think you acted this way because of your hormones. but nonetheless, he's like blaming you for all of his misfortunes and that made you recall your past arguments with him before.
it was like a collection of puzzles coming up together, picturing a clear image; you were just a distraction, he wanted nothing to do with you, you were just a burden, he wanted to dissolve this marriage, you would never be his, he wanted to be free from you.
you put your hand on your baby bump, stroking it ever so gently. you swore to yourself that you would never let anyone harm your baby, you would never let this marriage harm your baby, you would never let satoru harm your baby, you never let yourself harm your baby. that's for sure.
because as the clock ticks, time passes. and as the time passes, more tears flow to your cheeks along with blood on your legs.
[part 2 is out now — ©luvvixu2024]
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jjk satoru#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#fanfic#anime#luvvixu#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk angst#angst#gojo satoru angst#satoru angst#satoru x reader
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I was just reading the "Enjolras and his lieutenants" chapter and I noticed that Enjolras used the informal you for both Courfeyrac and Jehan, but not for Feuilly. Would you happen to know the historical/language reasons as to why that is? I thought it may be because both are students and where I'm from, students use the informal you, even if they don't know each other. But Bossuet addressed Marius with the formal you when they first met, so I'm not sure if that really is the reason for that. Does it mean that canonically, they aren't as close as Enjolras is with the others or could there be another reason for it? Also, do you know why he still only adresses them by their last names, even though he's using the informal you?
Nonny you are asking me about one of the Great Questions of the Novel: what the heck is going on with Feuilly and the t/v distinctions?
I am not going to dive into the weeds of standard t/v use,but --along with all the usual applications, in canon era and especially the kind of social circles that Hugo knew best and is setting up for the Amis, " tu" seems to have been common for young men to use together (a) with friends from childhood (b) among certain groups of Romantics , Because Romantic Friendship (c) particularly relevant here , among certain republican groups, because of the implied equality of everyone using it. Cosette will reference this use later:
And obviously all of this only makes Enjolras vous-ing Feuilly weirder!
And complicating the theorizing, Enjolras does use Tu for Feuilly later on, during his big barricade speech:
Écoute-moi, toi Feuilly, vaillant ouvrier, homme du peuple, hommes des peuples. Je te vénère.
I have no solid answer, only theories!
Theory 1: Feuilly is, somehow, fairly new to the group in Lieutenants.
Counterargument: then why is he already one of the Lieutenants? And in what seems to be a particularly Secret secret meeting with ONLY the Lieutenants in attendance?
Theory 2: Maybe Feuilly's much older than we generally estimate , enough to make the Tu seem less automatic? The later use of tu at the barricades seems to argue against that, but maybe that's a special " we're all fighting and about to die" level of intimacy, since Tu does seem to be in general use there?
Counterargument: hugo refers to them all being Young so very, very often, and ok that seems to include Up To Maybe 35, but still. Feuilly's part of their age cohort by all other signs.
Theory 3, Not Very Satisfying but Realistic: Hugo's bein' weird. Hugo personally used Vous for almost everyone, unless they were either direct family or , to be blunt, someone he was having an affair with. He definitely used Vous in friendships most anyone else would have considered a definite Tu situation. Maybe Hugo had an idea about it that he didn't flesh out; maybe he just wrote that and didn't catch it in edits; maybe his handwriting there was just really especially awful and whoever did the Clean Copy that day * didn't transcribe it right and no one later down the line saw it as a typo. Mundane, unrelated to the narrative reasons.
Counterargument: none ,really, except it's kinda boring.:P
Theory X (silly fandom only theory) : Enjolras and Feuilly are trying to act like they are on more formal terms , for shenanigans reasons. Maybe they're working on their Cover for a Secret Mission. Maybe they're trying to hide the fact they've started dating.
As for the Last Name thing, it's just how some people , especially men, are? I don't know that it really needs more explanation, but by all means tell me if you've got a theory! Personally I've always liked " Everyone is named Jean (so they default to last names) XD
usually, but not always, Juliette Drouet
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Trying To Save Me, Part 1
Summary: Fate. A word you were forbidden to ever speak. It wasn’t real and it didn’t exist. A word that was always whispered around you, but never to you. You didn’t know why you were fated for something. Just that the day you were born the great winter came and you’ve been on the run with your family since, but now they were gone. Traveling to what you thought was further and further away from the dark king’s palace. Instead, you had begun to get closer. Following a white wolf instead of your learned route. No wonder you wound up captive and given to the king as a gift. As was fated…
Pairings: dark king!Bucky Barnes X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings: language, violence, death, curse, attempted SA, kidnapping, humiliation, objectification, non/con fingering, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.8K
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
A woman’s shriek echos up into the mountains while a young boy looks up at the sky. His freakishly green eyes look all along the night sky. His hand taps on the arm of the other man beside him as he points up at the sky. “You need to tell Malik,” he answers, keeping his eyes in the sky.
A twig in the distance breaks, and both men look towards the tent as a long drawn out scream comes from inside, “Go, now,” he answers annoyedly as he watches the first snowflake drift from the sky. “Our fates are sealed, I fear.”
The younger boy runs inside, eyes going large and round as a woman reaches down, and cradles a just born baby to her chest. Tears and sweat pour down her face as she clings to the child, rocking back and forth.
“Sire.”
“Silence,” a gigantic man says, stepping closer to the woman, “My queen. Let me see the baby,” she cries harder, shaking her head. “Let me see the child!”
“She’s just a baby,” she cries, looking up at him. “She doesn’t have to know. Nobody has to know. She’s just a baby!”
“Sire,” the guard says again, and the large man turns abruptly, eyes aflame as he approaches slowly. “My king, the snow is falling,” the queen in the background wails. Her hands slap at everyone who tries to take the baby from her arms. “He will come for her.”
“Clean them up. Cicely, stop your screaming. Everything you know, will be no more. If you want to keep the child. If not, we can end it now. It is fated…”
“Malik, she’s a baby! My baby! No, it doesn’t exist. Take the crown on top of my head. I don’t need this life,” with a sigh, Malik slings his head to the side and everyone in the tent scrambles. “What are you doing?”
“This will be a winter like you’ve never seen before. They’re loading the necessary items,” picking his crown off his head, he throws it to the ground. “She’ll never know. Yours, too,” the queen kisses her daughter’s head before letting her own crown fall to the ground. Life would forever be different.
You reach your hand into the snow, digging around a moment before you pull up a small root. Wiping it clean before gnawing your teeth into the fibrous twig. Glancing out through the thin trees. You haven’t known anything but winter. And typically you were alone. Had been for a few years, until him. The white wolf. He always lingers around when you scavenge for what little food you could find.
“It’s not meat, you beast,” the wolf’s eyes never leave you as it sits down into the snow. “I can see that you’re looking at me like you want to devour me, but you also know I’m too skinny for eating, huh?” Chuckling, you tear another piece off the root. “Did you eat a rabbit out of my trap? I’d like to get some real food in my belly. I have to start traveling again.”
The perks of living in a village was you weren’t completely alone. There is a comfort of having a wall, and humans, even if you didn’t talk to them. “I can’t go back into the walls without something. They do community soup. You have ruined my supper a few times. This shit is horrid,” you groan. A part of you wants to throw it at the beast that wouldn’t leave you be, but you need the sustenance.
“If someone saw you, they’d kill you. Your pelt and meat would be useful,” the wolf yawns, laying himself down fully in the snow. “You’re not even scared of me, huh? I wish you could talk, so you could tell me where we were. I miss my family. Ugh,” you groan, standing up and the wolf remains laying there. “Should you ever attack me, I will kill you.”
The wolf looks you completely in the eyes, his silvery blue ones a stark contrast to your overly green ones. Looking upon each other for too long before you throw the small remnants of the root towards him. “Do not pursue me, white wolf.”
Turning your back on a wolf could be stupid, but at this point you welcomed anything that would break up the monotony. Anything that would give you excitement outside of this routine life. You’d stop at the few traps you’d laid for the small game, and hopefully carry something back. The hunger in your belly grows stronger everyday, and if you want to leave this forsaken village, you need food. Real food.
‘Don’t stay in one place too long. Don’t give people your real name. Don’t look them in the eye. Don’t speak too much,’ all your parents taught you was running away and fear. You aren’t even sure why you had to constantly move, and constantly hide your identity to the point you aren’t even sure who you are. It was all made up lies after all.
Who were you? That is a funny question because you aren’t sure. There have been glimpses of who others thought you were. There have even been whispers that you try to ignore unsuccessfully. Mentioning a word that you were forbidden to say out loud. Who were you that made people fear you, and your family fear for you?
Leaning over a trap, you thankfully pull up a rabbit. That stupid wolf didn’t eat everything. Minding your business outside of the walls of the village is your safe space. People inside the walls, particularly the ones your age are cruel. Their curious but angry eyes always on you. Watching. Planning some form of your demise.
“If it isn’t the little sapling caught all alone again,” standing up straight, you look behind you at one of the village boys, but choose to just walk to the next trap. Don’t engage. Don’t give them a reason to hate. “What’s the matter, princess? You scared of a little fun?”
You didn’t want the fun he was willing to dish out. You wanted to eat, and leave this place. Talk to as few people as possible. They were the ones dragging you into their drama, “Yeah,” you stop your movement. Turning in the other direction when two boys start stalking you. “We just want to play a little bit.”
“Maybe fill your belly, so you have to stay. That’s what you’re getting ready to do, huh?” Three boys. You’re fucked. Instead of collecting from your traps, you walk towards the wall. You try to find something. A large stick, anything to use as a weapon. Of course there would be too many.
“She thinks she’s too good for us,” four. Where the hell were they coming from? Head down. Walk faster.
Another steps from behind a tree directly in front of you, and you nearly forget to breathe, “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. I’m tired of the girls here. I like fresh meat. I’ve heard your untouched,” fuck. Your bright green eyes look around at all five of them gathering around you. What amazing men they are.
Grabbing onto the knife at your hip, one of these jackasses grabs your arm, “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” another hand, another weapon.
“Girly, we just want to have some fun.”
“Fun for who?” Your voice isn’t as strong as you hoped. It is borderline screeching.
“Keep screaming. We like it,” god, they are just a pleasant bunch. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. First is pain, and then a blinding light as you drop to the ground. “Go on, give us a scream.”
“Are you too stupid to say anything?” You clench your eyes closed as you try to ignore the pain in the back of your head. Snow squishes up into your ear, and you drift off to anywhere but here. Hands grabbing the furs on your body, and you hate you’re always alone. There is never anyone to protect you, so you have to take everything.
“She sure is pretty face down like this,” one of their hands hooks under your pants. “We won’t tell anyone if you won’t. What the fuck? Ahh,” snarls. “Help me!” Your assailant screams while all his friends run away. Pulling the furs close to your body, you scurry around, sitting on your ass, and start to scoot away.
Those silvery blue eyes stare deep into your soul as his teeth dig into the boy’s shoulder deeper. “Get your knife! Do something!”
“You were about to rape me. All of you,” you would have to be a fool to not know what those boys were attempting to do to you. And this one had the gall to demand that you do something to save him. Who was going to save you from them?
“We were teasing, you little bitch!” The white wolf’s muzzle raises as he watches you. Too still for an animal in the forest. “Stab it!” His screams are hideous, but you don’t feel sorry for him. That disgusting excuse for a man would had laughed at every scream you made.
You give a single nod to the wolf, and he bites down so hard on his shoulder, you hear the sickening crack of his bones. His voice shoots into the twilight as the wolf drags him away. It felt like he was waiting on you to tell him it is okay to kill him. At least the beast would have some meat tonight as would you. You could finally get a full belly, and could leave this terrible place. As soon as the first ray of sun came through your tent, you’d be gone.
Grabbing up your rabbits, you try not to vomit at the horrid screams, and crunching bones that are not far enough away. Your stomach rolls, realizing the wolf was trying to keep the young man alive as long as possible. Wanting him to feel every bit of the pain he was ready to inflict on you. “Thank you, and you’re welcome for dinner, white wolf.”
No. You squint as you look up into the sky, and then back at the beast. That isn’t the right way. “You’re going to get me killed,” the wolf continues to look at you, turning his back he walks a few steps before looking back at you. “I’m not following you.”
He takes a slow calculated step towards you, snarling as he takes another. “Fine! But you follow me,” another step. “Don’t lead me closer to the center of the realm,” you don’t even know why that is a thing. Why did you have to stay on the outskirts? A wildling, living in an eternal winter. You are no longer a child, and surely people still didn’t believe the prophecy.
“Do you know what spring looks like?” You’re talking to a wolf. Walking where you shouldn’t be, and you have lost your mind. Wandering around because you no longer even understood why you had to do this. Humans weren’t meant to live alone, you couldn’t see the purpose of needing to lay low. It’s silly to assume that you couldn’t live the life that some did in the villages. Getting married, having a family, being as normal as winter would allow.
You didn’t want to bring a child into this world. A world where food is just as scarce as the warmth. And the king’s cruel reputation for using women as currency. Sounded like a grand world. What if you had a daughter, and she was one that was kidnapped by the king. Sold into whatever life he made them live.
Maybe those were enough reasons for you to not go close to the kingdom. “Do you think the king’s guards ever go outside the kingdom walls?” Your furry friend puffs as he continues his trek. “I suppose they’d have to. I wonder how the kingdom works. Why wouldn’t people just refuse to have children? And what is he doing with these women? Eating them? Does the blood of virgins keep him alive forever? Is the king really not that cruel, but the stories are because he hoards food? Maybe even something nice to eat. Not just to sustain oneself. Ahh!”
You flinch, having to step back as he starts to walk towards you again, “Okay, I won’t talk about the king. Truce. I am just talking, and didn’t realize you understood me,” nodding his head, he turns back around. Weird creature. Even though the wolf couldn’t respond, you feel the need to talk. Like you have an audience for the first time.
Why the hell did this wolf understand you? How did it possibly know what you are talking about? And did he like or not like the king? Maybe they were sworn enemies and talking about the king pissed him off. Or maybe they were in fact friends. “How was your dinner last night? I’m sure the meat was rotten, but I suppose it was better than a squirrel. Thank you by the way. Don’t think you and I have to be friends, but I think they would have left me for dead.”
There isn’t a doubt in your mind that’s what they were going to do. Fucking men. They were all little boys who wanted to destroy things deep inside of them. “Monsters. The word men shouldn’t even be used. They’re monsters. Like you, white wolf, I know you are a beast and can kill me, and eat me it seems, and I still follow you. Do you have any idea where we are going?”
You are glad that no one is around to hear you gab on with a damn wolf. One that would surely have you for lunch. “That’s probably what you’re doing, huh? Leading me to your den where you can all feast on me.”
The giant dog stops abruptly. Throwing his head up to the sky he bellows out a howl, and you cover your ears as his noise vibrates through your body. This didn’t sound like a normal wolf. Or maybe you’ve never been so close to one. Screaming out in pain as you move away from him. “You fucking asshole!”
You need to get away. The beast seriously did bring you to your demise. Sending out a distress call to his fellow demons to come chow down on your body. “Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, trying to run far away from the creature that is going to see that you’re ripped apart limb by limb.
“Where did she go?” Fuck! More men. Monsters. All of them. The only ones worth anything were the ones laying cold and dead in the snow. “Go in all directions. It’s time,” you’re going to die, actually die this time. Die out here in this frozen wasteland because if you run, they’ll chase.
“This will be easier than I thought,” an evil leer as the man spots your footprints. Damn this winter! There should be a downpour of snow right now. Instead you’re a sitting duck with a trial of prints right to you. Taking off your pack, you pull out your daddy’s necklace, and kiss it. If they wanted you, they’d have to catch you.
One slow, solid breath, and you launch out of your hiding spot, and spring towards anywhere. “Got her,” shit! Everywhere you run there are men. But not just any men. The ones you had tried to avoid for a lifetime.
“By order of the king, I command you to stop!” They could cut your head off. If you were going to die, you’d die trying. And you weren’t going to stop. What choice did you have but to do everything in your power to not be taken captive.
“Oomph,” you start choking as a large man wraps his arms around you tightly. “She’s a fighter. The king will love that. Someone that can deal with his overgrown bratty self.”
“Get your hands off me!”
“Cuff her,” the blond man says, nodding his head towards another. “Hold still!”
“I don’t want to be your toy!” You hate men. They’re disgusting. The most vile of humans.
“You won’t. Not ours anyways,” he chuckles as the chains are put around your wrists, and even your neck. “Careful now,” he says obnoxiously as metal is extended towards your face. “It shouldn’t hurt but just a little. With this on, no one but the king will touch you.”
You didn’t want anyone touching you. Not this guard. Not the king. Closing your eyes, you grit your teeth as the mask is pressed against your face. A quick sting from the metal that is too cold to be on your skin. But then something pricks the back of your neck, and your scream lights up the forest, and then darkness. Nothing but eternal despair.
You were warned. And you failed. The one place you were to avoid, you ran right to it. Stupid girl.
Living in a world of ice and all alone, you get used to things not going your way. You’re a bit too vulnerable in a society that looks down at you because you’re a woman. A marked one at that. But a woman whose only one purpose you possess is for men’s pleasure and carrying babies. Other than the last remaining people of your tribe, you never met a man that was worth anything. And now you were in the belly of the beast.
The worst man of all. Some people claim that his influence sludged out to the realm, and it’s what turned all men sour. The fairy tale that once upon a time men were chivalrous, and they changed along with the weather.
Once your mind came to it didn’t take long to figure out exactly where you were, and in whose dungeon you are in. His. The man you were told to stay as far away from. He was the bogeyman in the stories you were told growing up. Foul, hideous, loathsome, and the worst kind of human, and now you’re trapped with a damn metal mask on your face.
Feeling completely alone except for the stupid mutt laying beside you with his head on your lap, “You are filth. Don’t try and butter me up because you got me caught,” his head pops up, his crystal blue eyes staring deep into yours, and you turn away. “I’m going to die here.”
It’s something you have never doubted. Getting caught equals death. Being here, alone, with a damn wolf, with a mask cannot be a good thing. The king will most likely stall, making sure you have no fight left before he pulls you apart one inch of your skin by one inch. Your mind races with ways the dark king can destroy you.
It’s cold. Colder in here than even outside. At least outside there is a dryness to it. In here the walls drip with what you hope is water and not something more sinister. What could you possibly have looked forward to in this life? An eternal winter? Constantly fighting for men not to touch you? Becoming a wife that had no desire to birth children in this world? Maybe this is better off.
“Where are you going?” You whisper as the four legged menace runs away. “Coward,” even he knows it’s desolate here.
Clanging sounds from behind the door, and you roll your eyes up to meet the blonde guard that captured you in the woods. “About time you woke up. Come on,” his mouth sets into a leering smile as he pulls you up from the floor. Using the key at his side to undo your chains. “He’s been waiting on you.”
“Dare I ask who?”
“You know exactly who. Your fate,” swallowing bile, he pulls you into his body. No amount of making yourself heavier works as he practically drags you out of the dungeon. That word is a curse. You’re more scared now than you were getting caught. “I saw your necklace, girlie,” his laugh grates on your nerves as painful as the arm that is wrapped around your waist.
“We’ve been waiting on you.”
“To torture me,” he chuckles right into the shell of your ear, and you want to retch. “What is this on my face?” His talking stops abruptly. Continuing to tug, and pull on your body, “You’re hurting me.”
“Get used to it,” torture it is. Did you think anything less? The most vile of humans that you were supposed to stay away from, and he captured you. Of course you were going to be tortured. Now you have to suffer the consequences. He shoves you into a room so hard that you fall down to your knees, and you yelp. Turning around to look at him. “Face forward and have fun.”
You hear another man clear his throat, and you try to disappear. Looking down at the floor with your eyes closed as you listen to his light footsteps. Walking around you before his meaty hands go under your arms, hauling you up to stand. Your breathing is nonexistent, but his breath is heavy. Fragrant of a scent you can’t place. And he inhales deeply.
Leaning into your ear, “You smell like a fucking dog,” he should talk. You weren’t the only one that reeked of something, and he is a king. You’ve been in a dungeon. “I’ll enjoy watching you be bathed.”
Fuck. Torture seems to be subjective. “Has any man touched you?” What did it fucking matter? Like he was going to ask for permission? He had you tied up with something on your damn face, impairing your vision, and he cared about how many men have put their grimy hands on you? “If you want to be able to sit on your ass, I suggest you open your goddamn mouth. Has a man ever touched you,” he swats at your backside hard as he comes to stand in front of you.
“Men always touch what they think they can own.”
He clicks his tongue, smiling gleefully at you, “None of those men had the power to own you.”
“And you do?” His hand goes underneath the mask, grabbing your neck with his fingers on your chin as he turns you to look at a mirror. You stare horrified as a wolf shaped mask covers your face. Your hair is oily and matted, and your bones protrude out of your body. But the mask is evil looking on your face. Otherworldly, and it didn’t belong there, “You don’t own me.”
“Is that so?” This man is far faster than any other man as he pulls and yanks at the rags that dress your body. Pulling off everything in shreds until you’re bare before him, and he throws you over his shoulder. Marching out of the room you are in before he throws you into a body of water.
You sputter, struggling to keep your head above the water before standing up. Shivering and naked. Wishing you could throw daggers at every part of his skin. Looking around to see an audience of people staring at your shame, and you dip back into the water for coverage with your arms hugged against your chest. You want to yell and curse at him, but you’re outnumbered. “Clean her. Then we’ll all enjoy inspecting you.”
“What does that mean?” Panic rises in your voice as men and women come into the pool with you. Men grab at your arms while women scrub on your body with a brush. The king sits down in a chair, and a creepy smile spreads over his face. “What does it mean? Ow!”
If he wasn’t so vile you might find him handsome. Cheekbones carved so sharply, and dark hair slicked back. He rolls his fingers over the armrest, and you start counting every ring that is laid upon his fingers.
“You’re so weak,” he chuckles, staring too intently as the women cup and scrub your breasts. His eyes drift to your necklace as he leans back, “Do you even know who you are? Or why you have always been mine? Every inch of you belongs to me. Those eyes and your necklace prove it. Your mom was nothing but a lying whore, and your dad was a fool anyways.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t? I don’t know that your so called father sat on a stolen throne? And your lying mother laid down with the rightful king. Your sweet innocent father thought your eyes belonged to him. You telling me he didn’t know your mom was fucking his guard,” your eyes go large as you stare at him. They were eerily similar to Jarrod’s.
“She tried to fight this curse and our connection, and instead, let a cock drive your bastard self right to me. What do you know of the day you were born?” Nothing. But you wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m sure they didn’t tell you much. The first snowflake fell that day. Everyday that you’ve been kept apart from me was another day of winter. The day you were born every drop of blood in your body and every inch of your delectable skin belonged to me. The night you were conceived is the same night your cunty father murdered mine. His guard was pumping his wife full, and here you are.”
God the way he talked about your family is despicable. Because you really wanted to know about your mother’s affairs. “Your mom was so scared to give birth to the king’s daughter, she gave her cunt to the next best thing. Jarrod was always the king. You can’t fate. Just like you can’t escape my wrath. Remove the mask.”
A woman slowly takes the metal off your face, and you glare at him. Wishing your look alone could set his entire body on fire. His head twists to the side curiously as he looks at you. An odd softness before he looks at the swell of your breast, and the snarky smile appears again.
“Bring her to me. On her knees, so I can look upon what’s mine. Don’t fight it either. I’ll fuck you like an animal right in front of all these people if you fight,” your chest heaves as all these hands carry you in front of him. Turning you away before lowering you to the floor. Someone pushes down your head as you stay on all fours before the king.
“This is how I like to see you. Submissive, spread and so puffy for me,” his fingers run through your core, and you hear a rumble in his stomach, “you can try deny me, but your body backing up to my fingers? Your body craves me. It’s like a magnet you can’t escape, and if you keep acting like a needy bitch in heat, I’ll give you exactly what your body has been denied.”
That’s a lie. You’ve never wanted any man to touch you. Never desired anything from them, but even you can’t deny the moan that escapes your mouth as one of his fingers breaches your walls. Loud and salacious as you glance back at him. “Since you love how it feels when we’re connected, just wait until I fuck you.”
You keep your head low, knowing that everyone in this room can see you down on your knees like an animal, while the king has a finger inserted so far into your cunt. He pulls the appendage out before shoving two more in. The audience starts to walk closer as the king stabs them into you, and you hope you don't react. That the only thing he can see if your fingers curling up, and you biting on your tongue.
Your cheeks heat up in flames with embarrassment, but also a sickening pleasure that you wish you didn't feel. The lewd squelching sound of your body causing the king to licks his lips with need. Fucking his fingers into faster before pulling out. Denying you release, and he slaps over your lips. "Juicy enough to eat."
“You’ll never get to fuck me.”
“I will, and you’ll beg for my seed every night. Don’t forget this moment. The moment you learned that your life is meant to serve mine. Put the mask back on her, and I want her placed in her gilded cage right in front of my bed. Maybe she’ll like me fucking into some whore’s cunt. Or would you like to watch me fuck my hand? I’ll even spurt my cum on your face. Make the servants wash you after you lick up every drop of my load. One of these days, you won’t be able to deny us. And maybe then we’ll get to see the world how it was intended.”
“And how’s that, your grace?”
“Not covered in fucking snow,” his voice is harsh as he walks out of the bathing room. Leaving you with all these people just staring at your naked body. Dressing you like you are a doll. You’d never beg for him. You didn’t want him. Or any man. It would never happen. And winter had nothing to do with him fucking you.
Because you belonged to no man.
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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy @jesevans @alexakeyloveloki
#trying to save me#dark fic#dark!fic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fics#bucky barnes smut#dark king!bucky barnes
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Which joestar do you think would be the worst yandere? And why
Pick your poison! I like to think the Joestar’s all have their little traits that shine the most based on their personality (so whose the worst can depend on what you’re uncomfortable with). Going to do just the og verse jojo’s for this 1-6.
Jonathan : Very sweet almost intoxicatingly so, but he tends to end up a bit overprotective/just a bit babying. Insisting he does things for you, if you have some issue somewhere else? Why not let him resolve it. Don’t fret over too much he has the means to take care of you. There might be a time or two your room might be locked if you’re a little more stubborn than usual
Joseph: What is this thing called “personal space” ? It almost sounds like a foreign language to this man. He totally didn’t mess certain things up so you happen to meet up with him. Not sure why your date stood you up? He couldn’t possibly give an answer other than they’re not worth your time since they didn’t bother showing up. He should take you to this great place he loves going to after a long day.
Jotaro: Stalking type usually, and mows past anything that he might feel gets in the way of you and himself. He’s used to punks, so he’s not afraid to pummel someone if they don’t get the message to scram. When it comes to classes, he’s glancing at you every so often, maybe there’s a “doodle” or two in his notebook. Need to walk somewhere? He’ll walk with you. If you’re hiding out to be alone, he ends up finding you. You’re probably the reason he learns any building’s layout in the first place. Clubs or class cleaning doesn’t stop Jotaro either, he’ll wait as long as it takes. Being sick at home doesn’t stop him either, usually there’s some kind of hot soup/dish that’s good to eat while sick sitting in your room somehow. (Not to mention potential kidnapping later down the line if you’re not really cooperating)
Later Parts like 4 and 6, he’s pretty similar in dropping you off things even if you never once told him your address. (He has a decent memory of these things). Similarly Jotaro has any phone numbers you have in his contacts, and he’ll have a talk personally with anyone that he isn’t fond of approaching you. He tends to have you in the back of his mind while out on his studies, or writing a paper, and yet again drawings somewhere he’s compelled to place them. Every so often he checks in on you (whether you want this or not doesn’t matter). Broken down car? It’s either replaced swiftly or he’s driving you places himself. Maybe he somehow (forces) nudges you to live with him.
Josuke : He’s head over heels for you, and similar to Joseph he’s going to take any opportunity to squeeze himself into your life. He just so happens to have some leftover lunch from that place you like? You looked sad when they had sold out of your favorite meal there, so why doesn’t he help with that? Speaking of, maybe your eyes are drifting somewhere else. He steals any potential love letters to a crush and rewrites them, making it look like you’re confessing to him. He may also leave one of your favorite treats you like in its place. It’s an enigma to you how he found that out.
Giorno : He’s the don of the Italian mafia, he’s almost constantly worried about you. So if he has eyes on you, it’s almost immediate you lose autonomy whether born in Italy or a tourist. He’s clever in his ways to trap you, whether you’re resistant or not doesn’t matter. (he does think you’re cute with a strong head on your shoulders). There’s some of that charisma he possess all the same just like his father. Even if it doesn’t work on you, it makes others around you to trap you easily. Giorno likes to think he gives you a lot of leeway with voluntarily coming to him. He’ll meet you casually in coffee shops or wherever you’re willing to shop at. The bill is covered without you having to say a word. Any cash you used is miraculously brought back to you somehow. The blond isn’t afraid to get his hands a little dirty however when it comes to you. If he has to take something for you to step into his arms (whether it’s your ability to walk around outside or someone close to you) he’ll do whatever it takes.
Jolyne : Sure she stalks somewhat, but like her father she can be bold in taking care of the competition. She’s not afraid to hold your hand or finding a way for you two to do so. Eavesdropping is something she does occasionally, and anyone that wants to stomp on your heart is going to get stomped themselves. She does delay you with stone free (or outright captures you) if Jolyne doesn’t want you to leave. It’s impossible to shake her off, no matter what you try to do. Of course she made a copy of your apartment key, what if there’s an emergency? Maybe she wanted to make you breakfast. Huh? What do you mean she can’t just walk in unannounced? Don’t be ridiculous.
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere jjba#yandere jjba imagines#yandere jjba x reader#jjba imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere jotaro kujo#yandere jonathan joestar#yandere joseph joestar#yandere josuke higashikata#yandere giorno giovanna
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I didn't think this would be here so soon, but here is the latest chapter has been added for my Decked Out 2-inspired dnd campaign, namely chapter 6: the Burning Dark. Finally, Descend into the home of the warden, where the sculk originates from, where it had been waiting patiently to be unleashed again. You or the sculk - only one party can come out on top.
You can find everything else I've written for this campaign until now right here.
NOTE: this project is unfinished. I'm just excited to share with you what I've already got, so please keep that in mind.
The next update about this project will be me announcing the main document that compiles everything I've done into one coherent whole.
#terrors beneath deepfrost citadel#decked out 2#hermitcraft#it's almost finished#just need to clean up some of the language#make it all consistent#ensure that everything is alright before putting it into one big thing#the separate documents will be made unavailable later#capricious writings
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enjoy some pencil drawings for once
screenshot study and what amounts to a conceptual illustration of a writing idea
#bravely Didn't try working on the ol wip last night; drawing program needed the laptop restarted anyways; dicked around thusly#like Yes i wanna draw my funny little guy who is the heart & brain's default lately (last several years) nice to do anyways#and naturally imo you can see the [been working on that animatic] influence. don't often manage to draw a thusly stylized winston#he would have the winstache here theoretically but no way was i trying to draw that in lol. nigh guaranteed erasing & v little space for it#for the erasing i mean. further disclosures for Interest: negligable / par for the course digital cleaning up includes getting rid of Some#stray marks like particularly annoying out of place specks. hard to do any of that & pick a stopping point though. yet i did...#more significant tweaks were moving winston's mouth up & one pupil iris Mark over both by like 5 pixels tops lol. still better =)#& then naturally the second pic's Colors are all added digitally. texture & that like shade gradient from top to bottom are courtesy of just#the lighting in the pics picking up paper texture / being itself uneven so there was more shadow further down....#pic one only had lighting & contrast adjustments (slight increase on both)....i don't think any of this was very interesting lol but hey.#winston billions#corned beef#technically:#riawin#i don't know if i quite adequately indicated winston as upset in a frustrated kind of genre as well lol....#but then i reacted afresh to The Pic as i was adding the colors like ah it conveys the intended emotion To Me...& i am the intended audience#could look like oh he's just like very elevatedly & transparently like ''ah jeeeez *Eye* messed up [pensive]'' lol but isnt meant to be so..#hand on back of head not to be sheepish or chastened but rather an ''agh christ i wanged the back of my head'' kneejerk reaction lmao#for once in our lives the fun lil stars are the comic strip language of Oof Ouch Physical Pain indication#the other half of [reacting to what literally just happened / has arisen] being like And spilt my drink on my self#and b/c it's winston & it's his life there May be undercurrents of ''ah jeez. did *i* mess up here / so as to be at Ultimate Fault''#that is the assumed interpretation of Anyone Else at him at any time. [Autistic Character Alert] babes....#meanwhile. re: pic one's ref i took the screenshot for whole other fun casual reasons & eventually realized like oh hey fun bust profile. so#an exercise in Shading. which is sure smthing i'm a lot more practiced doing via pencil than digital means
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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again
I mean, I am. But still.
So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.
So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.
At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.
Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell
So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.
I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.
This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.
Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.
I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.
Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.
We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.
"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."
"A what," he asks.
"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"
"Oh! A turtle!" he says.
"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.
The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.
"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.
"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.
"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.
"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??
The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?
I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.
"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."
"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.
"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!
So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.
(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)
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Have you ever read a translation being prior familiar with original and just wanted to throw hands.
#> tired shitpost#im going to say it okay#i KNOW translation is a fucking hard job to do#but Listen my nit pickiness is NOT about how 'accurate' it even is to the text sometime#ACTUALLY I prefer that translation was sound and clean and was harmonic and natural to the language you are translating to#so translation won't Kill the characters or atmosphere or setting#sometimes giving up the accurate translation in favor of 'good flow' IS BETTER#but also like#some mistakes are plain STUPID because of the translator's poor understanding of events told#in the case of what im talking about#the character said 'had all floor to himself'#using 'floor' as the lower surface of a room on which people walk#BUT translator FOR SOME FUCKING REASON interpreted it as in the synonym to 'storey' aka all the rooms on the same level in the building#and the dialog made absolutely ZERO sense#also in places the translation im ranting about just seemed PURELY MECHANICAL AND TOO LITERATE#like Brother In Stardust what are you fucking doing#people don't talk like that in this language#in english? sure#not in russian they fucking don't#bottom line they need some better translator or a redactor who will fucking keep all this shit under a radar
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HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!
thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.
he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.
he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.
but he couldn’t take everything lying down.
did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?
he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.
he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.
he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.
but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.
but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.
simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.
and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?
you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.
the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.
and all the signs pointed to you.
and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.
price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.
johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.
then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.
simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.
maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.
but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.
all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.
and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.
so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.
and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.
even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.
he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.
but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.
the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.
it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.
the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.
“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.
“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”
simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.
“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”
“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”
price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.
“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”
“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.
price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”
the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.
he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.
“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.
price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”
simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.
“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”
they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.
pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.
although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.
but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.
an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.
you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.
damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.
you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.
he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.
‘you should have killed me.’
maybe he should have.
thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—
im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!
as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)
#cod mw2 fic#captain john price#gaz call of duty#soap call of duty#ghost call of duty#captain price#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#John price#simon riley x gn reader#simon riley angst#ghost x gn reader#ghost x you#ghost angst#ghost x reader#ghost cod#141!reader#141 x reader#task force 141
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6][Pt.7]
“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”
Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”
“Wait, I’m just here to-”
“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”
Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.
“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.
“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”
Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”
“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”
Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.
“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”
“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”
“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.
“So, what brings you to Gotham?”
Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”
“You go to school?”
“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”
“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”
Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?
“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”
Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?
"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"
Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"
"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"
"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."
Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."
Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."
"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.
'Careful,' Black Bat signed.
"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"
Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.
'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.
"You know sign language?"
"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."
He knew ghost-sign first, after all.
"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."
----
Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.
"You two can come back anytime."
Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.
"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."
"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"
"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."
Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.
----
"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"
Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.
"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."
"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.
"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"
"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.
"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.
"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"
"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"
#batman#danny phantom#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#bruce wayne#bruce has already adopted this kid#just not with paperwork#but that's a trivial matter for BatDad#he's also going to adopt both tucker and sam#dcxdp#sea cryptic! danny au
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ok i need. need. NEED. you all to understand what high support needs autism actually is. not just higher support, but highhhh (high) support.
& honestly me, am not even fit to talk about this!! but knowing popular (often low support) autism content creators & authors tokenize me & include me in justification “well i listen to high support needs people and they need—”
high support needs not just need remind take meds, not even need remind eat, need remind shower. if you think “high support needs” & those struggles come first in mind & see those as most represent of HSN, most classical way of be HSN, then you wrong. you wronggg.
many HSN autistic, not even “advanced” enough (for not have better word) to able use reminders. on average day often need physical help. for a lot, need complete physical help. need complete physical help hold spoon n fork, or not able be a part at all and need other people do it. need be told open mouth chew swallow sometimes. need other people clean up drool & spill from mouth & mess.
they have worth. deserve all the fucking help they need.
“difference between low & high support is not actual amount struggle because all struggle inside same but that high support show more external outside struggle & those struggle more annoying for people around them” hear this so often and make blood boil because cannot be farther from truth yet some you all so loudly proclaim.
then tell me why only hear LSN say this. why only hear LSN on internet. why all big content creator big authors big autistic speakers all LSN.
tell me how someone nonverbal and no robust communication no functional language struggle even nonverbally communicate not even AAC not yet or not ever ever, how that same inside as someone who able speak who speak fluent who able communicate want needs dreams have conversation with words
both struggle. but not fucking same struggle.
many people in between. but you not get use people like them like me to give self shiny credential of “i know high support needs because i listen”
don’t use me. you embarrass me.
#not vague post of mutuals#angry not able write as clear but just want grab people and shake them#loaf screm#actually autistic#high support needs
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. the art of aftercare, love and food.
about. to katsuki bakugou, aftercare is just as important as making you feel good. and nothing beats aftercare more than a home cooked meal, made with love.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw? characters in their 20s, suggestive, fluff, aftercare sessions, bakugou cooks for reader, established relationship, mentions of sex, afab!reader, pro hero!bakugou. i haven’t written him in 4ever go easy on me </3!! wc: 400+
no matter how fucked out or pussy drunk he is, katsuki always makes you a meal after sex.
bakugou’s first instinct is to get you water, kiss your head and tell you what a good little thing you’ve been for him. his baby always takes him so well. his baby deserves a treat.
once you’ve calmed down enough, and he’s cleaned you up, he carries you to the kitchen with his infamous skull shirt draped over your twitching frame. he likes the way you sling your arms lazily over his broad shoulders and the way you nuzzle into his neck too — as if you can’t get enough of him or need the blonde for comfort.
he’s careful when he sets you down on the counter — grabbing you a water bottle from the fridge and holding the cool plastic rim against your cherry bruised lips. “drink,” he says, though it’s more like a caring command. “need to keep you hydrated.”
katsuki keeps his touch gentle when he uses two fingers to tilt your head up, making sure you swallow down enough water to make him satisfied. he’ll praise you, call you his good little baby and ask if he can leave you alone for a second to get your dinner started.
silence with katsuki is always comfortable, never awkward or weird after being so intimate and open with one another. the slight clang of ceramic cooking ware against one another fills your kitchen along with the scuff of his house slippers against your laminated floors. every so often, a kiss is delivered to your forehead, nose or cheeks as the blonde reaches up to grab spices from the cabinet above your head.
he lets you know that he’s still there, in small little ways.
bakugou knows not to spend too long on a meal after ravaging you. you’re always impatient and the food smells a little too good, making your tummy rumble and an adorable pout form on your lips. “such a brat, huh? even now,” he coos, flicking your nose as he slips between your legs. “taste this f’me. wanna know if you think it’s ready.”
like a baby, he scoops a spoonful of broth or soup or stew or whatever you fancy that night, into your awaiting mouth — watching for that spark in your eyes or a brightened expression spreading across your face.
“good?”
“great.”
he shares you out a portion, spending a good amount time feeding you before he has some of his own.
because katsuki bakugou’s love language is cooking — putting the perfect amount of time into creating the perfect meal is how he shows that he cares for you. and as you scarf down every bite, you know that each one was made with katsuki’s love for you.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#bakugou smut#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagines#bakugou drabbles#bakugo drabble#bakugo imagine#bakugo x you#bnha x reader#bnha fluff#bnha x you#bnha imagines#katsuki bakugou x reader#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#angelshubnetwork
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For Danny, gravity is a suggestion, but when he's human he prefers to feel ground under his feet while he's thinking. This leads to him often not realising he's started walking on the wall or ceiling when he's lost in thought or otherwise distracted.
Tim's definitely normal human friend Danny, pacing on the ceiling during his third visit at Wayne manor: [ranting about something, probably defending his love of weird flavour combo milkshakes]
The Batfam, silently debating how they're gonna break it to Danny that he's a meta: ........
Tim's eyes follow Danny as he starts pacing around the table, his homework abandoned on the table. His voice is becoming sharper, and his words are strung together more as he continues. He noticed that he became less aware of his surroundings when his friend started going on his rants.
Watching Danny's body language become slightly less human was fascinating. It started with his eyes—if Danny felt angry, they would glow green. Tim always knew when to cut back on his teasing whenever he saw the flash of green, no matter how brief the green was.
When Danny rants about something that upsets or makes him sad, his voice gains a particular echo. It is almost as if he is slowly walking into a cave.
There were times when Danny got excited or happy; his hair would start to puff up slightly. This reminded Tim of when he would rub a balloon on his hair to study the positive and negative charges.
Danny's hair didn't flout straight up, but it was electric enough to be noticeable if you paid enough attention.
It was as if his emotions affected his physical form like a mood ring. Tim could always tell what Danny felt by watching for the little effects.
All these little things were easy to hide. Most people noticed less than Tim did, but there was one little quirk Danny did that was rather hard to miss.
"What if we talked about the effect of well-lit street lights on crime rates?" Danny asked, striding up to a wall and casually pacing on it. He continued to think out loud, with his eyes closed, as he made loops on the ceiling. Tim needed to pay more attention to the subject of their presentation, but he was somewhat distracted by how Danny's hair and shirt defied gravity.
They stayed perfectly in place as if his friend were still on the ground and not upside down. Tim wondered if his powers were less flying and more gravity-shifting.
It would also explain his lower degree of super strength if he could manipulate gravity. (Tim didn't care what Danny claimed in gym class. No regular human could lift two punching bags like nothing, especially for something as casual as cleaning up)
Or maybe he was able to move in a fifth direction. From his perspective, while Tim was stuck in 3D, Danny could move in the fourth and walk on the ground. It would explain why he didn't notice he had stepped on the walls or ceiling. To Danny, he never left the floor.
"No, that wouldn't work," Danny mutters, making loops around the chandelier. "What if we...but then that would mean...."
Tim couldn't make out most of his words, but that was fine. Danny also tended to mutter under his breath when he was deep in thought.
He cranks his neck back, eyes tracing the way Danny seemed to strut around as if he was out for a walk on a nice sunny day in the park. Carefully, making sure Danny was too distracted by his thoughts, Tim aimed his camera phone at him.
He takes a few photos and then opens the family group chat.
Tim: I need advice on gently telling a friend something that may change our friendship. I've tried to say it to him before but he doesn't seem to get it.
Jason: buy him some flowers and write him a poem. He'll love it.
Steph: That's terrible advice, Jay. No one does that anymore
Jason: No one has class anymore, you mean. Besides, boys deserve to be romanced, too.
Dick: Just tell him how you feel, Tim! Be direct and make sure you use the words "I like you romanticly." Sometimes people don't understand you're asking them out.
Damian: Do not bother me with your failed courtships.
Duke: Maybe don't go as far as Jay said, but Dick's right. You have to say, "Go on a date with me" or something.
Steph: Try the bend and snap! It's Elle Woods-approved!
Tim: No, that's not what this is about. I need help telling Danny he might be a metahuman with Superman-level Power.
There is a long pause before his phone vibrates again.
Damian: I beg your finest pardon?
Bruce is typing.....
Tim: He's friendly! He just has yet to notice that what he does isn't regular.
Jason: Wait, isn't Danny that kid we saw you at the ice ring with? The one that snuck up on Cass by accident?
Tim: Yes
Multiple people are typing.....
Tim briefly glances up to see what Danny is up to, and he is surprised that Frost has started developing in his footsteps. That's certainly new. He attached the photos to the chat, sending them off as Danny slowly floated back down.
He watches as his friend flips horizontally in mid-air so that he's standing upright when he lands. His hair is starting to puff up again, so he is not surprised when Danny's eyes snap open with a gleeful glint in them.
"I figured it out, Tim!"
"That's great," Tim tells him with a smile as Danny eagerly returns to his seat. He is babbling about the solution to their government class and how he knows he can get their proposed bill passed with the correct narrative.
Tim watches frost develop around his pencil and chair. Fascinating. Does that mean excitement? He almost forgets about the family group chat while attempting to figure out what emotion Danny is experiencing to connect to frost that he missed a few messages.
Bruce: Tim, where are you?
Bruce: he made Cass jump because she didn't hear or see him coming. That's worrisome.
Bruce: He could be dangerous
Bruce: Where are you
Bruce: Tim, answer me
Bruce: Timothy Jackson Drake, answer the phone right now
Dick: Oooooohhhh middle name
Damian: They are in the left-wing dining room, Father. I already have a visual on them.
Damian sent a photo of two teenage boys sitting at a table, bending over to look at a book together. Papers and pencils are scattered around the stranger while Tim's trusted laptop is in front of his part.
Bruce: Good. Keep them in sight at all times and report any suspicious behavior.
Damian: Naturally.
Steph: No DNA test is needed
Duke: Literally.
Cass: I am confused. I thought we all knew Tim's boyfriend was not human?
Jason: We did not, in fact, know that Cass.
Cass: It is obvious by the way he moves that Danny is not a meta-human. He is close to one, but he moves like a different being. He reminds me of Captain Marvel.
Multiple people are typing......
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Dead tired#Right now Tim just thinks of Danny as a friend#Danny's powers are reflects of his mood#The bats think they are dating#Bruce is having a aneurysm from stress#Text fic#Phone a Friend Au#Part 1
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Night Shift
Thank you anon for this request!
Pairing: Joel Miller x nurse!reader
Summary: It was a relatively quiet night in the emergency room until a handsome contractor gets admitted and adds some excitement to your life.
Warnings: language, descriptions of wounds/injuries/blood (typical hospital junk), needles, drugs (the medical kind), fluff, flirting, rom-com vibes, soft!joel, just a little smut (18+ MDNI)
WC: 7.3K
lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics
A/N: I'm fully aware some things I'm about to describe is probably incorrect (medically) but let's suspend that disbelief for a fun, fluffy story, shall we?
"Dr. Fisher wants you in room 504, but if you're too busy, I would be more than willing to go," Lily said, leaning over the counter with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I haven't had anything to do other than charts for the past two hours, how on earth could I be too busy?" you asked, standing up and draping your stethoscope around your neck. Then you froze, realizing Lily never tries to take a patient off your hands. "Wait... why are you offering?"
She grinned and flopped down in the swivel chair next to you, crossing her legs. "The guy is smokin' hot," she whispered with a wink. "I just got a glimpse when I brought Fisher the computer cart, but..." she exhaled loudly and fanned her face. "Even with all the blood, you can tell he's a fox."
"Blood?!" you exclaimed, jogging around the nurse's desk, "why didn't you tell me?"
"He's stable, it's not-" Lily began, but you were already hustling down the hall. When you skidded to a stop outside room 504, you were relieved there wasn't a flurry of staff running in and out of the room, indicating whatever was waiting for you wasn't life threatening.
As you entered through the open door, you rapped two knuckles on the wood to announce your presence. Dr. Fisher, standing at the patient's bedside and blocking your view, glanced over his shoulder and nodded while you washed your hands. You heard him talking to a man with a deeper southern drawl than you were used to, and by the sound of it, he was in pain. You plucked two gloves from the box on the wall and snapped the latex on, turning around with a practiced smile right as Dr. Fisher introduced you by name.
Lily was right. Your eyes landed on a painfully good looking, dark haired man sitting up in the bed with one leg draped over the side, as if he was getting ready to bolt. You tried to not let your gaze linger, but the way his thighs stretched out his worn, bloody jeans and his shoulders filled out his ripped flannel held your attention longer than you expected. He first glanced over at you right when you noticed the laceration on his forearm and you went into autopilot.
You began to pull various instruments from a cabinet without instruction, already anticipating what the doctor would need before he began to rattle off requests, which you mentally jotted down and nodded in acknowledgement when he was finished.
"I'm gonna give you a local anesthetic and then clean and stitch this up. Are you allergic to anything, Mr. Miller?" Dr. Fisher asked.
"No," he said, his eyes still stuck on you as you worked. "Call me Joel," he added, his eyes flicking up to the doctor once he realized he was staring. Tommy smirked from the corner of the room and tucked his chin to his chest.
"Only thing he's allergic to is askin' for help," Tommy joked. You startled and glanced over your shoulder. Somehow you had missed the second man in the room when you first walked in. Joel scowled in his direction.
"Ignore my brother," Joel muttered with a roll of his eyes.
"Can you prep him and give him 20MLs of the local? I'll be right back, I have another patient waiting to get discharged," Dr. Fisher said to Joel, who nodded and lifted his leg onto the bed, resigning himself to a long night.
Your gaze drifted over his clothes, ruined by all the blood that had gushed from his arm. "This looks pretty nasty. What happened tonight, Joel?" you asked, using your typical distraction technique while you worked unwrapping instruments and lying them out on a tray. When he didn't answer right away, you met his gaze and smiled, assuming he was squeamish and doing to do your best to reassure him.
He blinked and cleared his throat.
"Sorry. Um, got hurt at work."
You frowned, your eyes roaming over his face now that you were closer and hoping he didn't notice the way you stared a moment too long at his soft looking lips. "What do you do that you're working so late?"
"I'm a contractor," he said, mesmerized by the way you effortlessly moved around, probably just going through the motions but to him, it looked so impressive. The monitor next to his bed beeped faster and he glared up at it, angry at the heart monitor for betraying him.
"Lots of things need to be built at midnight?" you teased, making him chuckle.
"I'm behind on a project and my daughter had a sleepover tonight so I figured I'd do a little extra work," he explained, wincing when he moved his injured arm.
You nodded, latching on to the new piece of information. You loved it when patients had kids. It was a great way to keep them talking and calm. But right as you were about to ask her name, the second man chimed in.
"Yeah, 'cause otherwise he'd be home alone," he said, making the both of you stop and stare at him. His eyes bounced back and forth between you both. "'Cause he's single," he added after a beat, making both you and Joel blush.
"Jesus, Tommy," Joel muttered under his breath, and you forced out a polite laugh before switching gears.
"Alright, let's see," you said, gently lifting his arm and peeling back the sleeve of his flannel. You made a face and Joel tensed.
"What is it?"
"I wish I had better news," you sighed, locking eyes with him. "I'm gonna have to cut the sleeve off this shirt," you said solemnly.
His face broke out into a huge smile, one that reached his beautiful brown eyes and creased his tanned skin, and you giggled before reaching for the scissors.
"It's alright, darlin'," he said, still smiling as you began to cut through the fabric, "ain't got no fashion sense, anyway."
"'Cause he's single," Tommy said again from across the room. Joel swiveled his head and mouthed something angrily in his direction but you just grinned and stayed focused, pulling the sleeve away and making sure not to brush up against his wound.
"Okay, Joel, how are you around needles?" you asked, turning your back to him and blocking his view while you prepped a syringe with local anesthetic. "Do I need to call someone in here to catch you if you faint?"
He scoffed. "Hell no, I'll be -" you turned around with the needle in your hand and he gulped, "-fine."
You eyed him carefully. "Are you sure?"
He nodded and looked up at the ceiling, so you decided to just make it as fast as possible. Cleaning the skin with some alcohol, you slid the needle into his arm near the laceration and injected the medicine. After, you pressed a piece of cotton against the injection site and hid the needle behind you on the tray.
"All done, you did great," you said, and he looked at you in surprise.
"That's it? Hardly felt a thing."
You smiled and shrugged. "I've been doing this a while," you said. You always loved when patients commented on how gentle you were. It made you feel proud and good at your rather thankless job.
"Yeah? How long?" he asked, watching as you pulled out another vial of medicine.
"Almost five years," you told him, filling another syringe and wiping an alcohol pad on his inner elbow.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's for the pain," you said, "it's mild but you might feel a little out of it for a couple hours. It will help you relax so the doctor can stitch you up."
He nodded and you quickly slipped the needle in and out, just like before.
"Okay, all done with needles, I promise," you told him, disposing of them both in a red sharps container bolted to the wall by the sink.
"Whoa," Joel said softly after a minute, and you looked up at him then smiled when you saw that familiar, spaced out look in his eyes.
"Feeling it?" you asked, and he slowly nodded.
"Reckon I am."
"That's good. Just try to relax, the doctor will be back soon," you said, turning your attention to the computer cart. You were typing in your notes and scanning the vials of medicine to log into Joel's chart when Tommy's phone rang.
"It's Maria, probably wonderin' what the hell's goin' on," Tommy told Joel as he stood up and headed for the door. "I'll be right back," he said right before you heard him answer the phone and walk out into the hallway for some privacy.
Joel's head rolled to the side and he gazed over at you, smiling like a fool at the way your eyebrows pinched together as you focused on whatever you were typing.
"You're real good at this," he mumbled. You glanced at him, taking a break from the computer, and smiled.
"Thank you."
"How long you been doin' this?"
You stifled your laughter and answered the question again. "Almost five years."
He nodded, completely unaware. His eyes looked glazed over and he gave you a lazy smile. "You're real pretty."
Even though you knew it was the drugs talking, your heart still skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks heat up.
"You must be feeling better, huh?" you joked, wrapping a blood pressure sleeve around his arm. He lightly took your wrist in his hand, making you pause and catch his eye. He looked so earnest and sincere that you almost believed him when he said, "it ain't the drugs. I mean it. Can't keep my eyes off you, darlin'."
Your mouth suddenly felt dry as the two of you silently assessed the other. You searched his face but all you could find was a raw vulnerability while he waited for you to say something. And you really wanted to be honest, but you knew it was unprofessional and you had no idea what was even allowed but you had to assume your job would be at risk if you said what you really wanted to say.
Fortunately, you didn't have to say anything at all because Dr. Fisher chose that moment to return, breezing into the room with his white coat fluttering behind him.
"How're you feeling, Joel?" he asked from the sink as he washed his hands. You stepped back and focused on the computer screen, still feeling the heat of Joel's gaze on your face as you typed.
"Much better," he said, slowly dragging his eyes away from you. Tommy reentered the room, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and dodging Dr. Fisher as he turned around to face Joel.
"That's good. Let's get you patched up and back home, how's that sound?" he said, and you abandoned the computer to stand at his side, your eyes cast down as you awaited the doctor's instructions.
Dr. Fisher worked quickly and had Joel's laceration closed up in under thirty minutes, the whole time checking in with him to make sure he didn't feel anything. You caught Joel staring at you more than once during the procedure and you had to bite back a grin, but each time he noticed and he smiled that same dazzling smile that reached his eyes.
Once the stitches were done, Joel - but mostly Tommy - listened to Dr. Fisher's instructions on how to keep it dry and clean and to follow up with his own practitioner the next business day to schedule an appointment. Then he left, bidding the brothers a good night after he explained you would wrap up the wound and process his discharge papers.
You were very gentle as you wrapped his arm, quietly asking if it was too tight or if anything hurt. He would shake his head and continue to just gaze adoringly at you while you worked, completely unbothered by his brother just a few feet away witnessing his utter captivation.
"Okay, Joel. Let's get you out of here," you sighed, turning back to the computer cart.
"Already?" he asked, and you had to hold back your laugh at the bewildered look on his face.
"It's a slow night, we were able to get you in and out much quicker than normal," you explained, hitting the print button on the computer screen.
"Well, but..." he trailed off, looking back and forth between you and Tommy as he struggled to find the right thing to say. "I'm single!" he practically shouted when you gave him a pen to sign his papers. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and Tommy laughed from his chair in the corner of the room.
"I know, your brother mentioned it a couple times," you replied as your face grew hot once again. "Um, can you just sign here, and-"
"Are you single?" he asked, cutting you off. You looked up from the papers to find his beautiful brown eyes all wide and hopeful, completely ignoring the clipboard in front of him.
"Yes," you finally answered, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
"Great!" he exclaimed, throwing his good arm up in the air with a huge grin. Tommy cleared his throat and stood up.
"I think what he's tryin' to do is ask for your number," he said. Joel nodded, not even sparing a glance in his brother's direction.
"Yeah, sorry," Joel said sheepishly, then he rubbed his face like he could make the brain fog dissipate. "Can I get your number? I'd love to take you out sometime."
Your heart was pounding in your chest now from excitement. You bit your lip and glanced over your shoulder at the open door before turning back to Joel.
"I don't know, I might get in trouble..." you began, and he quickly sat up in bed.
"I won't tell anyone," Joel said, and his voice was so serious that you couldn't help but laugh. Tommy grinned and pulled out his wallet.
"How 'bout this. What if I left Joel's business card, in case you ever needed a contractor?" Tommy offered, holding out the card between two fingers. You gingerly accepted and briefly glanced down at it. "That's his work number but this one is his cell," Tommy continued, pointing to each number respectively, "you're better off gettin' ahold of him on that one. Y'know, for any projects you might need done."
Joel gave Tommy the most grateful look. "I love you, Tommy."
"Alright, that's enough. I oughta get you back home," Tommy said with a crooked grin. You laughed and pocketed Joel's card, standing by in case he needed any assistance getting up. But before Joel and Tommy exited the room, Joel turned to you and reached out for your hand. You hesitated for a moment before stretching out your arm and allowing his thick fingers to wrap themselves around your hand.
"Thank you for saving my life," he told you, his tone deathly serious. You fought back a smile and instead gave him a firm nod.
"You're very welcome, Joel."
His business card stayed folded up in your scrubs pocket for a week, your fingers occasionally brushing up against it like a talisman as you worked.
You never told Lily about that night but you did try to sneakily look into the legality of potentially dating a former patient, but you got too nervous someone would see over your shoulder and didn't get very far.
One day, a fellow nurse who had been working at the hospital for nearly fifteen years made a comment about a patient saying something suggestive to a male doctor and she thought the doctor in question didn't handle it properly.
"What do you mean?"
"He laughed and said something along the lines of I'm too old for you," she had scoffed. "He should have shut it down right away. If the wrong person heard it, he could get into serious trouble."
That was all you needed to hear to put you off from the idea.
That evening, you took Joel's business card out of your pocket and threw it in the trash, then went to take a shower. But afterwards, when you had poured yourself a glass of wine to celebrate the start of three days in a row off from work, you found yourself hovering over the garbage and staring at the folded up piece of paper, sitting right on top of a napkin.
With a sigh, you plucked it out of the garbage and stuck it to your fridge, then forced yourself to leave the room.
There was nothing wrong with keeping the card if you weren't going to call. Right?
It pained you to go so close to the hospital on one of your well deserved days off, but you couldn't resist the chocolate croissants sold at a café around the corner. They were baked fresh daily and always served warm and after a grueling four days in a row at work, you felt you deserved a treat. So that was how you found yourself waiting at the counter for your usual order, surrounded by various professionals hurrying to grab their coffees before chaining themselves to a desk for the remainder of the day. It was busy, but the barista who usually took care of you made sure to prioritize your order, shooting you a quick wink before she slid your croissant and coffee across the counter. You mouthed thank you and turned to leave, bobbing and weaving through the crowd of people waiting for their drinks.
When you stepped outside, out of habit you glanced towards the hospital, then froze. You blinked a few times, your coffee halfway to your lips as you stared at the familiar looking man pacing back and forth on the sidewalk with his head angled toward the ground. You began to walk in his direction, squinting against the sun and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but it really was him.
"Joel?"
He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked, your eyes drifting around to see if he was with anybody.
"Huh?" he asked, then immediately shook his head, "yes, I mean... no, everythin's fine." He nervously jammed his hands into his pockets and shifted his weight. "I, uh, came to see you, actually," he said, glancing down at your clothes, noticing you weren't in your scrubs. "Are you workin'?"
You looked down at your jeans before meeting his gaze again. "No, I have the day off, I was just getting coffee," you jutted your thumb over your shoulder, back towards the café, and you realized how bizarre the conversation was so far. "Why are you here to see me?"
He gave you a nervous smile and looked away, watching as an ambulance veered noisily into the parking lot. "I came to apologize. 'Bout the other week. Tommy told me what I said and I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Wasn't my intention, I guess it was all the meds." He finally dragged his eyes back to you and watched as something flickered across your face.
"Oh," you managed to squeak out. Even though you assumed as much, it still stung to hear he didn't mean what he said. "It's fine. It didn't make me uncomfortable. It comes with the territory," you told him with a soft laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. He nodded and looked behind you, trying to think of something else to say but when the silence became too much, you took a step back.
"I should go, but it was nice to see you. I'm glad the arm-"
"Wait - uh," he scratched his beard and took a deep breath. "If I didn't make you uncomfortable, why didn't you call?"
You blinked rapidly and thought about it for a moment before frowning.
"I thought you said it was the drugs talking?" you countered, avoiding his question with one of your own.
"I lied."
"You lied?" you repeated, raising your eyebrows. He nodded.
"More like I panicked," he added, then raked his fingers through his hair with a dry laugh. "Shit, I'm sorry. I'm terrible at this, ain't I?"
You giggled and his face brightened at the sound.
"A little, but it's okay. It's cute," you told him, feeling your cheeks warm at your own admission. He grinned.
"Alright, then why didn't you call?" he asked again.
"I panicked," you replied, then after a pause, the both of you burst out laughing at exactly the same time.
"Goddamn, reckon we don't stand a chance, do we?" Joel said, tilting his head to the side, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling playfully.
"Well, I don't know about that. Why don't we find out?"
He immediately pulled out his phone.
"It's the least we could do. Y'know. For research."
"Research, huh?" but you couldn't keep the smile from tugging at your lips.
"Yeah. Can two panicky individuals who can't seem to properly flirt their way out of a paper bag make it work?"
"Sounds like a tagline for a terrible book," you teased while simultaneously snatching his phone out of his hand and typing your number into a new text. "How could I resist?"
"I promise this is where the cheesiness ends," he chuckled, pocketing his phone.
"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in that?"
Joel thought about it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Careful what you wish for, little lady, or else we'll be havin' a picnic in the park and watchin' the sunset for our first date."
You laughed heartily at that. "Pulling out all the cheesy stops?"
"Absolutely," Joel winked, making your heart flutter.
"Alright then. Do your worst," you said, a stupid grin still plastered across your face as you took a step back the way you came.
"I'm plannin' it all out already," he said, tapping the side of his head. You giggled and gave him a little wave goodbye before turning around and heading towards home.
Joel didn't waste any time.
He had texted you within an hour with just a link and nothing else. You clicked it and immediately grinned when a website to a paint and sip place in downtown Austin opened up.
You: starting off strong - Painting with a Twist?
Joel: Get it? A twist? Because they serve alcohol there.
You laughed out loud alone in your living room. You thought the meds made him funny but you were delighted to discover he was still just as funny all on his own.
You: I got it, thanks. Very cheesy :)
Joel: So when can I take you? I want to see you paint the next greatest masterpiece.
You: I'm off the next two days and then I work the following four
Joel: You feel up for it tomorrow night? Or is that too soon?
You: tomorrow is great!
Joel: Looking forward to it, little lady.
To keep up with the cheesy theme, Joel picked you up the next evening with a singular red rose, which he had hidden behind his back so he could reveal it to you with a flourish, immediately making you laugh. He offered his arm as he led you down the driveway to his truck while commenting something about the weather but you weren't entirely certain because you couldn't stop staring at his hair, which was slicked back a bit since the last time you saw him and the longer you stared, you began to think he might have trimmed his beard, as well. You bit back your smile at the endearing effort he was putting into your date while trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that still wondered if this was going to get you in trouble at work.
When you arrived at the painting studio, you quickly realized the two of you were the youngest ones there, and not only that but Joel was the only man there. You stifled your laughter as you grabbed a couple drinks and picked your seats. Once behind the safety of your easels, you cupped your hand over your mouth and giggled into your palm. Joel chuckled and ducked down so nobody would overhear him.
"Am I allowed to be here?"
You began to laugh even harder, drawing the attention from some of the older women. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes and you shook your head.
"I don't know!" you wheezed when you finally got ahold of yourself. You took a deep breath and wiped your eye. "You couldn't have planned this any better." He laughed and rubbed his palm over his mouth when he began to get looks.
The painting that evening was a bouquet of white hydrangeas in a wide vase. Simple enough, or so you both thought. It became quickly apparent that Joel didn't have a creative bone in his body, and while you thought you weren't much better, when you glanced over at his and noticed his vase and flowers were beginning to take on a decidedly more phallic shape, you completely lost it.
He grinned when you had to drop your paintbrush so you could clutch your stomach while you doubled over, doing your best to keep as quiet as possible, but you were failing miserably. A lady nearby cleared her throat to convey her irritation so you slid down from your stool and told Joel you would be right back, then disappeared into the bathroom to collect yourself. By the time you emerged, the teacher who was leading the class had jumped in to try and help Joel create more distinguishable flowers, but it appeared to be a lost cause.
Once the class was over, the teacher went around to take pictures of everyone holding up their paintings with the people they came with that evening. When she got to you, Joel wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you close. Right before she took the picture, you leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to flush and his smile to reach his eyes.
When he dropped you off at home, he walked you to the door.
"So I was thinkin' for our second date we can either do bowling or trivia night," he said with a little smile. You cocked your head to the side as you thought about it.
"Both are excellent options. You can tell a lot about somebody by the way they handle winning and losing," you mused. He grinned and leaned his shoulder against your doorframe as he gazed down at you, waiting for you to decide. "Let's do bowling," you finally said. He gave a firm nod and straightened up.
"Bowling it is."
"After tomorrow, I work four nights in a row," you reminded him.
He shrugged. "So let's do it tomorrow."
"Really?" you asked, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Are you sure? What about your daughter?"
"I'm sure Tommy can watch her. And even if he can't, she's old enough now to stay on her own for a few hours."
You nodded and glanced down at your hands, clutching your painting at your side.
"What does she think about you dating?" you asked nervously, chewing on the inside of your cheek and glancing back up at him.
"She's all for it. She's fourteen now, practically kicks me outta the house every chance she gets," he said with a chuckle.
You nodded again and tried to sound casual when you asked, "are you seeing anybody else, or..." You trailed off as you felt your face warm up, feeling slightly vulnerable, but he quickly put your mind at ease. He stepped forward and pinched your chin between his fingers, making you look up at him through your eyelashes.
"No," he said softly, "are you?"
You shook your head slightly, not wanting to lose his touch just yet. "No."
He smiled. "Good."
He tilted your face up a bit more then swooped down to press a gentle kiss against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine even though it was rather innocent.
"I'll see you tomorrow, little lady," he murmured before dropping his hand from your chin and taking a step back. You bit your lip and smiled.
"Can't wait."
While Joel wasn't a very good painter, he turned out to be a rather good bowler. Better than you, at least, which wasn't saying much. So after a couple beers, you flirtatiously asked him to help you with your form, to which he eagerly agreed. He walked you up to the lane and stood behind you, squaring your shoulders and planting your feet just so while the bowling ball dangled at your side with a stupid grin on your face.
"Alright, now you're gonna wanna swing this leg back," he said, tucking his chin into your shoulder and reaching down to tap the front of your thigh. You giggled as his beard tickled your skin, which just caused him to do it even more. You laughed harder and tried to squirm away but he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and pulled you back against him, nuzzling into your neck enthusiastically. You twisted your head towards him, trying to protect your neck, but it was no use, so instead you pressed your lips against his, finally stopping his assault. Both of you were well aware of the public setting, surrounded by families, so you fought the urge to deepen the kiss but you did linger a little longer than was necessary before breaking away with a sigh. He smiled down at you, his cheeks a little pink, either from the alcohol or the public display of affection.
"I like you," he said earnestly.
"I like you, too," you whispered, watching the way his eyes sparkled. Even if it was only two dates, you could tell the connection you had was strong. You had to make it your mission to figure out the policy at work before things went any further.
"Hey, Lily," you said the next day, getting the other nurse's attention.
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever dated anyone from here?" you asked as quietly as you could. She grinned and leaned against the counter.
"Oh, yeah. A few," she said mischievously before glancing around and leaning forward. "I went on a few dates with Dr. Adams last year. When I first started, I was hanging out with Richie, the pharmacist downstairs, but I swear when I found out he was married I broke it off. I felt bad about that one," she said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "Oh! Then there was that one resident who worked here for a few months... Mike? He was tall with brown hair and had that tattoo-"
"No, I mean like, patients?" you tried again, and she pursed her lips.
"I've had a few ask me out but I never took them up on it. Why?"
"No reason," you said quickly, "but if you were interested, could you? Like, would we get fired or get our license revoked or something?"
She frowned and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Once a patient is discharged, it doesn't matter. If we worked in a doctor's office and it was a regular patient, that would probably be a different story, but we see so many people in the ER it's impossible to enforce something like that."
You breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled. "That's great."
She grinned and raised an eyebrow. "So are you gonna spill or what?"
"Me?" you squeaked, shaking your head innocently but Lily saw right through you.
"Who are you seeing?" she pressed, smacking her gum between her teeth. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the heat from reaching your cheeks.
"Remember that guy last week? The fox with the arm laceration in 504?"
Lily gasped. "Shut the fuck up!"
You smirked and nodded. "We've just been on two dates, nothing serious, but before I continued to see him I wanted to make sure I wouldn't get in trouble."
"I'm so jealous!" she groaned, stomping her feet dramatically. You laughed and turned back to your computer. You began to get back to the chart in front of you but she pulled up a chair and got a little closer so nobody would overhear. "How is he in bed?"
You gave her a look. "We haven't slept together. Did you not hear me say we've only been on two dates?"
She scoffed and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "That doesn't mean anything. If I went on two dates with a man like that, I wouldn't waste any time climbing him like a tree."
You both dissolved into a fit of giggles before the phone rang, warning you to get an exam room ready for a broken arm.
Waiting four days to see Joel again was a lot harder than you expected, but lucky for you, on your last day, Joel surprised you at work with a coffee and chocolate croissant from the café you liked.
"You remembered!" you exclaimed when you opened the bag. He shrugged sheepishly but you could tell he was pleased with your reaction.
"'Course I remembered," he said, glancing around when Lily walked into the waiting room to call back a patient. Her eyes locked on the two of you and she gave you an exaggerated wink before leading an elderly man to the back. Joel grinned and looked at you.
"Friend of yours?"
"Unfortunately," you said sarcastically, making him smile. You glanced down at your watch and made a face. "I'm so sorry, I gotta get going but this was so sweet of you," you said, motioning towards your coffee and pastry.
"I just really wanted to see you again," he admitted, "it was a completely selfish move."
You giggled. "Well, thank you for the selfish coffee and treat."
"You're welcome. Still on for tomorrow night?" he asked, and you nodded.
"Picnic and stargazing. You're really checking things off that cheesy date list," you said with a laugh.
"You asked for it, don't you forget now," he replied before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss.
After he left, you made your way back to the nurse's station so you could deposit your goodies and pull up the next chart.
"Third date tomorrow?" Lily asked, rounding the desk. You nodded.
"Yep," you answered distractedly, reading the chart of a young boy with a minor head injury from a fall.
"You know what typically happens on the third date?"
You felt your skin heat up at the insinuation. "I'm going to regret telling you about him, aren't I?"
"Sure are. That was so close to being me, I'll never get over it."
You laughed and shook your head, leaving her question unanswered as you made your way back to the waiting room.
As it turned out, a picnic and stargazing was incredibly romantic. Joel packed a simple meal: some cold pasta in olive oil, a light salad and some fruit. He had found a spot off a highway that overlooked downtown Austin, which was by far the cheesiest part of the date.
"Did you used to take girls here back in high school or something?" you teased as you sat on the hood of his truck, leaning against the windshield so you could see the stars.
"Me? Never. I was very respectable in high school. Never got into trouble, never skipped class and definitely never took the captain of the cheerleading squad up here after prom," he said with a grin. You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.
"You're trouble."
"Yeah, but you like it," he said, turning his head to the side so he could look at you. You tried to give him a stern look but you weren't selling it in the slightest.
"Okay, maybe I do," you admitted.
He smiled and laced his fingers together with yours, dragging his thumb over your knuckles for a minute, staring at your entwined hands while you continued to gaze upwards, the stars twinkling in the nearly clear, black sky.
"Can I tell you somethin' without you thinkin' I'm crazy?"
You rolled your head to look at him, your first instinct to tease him but his soft tone made you stop. "Sure."
"I keep waitin' to wake up or the other shoe to drop or whatever," he said, his gaze studying your face. "You just seem too good to be true," he added with a little grin.
"That's funny, I could say the same about you," you told him, but he shook his head.
"Nah, I mean it. How don't you already got a boyfriend?"
You sighed and looked back up at the sky. "I don't know. It's always been a little tough with my work schedule. I work so many overnights and it's hard for guys to understand that and work around it. Eventually things just... die off because I never get a chance to spend any real time with anyone."
He frowned and inched a little closer. "Their loss," he said. You turned to smile at him.
"You're not like that, though."
He shrugged. "I get it. I'm no stranger to havin' a busy schedule. I'm always haulin' Sarah 'round town to soccer games or friends' houses or after school activities. Don't bother me none."
You squeezed his hand affectionately before impulsively leaning over and pressing your lips against his. You could feel his surprise but he quickly reacted and brought a hand up to cup your face. He licked at the seam of your lips and you smiled before opening your mouth a fraction, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
The whole drive back to your place had you thinking about Lily's comment from the day before, and the closer and closer you got to home, the more nervous you felt.
When he walked you up to your door and kissed you goodnight, you reached up to hold the back of his neck, keeping him close. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you let out a small moan. He grabbed your hip and began kissing you harder, pushing you up against your door and sliding his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, stroking your skin there. You tipped your head back, breaking the kiss, both of you panting for air.
"Do you want to come inside?" you asked nervously. His gaze darkened and he licked his lips, but then you saw a tortured look flicker across his face.
"I can't," he said, sounding almost like it pained him to utter the words. "I can't leave Sarah alone overnight," he explained, taking a step back and rubbing his palms over his face. He dropped them to the side and you quickly blinked the disappointment from your eyes.
"It's okay, I understand," you told him, then reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly.
"I promise, I really wanna come inside," he told you.
"I know," you said, "maybe next time."
He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. "Yeah, next time."
But it wouldn't be the next time. Or the time after that. Understandably so, Joel was waiting for a night where Sarah was at a sleepover to coincide with one of your free nights, explaining that he felt uncomfortable letting her know he wouldn't be coming home.
"Does she know about us?" you asked him one night.
"'Course she does. But it's just... awkward. At her age, she can read between the lines, y'know?"
"I get it," you had told him, trying to imagine what it would be like for you if at fourteen, your dad had essentially announced he wouldn't be home that night because he was going to get laid.
It made sense, but it didn't stop both of you from practically swallowing each other whole every chance you got, all your pent up sexual tension bubbling just under the surface with every glance and touch.
And finally, nearly two months into seeing each other, the stars aligned. Sarah was going on a school field trip to The Alamo, which coincidentally was scheduled on one of your rare weekends off.
Joel had every intention of taking you out to dinner and a movie, but when you opened the door and locked eyes, suddenly take out and a shitty movie on TV sounded much better.
You practically dragged him to your bedroom while shedding your clothes as quickly as you could, desperation rolling off both of you in waves as you fell into bed.
"Beautiful girl," Joel mumbled against your throat, sweat coating your skin as your writhed underneath him, his thick length slowly dragging in and out, making sure you felt every inch of him. "Wanted this for so long," he continued, then groaned when you clenched around him. "Fuck, you're so wet, baby," he whispered when your slick began to spread over his thighs.
"Only for you," you managed to say, too focused on how your body thrummed with anticipation as you got closer and closer to your release.
"Yeah, that's right," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "All for me."
When you came, you whimpered his name into his shoulder, clutching onto him as the heat of your orgasm spread through every vein, reaching every inch of you. He followed shortly behind with a guttural moan muffled by his mouth pressing feverishly against yours, then you felt his muscles relax under your fingertips and his body sag. You pulled him down and he nuzzled against your throat as he fought for air, still nestled deep between your legs.
Neither of you felt much like leaving the bed, so you didn't. You ordered Chinese food takeout and watched some action movie you didn't really care for but it didn't matter because it primarily served as background noise while you pretended to fight over shrimp lo mein and shared an egg roll, the cartons spread out over your nightstands and your plates balancing in your hands.
You fell asleep before the movie ended but when you woke the next morning, tucked safely into Joel's side, the cartons of food were gone and the TV was off. You pressed a little kiss against his chest, silently thanking him for taking care of everything while you slept, but the movement made him stir. He sleepily opened his eyes, then a lazy smile spread across his face when he saw you already looking up at him.
"Mornin', little lady," he said, voice all rough and gravelly. You felt a pull in your lower stomach at the sound.
"Morning," you mumbled, pressing another kiss in the same spot.
Joel sighed and wrapped both arms around you, tugging you even closer and kissing the top of your head.
"I want you to meet Sarah."
He felt your muscles tense under his hands and then you slowly tipped your chin up to look him in the eye.
"Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Only if you wanna," he said quickly, but you shook your head and grinned.
"Y-yeah, I would love to, of course," you told him.
He planted a kiss on your lips, both your mouths curving into smiles.
"Good. Then it's settled. My two best girls are gonna meet," he said, sliding out from under the sheets to stand. You bit your lip, adoring the way he referred to you as one of his girls. "She's gonna love you. How 'bout a baseball game or the fair?" he offered, slipping his boxers on.
"Both sound great," you said dreamily, watching him saunter out of your bedroom. And as you ate breakfast across your kitchen table, sharing little smiles over eggs and toast, you couldn't help but feel hopeful and excited for what your future held together.
#joel miller tlou#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel x reader#the last of us au#pedro pascal character#joel miller one shot
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" i will never be too mad to take care of you "
pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader
"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"
warnings : language , descriptions of a wound , blood
word count : 0.5 k
a/n : last minute i actually decided to flip jeonghan's and joshua's prompt , we'll see if i regret it
Your eyes follow Jeonghan carefully, tracking his movements throughout the kitchen. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't, he simply continues to mull about his business. Completely ignoring your presence and the tension that hangs heavily in the air as a result of your recent argument.
It wasn't the biggest fight you've ever had, but it was surely up there. In the heat of it, you said some things you didn't mean, things that seemed to hit Jeonghan in just the right spot to set him off. You felt bad at first. The moment tears began to gather in his eyes and his face dropped you felt the urge to apologize. But then he opened his mouth and shot some choice words back at you in a way that hit just as hard. All thoughts of talking it out ceased then and there, and so ensued the ongoing silence between you two.
Even just his lingering presence as you try to prepare dinner has you on edge. So much so, that you focus all your attention on what he's doing and what he could be thinking rather than the onion you're chopping up. With your mind split, it only takes a few seconds before you feel the knife slice into your hand. It clatters to the ground as you cry out and cradle your injured hand.
"Ah– shit!"
Jeonghan is at your side in half a second, maybe less. Reaching out to take hold of your hand so he can examine it. "What happened?" His voice is urgent, but his grip is gentle as he hovers over the bleeding wound.
"Ow– I'm fine, it's fine—"
"No, you're not. Just take a seat, I'll be back in a second." He's gone and back in under a minute, the first aid kit from the upstairs bathroom tucked under his arm. You sit in the nearest chair and Jeonghan kneels in front, delicately taking your hand into his palm.
It stays silent as he cleans around the cut and begins to tenderly wrap the fluffy white gauze around your hand. "It looks pretty deep. I think it'd be best if we go to the emergency room and have it looked at, I can drive."
"Why?" The word slips out before you can stop it.
Jeonghan gives you a funny look. "Um, because you might need stitches?"
"No. I meant why do you care?" Tears brim at your lashes and you can feel the tidal wave of pent-up emotions ready to crash down. "I said some really awful things. You should be mad right now, not helping me—"
"Woah woah woah, hey," He soothes. His palm softly cups your face while the other rests on your knee, squeezing it. "I will never be too mad to take care of you." The sincerity in his sparkling gaze never falters.
"I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I promise I didn't mean what I said."
"I know," he smiles, rising to his feet to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry as well. We can talk about it once you're better."
#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan oneshot#yoon jeonghan oneshot#jeonghan fanfic#yoong jeonghan fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you#jeonghan x you#yoon jeonghan x you#seventeen imagine#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#jeonghan angst#jeonghan fluff#seventeen fic#svt scenarios
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the way you bend, the way you break | Mob!Lando
Summary: You’re one of the housekeepers who work at one of his many holiday homes. Given the nature of his ‘job’, Lando is never in one place for too long. Which means that he comes back to this house quite a few times during the year. Things were normal in the beginning, but in time Lando began taking an interest in you. It was benign at the start – flirty comments here and there, stolen glances, and whatnot. You ignored most of it, thinking it was nothing. But then you both crossed a line, and consequently, you’ve had to hide a secret from him for months while he was gone. But now he’s back, abruptly. He would do anything, you realised, to get what he wants. And this time he wants what’s always been his.
Themes: dark!lando, smut, possessive!lando, housekeeper!reader, explicit language, breeding kink, pregnant!reader
He wasn’t supposed to be back just yet.
Your heart raced as you watched his car come to a stop right outside the house. He shouldn’t be here. He left just about two months ago. He shouldn’t be back for another two months or so.
On the gravel, he carelessly brought his car to a stop as if he couldn’t be bothered to even properly park his ridiculously expensive classic car. You were sure this one would have some name you couldn’t pronounce as well. Just like the rest of them which filled the garage. Unused, but well taken care of.
You were currently peeking from a window in the east wing. You could get a clear view of him from here, without him ever noticing that you were watching. So you remained standing there, at the window, heart pounding and well aware that the rest of the staff were running around doing last minute adjustments to the mostly spotlessly clean house now that the master of the house was back, unannounced.
Usually he called beforehand, he never just showed up so suddenly in the three years that you’d been working for him. This would be the first time.
You watched him as he got out of his car, no luggage or anything – he had everything he could ever need here, and you knew because you were part of the staff who were responsible for the East wing where his personal bedroom and office were located. A shiver went through you as you thought of the bedroom.
You watched how Lando made his way to the front steps of his house. You already knew there would be a small group of staff there to welcome him back for the third time this year. Last time he was here for a few weeks was just over two months ago. And now he was back again.
Why? Your heart raced. Lando always carried an air of danger around him. It was one of the things which lured you in.
No one ever questioned or cared what he did for work. You knew, the rumours and his reputation preceded him. But he paid you all too well for any of you to question him. Or even be bothered by the immorality of what he did, or how bad of a man he was.
Besides, being from a small nearby town, and it being all that you’d ever known, this job was like stepping into a foreign world. A world of grandeur, and garages more spacious than your family home. A world of gatsby-esque parties, and expensive cars. A world of luxurious homes, and hallways with multiple chandeliers which made you feel like a princess anytime you walked down them. Manicured lawns with Greek gods’ statues and a whole lake in the backyard. This house was tucked away in a quiet corner of the world, situated at the foot of green, foggy hills.
He was from another world. He felt like a novelty. Like an opulent vice. And he was so easy to get addicted to. The first time he touched you–
“What are you doing just standing there?” One of the older housekeepers chided from behind. “Go make sure the master bedroom has enough fresh towels! And make sure the pillowcases are…” She listed all the things you needed to get done in just a few minutes before he made his way up here.
You nodded, moved away from the window and quickly secured your white apron around your waist. You took a quick glance at your appearance in the nearby mirror. White-collared black dress and now the apron. You sighed, before rushing into his bedroom immediately to get started.
You swapped the old towels for freshly washed ones. You made sure the bed was nice and perfect. You were in the middle of making the pillows look soft and plump when one of your colleagues walked into the room.
You had your back to them, but you said, “I’m almost done here!”
Then you heard a familiar chuckle, “Well, good. ‘Cause I missed my favourite girl.”
Your eyes widened as you turned around. And there he was. Standing in front of the grand, and now shut, bedroom door. Seeing him after so many weeks always made your heart skip a beat or two. But it was different this time. Normally you’d rush into his arms and let him hold you but…
You just stood there this time, by his large canopy bed. You took him in for a moment. White shirt with buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbow, dark trousers, expensive shoes. A watch that probably cost half as much as this mansion on his wrist. His messy, curly hair and those pretty eyes. He looked like a dream. A dangerous dream.
“Hi,” You murmured as he walked towards you. You stood there, frozen, as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his warm embrace. You couldn’t help but sigh at the familiarity of his hug, his touch, his scent. Over the past couple of years, you’d spent countless nights wrapped in these arms. In this very room, on this bed. Countless hours you’d spent moaning his name all night, sighing and whining in pleasure, sometimes till the sun came up.
The memories came flooding in, triggered by one single hug.
“I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He whispered against your forehead, before pulling away to look at you. He smiled before leaning in for a proper kiss.
And for the first time in the couple of years that you’d known him, you gently dodged his kiss. You felt him tense up the moment you turned your face just slightly so he missed your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth instead. His arms around you tightened just a little.
“Hey,” He said, his mouth brushing against your skin. “I haven’t seen you in so long. Give me a kiss.” He tried again, and you moved again, avoiding his kiss for a second time. Lando frowned. “What’s wrong?” He refused to let go of you, staring deep into your eyes with his irresistible ones.
“No– nothing.” You sighed, carefully untangling yourself from his embrace. “It’s just, it’s early and someone might just come in to, you know, check if you have everything you need and… we might get caught.” You avoided his eyes as you put some distance between you and him.
“But–,”
You cut him off quickly. “I should go. We didn’t know you were coming, and the kitchen staff might need help. I also have to, uh…” You tried to find something, anything, “To bring you more towels.” You started to leave but he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into his chest, not letting go this time.
“There’s plenty of people to help in the kitchen. Plus there’s enough towels here for ten people.” He stared at you like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t. “Stay with me for a bit. I miss you.”
You tried to find some excuse again. “I really shouldn’t be here. They’ll notice.”
He nodded once, looking like it pained him to not argue any further. “Fine. I will see you tonight then.”
Tonight. He said it so easily. Why wouldn’t he? It had become a routine, hadn’t it? While the rest of the staff members made their way home in the evenings, you’d always stay back with him whenever he was here. Spend the night in his bed, in his arms. And you’d get up extra early each morning, right before your colleagues came in. You’d lie to everyone, pretending as if you were the last one to leave and the first one to come here each day.
But not tonight.
—
It was late and the sun had already set but it wasn’t too dark yet as you made your way home. You didn’t stay tonight. You couldn’t.
And when you were halfway home, your phone rang. You knew without looking that it must be him. So you slowed down enough to let your colleagues who were walking behind you to pass you, so you could answer the call.
“Hey.”
“Where the hell are you?” He asked, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. You could already picture him. He must be in his room, drink in his hand as he lounged on some sofa. He must have that bored look on his pretty face.
But the accusation in his tone… You were prepared for it this time. “I really have to go home tonight. My mom isn’t feeling too well. And it gets hard for dad to manage the farm alone so I have to help out.”
“Oh.” He said after a long pause. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You tried your hardest to sound as cheery as possible even when you weren’t. “Bye.”
“Baby, wait I–,”
You hung up on him. Shit.
—
You didn’t see him the next day. In fact, you did everything you could to avoid him as much as possible.
But given you worked in the wing where his bedroom was, you knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him forever. And by midday, he managed to corner you just as you were leaving the linen closet at the end of the least used hallway in the gigantic house.
You barely processed it as it happened. But one moment you were done with replacing the clean linen inside the closet and turned to leave, and the next Lando was there. Shoving you back inside the closet and shutting the door behind him as he caged you in between himself and the shelves.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He asked, clearly not happy.
You looked behind him, at the closet door. There were no locks of course. So if anyone were to just open it, you were finished.
“Stop looking at that fucking door.” He snarled. “Look at me.”
You did. “I– we shouldn’t do this. If someone–,”
He cut you off. “Let me worry about that. What you need to do is use that pretty little mouth and tell me why the fuck have you been avoiding me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He leaned closer, causing you to press your back further into the shelves. “First you hung up on me last night and now you’ve managed to avoid me all morning.” He frowned, lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke. “Start talking, my darling.” He sounded menacing. “Or so help me god, I’ll cause such a scene and–,”
“No!” You let out a frustrated breath. “I’m not avoiding you.” You lied. “I was just truly busy this morning. And last night I really had to go home because my dad wasn’t doing too well and–,”
“Dad?” He questioned, stopping your rambling. “I thought you said your mom wasn’t well.” His body tensed up again. His hands tightening their grip where they held on to your waist.
Caught. Still you lied some more, “Well, they’re both a little under the weather.”
He was quiet. And your heart pounded. You waited for him to buy whatever bullshit you’d been trying to get him to believe.
“I see.” He said, a little too calm. Then he sighed and his lips found your neck, his mouth moving ravenously across your skin. “I miss you.” He sounded so sincere you almost gave in. “Fucking missed having you in my arms, my bed. I miss being inside you,” He murmured against your skin. “Don’t you miss me, baby?”
You sighed. Just one more minute, you promised yourself. One more minute of this and then you’d push him away. “I do.” You whispered.
“Then why are you treating me like I’m some cheap whore you no longer want around, huh?”
You almost chuckled. “I’m not, it’s–,”
“Shut up.” He sounded like he was pouting too. “I want you.”
You hadn’t realised that his hands had found themselves under your dress. His fingers, about to reach into your underwear and touch you. Fuck… it was so easy to just want to give in and let him make you feel good. Because he always did. He always left you satisfied. But you couldn’t.
“Lando.” You warned, pushing his hands away. “We can’t.”
It happened in an instant. He switched from being nice and calm, to his hand being wrapped around your throat. And for the first time, your heart skipped a beat out of fear. Fear of this unknown, unseen side of him.
His fingers tightened around your neck, his mouth brushing against your lips as he spoke. “Is it someone else?” He accused. “Did you find someone else while I was gone? Hmm? Some useless fucking boy in that little town of yours?”
“No.” You defended yourself quickly.
He pressed his body even more into yours. As if reminding you how it feels to be under him, with his body weight pressing onto you. “Then why the fuck are you denying me what’s mine?” His other hand meanwhile, found its way into your underwear again. “This is mine.” He murmured, cupping you in between your legs. “You understand? This cunt is mine. And I will fuck it whenever I want.”
You couldn’t resist anymore, so you stopped fighting him the moment you felt his fingers sliding inside you. You tried your hardest not to moan too loudly as he finger-fucked you expertly. Like he knew your body too well. He did.
His mouth left kisses all over your face, your neck, up till your ear where he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine.”
You gasped when you felt his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers slid in and out of you. Your wetness allowing his hand to just glide all over your folds, making you shiver in pleasure. “I’m yours.” You admitted, spreading your thighs even more to let him touch you.
The air around you felt hotter. And you lost all coherent thoughts when he brought you right to the edge and… then pulled away.
You were gasping for air as you watched him in disbelief, ready to beg for him to touch you again because you were close… so damn close. And he’d always been such a generous, giving lover. So what–
“You’ve been a bad girl lately. You don’t get to come that easily.”
And without anything else said, he turned and left the linen closet. Leaving you gasping for air, breathing heavily, with your body tingling and throbbing with need.
—
You didn’t see him for the next couple of days. You didn’t dare to ask your colleagues if they knew where he went either. All you knew was that he came home late at night – the dishes in the sink, clothes scattered around his bedroom, and empty whiskey glasses in his office meant that he did come home at some point. But then he disappeared in the mornings and didn’t show up all day.
That happened continuously for three days before you saw him again.
One evening, you noticed everyone around the house just wasn't there. It was still early to go home but the house was too quiet so you went to investigate. And you found no one. None of your colleagues. None of the kitchen staff. The security guards were there, as always, stationed just outside the house so you asked them.
“Where’s everyone?”
One of them replied, “Boss asked everyone to go home early for the weekend.”
Oh? “No one told me.” You murmured under your breath. You didn’t think the guards heard but apparently they did.
Another one of them responded, “Not you, miss. He asked us to make sure you were here when he got back.”
Oh. “Back from where?” You asked.
The two guards shrugged in a ‘We’re not exactly supposed to tell you’ way.
So you went back into the house, worried. You paced around in the foyer before you decided to move upstairs, to the East wing. Then you paced some more, arranging and rearranging unnecessary stuff in the linen closet. It bothered you, the closet. It had been days since you’d been in here with him.
You were in the middle of reliving the memories of the other day when you heard footsteps out in the hallway. That must be him, you figured. So you stepped out of the closet and saw him at the other end of the hallway.
The chandeliers lit up the otherwise dark hallway. Dark frames, gilded mirrors, and Lando at the end of it, looking like the hero of some gothic novel. He was too far for you to read the expression on his face. But as he slowly made his way closer to where you stood, your own smile disappeared when you noted the grave look on his face. Like anger, and betrayal all in one.
“Lando?”
He kept walking closer, slower. “How long did you think you were gonna keep it from me?”
You froze. “What?” Your voice sounded shaky and vulnerable. You could already feel the tears gathering at your waterline. There’s no way he knows, right? How would he know? You hadn’t told anyone.
He chuckled, not an ounce of humour on his face. “Don’t act stupid.”
“I can explain.”
He shook his head, coming to a stop right in front of you. He looked like it was taking him a lot to keep whatever it was he felt contained. “Oh, you will.” His voice was… colder than ever. Bitter. Angry.
So you did the only thing your instinct told you to do in the face of a man of his magnitude. You ran.
Or at least tried to.
Lando scoffed before chasing you. Catching you was so easy. In less than a few seconds he had you in his arms and was dragging you all the way to his bedroom.
“Stop this shit!”
“I’m sorry.” You pleaded. “I wanted to tell you, I really did.” You had tears streaming down your face as you let him lead you to his room. “But I didn’t know how. I was scared of how you’d–,”
He cut you off by pushing you onto his bed. “Scared that I would what?” He barked in your face as he pinned you down on his bed. One hand grabbed your wrists in place while the other slowly slid down your squirming body. “I should have you over my knee and spank you until you cry.” He stared deep into your eyes as his hand came to a stop over your lower abdomen. The warmth of his hand reaching your skin even through the apron and the dress. “But I don’t wanna hurt you,” He paused, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against your belly, “Or my baby.” He whispered, looking down to where his hand touched you.
Him saying it made it all too real. And you couldn’t stop the hot tears from running down your face. Him saying it out loud made it serious. Inescapable.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again, with the same accusatory tone. “It’s mine.” He said, reminding you. “You’re mine. So why didn’t you tell me?”
You didn’t have an answer for him. Just more tears.
“I had to ask around these past couple of days, you know? I asked everyone here and your friends in town and all they told me was that you’d been constantly sick for about two months now.” He scoffed. “Then I found the doctor you went to, had to have her at gunpoint just so she’d show me your file. Apparently you’re about twelve weeks along. And you’ve known for well over a month.” He brought his face closer to yours, grip tightening on your wrists.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, sniffling.
“Sorry?” He mocked, scoffing. “This is where it happened, didn’t it? Last time I was here we didn’t use any protection so that must be it, hmm?” He leaned in and whispered, “I came inside you over and over that last night before I left, remember? It was raining hard, there was a thunderstorm,” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “And you were so scared I had to fuck you to sleep, remember that, baby?”
His knee had found itself in between your legs, and you’d been mindlessly grinding against it. He looked down and caught your hips moving against his leg and he chuckled. Then his smirk disappeared.
“Were you gonna keep lying to me?” He asked. “I spoke with your friends and one of them reluctantly told me that you’d been talking about wanting to get away from here. To go somewhere new, out of this little town.” He tightened his grip on your wrists so much that you yelped in pain. “Did you mean to leave me in the dark? Were you just gonna take my kid and leave? Without telling me?” He taunted. “Did you think you could leave me?” He sounded menacing. “Did you think I would hesitate for even a moment before I leave a fucking bloodbath in my wake as I hunt you down, baby?”
You sighed in frustration even though his voice made you shiver in nervousness. “I did mean to tell you. I didn’t know you would just show up out of nowhere,” You sniffled. “I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t know how to handle all of this.”
“Prepared?” He sneered. “You’re my woman, and that growing inside you is my kid. What’s there to be prepared for before telling me? I had the right to know!”
You couldn’t help but sneer right back at him, raising your voice a little, “I wasn’t even sure if you’d want this with me!”
He let his body weight drop down onto you. His hand moving from your abdomen to your neck. “I’m so fucking angry at you right now. But I fucking love you and it’s pissing me off that you’d even think like that.”
“Please,” You begged. “I was so scared. And if people found out that you and I–,”
He cut you off with a bruising kiss. His hands let go of you for a moment only to get rid of all that you were wearing as quickly as he could before holding you close to him again. His slight stubble felt rough against your mouth but you didn’t mind. You’d missed this. Missed him.
He kissed his way down, toying with your breasts, occasionally rolling and pinching your nipples, making you arch your back off the bed as you cried out louder than he expected.
That made him look up and ask, “Are they extra sensitive?”
You nodded. He smirked, and continued anyway. Making you whine and cry out as he kept kissing down your body until he knelt in between your legs. He gently kissed your inner thighs, “You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, “And all mine.” He murmured, looking up at you. “I love you.” He said. “I want this, all of this with you. You hear me?”
Another tear fell down your face. You nodded.
Then he looked down. “And I love you as well.” He murmured against your belly, pressing his face against it, leaving soft kisses all over. “When will you start showing?” He asked.
“In a few more weeks maybe.” You answered.
You could feel him smiling against your skin at the sound of that as he placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs.
You could feel his warm breath hit your wet skin as he brought his mouth closer to you. You moaned when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. You felt your heart flutter as a familiar warmth washed over you. You’d missed him so much it was crazy.
Your hand immediately flew to his curly hair, and you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning another moan out of you.
“You’re gonna be such a good mom to my kids, you know that?” He said, before going back to eating you out eagerly.
Kids? Plural?
“Kids?” You asked.
Lando looked up at you again at the same time as you looked down, and you saw the pure hunger in his eyes. “Come on, baby. Did you think we weren’t gonna have more?” You squirmed at the thought of that. He noticed, and smirked. “I’ll come inside you again and again until we have a little army of our own running around.”
Your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled as you felt his tongue fucking you gently. He secured his arms around your thighs and pushed you further into his mouth, making you cry out of pleasure. And with a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you coming undone, all over his tongue.
You felt him kissing his way up your body, leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin, until he reached your mouth again. His kiss was gentle. When he pulled away, you finally opened your eyes to stare into his pretty ones. You secretly imagined a mini version of you and him, with his eyes. It made you smile without even realising it.
“You’re mine.” He whispered, his stare was feral, he was hungry.
You reached up and touched his rough cheek gently. “I’m all yours.” You reminded him.
He leaned in for a kiss again, rougher this time. He kissed your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he undid and lowered his pants, and carefully slid into you. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him and reminding him that you were his. And you always would be.
You grimace in discomfort at first because it had been way too many weeks since the last time.
“Am I hurting you?” He asked, kissing your cheek. His breaths were shaky as he held back from fucking as hard and fast as he wanted. “You need me to slow down?”
“No,” You whispered. “I’m okay.” You turned to look at him.
He searched your face for any more signs of hurt. When he found none, he moved. He laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. You threw your head back as he started rocking in and out of you, his cock moving perfectly against your sensitive walls. He leaned down and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you with nice and deep strokes.
His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath.
“You’re all mine. You hear that, mama?” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply again while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more. “Look at me,” he growled quietly under his breath.
You immediately opened your eyes and stared into his. His stare was intense, but loving as always. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.
“Mine.” He whispered, his voice deeper now.
You nodded quickly. “Yours.”
He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then come for me, baby…” He whispered. “Come and let me fill you up again.”
His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar pressure in between your legs, making you squirm, moan, and gasp for air as your walls clenched violently around him. “Lando…” You moaned.
“I know, baby. I know.” He murmured against your forehead.
His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you a little more, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.
“You’re so beautiful, and you’re all fucking mine.” He whispered against your skin. “Can’t wait for you to start showing…” He sounded just as out of breath as you were. “Everyone’s gonna know just how much you’re mine.”
You couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a loud moan, grinding against him hungrily while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, kissing you as best he could while he emptied inside you.
“Fuck…” You gasped for air.
As was he.
Lando was careful not to crush you under him like he normally would, and instead moved to lay beside you for a moment, catching his breath for a few seconds before he pulled you into him again, spooning you from behind.
“I’ve got you, baby.” He said, kissing your shoulder. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He tightened his grip around you. “I love you.”
You wanted to whisper back that you loved him too, but the day’s tiredness, the orgasm, and your natural instinct to fall deeply asleep right after sex, all of it caught up to you at once. And before you knew it, you passed out in his arms with a faint smile on your face.
—
Lando remained awake. He took his time caressing you, and cleaning you before dressing you up in warm clothes. Downstairs, he could hear his people moving around, packing everything just like he’d ordered them too.
After all, you two would be leaving tonight itself.
Once he was done with dressing himself, he walked to where you were in deep, deep sleep on his bed. He leaned down and kissed your nose. “I’m doing this for us, baby.” He whispered. “For us and our future family.”
There was a reason why he’d asked all the staff members to go home early tonight. It was because he didn’t want there to be an audience when he moved out of this house, with you. You were a deep sleeper so this was perfect, he thought.
No one would know where you two went, you’d disappear without a trace.
He packed a bag for you as quickly as he could. He could always buy you whatever you needed but he figured you’d want and need some things for the plane ride to come. Toiletries and blankets, mostly.
“You won’t ever have to worry about a single thing, my love.” He whispered, looking over at you sleeping soundly while he packed in a hurry, checking his guns just in case, and throwing that into the bag as well. “I’m sorry I lied earlier.” He confessed.
He had. The doctor he interrogated wasn’t just held at gunpoint. Lando had made sure she would never speak again. Your file would be nowhere to be found. And without the doctor, no rumours or gossip would be spreading around the little town about this situation.
While he was with you tonight, his men had done just as he’d asked them to. They had taken all your stuff from your little apartment and moved it. It would be as if no one ever lived there.
Earlier this evening, he’d received confirmation from his men that while your friends and family members had been too scared to even question what was happening, they'd agreed to not reach out to authorities regarding your sudden disappearance. Of course, in exchange they would receive sporadic updates about where you are and how you’re doing.
If they ever acted out of line, well, he would simply take care of it and tell you that your friends and family decided to cut all ties. Because if there was anything he was good at, it was making sure people did exactly what he wanted them to do.
All in all, Lando had made sure you two would never come back to this place again.
He thanked whichever god was listening once he managed to get you in the backseat of his car without disturbing your sleep. He got in right after you, while his men filled the other cars with luggage and some things of yours from your apartment.
Once the cars were all out the gates and all on the way to his private plane, he leaned closer to you, nuzzling your cheek as you laid your head against his shoulder, sleeping soundly and unaware of all that was going on, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” He murmured. “We’ll be happy together, you just wait.” He kissed your face and pulled you into a hug, fixing your blanket around you and making sure you were properly warm.
His hand instinctively found its way to your belly, softly caressing it even though the bump wasn’t there yet. He kept an eye on the cars right in front and right behind, all filled with armed guards. He would need to be extra careful now. He was going to be a father, have a family of his own. He would need to protect you and the future kids with his life.
Despite the stress and worries, he found himself smiling at the thought of the future. A future with you, and your kids. You were both still fairly young to be parents but he felt ready for it.
He knew you’d probably throw a fit when you’d wake up and find out that he was literally changing your whole life overnight. He smirked thinking about how fiery you could be sometimes. But it would be too late then. You would be miles away from here, up in the air with nowhere to go. He’d deal with your tantrum on his plane, and remind you that you were his. His to take care of.
Only his.
part 2
#mob!lando#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris fanfic#lando norris#lando norris imagine#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris x you#mob!au
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