#when i was growing up all i hoped for was that i would live a normal life once i grew up
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Just maybe ⎸ N.H
Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader
genre: friends to lovers
Warnings: swearing, fluff
synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints.
word count: 2.3k
authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open.
missing the devils rn :(
Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.
From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.
Him.
The captain of the New Jersey devils.
Him.
The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you.
Him and his cute accent.
Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.
Him. Nico Hischier.
This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .
After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.
Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.
Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back?
Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?
Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.
Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men.
However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.
Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.
You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA.
You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day.
X
You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency.
You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.
“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.
“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it.
“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.
His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own.
“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red.
Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.
You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot.
“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.
“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.
Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump.
“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing
“Hello?”
“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.
You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.
Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.
You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats.
“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face.
“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers in your lap.
“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.
Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.
If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico
Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)
“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me” she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.
“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread.
“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.
“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink.
“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.
‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?
surely just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.
X
X
Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils.
Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.
Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.
X
You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.
He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly.
“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.
“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask
“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady.
A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you.
Fuck it.
You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.
You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away.
“I like you.” you confess.
Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.
“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek.
Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.
You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.
Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?
Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.
Maybe.
Just maybe…
He does love you back.
#nico hischier#nhl hockey#nhl imagine#nico hischer x reader#nj devils#new jersey devils#friends to lovers
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melodies | 1.0
summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that.
wc: 3.1k
warnings: none this time around!
a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!
Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown.
He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.
Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.
“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.
“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.
“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”
“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed.
He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.
It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.
Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites.
“And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true..”
Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.
“And do unto others
As you'd have done to you..”
He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.
“Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young”
Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence.
“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,
“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.
“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.
“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”
“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll, “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.
Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you.
Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.
“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.
“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.
“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”
“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”
“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder.
“What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.
“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”
“Sty–”
“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.
“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”
“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”
You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.
An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”
“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.
“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”
“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.
“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.
“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence.
“And my best friend is betting against me!”
“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”
“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.
“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you.
“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.
“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”
“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.
“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”
“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”
“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer..
You just roll your eyes.
Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.
A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?”
“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”
“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”
“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.
“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.
“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.
Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.
A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”
“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?
Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.
“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”
“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”
Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.
“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.
“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.
“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.
“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.
“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;
“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”
“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.
“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up.
As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.
Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”
“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him
“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.
“And how did she sound?”
“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.
“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one.
“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you.
“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.
“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”
“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.
“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”
“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”
“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.
“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”
“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”
“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’
“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”
“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”
“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.
“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.
“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.
“B-bye, Styles.”
“Harry,”
“If you impress me, then maybe.”
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry edward styles#harry styles fic
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Growing Pains | Spencer Reid
pairing: s2!spencer reid x gn! reader
description: after spending what felt like an eternity pining over Spencer Reid, the two of you finally began moving towards becoming something... until his run-in with Tobias Hankel seemed to put a stop to every aspect of Spencer's life, even his relationship with you.
details: Spencer's post-revelations related trauma, angst! and fluff (hurt with comfort), sporadic flashbacks
word count: 2,321
i hate that i can't love you, but I'm just in the way / but you say i won't be here forever, and you'll take as long as it takes
Your cold hands ached as they struggled to make a fist, raising that balled-up hand to the dark, wooded door.
Every day for the last week and a half you'd come to this very door, that of your friend, Spencer Reid. And every day for the last week and a half you would knock on the door and hope with anxious breaths for an answer. Only to receive no response.
Part of you would worry he was dead if it wasn't for the fact that at the very least he had managed to at least call out of work each and every day. It was so typical of Spencer ,it almost made you smile. Even after all of the trauma he had just gone through, he still made sure to call out of work. No one expected to see him back at the BAU for a while. Not after Tobias Hankel.
Despite all too much of it having been live-streamed directly to you and the rest of the BAU, you knew very little of what had actually happened to Spencer in the time he had been taken by Tobias Hankel, nobody did. And the truth is, you barely knew of what was live-streamed. Maybe it made you "weak" in comparison to the rest of the team, but you just couldn't bear to look at Spencer in that state. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to live was already too much to handle- even now, knowing he was safe, you still had trouble sleeping, the scenario of having not made it in time playing through your mind over and over again.
Knock, knock, knock
You held your breath in anticipation as your hands hit the door, you bit your lip in a painful desperation. Please, Spencer. You beg, your voice cracking as you whisper to yourself.
No response.
It wasn't like Spencer to not talk to you, especially not for days on end. The two of you had been friends since the academy. You were instantly drawn to him, maybe it was his impressive memory, or how passionate he was about his work, maybe it was his awkward boyish charm, or his sweet smile, or how his eyes lit up when he won a game of chess or cards, and the way he scrunched his nose whenever he laughed, maybe it was the way his sweaters never fit just right, and his socks never matched, or-
It was more than sufficient to say that you had fallen head over heels for Spencer, more than you had for anyone else in your life, you were in love. He was kind, and inviting, and you could never understand why everyone else seemed to make fun of him. And finally after what felt like an eternity of pining, and planning for the perfect moment- a french film marathon at Spencer's apartment and a few too many glasses of cheap wine was what let your feelings slip. You could still feel the way your stomach dropped as the words left your tongue,
"You know I love you, Spence"
"Yeah- like- as a friend." He stuttered, obviously caught off guard
You could have saved yourself then, played it cool, and said yes, but before you could stop yourself your head was shaking no.
Spencer's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth curled into a sheepish smile, "Really?" He looks down at his lap, his fingers rapidly tapping against his knee, "I- wow- I-" He shakes his head and looks back at you, "I love you too."
With a few blinks you find yourself back in reality. You could only live in memories for so long. You sighed, as tears welled up in your eyes. Part of you wondered if you were being selfish, crying about how you missed him when he was going through so much worse.
You wiped your stinging eyes, fuck it. You needed to know how he was doing. You reach into the pocket of your coat, feeling around before gripping the cool metal of your key ring. You pull it out of your pocket before gripping the keys that hung from it tightly in your hands. The dull metal pressed into the skin of your hands, and your cold, stiff fingers gripped harder to the point where it hurt. You closed your eyes, wincing as you tightened your fist around the metal even harder, trying to convince yourself to go through with your plan. At some point of you and Spencer "going steady" you had exchanged keys to each other's apartments.
You released the key ring from your grip, a red indent left in the palm of your aching hand. You sift through the various keys and with a loud jingling sound, the other keys fell to the bottom of the ring as you gripped the key to Spencer's apartment between your thumb and index finger. You sigh once more, telling yourself the worst that could happen is if he really doesn't want to see you he will tell you to leave and you will listen.
You push the key into the lock and twist it until you can turn the door handle. The door opens with a creak, and you step into the dark apartment, careful to close the door softly behind you. You can barely see two feet in front of you, all the lights are off and the blinds are drawn. Your hand slides up a wall as you fumble around for a light switch, flicking on the soft, warm wall light next to the door. You blink a few times, getting used to the light before your gaze darts over to the kitchen table. The apartment was almost unrecognizable. It was cluttered to a degree that you had never seen from Spencer before. He was usually so well organized. But now, papers, takeout containers, and half-drunken cups of coffee were scattered around the dark wooden surface.
It broke your heart to see Spencer's living spaces in such disarray, if this is what his apartment looked like, you couldn't even bear to think about what you might find if you were to peek inside his mind. Even with the lights now on, the dark green walls of the apartment never felt this dark to you.
You tread softly toward his bedroom, careful not to make too much noise against the creaky wood of his apartment floor. Part of you was aware of how creepy this seemed- and you worried maybe you'd scare Spencer by entering his room. Still- maybe it was selfish, but you missed him too much to allow another day go by without seeing him. Allowing Spencer to just stay holed up in his apartment for days on end was not going to do anything for anyone.
You press your hand against Spencer's bedroom door, it's opened just a crack and you're able to push the door open with a small creak. The room isn't as dark as the rest of his apartment, a few small beams of light from the setting sun peek into the small room from blinds that haven't been fully closed, drenching it with a warm orange color.
Spener's clothes are scattered throughout the room, and his brown leather bag had been thrown on the ground near the door, papers and books spilling out of it. You could almost guarantee it had been in that spot from the moment he got home from that dreaded case.
Your eyes flick up to the bed in the middle of the room where Spencer lay, his face down, stuffed into the pillows. His comforter had been kicked to the side, and the fitted sheet had come off one of the corners of the mattress.
You wondered just how much Spencer had actually left his bed since he had gotten home, the takeout containers and coffee cups in the dining room signified to you at least he did at some point leave his bedroom. Still, the sorry state of everything made you want to cry. How could anyone do this to him?
You slip off your shoes, and inch across the soft carpet closer to the bed, careful not to step on any of the clothes that were strewn about the floor.
"Spencer," You say, just above a whisper, attempting to let him know of your presence. He barely even stirs in response to the noise, turning onto his side deep in sleep.
As you got closer to the bed you could see him more clearly. His hair was a mess, long curly strands stuck to his cheeks with sweat, his eyes shut tight and his mouth almost turned down into a frown. Even in sleep, he looked so upset, so tortured. It made you sick to your stomach to even think about what he could have been dreaming about.
"Spencer?" You say again, weaker this time- your voice trembling with nerves.
No response.
You sigh, pulling off your jacket and allowing it to collect on the floor with the rest of the scattered clothes. You sit down on the edge of the bed and think carefully about your next move. You don't want to frighten him, but it may be impossible not to not after you basically broke in.
You reach a delicate hand outward and move a couple pieces of Spencer's hair from his cheek. His head moves slightly in response, but you continue to smooth your hand down the rest of the length of his hair. You can tell it's tangled, even without combing your fingers through it. You let your hand fall further, down his neck, resting on his bare back. He's warm to the touch as you rub soft circles on the exposed skin.
"Spencer?" You say again, louder this time leaning your body towards him.
His eyes flick open and he's jolted awake, swatting your arm away as a gasp leaves his mouth.
"H-hey," You grab his arm to prevent him from swinging any further, "It's just me Spence."
He stares at you wide-eyed, pupils dilated with a mix of confusion and fear. His throat rises with a thick swallow and his lip trembles. You begin speaking frantically,
"I-I'm so sorry I didn't mean to fright-"
"W-what are you doing here?" He asks, his voice is weak but there's a pointedness to his question.
"I just- I wanted to make sure you were okay- I haven't heard from you in a while and I was so worried about you I just-" Your brain was going a mile a minute before all of a sudden... your train of thought disappears as you look into Spencer's obviously pained eyes. His eyes blink rapidly as he attempts to hold back tears. The sheets have fallen off of him and his bare chest is shiny with sweat as it rises and falls rapidly. You let go of his arm, letting it drop down beside him. "I'm sorry," You whisper, too saddened at the state of him to continue.
Spencer stares at you for another moment before looking down, a single tear dripping down his pale cheek. Even now, like this he was still beautiful to you. And despite everything you couldn't help but for your heart to fill with love. But as your heart felt with love, the rest of your body overflowed with anxiety as you contemplated what to even do or say next. You stutter,
"D-do you want me to leave-"
"No." Spencer cuts you off. "Stay." He looks back up at you, "Please." His eyes are wet with tears that threaten to escape down his face.
"Of course," You nod, "of course," softer this time.
"Can we lay down?" Spencer asks, twisting his face. You nod fervently, swinging your legs onto the bed. You pat the pillow next to you, beckoning Spencer to lie back down. He does so, slowly, and you follow, your faces inches from each other, heads on the same pillow.
You inch yourself closer to Spencer, heat radiating off of his trembling body. You place a hand upon his cheek, stroking your thumb slowly back and forth.
"Am I ever going to be okay?" Spencer sniffles. The question feels like a knife had been stabbed right through your heart.
"Of course you will, Spence, " You assure, soft yet firm.
"It doesn't feel like it," He shakes his head, forcing your hand to fall from its spot on his cheek.
"These things take time, lots and lots of time."
"Yeah but-" He starts, getting choked up again, "What if you don't want to wait for me?"
"Wait for you?" You ask, confused as to what he meant.
"If I'm like this for too long." He answers, "You won't want to be around anymore."
"Oh Spencer," you shake your head, "No, no" You put your hand back onto his cheek.
"I feel like such a burden- that's why I haven't called," His voice breaks as he starts crying, really crying this time, "I mean- I'm an FBI agent, I should be able to get through this. Everyone else on the team would be back to work in an instant. And I can't even get out of bed."
"Spencer." You cut off his ramblings, "You are not a burden- you could have died, Spencer, no one is expecting you to be alright."
"I feel like I should be." He pauses, "I just don't want everyone to sit around worrying about me, I don't want you to sit around worrying about me. It's not fair."
"I worry because I care." You relay a small smile, "Because I love you."
"And that's what I'm afraid of, one day you'll realize you've spent so much effort worrying about me that you won't want to love me anymore."
"Never." You wipe the tears from Spencer's eyes, trying to give him gentle reassurance. "I'd wait forever for you to be okay."
a/n: woah long time no post? I haven't posted a fic on here in almost two years! sorry I'm a little rusty, I've been deeeep in a creative rut. I'm accepting requests now however, Ive missed you guys!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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calling toji when you can't sleep bc the trees look like monsters
mysterious shadows danced across the off-white wall that faced the bed. it intrigued you how harmless things could turn sinister in a matter of hours. the trees swayed like monsters outside, and the wind howled like hungry, blood-thirsty wolves through the windows. you sunk deeper into your duvet, your body growing hot with anxiety and fear. it was dumb, the paranormal series you watched before bed.
it was all in your head.
the usual creak of the hardwood floors made your skin crawl. your eyes were darting in every direction as you formulated an escape plan. your chest was tight, and your breathing was quiet but quick, like a duck swimming. you couldn’t bring yourself to turn onto your left side, your eyes glued to the wall parallel to you.
you were officially frozen with fear. the fear of nothing and everything. your phone lay on the bedside table on the left side of the bed, toji’s usual side, although without him here, you were terrified. with a surge of courage, you quickly turned over, facing the empty side of the bed. you shuffled quietly and reached your arm out to grasp your phone. as soon as it was in your grip, you turned the flashlight on. the room looked exactly the same as you had left it before you went to bed 3 hours ago, but it felt different. most likely from the made-up scenario you composed in your mind.
you checked your messages to see if toji had texted, and to your discomfort, he hadn’t. so in classic fashion, you called him and put it on speaker.
“hey doll, what’s up?” his voice was gruff, but it warmed your skin.
“just wanted to check up, see how you’re doing...” your voice was shaky, and you cursed yourself for it.
“isn’t it 3am in tokyo?” he didn’t sound worried, and he had every right to—toji knew nothing was inherently wrong. but you needed comfort.
“uh, yeah, i just needed to hear your voice.”
he sighed, and you could practically hear him run a hand through his hair. “i know it’s hard, but i’ll be home in 2 days.”
toji then scoffed, and you could hear him rolling his eyes. “did you watch one of those stupid, scary shows again?”
you groaned, knowing he made fun of how scared you got. his laughter only heightened, and you covered your eyes with your hand, giggling.
“yes, and stop laughing at me. i’m terrified!” you confessed, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you eyed the bedroom door. “i wish you were here with me, toj.”
“2 days, and i’ll be back in your arms, saving you from the big, scary monsters that live in our apartment,” toji announced, his voice softer than when he first answered. you sighed, hoping the phone call would never end.
“listen, doll, i gotta go, okay? but 2 days.”
you smiled softly at his words.
“okay, i love you,” you mumbled, feeling safer and more content; the picture frames on the chest of drawers on the opposite wall stopped their random movements, and the shadows across the room stilled.
“love you too, and don’t forget to check under the bed,” his hysterical laughter was the last thing you heard before he hung up.
fucking fushiguro.
#perhaps im in my dilf era#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#toji x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#toji x you#toji fluff#— ann writes!
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Fragile Things - Yandere!Childe x Reader
At least he’s regretful when a punishment goes too far…
cws: kidnapping, isolation related punishments, yandere, self harm, softer yandere, heavier content.
1k words
~~~
“Baby, hey, look—look at me.” He was speaking firmly, his hands on your wrists, restraining you. Keeping you from clawing your skin any more than you already had.
You were absolutely inconsolable, babbling words even you couldn’t discern, sobbing, shaking. “No—no I-I—Ajax. A-Ajax.”
“That’s right. That’s right. Eyes on me. Oh baby. Too harsh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough—”
You only broke down further, each hiccuping sob dragging you deeper as you tried to curl in on yourself.
Ajax hadn’t just kidnapped you. He’d been extremely thorough in breaking you. So thorough, a more logical you would have realized he underestimated how much you could take.
You’d been isolated, for the most part. Trying to escape the cabin in the snowy wilderness was not a good idea. Partially because, well, snow. And partially because it was easy to track people in the snow.
When he—inevitably—did catch you, he was upset. You knew the risk of punishment when you made the choice, but what he did was different to what you expected.
Your wrists, ankles, and neck all ached badly. For over a week you were locked up and shackled. And not the kind of locked up you were before the attempt. No, there wasn’t a warm cabin, a fireplace, or Tartaglia’s sloppy attempts at keeping you happy. A fucking closet. No light, windows. Ajax didn’t even speak to you when he left you food.
It was so different to everything you’d ever known, growing up in the free rolling hills of Mondstadt. You already struggled in the confines of the cabin, but kept silent and still in such a small space?
A week of that, and now he decided you were good. That you’d probably learnt your lessons. But that morning, when he went to let you out, to welcome you back with a teasing ‘I hope you learnt your lesson’ and a patronizing hug, he found you… in a less than desirable state.
Shivering not from cold, throat raspy and raw, eyes trained on the ground. You didn’t even notice him at first. Not as he spoke, each shackle falling off with a click. Not as his mood shifted as the light from the hallway illuminated your skin.
You’d been clawing at it, to the point of bleeding, stretching your limited dexterity in order to anxiously and unconsciously hurt yourself. Like a caged bird plucking it’s own feathers from stress. You’d only been brought to reality when he picked you up, jerking away from him as tears sprung to your eyes again.
He said something you didn’t process as you tried to stand up, stumbling like a doe on new legs, vision gray around the edges.
You weren’t sure how it all went down. But somehow you two ended up on the couch, settled between his thighs, your back to his chest as you shaked and begged and tried to get away, only partially aware. “No no no no—Ajax please.”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I got you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He repeated, letting you claw at his forearms instead of your own skin. “Breath, breath little dove. It’s okay, It's all over baby. I’m sorry, it was too much, wasn’t it? You’re too fragile for me to be mean like that.”
You continued your quick, flighty, panicked breaths as he gently tried to get you back to reality. Eventually, you’d slowed down, settling against his chest, eyes still wide and breaths still quick. Like a live rabbit in the hands of a trapper.
“You with me, baby?” He asked gently. As your chest struggled to rise and fall again, you gave a quick nod, not looking up at him. Your eyes were trained on some far off spot, pretending to be anywhere else other than that damn closet. You weren’t sure you even realized—truly realized—you’d left. “There we go. There. That’s better darling. See? Everything’s alright now.”
“E-everything's alright…” you repeated, nodding to yourself.
“Yeah. See? Not too bad. I’m sorry for your punishment, I got all caught up in my emotions. I should have known you wouldn’t do that well alone, without me.” He laid his cheek on the top of your head, voice taking on something fond. A content sigh sounded above you. “You’re so soft. I need to be careful not to break you. But you need to be careful too, baby.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, before squeaking out a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, no more escape attempts. Okay?” He said, and you nodded. He ran his fingers through your hair, having let go of your wrists when you weren’t paying attention. His blunt nails, worn from hard work, scratched gently at your scalp. “That’s right.”
It continued for some amount of time. It was hard to tell, really. You were on the edge of freaking out but somehow also falling asleep. Everything ached, from your ribs to your wrists.
At some point, he grabbed them again. Gentler this time. He lifted one, holding it gently as his thumb rubbed at your self inflicted injuries.
You felt like a caged bird, bars too tight and owner too inexperienced to keep you from plucking your own feathers from stress.
He sighed above you, and you turned your head away so as to not look at him. “Poor thing.” The condescending words felt strangely genuine as he laid his cheek on the top of your head. “It’s okay, I’ll take the week off and we can fix this, okay baby?”
He quieted for a moment, and belatedly you realized he wanted a response. You made a small, hollow noise of acknowledgement, which came out raspy from your throat.
He sighed again, as if this was so hard on him. It was hard to find the energy to be angry though. So you just stayed silent as he dropped your wrist and dragged you closer to him. He was cold to the touch, but even his love was warmer than isolation.
~
Not quite sure how this one managed to be both softer and rougher than my usual works. Sorry it was so short! And yes, the next part of traitor readers will be coming… eventually. I’m having a touch of trouble formatting it which is getting in the way of be writing it. Side note, I’ve expanded my fandoms open for requests! HxH and to a lesser degree HSR!
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11. up from the dust, inconceivable love
Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)
Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.
If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!
Words: 5352
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief.
“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open.
You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders.
“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.”
Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?”
“Willow.”
Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”
“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”
“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”
You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.
“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles.
“Neither is Willow.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”
“Would you leave if I said yes?”
Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement.
You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”
He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it.
You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace.
“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”
You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”
“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it.
“Sarah.”
His head snaps up.
“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”
You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours.
“What about Willa?”
You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.”
“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.
“Miles is an old man's name!”
“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”
You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it.
Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”
“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them.
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.
“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared.
“We’re getting close… We need a crib.”
“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”
“I can bring it down in the morning.”
“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.”
“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.
You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before.
A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops.
Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy.
“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath.
“Ellie is gone.”
You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”
Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests.
“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you.
His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back.
“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“
“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”
“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.”
Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult.
“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.”
Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom.
It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain.
“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”
You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.
“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”
Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”
You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.
“I have to go after her.”
There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”
He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”
You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”
Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”
He rides out thirty minutes later.
You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs.
Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back?
The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.
Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it.
You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality?
You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you.
On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived.
“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes.
“What?”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.
“He killed them! All of them!”
“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”
“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”
Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind.
“So he lied to you too!”
“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway.
She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders.
“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time.
“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”
“They were going to kill you!”
Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.
“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house.
Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much.
Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”
“You lied to her.”
“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!”
“They were going to kill her!”
“Have you listened to anything she’s said?”
You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living.
“I couldn’t lose her!”
“Except you did!”
Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”
“You’re missing the point!”
“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!”
Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”
He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”
“Joel!”
“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.”
He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.
Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there.
He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going.
There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol.
He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.
His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you.
Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another.
She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth.
I’ll go back, but we’re done.
Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him.
Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him?
Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows.
The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open.
Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”
“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out.
It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”
“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.”
He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”
You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.”
“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”
“I think you missed most of it.”
“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”
“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”
“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says.
“She?”
“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.
For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water.
You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs.
“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”
Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin.
After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly.
“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”
“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”
Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”
“Joel…”
Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”
“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”
“I was trying to protect her.”
“I wish you would’ve told me.”
“I know.”
“This only works if we’re open with each other.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”
Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”
You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.
“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.”
“And we’re both okay.”
He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred.
You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away.
Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose.
“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”
His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”
You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”
“You were going through my things, I see.”
“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.”
Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”
“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers.
Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name.
She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled.
“You can come in.”
The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.
“Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.”
“You want to meet her?” you ask.
Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you.
“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks.
Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”
Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa.
“You can get closer.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I never got to hug you earlier.”
She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.
“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”
Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does.
“What’s her name?” Ellie asks.
“Willa,” you reply.
“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly.
And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal.
Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her.
“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.
Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?”
Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”
“Good.”
She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.
The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice.
“Do you like the butterflies?”
You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still.
“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”
She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer.
“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.
“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”
You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent.
“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”
You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile.
He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you.
His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”
“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair.
“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”
“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her.
Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one.
Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.”
“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”
Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”
But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“About?”
You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”
“I did.” He kisses your forehead.
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Ooohhh any head cannons with malleus! Yutu and how diasomnia reacts to them?
Ah yes the banished Prince. I was wondering when I was going to get an ask about him, and I admit I am a bit surprised it was only the one unlike a certain other prince. It's rather fitting to come back to Yutu posts with him though, there's a great deal of tragedy to be had with Malleus in this ayuu.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, for context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FROM BOOK 7 ON HOW DRAGON FAE REPRODUCE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
I've mentioned it before but Malleus! Yutu plays by half elf rules. He's very young looking, he's around the same age that Yuu is, whatever you think that is, but he looks around 15 at most and shares his father's eyes and teeth. Even in your world he had a reputation for being quite baby faced, this annoys him quite a lot, though he keeps his outrage to a brief pout if the person talking about it is Yuu.
Yuu remembers Malleus being their best friend, someone who was socially awkward due to isolation and came off as intense and scary because of it. They go to great lengths to try and encourage Yutu to make friends, but the public opinion of them as weirdos really hinders this and is only increased as Yutu matures. This Yutu doesn't like people very much, he grows up assuming everyone is mean and overly judgemental and that he will never be truly accepted for who he is no matter how hard he tries.
Being born in a different world does not make him any less of a Draconia, though unlike his father he is less prone to rage and more to long periods of melancholy; he is very much that sensitive goth kid with reams of bad poetry he will want to burn when he gets older and a love for rainy days. He has a deep love for classical poetry, music, and old clothes. If the area where Yuu lived had a ren faire then you can best bet Yuu took him there as a special treat more than once, he loves seeing all the medieval outfits and activities. He's explored every cemetery your town has, knows all of it's weird rumors, and any fun history stuff that might have happened in and around it, something he retains when transported to Twisted Wonderland. There are few people who know more about the history of Night Raven College than Yutu Draconia, for better or worse.
His interest in the macabre effects how he sees his parent's situation. While other Yutus might have needed time to adjust to the idea of magic and curses, Malleus! Yutu always firmly believed in it and assumed that was exactly what had happened to his parent. He went back and forth on his beliefs about his father, as a small child he thought of his father as a wonderful person who loved his parent so much that he must be searching for them surely, and that any day now he would swoop in and fly Yuu and him away to where they really belonged. When that never happened he began to wonder if maybe his father saw his relationship with Yuu as a mistake and that their memories had been altered purposefully to hide his identity. Whatever the truth, Yutu has decided that his loyalty is to Yuu, and that no matter who is trying to harm them he will hunt them down and have his revenge.
He announces as much to Crewel after he arrives in the mirror chamber, magic sparking at his finger tips as he roars it with a force he didn't know he had and immediately starts hacking at how dry his throat has become. It's very cute and not as intimidating as he might have wanted, but his point comes across well enough. Diasomnia is extremely pleased to have a Draconia back in the Housewarden's seat, though Yutu is less than pleased with this new position of authority.
The transition of being a hated outcast to the rightful King of a literal fallen kingdom is jarring. Learning of his father's controversial marriage to Yuu, of the uproar caused by their disappearance and his father's outright refusal to ever give up hope that his child and spouse would return is heartbreaking. Silver and Sebek had standing orders to go to them when not if they did, that's how badly his father wanted to believe he would be back. He was barely able to live with himself without them, but he had to. He had a kingdom relying on him, and someone else too.
We have gone back and forth in these posts about giving Yutu a sibling, but Malleus! Yutu absolutely has one. Dragon fae create eggs from magic and their partner's love, so in this scenario Malleus and Yuu decided to have two children, one that Mal would nourish and one that Yuu would. Technically, the Crown Princess is older than Yutu, but since she hatched from an egg she matures even slower than he does. She did grow faster than her father, the ability to transform into a human came much more naturally to her because of Yuu's love, but she doesn't look or sound much older than six. You are insane if you think this means she thinks of herself as the younger sibling though, her egg was older by two whole years so there! That means she is in charge! So Yutu absolutely has to stop learning boring "political smience" or whatever and play with her RIGHT NOW. She's wanted to meet him for so long TᴖT how dare her little brother deny her TᴖT look at her she's so cute how could he even think of scolding her TᴖT oh jail for brother jail for 1000 years TᴖT
Yutu might hate socializing and have a negative view of people but he absolutely adores his sister and thinks of himself as the big brother. He lets her claim to be in charge in the same way Malleus let Sebek do whatever he wanted because he finds it amusing. It is not uncommon to see the King in Exile holding court with the Crown Princess on his lap, rocking her softly as she naps. It helps solidify his control over what remains of Briar Valley, they might have been skeptical about having a half human King who cannot even transform into a dragon, but his professed dedication to his father's legacy of sacrifice and the clear adoration of his sister make his authority tough to deny.
Speaking of sacrifice, going back in time was hard for Malleus! Yutu. He felt there was absolutely no way he could bring his sister back with him because of how young she was and he was skeptical of whether or not it would even work. If it didn't he would be depriving Briar Valley of a king again, but if it did well. Then he would never need to be king in the first place, which Yutu finds reliving. While he did step up to the task, all he ever really wanted was to live with his father, Yuu, and now his sister in whatever way would have been normal for them. Sure, that normal turns out to have been quite abnormal, but that doesn't mean he still does not want it.
When the Once and Never King sees his father he has maybe more information than any of the other Yutus, even those who had met their dads. He conducted lengthy interviews with both Silver and Sebek, compiling a great pile of notes that he went through over and over again trying to come up with a strategy. All of that planning goes out the window when they actually meet, Yuu asks for permission from Tsunotarou to introduce the two of them, thinking it would be nice for both him and Yutu to have more friends and Malleus is just intrigued enough to say yes.
So this is a dragon fae. It's the only thing Yutu can bring himself to think when he sees Malleus, the other, more intense thoughts and emotions are distracted by the fireflies that accompany his father's arrival. They're beautiful, he can't remember having seen anything like them before, certainly not in his future. His father looks at him in brief surprise, and magic tingles up Yutu's spine. It's similar to the feeling he had when he first saw his sister, like recognizing like and seeking to form a connection. It hurts to shut himself off, but he smiles and focuses on his humanity as he puts forward his hand. "Hello Mr. Tsunotarou, I'm Yutu." The smile that stretches its way across Malleus's face is pure amusement, he must have really liked this ruse. What did Yuu think about that when they learned?
"My the humans of your world are certainly brave." He shakes his hand proudly, clearly pleased at the normalcy of Yutu's treatment but still painfully unaware how to be normal about it. "I am deeply pleased to make your acquaintance."
Malleus adores Yutu. There's just something about him that activates a part of him that he wasn't aware of before, and while he doesn't understand what those emotions are he recognizes his increased need to be protective of Yuu for exactly what it is. His mind thinks of Yuu as his mate, in body and soul, and that does terrify him slightly. Yuu is so tragically human, they'll die if he takes them home. They'll die if he lets them go to their home. They'll die if he never says anything at all and lets his love rot out his heart alone in his tower while they freely move through the world without ever having known of his emotions-
I haven't given much thought as to how I would want a Malleyuu confession to go down, but I could see them starting a sort of awkward courting process where Malleus takes them for long, late night walks in the forest to slow dance alone, brings them roses and handcrafted jewels he silently begs for them to wear to show just how close they are getting- but however it happens there is at least an understanding that there is something between them by the time Yutu's disguise is knocked off and he's forced to come clean.
It's a reveal Malleus does not take well. Oh not that he hates his son, he is overwhelmed with such a powerful love and joy at the mere concept of his existence he could never- no it's the fact that his future. His happy ending, that he fucking deserves after everything that his family has been through, was robbed from him and he wasn't able to do anything about it other than go to sleep? Him? The most powerful mage (fifth actually but he doesn't care about that) in existence couldn't stop that? Unacceptable.
After Yuu gets him to calm down and soothes the brewing thunderstorm they both are very focused on the well being of their child. I feel like both Yuu and Malleus would want Yutu to have a chance to just enjoy himself, for him to take off the crown he was never meant to have and just. Breathe for a moment. That's part of Malleus's motivation for introducing him as his son to the Diasomnia gang, he wants his child to have a chance to have some fun with his Uncles and Pee Paw Lilia.
Sebek bursts into tears when he learns of Waka Sama jr's existence. I think he feels a sort of kinship with Yutu, they're both half fae and they both have a deep respect for Malleus. He's very shy when he sees how much respect Yutu has for him. He's surprisingly humble when Yutu thanks him for protecting him in the future, insisting that he was just doing his job. He likes listening to Yutu play the piano, I could see Yutu trying to teach Sebek how to play an instrument, partially to spend time with him and partially just because he is curious as to how tone deaf Sebek can be.
Silver is deeply concerned about Yuu and Yutu's safety. He organizes with Sebek and Lilia to change up their patrols to include defending the new members of the royal family . He is a bit confused as to why Yutu wants to just hang out with him when all he really does is train, but he also is glad that the little prince is willing to train with him and take Silver's concerns about his safety seriously. I could see Silver apologizing for not being able to defend his parent, genuinely distressed about his situation and Yutu being a bit awkward about it. He never thought to blame Silver ever, why would he? Yutu is not unused to Silver's kindness, but it still overwhelms him. It's a pure sort of love that challenges what Yutu thinks about the world, and he doesn't know what to do with that.
Now. Mr. Pee Paw. Lilia is probably the most excited out of the entire group, look at this kid. You see him? Living physical proof that humans and fae can get along! If a Draconia did it then you can too, Grandpa Leven would be so proud! The future is concerning sure, but now that he knows about it he can plan for it. Lilia might be old, but he is still has some fight left in him, and he is very happy to use it on securing Malleus's family's future.
Yes, he does try to cook for Yutu. He wants to make him a birthday cake because he insists that they should throw him a party even if it isn't his birthday so he can have one with his Pee Paw and Dad. Yes everyone forces Yutu to distract him so they can make sure they've got something edible. He's so sad about it, how could they, jail for the little prince, jail for 1000 years.
Malleus is overly confident about his ability to change the future. Failure isn't an option as far as he is concerned, he will find the person who dared to corrupt his perfect future and he will have his due. His son will never have to live in a world without him, and he will never have to live in a world that rejected Yuu. Someone clearly needs to be reminded of just who Malleus Draconia is, and that memory will not be pretty.
Bonus
So the little crown princess. She learns that her idiot younger brother is planning to go back in time without her and she is very angry about this. How dare he, she knows he can't do anything without her so she makes sure to tag along anyway.
I toyed with the future kid reveal coming from her just marching up to Yutu and giving him orders, but I also like the idea of the Draconia family finding her lost in the woods crying because of how distressed she is that she can't find her little brother. Either way she doesn't understand the need for secrecy and wants to spend every single second she can with her parents. She causes a lot of rain when she finally gets to meet Yuu in person, she had so many dreams about meeting them and now they're real and she can hug them- she's just got too many emotions in her little body send help.
The Draconia family has pretty easy to follow naming theme, but I wasn't too certain about what names to give Yutu and his sister. I like the idea of Princess Draconia being named Mallia after Lilia but I am less certain about Yutu. In my notes Miss Princes was just called Princess Tamago because she hatched out of an egg. That's not her name but I could see that being something Yutu calls her.
#<3 asks#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#malleus x reader#malleyuu#malleus draconia x reader
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Heyo, how are you? I’m not sure if you celebrate it, but hope you had a great Easter? Would you write another Dokucha story where she’s the daughter of Mihawk and being very secretive whenever she goes somewhere. One day, Mihawk follows her (Crocodile and Buggy follow him too, they’ve got nothing better to do xD) which is easier said than done. She’s very smart (after all she’s Mihawk’s daughter) and tries to make sure not to be followed. Once they find her, they can’t understand what they walked into. Humandrills, Bananawanis, Kung-Fu Dugongs, and many more other animals are living in a secret place together and getting along, and especially, they all love her so so much. Together with her animal family they’re taking care of a wounded Sea King. Buggy is ready to leave the place and never come back, too many fearsome creatures for his taste and Crocodile and Mihawk are just at a loss for words (now Crocodile knows where his pets went, she doesn’t like that he uses them for battles and such, she loves their company and would never want any harm to come to them). Once they sense the three men, all the animals start to become hostile towards them ready to protect Dokucha at all cost.
The Scaly and furry ( mihawk x f!child!reader x crocodile)
A/N I DID IT GUYS AFTER SO LONG I FINALLY DID IT. I din’t have any idea on how to integrate buggy so he kinda got missed out. But here we are another dracule!reader, reader is in ther middle childhood, so young but not a todler but also not a teen. But anyways thank you guys so much for waiting
Mihawk narrows his eyes as once again his daughter had left in a hurry, leaving behind a poor excuse of wanting to explore the outside. His eyes flickering back to his co-worker as he pipes in
“If you’re that curious about what the brat is up to, we can simply follow her,” Crocodile huffs out, a cloud of smoke leaving his mouth as he spoke
It was easier said than done, seeing as his daughter had inherited haki from him, one she had harnessed under both his and Crocodile’s guidance. But it was still not on par with theirs, which made it possible for the two men to evade her detection, following her as she made her wave through the thick bushes until she arrived at a cove hidden away by trees and boulders.
She blinked, looking back
“I thought I felt something…” she murmured, turning back around smiling as she spotted one of her friends waiting for her at the entrance of a more secluded part of the cove.
“Hi Manny, I'm back!” She called to the Dugong, who made some aggressive punching movements her way as they both entered a more enclosed part of the cove
“I know, I’m sorry. Dad and Cruncle are getting suspicious, so it was harder to get this time,” the girl grumbles, letting out a squeak as she was suddenly lifted off the ground, relaxing when she recognized the presence.
“Enrique, you scared me,” she gasped, giggling when the human drill hugged her tighter
“I ‘m sorry; I know I was gone longer than normal; I'm back,” she said, smiling up at the ape that sat in the branches, letting low hoots as he put the girl down again
“I knew you cared, Enrique!”
A louder set of hoots and disgruntled noises left the Humandrill upon hearing this
“Tell yourself that, but I know you care!” She argued back to the growing cacophony of howls and screams, the occasional gecker leaving the ever-increasing group only to be stopped as Manny, now joined with his own group of dugongs, began emitting a series of whistles to get both of them on track
“Ah right, sorry,” she apologized, making haste to a blue hole deeper down the cove, smiling as a colossal beast surfaced when she kneeled next to it
“Hi Musa, how are they doing? I’m sorry it took me a bit, but I brought the medicine. Would you bring them up?” She spoke as she caressed the bananawani’s jaw, grinning when the latter let out a satisfied hiss as she sank back into the depths, returning accompanied both only by more of her kind but with a similar-sized beast being supported by their scaly bodies
She frowns at the Sea King’s state as they weakly glance at her, letting out a weak hiss in greeting
“Here, can you open your mouth?” Smiling when they complied, throwing the medication in their mouth
“You’re bigger, so I had to get a couple…hundred, but it sho-AH
Her words were caught up as, for the second time, she found herself airborne, this time; however, the culprit seemed to be a dusty mass dragging her feet in the air and dangling her upside down
As soon as this happened, as a switch being flicked, all the animals in the room became alert, aggresive, the bananawanis crawling out of the water and standing in front of her now dangling body. The dugongs and Humandrills stood in their own formations, preparing to fight the newcomers. Some of the human drills were quick to try to get the girl down, climbing through branches near her position, only to back down as the sand lashed out at them if they got too close
“It’s okay, guys, I know them,” she explains, trying to calm the growing tension in the cove
“Hi dad, hi Cruncle….what are you guys doing here?”
“I reckon we should be the ones asking that question,” Mihawk spoke, staring up at the girl
“What are you doing near them?” Crocodile growled as the creatures began to advance on them, as he flashed them with his haki in return, grinning when they backed away
“Wait, don’t hurt them! I can explain!” She hurried out
Mihawk quirked an eyebrow at that
“They’re my friends!” She chirps only to turn into a squeal as she is raised higher after a shared glance between the ex-warlords
“Dad!” She whined, a frown on her face
“Where did they come from?”
She pouts at that
“Well?”
“The human drills came with me from our old home, and we found the dugongs at the beach.”
Mihawk glances at Crocodile for confirmation on the latter, already knowing how likely it was for the apes to have followed them to the island, seeing how close they had grown in Kuragaina Island
“Dugongs are native to this area,” he confirms
He hums at that
“And the beasts?”
“I sneaked into Uncle’s gloomy room, and they were just there; they were lonely, so, I kind of, umm, let them go?”
Crocodile lets out a scoff at that
“They are huge predators, the only predators to sea kings, and you let them go because they looked lonely?”
“That’s what I just said, dummy.”
“Watch it brat.”
She sticks out her tongue at him in return
Mihawk rolled his eyes, walking closer to her
“What about the sea king?”
“It’s a baby! It got left by his pod, and he got really sick; he found them when me and Musa were out swimming, and we wanted to help them, well Musa wanted to eat them at first….”
“You are going to be the death of me,” he sighed, catching the child as Crocodile released the sand holding them up
“So…can I come see them again?” She asked the men once they had departed from the cove, much to the chagrin of the animals
They glance at each other before Crocodile begins
“The banawani need to come back.” he started sending her a side glare when she began to protest
“They have a job to do; once they do their job, they are free to go and rendevous with you,” he states
“Job? Do they play with you too, Cruncle? Is their job to keep you company?”
“N-
He pauses at the scathing glare he receives from the swordsman, understanding it was better not to let the young girl know what the reptile’s actual job consisted of
“..They keep me company and help me with some cleaning.”
“Cleaning? Them?” She questions, trying to picture the crocodiles using their huge bodies to tidy up an office
“They get rid of the trash for me.”
“Oh! That sounds like Musa and the rest! They are always hungry,” she laughs
Mihawk nods his head, a silent sign of acknowledgment for the otherwise aloof man
“You have to let me know where you are actually going from now on, no more sneaking out. As long as you do that, you are allowed to continue your peculiar friendship group.”
“Really?!”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, dad!”
A moment of silence envelops the trio as they continue walking, only to be cut short by the girl once again
“Do you want to come to cuddle and play with them with me?”
“No.”
“Worth a shot”
Again thank you for all the kind words I got saying to take my time, and sorry I completely disregard your words cause LISTEN I WANT TO KEEP GIVEN YOU GUYYS
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#one piece fluff#one piece x child!reader#dracule mihawk#dracule mihawk x child!reader#dracule mihawk x reader#sir crocodile x y/n#sir crocodile x you#crocodile x you#cross guild#sir crocodile x reader#crocodile x oc#crocodile x reader#op crocodile#crocodile one piece#mihawk fluff#mihawk imagine#mihawk scenario#bananawani#humandrill#mihawk#op mihawk#mihawk x reader#one piece mihawk#hawkeye mihawk#mihawk x you
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Hiya, could y
You make a bill kaulitz fic, where he loves getting head from you? <not headcanons, please>
i just got the most mind wrenchin idea for this hold on
please forgive me for not posting i had an exam
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 bill x fem! reader smut
twas a normal hallows eve, full of candy and slutty teenagers dressed in lingerie. you have to attend a party at your friend's house, but your homebody boyfriend opts to relax at home instead.
since you're going to be gone for a long while, why not be nice and give him a little treat before you have to leave?
you walk downstairs to the living room, where he's lazing on the couch and having a horror movie marathon.
you smile and walk over to kiss his forehead, instantly snatching his attention away from the bright tv screen.
"honey, you look gorgeous. you're leaving already?" he asks, sitting upwards properly.
"yeah, you want me to get you anything?" you reply, adjusting the neckline of your raunchy costume.
"um, candy would be nice, meine liebe." he says, watching you.
"sure, I'll see if they have a sorta party bag for you." you smile at him, admiring how he looks at you. gosh, it warms your heart.
you bring out your phone to check the time. okay, there's forty-five minutes left before you have to actually go, so there's enough time for a little gift.
your heels click against the laminated wooden tiles, growing louder as you approach him. he looks up at you confusedly, "schatz?"
"I'll be gone for a long time, do you think you can handle it?" you ask.
"I think so..." he says, looking away from you bashfully.
you smirk and raise an eyebrow at his cute, shy expression. using the hair tie on your wrist, you tie your hair into a lazy ponytail before going on your knees, in between his thighs.
"l-love?" he calls out curiously, "what are you...?"
you press a soft kiss onto the bulge right in front of you. he thought he was being smooth by playing nonchalant, but his hard-on gives it all away.
he tips his head back, letting a soft whimper leave his lips. you unzip his jeans and pull them down to his knees, revealing his calvin klein boxers, a large tent protruding from the middle.
you giggle, licking its clothed tip at first, making him hiss. you hadn't even done anything yet, but his cock was already twitching, aching for a sort of release.
as slowly as possible, you pull his boxers down, freeing his member from its confinement. oozing with pre-cum, veins travelling from the base to his bright red tip, like a trail to a prize.
you wrap your lips around his mushroom tip, kissing it and sucking on it. his hands travel down to your hair, grasping it in hopes of relieving the oncoming pleasure.
you tease his tip by pressing your tongue against it and dragging it up and down his slit, making him whine for mercy. you pull away with a soft 'pop!' and trail your kisses down to his balls.
he sobs, "stop...stop, t'much, can't..."
"you can, honey..." you whisper back, using your tongue to trace the veins on his shaft.
he nods, biting his bottom lip. you grin at his obedience, and kiss your way back up to his tip.
staring at his hard cock, you can't help but feel the familiar knot in your stomach form. it's unbelievable how cute he's being.
you slowly sink your mouth down his dick, trying to take in as much as you can. the rest of the inches that you can't take, you use your hand to substitute your mouth.
you look up at him, trying to see what type of reaction he held and gosh, you could just cum right then and there. his pretty eyes all rolled back, eyeliner running down his cheeks, his cute lips in an 'o' shape and his tongue slightly peeking out.
you bob your head up and down slowly, bringing him back from his trance. he hisses and grips your hair, but quickly loosens it when you slap his thigh to tell him to quit it.
"'m sorry, feels too good...nnh, stop it, bitte, mama..." he pleads, and you oblige. but when you do pull away, he starts to buck his hips into your unmoving hand that are wrapped around his base.
"what's wrong? you told me to stop." you tease him.
he whines, "no, no, no...please continue mama, I don't..."
you giggle, before resuming what you were doing. your wet, warm mouth is no replacement for your pussy, but god, it felt so good.
he sobs as he attempts to thrust his hips into your mouth, but your hand on his thigh makes it hard for him to do so. the wet sounds of your mouth makes him cry from how good it feels...
you remove your hand from the base of his shaft and place it on his other thigh, sinking down onto his dick furthur. your throat convulses around him, and he can feel it. he sucks in his tummy to try and relieve the harsh pleasure coursing through his veins.
he lifts his legs and wraps them around your shoulder, trying to bring you closer while he pants like a dog.
you slap his thighs and shakily, he pulls his legs down. you bring a hand to fondle his balls, and that's when he finally snaps.
with a loud cry, "bitte, mama, bitte!" he finally cums into your mouth, and the salty taste of his release coats your tongue. you pull away from him, a string of his cum mixed with your saliva connecting his tip to your bottom lip.
his cock lays limp on his tummy, occasionally spurting ropes of cum when you trace the veins on his shaft. you take out your phone from your bag and say, "pose for the camera, baby."
he does so like a good boy, doing two peace signs and you snap a quick photo to put as your wallpaper. checking out the time, you find out it's about 12 minutes left and you have to go soon.
you give his tip a quick kiss, and then his lips, "see you soon baby! don't miss me too much. if you're still pent up you can use my vibrator in my vanity. love you!"
"loove you..." he slurs, his vision hazy with overstimulated tears, watching you leave.
#tokio hotel#y2k#bill kaulitz#bill kaulitz x you#bill kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz smut#billy#tokio hotel x you#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel smut#tokio hotel fanfic#2000s
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What does the bad timeline au look like for your boys 👀
OOOOH, here we go!
(So, I did hint to this in the NFIF/UIFY Crossover when DvD met Omega, and Omega ran a simulation to see what DvD's future would be like. It was a general explanation, but I'm gonna go deeper into detail now --)
2020: So, first off, the Krang attack in 2020, same as in canon. Leon, 'Phael, Mikey, and DvD manage to survive the invasion by some miracle. For the first year, they just focus on staying alive and hidden from the aliens, but by the end of that first year the reunite with April and their friends and discover the beginnings of the Resistance. (Karai was separated from them all as well, but no one has seen her yet and so they all assume she's dead.)
2023-2025: Several years pass, and there is still no sign of Karai. While the boys are out doing a supply raid, they get ambushed by a Krang attack and are caught in a collapsing building. 'Phael freezes in panic and Leon takes a hit to rescue him, though the two are trapped in rubble together as they wait for Mikey and DvD to dig them out. However... Leon doesn't have that long, and encourages Raph as the leader of their family to stay strong and take care of Mikey and Donnie and April and everyone else...
Leo dies, having saved Raphael.
2025-2030: The three mourn their brother, but do their best to help lead the Resistance. In 2026, Cass gives birth to a son, and 'Phael helps her to raise the child. However, during these five years, tragedy strikes again. Michelangelo's hypoglycemia has been acting up due to the low rations, and in spite of their promptings to take care of himself, Mikey has been intentionally skipping meals so the others can take his rations, effectively starving himself. That, coupled with the injuries he gets from his ninpo overdrive, finally takes its toll on his frail body.
Mikey starves to death.
2030-2035: After Mikey's death, Donnie and Raph have a hard time staying cheerful. And to add to the grief, Cassandra dies in battle as well. But some good comes to light, as the group receives word of a lone stranger roaming New York and saving survivors while battling the Krang. After investigating, they discover that Karai has survived and become something of a folk hero! She joins their Resistance, bringing her own group of survivors with her. During this time, Raphael has grown to be a force to be reckoned with, and even the leader of the Resistance! Donatello is working around the clock to create weapons and grow nutritional, non-contaminated plants that they can eat safely. It's hard work, but no one said the end of the world was easy. DvD discovers a formula and equation that may work for time-travel, but he is unsure... he starts to build the machine.
2035-2044: The Resistance is not looking good. They can barely go above ground anymore without being picked off and slaughtered. The food and supplies are running low. 'Phael realizes that the end is coming, and there may be no escape. He has Donnie work full-time on the time machine, as it is their last hope. The Resistance grows smaller and smaller with each passing month, until it seems like it's just Raph, DvD, April, Karai, and Casey Jones Jr., along with a few special people like Big Mama Frida Kahlo. Finally, in 2044, the Krang find their hideout and begin to slaughter the last of the Resistance. Raph has CJ and Donnie evacuate into the labs with the time machine, and while Raph holds them off, Donnie begins to power the machine with his ninpo and what little electricity they have left. Raph instructs Casey on what to do, that he's sending him back in time -- not necessarily to stop the Krang, but more importantly to save Casey from the attack. If nothing else, Casey must survive. If Raph can do nothing else but make sure that his boy sees a world without war, where he is healthy... that will be enough for him. That will redeem his mistakes, how he let his brothers die because of his failures and fear. Casey has to live. He tells him to find his family, warn them, and to find his sister as well, because she --
Suddenly the Krang break into the room, and Casey is thrown into the time machine. Dee's ninpo goes into overdrive and powers the machine, though it costs him his life. Raph manages to hold the Krang off until the machine does it's duty, and then...
Raph and Donnie die sending Casey Jones Jr. into the past.
And yes, I did cry writing this.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#tutant meenage neetle teetles#until i found you#until i found you au#rottmnt until i found you#rottmnt leo#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt raph#rottmnt casey jr#bad timeline#rottmnt bad future#rottmnt bad timeline#writing angst#rottmnt fanfiction
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Two jobs, part 2
word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier
You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.
Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.
“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.
Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.
“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.
“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.
Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.
However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.
He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.
“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.
“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.
“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.
“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.
Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.
Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”
And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.
Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”
masterlist
taglist: @miyamizuna, @makkir0ll, @shiratorizawa-can-step-on-me, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @eeerreehhh, @f4iryk3i, @cosmiicdust, @malikazz243
#haikyu x reader#haikyu#haikyuu#hq x reader#fanfiction#haikyuu x reader#hq#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyu fluff#stepdad!osamu#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu#osamu x reader
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So I have been thinking about why Slayer seems pretty invested in what happens with A.B.A and Paracelsus as a couple, and I think it's because he and Sharon actually share a lot of similarities with A.B.A and Paracelsus.
They’re consistently depicted as ‘couples’. A.B.A and Paracelsus as an actual in game battle couple, while Sharon is on the sidelines but is very much present with Slayer prefight, post-fight etc.
Slayer as a Nightwalker also hungers and gains power from blood similar to Paracelsus, tho whether he NEEDS blood to survive I’m unsure (I think Nago survived hibernation without drinking blood so that would be similar to Para who survived 20 years not drinking blood).
Slayer has been able to satiate his own hunger without hurting/killing other people because Sharon is deathless and is a willing endless supply of blood for him. Paracelsus was provided blood by A.B.A tho not directly her own blood (usually), but also, it’s implied her being a homunculus made her tough enough to survive longer than usual as Paracelsus’ wielder. Paracelsus got over his desire of blood by choice though, whereas Slayer simply has an easy endless source of it.
Because of the above point, Slayer is actually really friendly to everyone and peace-loving despite his overwhelming power. He was disappointed with young Paracelsus who he felt was a bore and waste of time for being focused on killing and violence. Afterwards, Paracelsus would recognize that Slayer only wants peace when they next meet while Slayer realized he was already suppressing his power. By STRIVE, Paracelsus has adopted a philosophy close to pacifism as he never actively wants to fight or transform anymore.
Slayer has been alive for a very long time (longer than most of the cast if not all of them, even That Man) and Sharon cannot die, so they are eternal lovers. Similarly, A.B.A has said her and Paracelsus’ “love is eternal”. As Para is a magical foci and A.B.A is likely to be immortal or at least extremely long lived, this may also be their fate where they cannot die naturally. Bit iffy on A.B.A since her hair is actually growing, but whether she ages at all is another thing.
And Slayer can be possessive of Sharon in almost the same exact scenarios and in the same ways as A.B.A:
Getting jealous of himself, getting jealous of other people eyeing Sharon, and believing in obsession being a form of love, which explains SO MUCH about why he was so helpful with helping A.B.A contact the right people to put Paracelsus in a body.
He's coming up in the next DLC (as long as ArcSys doesn't fake out everyone with the silhouette again) so I really hope we get him commenting on A.B.A and Paracelsus' progress, since that was what he was interested in 20 IRL years ago.
#slayer#a.b.a guilty gear#paracelsus guilty gear#guilty gear strive#sharon guilty gear#slayer guilty gear
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Downpour
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
Summary: Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.
Word Count: 1k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: One suggestive line, Din having nightmares mentioned ✯ Author's Note: I miss the Razor Crest but daydreaming about domestic fluff in the cabin on Nevarro scratches an itch in my brain in all the best ways. I really want to cuddle with Din Djarin during a rainstorm. Is it too much to ask?! Thanks to @decembermidnight for betaing this one for me!! 🩷
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
The roof of the cabin on Nevarro has never felt like the most sturdy part of the modest-sized dwelling you share with your riduur. Especially not in the middle of an unseasonably fierce rainstorm, the severity of which has you groggily blinking awake in the pitch blackness.
Your immediate concern is for the mischievous child you tucked in just across the hallway shortly after sunset. You hope that the rain has not disturbed him and that he remains bundled in blankets, surrounded in his crib by the mountain of plushies which have been either bought for him by you and Din or gifted to him by the various people throughout the galaxy who cannot resist how charming he is.
Mercifully, your sensitive ears do not detect any wails. So, with Grogu seemingly still sleeping soundly, you turn your attention to his father. When you do not hear Din’s soft snores beside you, you vocalise your concern.
“Din, are you awake?” you mumble without turning around to face him.
Din shuffles towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. With a wordless response, he squeezes you tightly. You realise that Din is drawing comfort from your presence. Your heart grows heavy as you realise he must be alarmed by the rainstorm.
“Are you scared of the rain, my big scary Mandalorian?” you question. It is an attempt to lighten the mood, without fussing over him too much. You know how much such playful teasing gets underneath his skin.
“I’m not scared,” Din huffs.
You turn over, raising your eyebrows at him questioningly.
In the darkness, you can barely make out his handsome features. There is a soft light from the hallway, and you can faintly see his brown eyes sparkling slightly, even in the low light.
The lack of light is not an issue. You have mapped every inch of Din's face with your fingers and lips well enough to know that he will be furrowing his brow at you, exposing the wrinkle above the bridge of his nose that you love to gently trace with your fingertips whenever it becomes pronounced in times of stress.
You reach up to touch the lines of his face, as though you can ease all of his worries with just your touch, “What would all those bounties you once collected think if they could see you now?” you muse.
Din guffaws.
“Imagine if everyone you struck fear into the hearts of with merely your presence could see you now? Maybe they would feel silly for ever being so scared of a man who is scared of a little rainstorm…”
“Riduur…” Din warns, voice deep and firm.
He can excuse the teasing about the past. You have held him through enough bouts of sobbing in this very bunk after the visions which haunt him in slumber have torn him from sleep to earn the privilege of lightly teasing him. When nightmarish sights of his past sins overwhelmed him, you were always there, dutifully picking up his pieces.
But Din Djarin will never accept a charge of cowardice.
You know he is not seriously scared. Din is no coward. And he knows that you would never seriously lay such a charge at his door.
“You know I’m only teasing you, handsome,” you say with a wink you hope he can see.
You realise that Din has never lived somewhere for long enough to hear the rain pattering on the roof. His covert cloistered in the caves of Concordia. The Razor Crest was home but never docked in one place long enough for it to truly function as such.
The fact that until now, Din has been denied the simple pleasure of listening to a rainstorm in the arms of one you love is yet another detail of his life which brings you anguish.
“I think it’s very sweet, actually," you whisper, hoping he knows you meant no malice, "It's our first proper rainstorm in this cabin," you add, ensuring that he knows you understand this is new for him.
Despite how much Din's past makes your heart ache, you will not wallow in pity for him. Instead, it strengthens your resolve to make sure Din is loved every moment of the eternity he has vowed to spend with you.
You lean in for a gentle kiss, “Roll over and let me hold you, my love,” you whisper against his plush lips.
Din sighs and then leans in to kiss you again before he complies. A touch so slow and sweet, so different to the frenzied way his lips claimed yours hours before. Satisfied, he agrees to your proposal, flipping over with a grunt.
You position yourself so your chest is flush with his firm back, placing a kiss on the centre of his back, between his broad shoulders. Din sighs in contentment. You smile, relieved you can comfort him like this. It is a privilege unique to you out of everyone in the galaxy.
You slip your hands underneath the soft cotton shirt he wears to bed and absentmindedly trace circles onto the warm expanse of his stomach. His body is firm beneath your fingers thanks to his muscular physique; but there is a hint of softness there, which increases each year as he ages.
You do not mind one bit. It only makes his body better suited to cuddles.
This warrior who once terrified everyone is now a little softer at the edges, his toughness gradually eroded by the love he feels for his son and you, his riduur.
"Thank you," Din sleepily mumbles before he drifts off again, no longer disturbed by the thudding of the rain against the roof.
Fierce independence borne out of trauma had meant that Din had never previously known the simple pleasure of listening to rainfall pattering against the roof. It was a new reverberation, one initially alien and alarming to his highly attuned senses.
Fortunately, Din was not afraid for long. Now, he has you to hold him through the storm. There is no more fear or anxiety as he cuddles with you, his riduur, while the sound continues outside.
You whisper, "I love you, Din," before sleep's comforting embrace takes you too and you join Din somewhere peaceful. Far away from the downpour.
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#din djarin fic#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#the mandalorian x reader#mando x reader#mando x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fluff#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#my fics
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like you would’ve think Yoichi would sympathize with Shigaraki, who is his brother’s victim. Who AFO used horrifically in a brutal and elaborate scheme to try to bring back Yoichi. Literally Tenko’s existence was plotted by AFO to nab OFA so he can get Yoichi back.
It’s not Yoichi’s fault, obviously, but at least you would hope he have some response to it beyond thinking of Shigaraki as a “heinous calamity… the mightiest villain with amor forged from untold malice and hatred.”
And you would think Nana would try to interact with her grandson before she disappeared. That she would directly face Shigaraki and apologize to her last remaining blood relative and the legacy of her actions, after realizing her abandoning Kotarou caused a trauma that was carried on to the next generation; for having given up on him and decided he should be killed for the greater good. To ask him his name and to give some kind words.
But nah, let’s instead have her interact with not even a real ghost of Kotarou, but a non-responsive memory. Let’s have her weep for the already dead and gone, only more or less off-handedly apologize in thought to her living grandson in his traumatic core that they punched their way into.
And you would think Deku would actually care about Shigaraki beyond just The Crying Child. That he would try to talk to him. That he would search for whatever clues he can find about Shigaraki - interrogating captured League members (MR. COMPRESS), asking All Might and Gran about the Shimuras, analyzing his flashbacks to all his encounters with Shigaraki - because he’s working hard to know and understand his opponent, to find out what Shigaraki wants. That he would object to a plan called SKY COFFIN that’s designed to hurt and subdue Shigaraki and intended to serve as his metaphorical grave; that when Gran Torino tells him “killing is a form of salvation,” Deku would actually say something out loud instead of silence.
But he only ever cared about the innocent child he saw crying, as if time isn’t linear and that sad little boy didn’t directly grow into the man in front of him.
For all the talk of ‘saving’ Shigaraki, I just don’t think Deku (and the vestiges that ostensibly support his quest) actually seem to care about Shigaraki - as a victim, as a person - all that much. The result is that we’re mainly focused on how supposedly cool and merciful and brave Deku is for half-heartedly considering the idea after receiving a psychic vision of a sad innocent child, with his ultimate plan being to literally beat Shigaraki’s traumatic backstory out of him.
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HELLO MERA I come with some Azul thoughts because mafia Azul is so !!!! ><
Imagine that your parents worked under him and they messed up greatly... OR they were his enemies and he finally got them cornered (figuratively or literally haha). And to make up for it... they offer your hand in marriage to the mafia boss! Though, they definitely didn't expect him to actually accept...
Young mafia Azul that has been gaining a lot of influence recently and is on his way to become a big shot in the mafia world... and when your parents fiasco happens, you're still a child so you don't even get to say anything. You get sent to the area where Azul operates though you may not even see him for years, he had other business to attend rather than look after a child/teen. He's building an empire after all! So it's only when you grow older that you're met with ojiisan boss Azul who's now very happy to fulfill the contract he made with your parents! Congrats, you're the most feared mafia boss' housewife now <3
AAAAAA ANON!!!!!!! OTL OTL this is so yummy...... not thinking much of your betrothal because Azul's never around and your parents don't say much, so in your mind he feels so nonexistent. In fact, you live a fairly normal life (albeit one that is very heavily monitored in secret just to make sure your parents don't go back on their deal with him). Azul is kind enough to let you finish your university studies before he decides to swoop in and finally make good on the promise your parents made.
orz marriage to mafia ojiisan Azul....... such an extravagant event. You're dressed in the finest of wedding attire, as is your soon-to-be husband, and people from all over attend to congratulate the both of you. You suspect most of this is just empty courtesy. Who would want to make an enemy out of one of the most feared people in the underground? >_< there's no point in escaping or trying to get out of this with lukewarm excuses. You try to tell Azul your parents would never agree to this and he's more than happy to show you the contract they signed. It crushes your hopes. You're quiet for the rest of the ceremony.
Azul isn't going to be a terrible husband; he promises he will always adore you and keep you safe and content. You just need to learn to accept this new union and then all will be well. And even if you continue to resist him, there are other ways to stamp out that disobedient fire of yours. If he didn't on your wedding night, then he's definitely knocking you up during your honeymoon. A child will certainly be enough to calm you down and direct your focus to a sweet, happy, and domestic life with him. <3
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Strains and Stresses
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader
Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.8k
A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3
You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.
Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.
For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.
From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.
You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.
He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.
It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.
After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.
You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.
It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.
You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.
It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.
Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.
As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.
"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.
You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.
You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.
Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.
He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.
He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.
You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.
At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.
Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."
He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.
The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.
"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.
Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.
You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.
"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.
He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper
"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.
He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.
When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."
He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.
You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.
"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.
He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.
He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.
An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.
How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.
#bridgerton fic#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton fluff#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton fanfiction#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fanfic#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x female reader#fluff#cutie pie anthony#bridgerton angst#light angst#angst#angst with a happy ending#angst with fluff#anthony bridgerton angst#meanie anthony#imagine#angst imagine#fluff imagine
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