#you'll accompany me
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You’ll Accompany Me- Chp 15
Jensen x reader
Word Count- 1737
Warnings- We’re still on the angst train, language, a tiny bit of fluff if you squint
Y/N sighed as she walked through the front door of Jensen’s house. He had broken her heart and left her in tears on the kitchen floor the last time she was there. Now, she had to stay there for the rest of her pregnancy. It was a better option than staying in the hospital for months, but she honestly wondered just how much better it would be. Could she stay in her ex-boyfriend’s home and not be tortured by the heartbreak she endured? Or could they manage to get along enough for her to have the baby and then move back out? Only time would tell.
She made her way over to the couch to sit down while Jensen, Jared, and Gen brought in what she had asked for from her apartment. Her eyes never left Jensen as he moved around the room, putting down the boxes of her things in the living room to be moved to their designated spot later. It wasn’t a question of if she was still in love with him. Of course, she was. But, he had truly destroyed her when he walked out on her that day, and she didn’t know if that could ever be forgiven. She wouldn’t keep him from being in their child’s life if that’s what he wanted, but she didn’t know if he could ever be a part of hers again. Not in the romantic sense.
“You okay, baby?” Jensen asked her when he noticed her staring off into space.
“I’m fine, Jensen, and I’m not your baby anymore. So, please stop with the pet names,” she murmured, her heart hurting with the use of his term of endearment.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head and walking back out the door to his truck.
“Y/N, take it easy on him, okay? He still loves you and feels like shit about what he did,” Jared stated, making her a little angry.
“Really? And this isn’t hard on me? He doesn’t have to come back to the house that I left him in with his heart shattered on the floor. He did that to me! I get that he feels bad, but this isn’t a picnic for me, either,” she shouted, her temper getting the best of her.
“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Gen chimed in, coming to sit by Y/N, “Let’s all calm down and take a deep breath. No one is saying this isn’t hard for you, Y/N. Jared just meant that Jay is letting this eat him up on the inside. You both have a lot of healing to do, and maybe it’s best to try and move past all this together.”
“I’m trying, Gen. I am, but I’m still hurt. When I look at him, I can still see his face when he left and went to Dee’s that day,” she whispered, wiping a tear away that escaped, “I promise I’ll try not to be so hard on him, but I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to take him back.”
“Hey, no one is asking that of you. We just want you guys to be able to live with each other in peace. You don’t need the stress of arguing with him all the time. Me and Jared are genuinely worried for you and the baby. He just doesn’t know how to express that appropriately,” Gen chuckled, giving Y/N a hug when she joined in.
“Yeah, what she said,” Jared huffed with faux annoyance.
“Thanks, guys. You’re right. We can’t possibly make it these next months at each other’s throats. I’ll be nicer,” Y/N rolled her eyes but a small smile on her face.
“Is everything okay?” Jensen asked, noticing Gen hugging Y/N on the couch. No matter how angry she was with him, he still loved her with everything he was and couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting.
“It’s fine. Gen was giving me advice on how to handle these months I have ahead of me,” she said, Jensen nodding and turning to walk away.
“Hey, Jay,” Jensen turned around to see what she needed, “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I want to get along.”
“No need to apologize. I want to get along too, Y/N,” he agreed with a smile, but his face fell as soon as he turned around.
He wanted to get along. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he wanted to have her back in his arms, in his bed, and not just sexually. He wanted all of her again, but he knew he didn’t deserve it. He had hurt her deeply, and he had to deal with the consequences. He could only hope that she would forgive him and they could try again one day. But, if not, he would still be there for her, always. She was the love of his life and now the mother of one of his children. Even if they never reconnected romantically, there would never be another woman for him. She was it for him, and he prayed that she would think of him like that again in the future.
Y/N was sitting in the bed in the guest room watching tv. She had insisted on not being in the master bedroom. It was hard enough being in the house for now. She couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same bed that she had shared with him. That was asking for it. So, there she was, in the guest bedroom of her ex-boyfriend’s house, her mind racing with all the memories of how she ended up there.
She knew that Jensen hadn’t wanted any more kids, but she still didn’t understand his reaction. Sure, she was terrified when she found out she was pregnant, but he had been irate. He had said that he had reacted that way because he was scared, but she had difficulty swallowing that explanation. She had been afraid, but she hadn’t exploded. She hadn’t been so upset that she ruined their entire relationship. She wiped at the tears slipping down her cheeks and took a deep breath. She had to quit thinking about all this if she was ever going to be able to live with him.
She looked around her room at all the things Jensen had put away. He had insisted that he unpack all her things for her so she didn’t have to and would be comfortable. She knew he was trying, but it just wasn’t enough. Not now, anyway. Maybe, one day, she could let it all go, but it wasn’t right now. A knock on her door made her jump, ending her reverie.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jensen asked, poking his head in the door.
“I’m good. Just watching some tv.”
“I- uh, I brought you something to eat,” he stuttered, opening the door and walking in with a tray,” I made you grilled cheese and soup. Chicken noodle, not tomato. I know you don’t like tomato soup.”
“Thank you, Jay,” she said with a genuine smile.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m doing my job. I’m here to take care of you both,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His tell that he was nervous.
“Jay, you don’t have to be nervous around me. I know we aren’t a couple now, but we were friends for sixteen years. Am I still hurt? Yes, but I’m not going to yell or bite your head off,” she chuckled, patting the bed for him to come sit down.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he sighed, sitting beside her on the bed and giving her the food.
“I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable, Jay. Walking around me like you are on eggshells makes me uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for everything, too,” she laughed.
“I’m so- Look, I should be apologizing to you all day, every day, Y/N. I fucked up,” he sighed.
“You did, but make it up to me by being my friend again. That’s what I want,” she smiled, making his heart flutter.
“I’ll try, I will, but it will be hard,” he admitted.
“Why?”
“Because I’m still in love with you. I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. I want us again.”
“Jensen,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I know you love me. I love you, but I can’t let it go. Not right now, maybe not ever. I know you said you’re sorry, and I appreciate that. But you don’t fully realize how you broke me that day. You left me to go stay with your ex-wife when I told you I was having your baby. How am I supposed to just let that go? How am I supposed to know you won’t leave me again when it’s something that scares you?” she sniffled, the hurt washing over again.
“Y/N, I don’t know how many times to say I’m sorry and that I royally fucked up! Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg? Grovel at your feet? I’ll do it! Just tell me what I have to do!” he pleaded, his eyes welling up with tears.
“Give me time, and don’t pressure me. I’m going to have to work through this on my own. And I can’t promise I’ll ever be able to be your girlfriend again. But you have to give me time to figure it out on my own, okay? Please?”
“Okay. I won’t bring it up again,” he groaned, standing to leave.
“Jay, don’t be like that. I’m sorry you didn’t get the answer you wanted right now, but please, don’t be like that with me. I’m asking as your friend, don’t make this harder on either of us.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll take you as my friend rather than nothing at all. Forgive me?”
“Of course, Jay,” she smiled.
He didn’t say another word. He leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead and walked out the door, shutting softly behind him. She threw her head back on her pillow and groaned. She hated hurting him, but she just couldn’t move past her own hurt at that moment. She sat up, took a bite of her sandwich, and rolled her eyes. Living with him was going to be a lot harder than she had anticipated.
#jensen ackles x reader#jensen x reader#jensen ackles fanfiction#Jensen Ackles#jensen fanfic#jensen ackles rpf#jensen ackles x female!reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural family#Supernatural Fiction#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#spnfandom#SPN FANDOM#Jensengirl83 series#you'll accompany me
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I just read an article on The three musketeers and it has left me teary eyed
#I didn't even read the book while being nine I only watch the dog show why has it hit me so xD#It is by Arturo Pérez Reverte which is usually 🗡🗡🗡 but this article was very sweet#I am contemplating sharing some fragments and perhaps translating them (the article is in Spanish)#I love that feeling of... of getting old alongside the characters‚ of feeling life weighting you down‚#of losing so much spirit and yet retaining so much love.Of looking back and remembering with the same fondness the friends and the enemies#And ultimately that feeling of having some part of yourself die alongside the characters when they start dying‚every time‚with every reread#Closing the book slowly as if closing a tomb. Feeling some part of your young self irrevocably gone#Because these characters‚ these books‚ have accompanied you through life‚ and every time someone dies‚ every time the book is finished‚#there is really a part of you dying‚ or a part of yourself you notice has died or grown old and couldn't see before#And yet a few years later you can pick up the book again‚ open it‚ and it will be again the first Monday of April‚#and D'Artagnan will again be eighteen‚ and again you'll be for a bit the young self you left behind thirty years ago‚#riding alongside him to meet the best friends you ever had#It was such a loving ode to beloved books that accompany us through life and make us part of who we are#Like that poem by Neruda I quote all the time#'muchas cosas / me lo dijeron todo. / No sólo me tocaron / o las tocó mi mano‚ / sino que acompa��aron / de tal modo / mi existencia /#que conmigo existieron / y fueron para mí tan existentes / que vivieron conmigo media vida / y morirán conmigo media muerte'#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later#watched#*#Whatever
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It Burns For You
𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ���ʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.
"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears
A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.
"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask
He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.
"I already ate it." He lied
"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.
"Is it your first day?" He asks
"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said
Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.
You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words
"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."
The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.
"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.
"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said
Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.
"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "
And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.
"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.
Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.
He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.
"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds
"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.
"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says
"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks
He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.
"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."
His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.
"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."
Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.
He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,
"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"
He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.
Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.
"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking
You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.
"What're you doing?" You ask quietly
"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.
The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.
"Coryo...what was that?" You ask
"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip
"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask
"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."
Part 2 is out now!
Series Masterlist
#the hunger games#fanfic#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#katniss everdeen#mockingjay#peeta mellark#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#lucy gray baird#tom blyth#rachel zegler#jennifer lawrence#coriolanus snow fluff#coriolanus x you#sejanus plinth#tbosas#thg#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut
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I'm getting depressingly good at identifying the formula for Pop Academic Books About ADHD.
Regardless of their philosophy it pretty much goes like this:
1. Emotionally sensitive essay about the struggle of ADHD and the author's personal experience with it as both a person with ADHD and a healthcare professional.
2. Either during or directly following this, a lightly explicated catalogue of symptoms, illustrated by anecdotes from patient case studies. Optional: frequent, heavy use of metaphor to explain ADHD-driven behavior.
3. Several chapters follow, each dedicated to a symptom; these have a mini-formula of their own. They open with a patient case study, discuss the highly relatable aspects of the specific symptom or behavior, then offer some lightweight examples of a treatment for the symptom, usually accompanied by follow up results from the earlier case studies.
4. Somewhere around halfway-to-two-thirds through the book, the author introduces the more in-depth explication of the treatment system (often their own homebrew) they are advocating. These are generally both personally-driven (as opposed to suggested cultural changes, which makes sense given these books' target audience, more on this later) and composed of an elaborate system of either behavior alteration or mental reframing. Whether this system is actually implementable by the average reader varies wildly.
5. A brief optional section on how to make use of ADHD as a tool (usually referring to ADHD or some of its symptoms as a superpower at least once). Sometimes this section restates the importance of using the systems from part 4 to harness that superpower. Frequently, if present, it feels like an afterthought.
6. Summation and list of further resources, often including other books which follow this formula.
I know I'm being a little sarcastic, but realistically there's nothing inherently wrong about the formula, like in itself it's not a red flag. It's just hilariously recognizable once you've noticed it.
It makes sense that these books advocate for the Reader With ADHD undertaking personal responsibility for their treatment, since these are in the tradition of self-help publishing. They're aimed at people who are already interested in doing their own research on their disability and possible ways to handle it. It's not really fair to ask them to be policy manuals, but I do find it interesting that even books which advocate stuff like volunteering (for whatever reason, usually to do with socialization issues and isolation, often DBT-adjacent) never suggest disability activism either generally or with an ADHD-specific bent.
None of these books suggest that perhaps life with ADHD could be made easier with increased accommodations or ease of medication access, and that it might be in a person's best interest to engage in political advocacy surrounding these and other disability-related issues. Or that activism related to ADHD might help to give someone with ADHD a stronger sense of ownership of their unique neurology. Or that if you have ADHD the idea of activism or even medical self-advocacy is crushingly stressful, and ways that stress might be dealt with.
It does make me want to write one of my own. "The Deviant Chaos Guide To Being A Miscreant With ADHD". Includes chapters on how to get an actual accurate assessment, tips for managing a prescription for a controlled substance, medical and psychiatric self-advocacy for people who are conditioned against confrontation, When To Lie About Being Neurodivergent, policy suggestions for ADHD-related legislation, tips for activism while executively dysfunked, and to close the book a biting satire of the pop media idea of self-care. ("Feeling sad? Make yourself a nice pot of chicken soup from scratch and you'll feel better in no time. Stay tuned after this rambling personal essay for the most mediocre chicken soup recipe you've ever seen!" "Have you considered planning and executing an overly elaborate criminal heist as a way to meet people and stay busy?")
Every case study or personal anecdote in the book will have a different name and demographics attached but will also make it obvious that they are all really just me, in the prose equivalent of a cheap wig, writing about my life. "Kelly, age seven, says she struggles to stay organized using the systems neurotypical children might find easy. I had to design my own accounting spreadsheet in order to make sure I always have enough in checking to cover the mortgage, she told me, fidgeting with the pop socket on her smartphone."
I feel a little bad making fun, because these books are often the best resource people can get (in itself concerning). It's like how despite my dislike of AA, I don't dunk on it in public because I don't want to offer people an excuse not to seek help. It feels like punching down to criticize these books, even though it's a swing at an industry that is mainly, it seems, here to profit from me. But one does get tired of skimming the hype for the real content only to find the real content isn't that useful either.
Les (not his real name) was diagnosed at the age of 236. Charming, well-read, and wealthy, he still spent much of his afterlife feeling deeply inadequate about his perceived shortcomings. "Vampire culture doesn't really acknowledge ADHD as a condition," he says. "My sire wouldn't understand, even though he probably has it as well. You should see the number of coffins containing the soil of his homeland that he's left lying forgotten all over Europe." A late diagnosis validated his feelings of difference, but on its own can't help when he hyperfocuses on seducing mortals who cross his path and forgets to get home before sunrise. "I have stock in sunburn gel companies," he jokes.
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Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)
AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3
note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy
Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.
Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.
Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.
Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."
Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.
Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."
"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..
Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."
"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.
Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.
Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.
Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."
"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.
"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)
Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.
Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.
You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.
"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.
"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."
Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.
Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.
Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.
"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."
"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.
Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.
"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."
You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.
Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."
Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.
"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.
"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."
"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.
"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'
Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"
"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.
"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.
Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."
He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."
Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.
Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.
tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO
#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji#toji zenin x reader#toji fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#zenin clan#megumi fushiguro
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Got an interesting take on eldritch horror for all you writers out there. It's a bit of a roundabout schlep to reach the actual idea, but writers tend to be readers so I hold you'll stick with me til we get there.
So, consider a 2D creature. Little flat dude, living on the ground. No concept of "up" or "down." He's 2D, he just doesn't parse the concepts and can't perceive them anyways.
He sees you. What he actually sees is just the 2D cross section of you where you intersect with his 2D world, which is probably your footprints. So, as far as he can tell, you are a pair of footprints that are.... apparently one being? He doesn't get how it works exactly, but it's not too far out there, so he just kind of accepts that, yes, humans are The Two That Are One. Spooky. They always seem to use the singular to refer to the pair of themselves, and only differentiate between themselves as Left or Right. But other paired instances of The Two That Are One are, in fact, separate entities. So they're only in sets of two, unless accompanied by a companion called "Cane," which they are sometimes, or even a pair of companions called "Crutches." When Crutches are present, sometimes one of The Two That Are One will be missing entirely. It's a little confusing.
But wait, what now? They disappear and reappear in sequence, teleporting in turns. He never sees them just move like a 2D being, always the stop-start teleporting. Apparently this strange power is called "walking," and its accomplished by The Two That Are One moving through an unseen dimension called "Up," through a process called "lifting" themselves and re-entering the real world farther away in the direction they wanted to go. He can accept the idea of unseen dimensions, and he vaguely gets the idea that one of The Two That Are One must remain anchored in the real world to prevent something called "falling," which is some kind of uncontrolled movement through the unperceivable dimension of "Down." Which is the same dimension as "Up," but...... backwards? Reversed? He's not really clear, but "Falling Down" is presumably bad, so The Two That Are One keep one of themselves here in the real world to prevent it.
Except if they do something called "jumping." Which consists of gathering up their power to hurl themselves through the Up dimension together to reappear together somewhere else in the real world. He isn't sure why they Walk instead of Jump, since it seems better to take both of The Two That Are One together at the same time, but okay.
Okay, what the hell, they can Walk through impenetrable barriers like the great wall of Sidewalk Chalk? How do they go through that? What? They went "Over?" The hell is "Over?" Like 'around' but through the unseen dimension of Up? But they couldn't Walk through the barrier of Wall. Why could they go "Over" Sidewalk Chalk but not Wall?
And they can't go between the four small obstacles of Refrigerator Feet. The area between them is safe from The Two That Are One, for the four Refrigerator Feet are connected to each other in the strange and eldritch dimension of Up. The barriers are too powerful to be moved by The Two That Are One, and it (they?) cannot enter the real world where it is blocked by such powerful forces.
Got all that?
Okay, now consider a 4 dimensional elder god and how we 3D entities would perceive them.
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘
Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.
Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!
Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.
He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.
He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.
That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.
He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.
So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.
"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.
He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.
Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.
He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.
Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.
Your name.
Oh, how he remembered you.
You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...
But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.
You were a little brat was what you were.
Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.
Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".
They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.
He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.
You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.
His little siblings were much cuter.
And he did not hesitate to say that.
"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.
"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."
This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.
Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.
You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.
How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?
Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!
Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.
All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."
Never before had he felt so cheated.
That begun his feud with a two year old.
Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.
It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.
"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.
He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.
That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife
If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.
Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.
But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.
In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.
So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.
"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."
The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.
"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.
In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.
Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.
It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.
He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.
But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.
His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.
His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.
Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.
What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?
With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.
His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.
The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.
But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.
This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.
And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.
Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.
He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.
"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."
Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.
"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."
To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.
Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.
You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.
He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.
So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.
"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."
He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.
"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."
He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.
"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."
He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.
"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."
He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.
"And loving you as you love me."
Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.
Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.
"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."
His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.
"And you will forever be mine."
His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.
Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.
Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.
As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.
But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.
You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.
He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.
The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.
All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.
"I do.", you said.
He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.
"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.
After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.
Fervently, passionately kissed you.
It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.
But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.
After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.
"Could we take a walk in the garden?"
While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.
The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.
"Won't you be cold?"
"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.
"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.
He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.
And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.
"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.
"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.
"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."
To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.
The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".
His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.
"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."
Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.
But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."
He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.
So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.
"Let's warm you up, huh?"
Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.
So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.
#genshin x reader#childe x reader#genshin x you#genshin childe#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin ajax#childe x you#genshin tartaglia x reader#tartagalia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x reader#genshin tartaglia#childe angst#childe fluff#enemies to lovers#genshin childe x reader#childe genshin impact#childe imagines#childe x fem!reader#tartaglia x fem!reader#tartaglia fluff#tartaglia genshin impact#ajax genshin impact#tartaglia imagines#childe fanfiction#tartaglia fanfiction#genshin impact fanfics#genshin impact fluff#genshin imagines
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fucking insane the way i ended up just filtering the word rmdn entirely. like am here being like "haha religious trauma what religious trauma" then this damned 29 days come around once a year and i fucking dissociate for a good minute each time any mention of it come across me ungodly eyes and ears.
#idefk why this affect me this much. if anything it prolly shouldve been the prayer part#but nah it's just this one fucking month. ive literally gone to mosques and musholla accompanying me mates no probs but one word#ONE WORD#i fucking shrink like some fucking pathetic shit chicken#words cannot convey how much i fucking hate this bullshit#i wish i can literally just die for one whole month and get resurrected the next#hibernation isnt going to cut it i know that shit will chase me down to the nightmare realm#anyway. that'll be the last i rant about this topic i swear#i legit cant handle this anymore i already have to deal with it irl i dont want to see any mention of it in my escape as well#someone come kill me#you'll actually do me a huge favour please just fucking kill me
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You'll Accompany Me Chp 16
Jensen x reader
Word Count-2884
Warnings- Angst, Language, Some Fluff
A/N- I know it's been too long since I've posted a chapter with these two. But, for the ones who've been keeping track, I think you'll like this chapter ;)
Three months later
“Are you sure you will be okay while I’m gone?” Jensen asked Y/N again for the millionth time, or so it felt like.
“Yes, Jay. Like I’ve told you oh so many times before, I’ll be fine. Gen is going to come to stay with me and help me with what I need.”
“Okay, okay. I worry about you guys, you know,” he huffed, knowing he was asking too much but just wanted her and the baby to be safe while he was gone.
“I know you do, and I appreciate it. But we’ll be in good hands. You’re only going to be there for two days,” she smiled, hoping it would ease his worrying a little.
“Okay, well, it’s time for me to go. I’ll have my phone on me at all times, and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me!”
“Will do, Jay. Now, go give those fangirls something to swoon over,” she laughed, making him join her.
“I’ll be home before you know it, darlin’,” he whispered as he placed a soft kiss on her temple and walked out the door.
Y/N hadn’t been able to take him back, but they had moved past the anger and awkwardness the last few months. They were back to being the friends they had always been, and she was grateful. Even though she was still madly in love with him, she couldn’t get past the last bit of hesitation she had to be with him again. He had softened her heart towards him in the weeks she had been staying with him, but something kept her from letting him have her heart again.
He had been nothing but amazing with her since she left the hospital. He ensured that she had everything she needed and pretty much anything she wanted, too. She knew he was doing everything in his power to gain her forgiveness, but that’s what he didn’t understand. She had forgiven him a long time ago, but she was too scared to let him in her life as they had been. The fear that he would leave again when something was too much for him kept her from even considering taking him back. She wished that she could get past that fear, but she didn’t think that anything would be able to change the way she was thinking.
“Hey, girl. What’s got you looking like someone killed your puppy?” Jared’s voice brought her out of her reverie.
“What? I was just thinking about something,” she huffed, rolling her eyes at her giant friend.
“Were you thinking about a certain bow-legged man, perhaps?” He smirked, laughing when she threw the couch pillow at him.
“Why are you here? Jensen left about ten minutes ago to meet you,” she asked, trying to change the subject quickly.
“I know. He’s in the car. He forgot his phone charger and was going to come back and get it, but I told him I would so I could check on you. How are you feeling, by the way?”
“Pregnant.”
“Very funny, Y/N. Seriously, are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, Jared. Thank you for asking, but like I told Jay, I’m not going to fall apart. I’m on light bed rest. I’m not crippled,” she chuckled when he rolled his eyes.
“I know you’re on bed rest and not crippled, but you are still on doctor's orders to take it easy because you’re having complications. We’re all just worried and want to make sure that everything is going how it should,” he sighed, wishing she would let people ask how she was doing without an argument every time.
“I’m sorry. I know you mean well. It’s just tiring to have to tell everyone you’re okay all the time. I promise, if anything is out of the ordinary, I’ll let one of y’all know ASAP.”
“Okay, that’s a good enough answer for me,” he bent over to kiss her forehead, “I’ll keep Jay out of trouble while we’re gone.”
“More like he needs to keep you out of trouble,” she cackled when he stuck his tongue out at her.
“Gen is dropping off the kids with my parents, and then she will be here. She wanted to take the chance to have a girls' weekend with no kids. So, y’all behave, huh?”
“Scout’s honor,” she said, holding her fingers in the salute.
“If you say so,” he laughed, “I’ll see you ladies in a few days.”
“Bye, Jared,” she waved, smiling as she watched him wave back and walk out the front door.
Jensen was sitting in the green room that Saturday afternoon. They had arrived in time to see Louden Swain sing for the Saturday Night Special concert. Rob had asked him to sing, but he didn’t know if that was something he wanted to do this time. He had a lot on his mind and didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to get up there and sing this time.
Things had been going a lot better with Y/N, but she still refused to even discuss restarting their relationship, and it was driving him fucking crazy. He had promised to give her time, but it had been over three months since everything happened, and he had tried in every way he knew to show her he was sorry. He didn’t know what else to do, making him want to cry. All he wanted was to have her back, hold her in his arms, fall asleep with her by his side again, but that didn’t seem like it would ever happen.
“Earth to Jay,” Jared’s laughter made him jump, bringing his attention to his friend.
“Yeah? What?”
“I said your name five times, man. You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I guess I was lost in thought,” he sighed, “What did you need?”
“I was going to ask, are you going to sing tonight, but now, I want to know what’s got you looking like you’re fighting back tears. Is it her?”
“Of course it’s her!” he shouted, jumping from his seat, “She’s all I can ever think about, and she doesn't want me. I’ve done everything, man. I don’t know what to do anymore to show her I’m sorry and that I’ll never do that to her again.”
“I’m so sorry, Jay. I don’t know what to tell you to do. But I will tell you that I don’t think you should give up. I think she just needs a push over whatever edge that’s keeping her from taking you back,” Jared said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to comfort him.
“I’ve done everything I can think of except some huge gesture to make a fool of myself, and I don’t think something like that will work, either.”
“Would it hurt to try? You know her better than anyone else. Think of something that means a lot to her and make a fool of yourself if that’s what it takes. I can’t stand to see you both like this. Y’all are meant to be together, and I want that to happen for you guys,” he patted Jensen on the back, “Just think about it, man. Maybe that big gesture is just what she needs to see from you.”
Jensen kept quiet as Jared left the green room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Maybe Jared was right, and he needed to show her that he meant everything he said with some grand thing, but he had no idea what that could be. It’s not like he hadn’t thought of this before, but any ideas were alluding him, and it pissed him off. Why was it so hard to think of something to do to show her that she’s all he wants and will ever want? Just as he was going to leave the room, the song playing changed, and he had an epiphany. He knew now what he wanted to do, which meant he had to find his friend.
Y/N was sitting on her bed in the guest room, sipping on a cup of coffee and relaxing in peace and quiet. The boys were on their way home, so Gen had left to go get her kids and get them home in time to meet Jared. She knew Jensen would be home soon, and an hour or two by herself wouldn’t hurt anything. She was thinking about taking a short nap when her phone chimed with a text from Gen.
Gen- You have to watch this! Now!
She looked at the link in the message and saw it was a video of Jensen from the convention. Gen knew she never liked watching those videos, so why was she sending her this one?
Y/N- You know I don’t watch those.
Gen- But you NEED to watch this one. Trust me! Call me later, and you better watch that video right now!
She rolled her eyes but sighed in defeat. Gen making such a big deal about this video piqued her curiosity, making her click on the link with a groan. She didn’t know if she was prepared to see what was on the clip, and she wasn’t. The video was of Jensen walking onstage at the concert; what happened next would change everything.
“Hey, guys. I wanted to come out and sing something special tonight. I’m not going to go into detail or answer questions about it, but I messed up and hurt someone I never wanted to hurt. Now, I need to show her that I’m sorry, that I know what I did was wrong, and that I swear to her that it will never happen again. This is one of her favorite songs. Darlin’, this is for you.”
When the music started playing, Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. Not only was this one of her favorite songs, but the meaning behind him choosing it made her heart ache. She felt the tears stinging her eyes as she continued watching.
Darlin' I, I can't explain
Where did we lose our way?
Girl it's drivin' me insane
And I know I just need one more chance
To prove my love to you
And if you come back to me
I'll guarantee
That I'll never let you go
Can we go back to the days our love was strong?
Can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong?
Can somebody tell me how to get things back
The way they use to be?
Oh God give me a reason
I'm down on bended knee
I'll never walk again until you come back to me
I'm down on bended knee
So many nights I dream of you
Holding my pillow tight
And I know I don't need to be alone, yeah
When I open up my eyes
To face reality
Every moment without you
It seems like eternity
I'm begging you, begging you come back to me
She could see the pain in his face and voice as he sang the song. He was leaving everything on that stage, and she couldn’t control the sobs that were leaving her as she watched the man she loved pour his heart out to her in front of hundreds of people.
Baby, I'm sorry
Please forgive me for all the wrong I've done
Please come back home, girl
I know you put all your trust in me
I'm sorry I let you down
Please forgive me
I'm Gonna swallow my pride
Say I'm sorry
Stop pointing fingers the blame is on me
I want a new life
And I want it with you
If you feel the same
Don't ever let it go
You gotta believe in the spirit of love
It'll heal all things
It won't hurt anymore
No I don't believe our love's terminal
I'm down on my knees begging you please come home
Can we go back to the days our love was strong?
Can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong?
Can somebody tell me how to get things back
The way they used to be?
Oh God give me a reason
I'm down on bended
Down on bended knee
I'll never walk again
Till you come back to me
I'm down on bended knees
As the tears streamed down her face, she watched as he ended the song. Her heart broke as she saw the tears in his eyes as he thanked the crowd and left the stage in a hurry. She knew he was a private person and didn’t like many things in his personal life to be public knowledge. So, to see him singing that song in front of the SPN family, actually dropping to his knees as he sang, had taken her breath away. He bared his heart and soul to everyone in that room, and that spoke volumes to her. She was still crying and staring at her phone when her bedroom door opened, not hearing when Jensen walked in.
“Y/N?! What’s wrong, honey? Are you okay?” he asked frantically as he rushed over to check on her, his heart in his throat worrying that something had happened.
“Jay- I- You,” she cried, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“What is it? I, you, what?”
She couldn’t speak. The emotions she was feeling overwhelmed her, so she just shoved her phone at him. He looked at her screen and froze. She was watching his performance, and by her reaction, he had messed up again. He sighed, laying her phone on the bed and standing up to leave.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wanted to try one more time to show you what you mean to me and that I’ll never hurt you again. But, all I seem to do is keep hurting you. I’m sorry I overstepped and made you cry. I won’t do it again, sweetheart. I’m going to take a shower and leave you alone now,” he sniffled, fighting hard to hold back the tears he was determined not to let loose until he was alone. She didn’t need to be bothered by his sadness.
“Jay!” she yelled, reaching for him, tears still staining her face, “Don’t go, please.”
“It’s okay, I get it. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’ll accept that we’ll only be friends and won’t bring up the issue anymore. You don’t need the aggravation,” he plastered a fake smile on his face, trying to get out of the room before he lost his resolve to not burst into tears.
“No, I don’t need the aggravation, but I do need you,” she hiccupped on a sob. She hated that he was feeling this way because she had turned him down so many times.
“What?” he was frozen at her words, a glimmer of hope bubbling up in his chest, “What are you trying to say, Y/N?”
“I’m saying that I need you, Jay. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to live in this house anymore as just your friend, but like we used to be, as your girlfriend.”
“Are you serious?” he whispered, afraid if he spoke any louder, she would disappear, and it would all be a dream.
“I am. But, Jay, I need you to promise that you won’t leave me like that again. If you’re scared, overwhelmed, whatever it may be, you will talk to me, not run away. If you can’t promise me that, let me know now because I can’t go through that again,” she whimpered, “I can’t ever feel that broken ever again.”
“Baby, I swear!” he exclaimed, sitting down and pulling her into his side, “I’ll never make you feel that way again. I’ll hate myself forever for doing it this time. I’m so fucking sorry!”
She pulled back to look into his eyes, looking for any hesitation, doubt, or uncertainty, but all she saw was pure love and adoration. She couldn’t stop the smile that slowly spread across her face. When she watched that video, she knew she had to give him another chance. She loved him, and she knew he loved her, but she didn’t know that he would bare his soul to the world to prove it, and now that she did, she wanted nothing more than to be his again. To be together and enjoy the rest of the pregnancy as a couple.
“Are you sure you’re sorry?” she asked with a small smirk.
“I’m one hundred percent positive! What do I have to do to prove it to you?”
“Well, there’s only one thing I can think of.”
“What? Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” he pleaded.
“You can kiss me,” she giggled, making him smile brighter than he had in months.
“I can absolutely do that.”
He pulled her to him, looking deep into her eyes before placing his lips on hers. He knew at that moment that he would do anything to keep her by his side. He had never missed someone as much as he missed her, and he would go to his grave showing her every day that she was his everything, his entire world. She and their baby would never go a single day without knowing just how precious they were to him.
#you'll accompany me#jensen x reader#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles x female!reader#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen ackles rpf#spnfandom
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This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.
In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.
Masterpost
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Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.
He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?
He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.
And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.
So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.
It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.
"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.
He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.
"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"
'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.
"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.
"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.
"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"
"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.
"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.
The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.
Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.
Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.
"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.
The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.
Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.
The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.
He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.
"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.
"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.
"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.
"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.
"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.
"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."
"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.
"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"
Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.
"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."
"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.
The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?
That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.
Part 2
#fanfiction#danny phantom#dc x dp#angst#misunderstanding#the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores#Vlad is a creep#stalker Vlad#vlad plasmius#dick grayson#cassandra cain#feedback and comments welcome#for some reason it won't let me add a title#I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway
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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.
"You're not going."
"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"
"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."
"Steve-"
"And if you throw up in my car-"
"Oh my God-"
"I'll kill you."
Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.
"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.
He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.
"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.
"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.
"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.
He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.
(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)
"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.
"You baited me into it."
"I did no such thing."
Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"
Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."
"Sorry dude."
"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."
Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.
"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"
"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."
"All I'm saying-"
"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."
Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.
"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.
"Five more minutes," Anna tries.
"Nope. Clean up and roll out."
"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.
"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"
Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"
"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"
Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.
"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."
Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.
Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.
But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.
Success by all metrics, really.
Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.
They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.
He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.
The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.
At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:
Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.
-Eddie
Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-
Hang on.
He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-
No way. No way in hell.
It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-
"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.
Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.
Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.
"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."
Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.
"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."
Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.
"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"
Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.
"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."
At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.
Because what the fuck is happening right now?
His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.
Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.
Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.
When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.
"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.
"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.
The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.
And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.
Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.
Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.
Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.
He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.
Sweet Jesus.
"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"
The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.
Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.
Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"
"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"
"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.
"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."
"How do you even-"
"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"
Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.
"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."
"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."
"Well, I have it now."
"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.
"He left me his number on the seat."
"Text him."
"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."
"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."
Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."
"Have you looked at him?"
"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."
"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."
"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.
"Text-"
Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"
"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.
"I bought them."
She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."
Steve stares. She stares right back.
He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.
With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:
I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.
He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.
Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?
Part 3!!
#ria writes#this au needs a tag#uhhh#d&c au#there we go#dilf & concert#this was inspired by me seeing ice nine kills open for metallica#in case you couldn't tell#as well as the really cool dad and kid i sat next to#at fall out boy#shoutout to them#they were awesome#anyway#real tags time!#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#st#st ficlet#stranger things#stranger things ficlet#corroded coffin#rockstar eddie munson#dilf steve harrington
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Zhongli wants you to wake up early. You're a late riser. Shenanigans ensue.
"Darling, wake up," murmurs Zhongli into your ear, tenderly placing a kiss on your cheek. "The sun has risen."
"Whoooo caaaaares," you drawl drowsily, rolling onto your side.
"You said you would accompany me on one of my morning strolls."
"Mm some other time..." Your husband wraps his arms around you, but that does nothing to wake you up - if anything, his embrace is so warm and perfect and safe that you'll just...zzz...
Zhongli snuggles you. "Please?" he whispers in your ear. "I shall treat you to breakfast outside as well."
You utter a noise of disapproval. "I'm only getting up if you smack me awake."
"But I would never do that," the man protests, golden eyes full of hurt at the thought of hurting you. "Why would I hurt my beloved?"
You hum, eyes still closed. "Then go awayyyy."
After a while, he sighs. "All right, dear. Suit yourself." You feel the bed shift with his weight and hear soft footsteps making their way out. A small pang of guilt twinges inside you, but you can tell him later that you'll accompany him another time. For now, finally, you drift off again into dreamland...zzz...
A fluffy weight smothering your face rudely pulls you out of it as quickly as you'd been sinking - sputtering, you wiggle helplessly under the floof that you quickly register as your husband in his tiny chonk form. "Get off!"
Chonkli ignores your protests and paws at your cheeks as incessantly as a cat, his tail gently smacking you in the chest as he does it. He nibbles on your earlobe, making you wriggle even more.
It's when he brings his tail to your nose that your eyes shoot open, prying him off before he can coax a sneeze out of you. "Alright, alright, I'm up!" you say, holding him up, scowling, as he purrs and licks your nose in triumph. "That breakfast better be worth it!"
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Cling
Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much.
Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst.
Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader
Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something.
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach.
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before.
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach. “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up.
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you.
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath.
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
______________________________________________________
Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff, @valthevalkyrie-main, @crying-caro, @inglourious-imagines
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#steve harrington fic#stranger things fic#steve harrington x you#v's fics
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CLOSER TO YOU
Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.
>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader
>>genre : angst, smut , fluff
>>trope : established relationship
>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.
>>word count : I'll add later.
[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]
[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]
(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)
It's thick
The tension between you and jungkook.
You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.
It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.
Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.
You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.
"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.
Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get home faster. There's no traffic tonight.
You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.
However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.
"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."
"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.
You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question
He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."
You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.
A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.
10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.
"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.
You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.
"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.
You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.
"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"
"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."
It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.
Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.
"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"
Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.
To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.
"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.
He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.
Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.
You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.
You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."
Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."
After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.
"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.
Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.
You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.
Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.
Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.
"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.
He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.
Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.
Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.
Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.
He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"
You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"
"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.
"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.
Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.
"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.
"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.
"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.
"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.
Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.
"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.
"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.
He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.
Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.
"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.
"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."
"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.
"Thank you, and I Love you."
"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.
There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024
#bts#jungkook x reader#jungkook#bts army#jungkook fanfic#bts smut#jeon jungkook#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#bts jungkook#bts jk#rerefundslocals
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good boy
words: 1.5k
warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy
“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.
“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.
“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.
“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.
“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.
“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.
“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.
“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”
“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.
that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.
“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”
-- two years later --
“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.
“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.
“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”
“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”
“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”
you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”
“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.
--
“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.
“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.
“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.
rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.
“oh my gosh!” you squeal.
“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.
you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.
“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.
“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.
“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage.
“what?” you whine out.
“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”
“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.
you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.
“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.
--
“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”
you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.
max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.
“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.
max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.
you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.
“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.
your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.
“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.
“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”
“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much.
“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.
“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.
“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”
you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.
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He is yours
✧ — SUMMARY; Gojo's sweet student is jealous of him and reminds him of who he belongs to
✧ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, a lot of nicknames, extremely size kink, age gap, reader's age is 18, riding, belly bulge
"Wait here, sensei. I'll go grab us some kikufuku, okay?" you said with a cute smile on your face
he nodded, returning the big smile and giving a thumb "Sounds perfect! I'll be right here~."
You went towards the food stand, your heart fluttering with excitement. You bought a small bag of kikufuku and you turned back to go to Gojo.
but as soon as you turned your back, you saw a woman. The kikufuku bag fell out of your hand as soon as you saw the woman.
she was engaging in conversation with Gojo.
a pang of jealousy pricked at your heart, who was she?
approaching cautiously, you heard snippets of the conversation. The woman seemed to be asking for directions, or else she was trying to talk to your sensei and get his number under the pretext of asking for directions.
there was a possibility that he might do that because your sensei was undeniably handsome.
you couldn't shake the feeling of unease.
without thinking, you went to them and clung to Gojo's arm, pressing your petite body against him. "Senseiii, I don't feel well" you murmured dramatically, "Please take me home." gojo turned his gaze to you, and a grin slowly appeared on his face when he saw you staring at the woman he was talking to. He wrapped his arm around her delicate waist protectively and looked at the woman again
''you heard her, ma'am, I need to be a good teacher and take my poor student home immediately~''
His grip on your waist was tightened
"Let's get you home, my cute student~''
''S-sensei-Ah~ ''
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by moans and gasps from both Gojo and you. Both of your voices blend in a chorus of pleasure and desire.
''Y-you are mine, sensei... No other woman can touch you like that.''
With your possessive words, a wry grin spread across his handsome face, he laughed under his breath
''ahah~, my lovely student is really daring today, isn't she~?''
You were so ashamed. Your cheeks were blushed. You had never ridden him before, you had never spoken to him in such a daring way before.
But you couldn't help it, you were extremely jealous. The fact that the woman he was talking to was really... beautiful.
''Tell me you'll never look at anyone else but me, sensei.''
The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure, the bed creaking under their movements.
''Fufu~, so this is what happens when my little girl gets jealous~''
Your petite body was bouncing on Gojo's massive cock, your delicate body rising and falling. Your mouth is open in a mix of pleasure and exertion. His piercing blue eyes shifted to your delicious tits jiggling with every thrust before his eyes. it was a perfect view.
''You think I'd prefer this pretty young cunny to another woman's, my little mochi~? Oh, only your sloppy cunt can make me so crazy~''
You are overjoyed. You felt touched. He was genuinely in love with you. A lovely smile appeared on your delicate face as tiny tears of delight spilled from your eyes.
''Awww~ is my pretty girl touched? Ah~ Don't cry cutie, your beloved sensei loves you more than you can imagine. So the only time you can cry is when I put this cock in your pussy.''
He slowly brought his hand to your delicate face and wiped away the small tears with his thumb. You leaned in his touch as you kept bouncing on his cock. your slender arms gripping onto his broad shoulders as you ride him. Your body moves in a slow rhythm, your hips bouncing on his large member. Moans and gasps echo through the room.
*clap*
*clap*
His large hands slowly slid from your cheek to your plump ass and spanked your soft ass. It causes your ass to ripple and slightly flush. You squealed sweetly and your body leaped in sweet shock and stopped for a moment.
''kya~!''
''Fufu~ go on, little girl~. Keep riding your sensei's cock like a slut~.'' Gojo's deep voice rumbled with satisfaction.
With that, you started to bounce on his cock again, your cute moans growing louder with each movement on his big cock.
Your small hand's grip on Gojo's shoulders tightened, nails digging into his skin. Gojo's large hands grip your soft hips as you rock back and forth on his big cock, his large hands enveloping your soft ass cheeks. He was guiding your movements as he revels in the feel of your soft skin against his hard body.
His eyes were a shade of blue so intense they seemed to pierce through the shadows, watching your every move with predatory interest. He could sense your approaching edge, so he slowed your pace with a firm grip, drawing out the pleasure and tormenting you with the promise of release.
He wanted you to beg for your release.
''S-Sensei~, ah~ahah~!''
He lifted you with ease to meet his powerful thrusts. The change in angle had you seeing stars, the pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. Your breath hitched as little spots of white danced before your watery eyes. your breath hitched in your throat, and your rhythm became more erratic as you chased your climax relentlessly.
*clap clap clap*
you whined above him, a high-pitched sound of frustration and need that was music to his ears. He smirked, white hair falling into his eyes as he decided whether to let you find sweet release or keep you teetering on the brink a bit longer.
"Please, sensei~" you gasped out, your trembling voice barely more than a series of panting breaths. "I need—"
"What do you need, my little one?" Gojo teased, his voice low and husky
you could barely form words, but your delicate, trembling body spoke volumes; it arched towards him, seeking completion.
"Y-you. I-I need you. P-please, sensei"
Tears streaming down your soft, blushed cheeks from overstimulation, sobs escaping your throat... God, you were gonna be the death of him.
His grip on your ass tightened, and his movements became more forceful, lifting you slightly and then pulling you down onto his cock with a vigor that left no room for thought—only feeling.
''I-I'm close~kyaah~''
*clap clap clap clap clap*
“Gojo... Sensei~” she gasped out between pants, her voice shaky with need. Your use of his title in such an intimate moment only made him crazy
“Let go for me, y/n”
He commanded in a low growl, contrasted with his earlier sarcastic and unserious tone. His voice was now rough with lust and edged with a raw desire that sent another wave of arousal coursing through you.
With one final thrust that reached deep within you, Gojo sent you spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. Your body shook as waves of pleasure crashed over you; you cried out his name like a sacred incantation as you clung to him.
Gojo followed soon after; his semen filled your fertile womb. There was a slight swelling in your tummy. He fell on his back on the bed and pulled you with him, wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you tightly to him. His cock was still inside you.
You put your cheek against his chest and whispered tiredly to him as you caressed his muscular chest as you lied on his body
''I love you so much, sensei...''
his gaze softened and smiled softly. What a cute little girl, he thought.
He inhaled your scent as he placed a long, passionate kiss on the crown of your head, his arms still wrapped tightly around you
''I love you too, y/n-chan''
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