#but still it seems like so much of a bother

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 1] Offerings

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*Just want to preface that this is a historical AU but there will be some historical inaccuracies so if you see something odd, don't point it out. Also this is still a curse AU! if that isn't clear with four-armed Sukuna. Anyway I hope you enjoy!! Any general story warnings can be found in the masterlist!

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna is missing something, he’s not sure what it is but he knows that he’s bored. He’s bored of everything that once thrilled him, tired of the same routine. But no matter what he does, he feels empty. 

He’s done everything possible to soothe that boredom, which has come to the expense of many lives. It entertained him until it didn’t. Occasionally he does find joy in the horrors that he causes but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore. There’s something that he’s missing, but he’s not quite sure what it is. 

He has everything a man could possibly want– Although he isn’t exactly a man so his wants and needs are obviously different. He isn’t going to be fulfilled by the foolish ideals of happiness that men have. He doesn’t have much of a guide though, therefore he’s lost in how to fix his problem. 

“Uraume.” Sukuna’s voice isn’t all that loud, yet Uraume nearly comes running to fulfill his request. The temple is uncomfortably quiet; everyone is ready to fulfill Sukuna’s every request, and their king does not raise his voice unless adrenaline rushes through him, or he’s upset. No one knows which is the worst of the two. 

“My king.” Uraume kneels down before him. He’s quiet, too embarrassed to even bring up this question. It’s unlike him. Uraume is truly the only person that he respects which is why asking the question is hard for him to actually say. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with it though.

“What do men usually do?” He asks, which is odd for Uraume to hear. Sukuna was a man too, once upon a time. But he doesn’t remember that stage of his life, and he’s sure he wasn’t happy either which is the reason why he’s the monster he is now.

“I’m not sure.” They sound reluctant. “If you could be more clear, I can search for an answer.”

“Get out.” He orders, and they bow again before exiting the room. He wants to be left alone to gather his thoughts. He has all the time in the world to figure himself out, but he wants even more time. He doesn’t want to be bothered now of all times at the very least.

“There’s a woman with an offering.” A servant tells him from the other side of the tatami doors, followed by a shrill cry that makes a smirk come to his lips. That’s his answer.

Sukuna wants a successor. 

“Take it to the servants, answer to her needs.” Sukuna answers, not really caring to listen to any requests. His mind is now preoccupied, detailing his next course of action. He needs to find the perfect woman to carry his heir, which he knows will be a hard task– Perhaps the hardest challenge that Sukuna has come by in all of his years of living.

“Please eat, Haru.” You put the bowl beside the young boy’s mat. You’ve been slowly watching your brother’s health deteriorate, slowly watching his death near. Worst of all, you have been looking for a cure that seems impossible to find because it’s not something that’s affecting anyone important. 

It’s not a disease that’s affecting anybody else, really. It’s not infectious, you quickly found that out. You were glad about it at first, but then you realized that there’s no cure yet. Days pass by, and he gets worse. He refuses to eat anything, and when he does, he can’t keep it down for more than a few hours. His death is imminent.

“I did everything I could to get the right ingredients for your favorite food. Auntie made it extra special for you.” You make sure to tell him, but he can barely move. You kneel down beside him, grabbing his utensils and preparing a bite. “Just one bite, Haru.”

“I’m sleepy.” Is all he manages to mutter, and you feel a pull on your heartstrings. Your hand caresses his arm.

“Just one bite, okay? Then you can sleep all day.” You try your best to convince him. All he does is sleep, and no matter how many hours he sleeps, he wakes up tired. He prompts himself up, and you’re fighting back a smile– It’s barely any progress, if you can even call it that. “Open up.”

There’s a smile on your lips as you bring the food to his mouth, and he begins to chew. He takes the utensils from your hand, grabbing the bowl of food and putting it on his lap. You stand up and tell him, “I’ll get you some water.”

“He’s finally eating something.” You share with your aunt, making sure your voice is low since there isn’t all that much space. Her eyes go to him, and she really wants to say that it’s a sign of him getting better but it really doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes he eats everything that’s made for him, but he throws it back up. 

“I really wish this meant he was getting better… But we both know that he’ll get worse tomorrow.” She responds, and you want to curse her for even mentioning it but you know she’s right. You don’t like hearing it though, you’re helpless. There’s nothing more you can do for Haru, you’re just waiting for the day to come. 

“I really think he can get better.” Your eyes begin to feel with tears, knowing that you don’t even believe yourself. You’ve tried everything you possibly can, but you know that his time nears. You can’t just accept that fact though, he’s your baby brother, you can’t let him go. “Let me get his water.”

“I’ll get it… Think about what the medic said.” Your aunt reminds you of the visit from the physician. One that you’ve forgotten because you refuse to consider his one and only suggestion a possibility. The words flow back to your head,

“Your best bet is the deity up north. You have to bring him an offering, and if he deems it worthy enough, he will cure him.” “But if he thinks it’s beneath him, he’ll kill you.”

You don’t want to risk anything, but lately that seems like your only option. He’s not getting any better, even though you so badly want to say that he is. Throwing up everything he eats is not much improvement than not eating at all. You just have to figure out what is considered an offering worthy for the deity to save him, and to save yourself. 

“I’ll be back, I have to figure something out.” You say, smiling back at your aunt and your little brother. They barely acknowledge you before you leave the house, which you’re thankful for. You just need a moment to gather your thoughts, decide what you’ll do next. 

You need to sort out your offering for the deity, an offering that will hopefully sort out all of your problems.

“My king, there’s a woman with an offering.” It feels like the hundredth time that week in which Sukuna hears that sentence. Humans are greedy beings, and they all fucking need something. It’s unnecessary, purely materialistic– It’s a side of humanity that he appreciates though. How much a human is willing to sacrifice for wealth or the promise of good fortune. Sukuna can’t judge, he's the sole winner in the end.

“Let her in.” He says, and the tatami door slides open. A poor maiden with a pale yellow kimono, and a woven basket in hand. You walk in with your head down, following the strict instructions that were given to you. 

You’re trembling as you kneel down in front of the deity, bowing down to him. You remain bowing for however long he pleases, keeping your eyes shut because there’s tears building up. You have never been this terrified. Willingly putting yourself at death’s door is no easy feat.

“Rise.” He orders, and you straighten your upper body, remaining on your knees. You don’t dare look anywhere past his feet, keeping your eyes low and steady. You know that he’s staring you down, studying you. A smirk on his lips, thinking about how he’s found her. “What do you want?”

“My brother…” Your voice is shaky, and you try your best to compose yourself. You can’t start crying in the middle of it, you’ve gotten this far, he’ll surely kill you if you begin to sob at his feet. “He’s sick. The medic can’t cure him, and he told us you were our only choice.”

He’s not really listening. Something about a brother is all he grasped. He’s more into the way your lips move, and the tears of pure fear that well up in your eyes. He can tell that you really made an effort into your look today, even though you don’t look extravagant. Which for some reason he likes, he doesn’t want an arrogant woman in his chambers, he already has enough of them. He especially doesn’t want one of them carrying his heir.

What really draws him in is that certain look in your eyes. The clear innocence that’s written all over your face. You’re the perfect lily that he can’t wait to tear apart, petal by petal. That finalizes his decision.

“What do you have for me? Open the basket.” He orders, and you do as he says. Regret washes over you as you open it, immediately knowing that it’s not enough. You don’t know what came over you when you had the bright idea of picking it. You unfold the cloth with shaky hands, revealing the gift for him. He’s usually furious with these types of gifts, since they hold no value to him but he wants to hear your reasoning since he has other plans with you, “Why do you come to me with this?”

“Pomegranates aren’t native to the land, and they’re scarce this time of season. I found some while searching for an offering and thought it was a sign.” You explain, and he scoffs. A stupid reason, one that should get you killed. If he wanted fruit, he would send Uraume to get it for him. He guesses it’s creative though, especially when almost every person that walks through the temple is willing to sacrifice a life. But you don’t gain points for creativity, no one ever has.

“Pomegranates? What am I supposed to do with that?” He’s mocking you, and you swallow the lump in your throat. He’s right, what is he supposed to do with a pomegranate? He’s not like you, he’s not just going to eat it. You’re usually smart about this type of thing, but you guess desperation got the best of you this time around, and now you have to pay for the consequences. As to be expected, there’s no answer from you, and he orders, “Look up at me.”

Your eyes slowly move up his body to his face, and you’re in awe at the sight. A mix of emotions flow through your body. He really isn’t a human. You were terrified earlier, but now you’re simply astonished. You never really believed the tales that were told about him since you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that a being like him could exist. But now he stands before you.

“Do you really think I’ll do anything with the fruit?” His voice sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. You shake your head which irks him. “You have a voice don’t you? Use it.”

“No, my king. My apologies.” It’s strange, but you sound more confident as you look at him compared to before. It brings some sort of satisfaction to Sukuna since usually people that are allowed to look directly at him can barely communicate.  

“I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” He’s thinking about how merciful he is– Which isn’t entirely a lie since Sukuna never gives a second chance. Except you have no idea how you can redeem yourself unless he dismisses you. Little do you know what he’s thinking for you. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A what…?” Your eyebrows perk up as curiosity takes over you. A proposal from a deity, it’ll surely be something that you have yet to hear. 

“Bear my child, and I’ll forgive you.” He says, and you almost fall back. Your ears must be deceiving you, there’s no way that the proposal that you just heard is real. Your eyes are wide open, and you hear him laugh. It must be a joke then. 

“Uraume!” Sukuna yells, wanting it to be clear that he doesn’t want to waste a single second. Not even a second later, and they’re in the room, waiting for their king’s command. “Take the maiden and prepare her for me tonight.”

“Wait– You’re serious?” You dare to ask. You haven’t even agreed, yet he’s getting you ready for tonight, to have a baby with him of all things. “You don’t even know my name, why would you want me to carry your baby?”

“What’s your name then?” He asks, clearly irritated by the question, and you have no choice but to answer. If you don’t, you’re screwed. “There we have it. Take her, Uraume.”

“Wait!” You shout, but Sukuna isn’t going to listen to more of it. Uraume guides you outside, a task that they usually do harsher. At any other time, they’d be dragging you outside but you’re not just anybody. 

You’re the woman that will carry King Sukuna’s heir.

#jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna x you #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

[freyadragonlord]

Stolas and Blitz’s relationship is a really well written misunderstanding plot, and here’s why 

I didn’t exactly have bad expectations about the Full Moon episode, yet I find myself pleasantly surprised by just how well the show handled the final confrontation between Stolas and Blitz. It was perfectly tragic and, most importantly, it perfectly fits how their relationship was built up to this point.

But how did Stolas get to this point?

Stolas has been starved for love since he was a child. His father only knew how to buy Stolas’ stuff to distract him from his distress (whenever Paimon bothered to even be around). Stolas’ wife – whom he did not choose – disdained him and did not miss a chance to humiliate him. He used to have a good relationship with his daughter, even though things got more complicated as she grew up and started to realize that her parents hate each other; but having your own child love you isn’t the same as having someone love you because you are you.

And then, out of nowhere, This Guy whom he considers his first friend - someone who was at the center of one of the best memories from his childhood - sneaks into his house and tries to seduce him!! Needless to say, Stolas is taken by surprise!

He even tries to talk to Blitz at first, and asks him about his life. He wants a connection, but Blitz just kinda pushes Stolas on his bed and starts doing sexy things to him, while dodging his questions. And, well, Stolas has never had good sex before that moment! His only experience is with a woman who does not like him and whom he doesn’t like. He gets swept away! Turns out, kinky sex really does it for him, and Blitz just Keeps Going all night!

Now, we don’t get to see how Stolas reacted when he figured out that Blitz was there to steal his book. The next thing we know (which is actually the first time the audience is introduced to Stolas) is that he is determined not to let that night with Blitz be the last. And who knows, even if Blitz had an ulterior motive for that first night, Stolas could still have a chance to seduce him! But how to do that? Well, the only thing Stolas knows about Blitz is that he really seemed to be into kinky sex and dirty talk…. So, Stolas goes for that!

After a while, though, he realizes it isn’t working. Plus, as much as the sex is good, what he really wants from Blitz is romance! So, he tries changing his approach, he introduces the idea of dates, of staying at home without fucking… But every time Stolas tries to change things, Blitz is resistant.

Stolas has many flaws. He is unaware of his privilege, he can be entitled, too self-centered… but one thing he is not, at least, is clueless about his own feelings. Stolas knows he loves Blitz, he knows he wants them to be together, and so he spends a long time trying to figure out how to confess, how to convince Blitz that his feelings are sincere…

In a way, it’s all that planning that dooms him. He spends so much time thinking things over, finding the perfect words, the perfect selfless act to confess to Blitz and set him free, that he does not realize that his confession will come out of nowhere for Blitz. And that Blitz will not have had hours and hours to rehearse his own reaction!

To be fair to him, Blitz truly is spectacularly clueless – to the level that it’s difficult to understand, without knowing his history - when it comes to his own feelings…

Right, how did Blitz get to this point?

The first time Blitz met Stolas, as a child, Blitz’s father had literally sold him as entertainment, and then ordered Blitz to steal from Stolas' house. “Go make yourself useful for once.” “It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve.”

Blitz grows up in an environment where his own father prefers another child to him. His only worth to his dad is to be a trading card, and to be an instrument to get rich.

Blitz doesn’t grow completely without love, tho! He knows what it is like to be loved. He has a best friend, his twin sister, his mother… And then he manages to lose all three of them in one single, spectacular accident. And it was an accident! But it was also his fault. And that’s the night Blitz learns that nobody can love him for long, because he does not deserve it. Even if someone did care for him, eventually they will realize he is worthless and dangerous.

Blitz hates himself.

Still, he does what he has to do to survive, and he goes on.

Years pass, and Blitz is trying to achieve his oldest dream, the dream to be his own boss, to lead a successful business, to prove that he can do something right. He needs Stolas’ book to achieve his dream, so what? It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve. He can make himself useful for once.

Does Blitz understand that it’s not Stolas himself who bought him all those years ago, but rather his father? It doesn’t really matter in the end, the only thing that’s important is that he knows that if he distracts Stolas enough, it’s not that hard to steal from him. If he sells himself, he can get anything out of Stolas.

The sex an accident, in the end. Stolas suggests Blitz is there to seduce him (Stolas is joking, but Blitz doesn't realize that), so Blitz goes for that. He bites Stolas’ neck to distract him from the theft, and Stolas reacts to that! Blitz can use this! He just happens to encourage Stolas when Stolas talks dirty to him, he doesn’t know he’s the one planting the idea in Stolas’ brain.

And Blitz could leave Stolas tied up and flee with the book, but at the end he feels bad. He decides to fuck Stolas after all, and well… That wasn’t so bad. He was supposed to do it “real fast”, but ends up spending the whole night!

Still, what if the sex was good? Stolas is still an entitled and powerful prince. And Stolas’ behavior in the following months only confirms that the other demon is just using him! And when Stolas’ actions start to change, well, surely that’s just some new kink, some new game…

Blitz constantly confirms his own biases, and he is incapable of seeing beyond them. He expects to be used because he has been used so many times, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t expect to be loved, because he doesn’t believe anyone can love him.

And if he starts to enjoy the time he spends with Stolas, at least sometimes, well….. That’s just the good sex. Plus, he feels powerful, when he’s fucking Stolas. Not only because Blitz dominates him in bed, but also because this is an arrangement he entered of his own free will, and he’s the one directly benefiting from it.

And! Isn’t it easier this way??? Relationships are messy! This arrangement, tho, no feelings involved, at all! He can push Stolas around as much as he wants, and Stolas will let him.

(Stolas cannot get hurt, after all.)

(He can get hurt??)

Blitz has many flaws. Being clueless about his feelings, and other people’s feelings, is maybe his biggest flaw. Stolas’ confession comes out of nowhere from him. He is confused. Nobody can love him, so it is a game, right?

It’s not a game. Where did this “confession” come from? He’s mad now. Stolas broke the rules, Stolas is using him again, somehow, Stolas… Stolas is crying.

It’s not a trick.

Their whole relationship has been a huge misunderstanding since day 1, and Blitz only just realized.

And Stolas sent Blitz away before he had time to realize, as well.

#a lot of feelings and thoughs about Them #helluva boss #helluva boss spoilers #blitzø #helluva blitz #stolas #helluva stolas #stolitz #full moon #stolas x blitz #full moon spoilers

[sunkissed-zegras]

★ ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD ─── CC²² (part 1/2)

❪ requested -> "Can you write something about cc and reader being enemies and hating eachother. but they are on two different teams so they play against eachother and something happens during one of their games and they take their hate out on eachother with smut?" ❫

─ warnings | lots of sexual tension (no smut, yet) slightly angst, reader is on LSU, singular kiss, trash talking, drinking, nothing else

─ ev's notes | okay so i'm not a super LSU fan, i just rly love hailey and angel so those are the only girls included in the fic LMAOOO, anyway. enjoy this heavy ass fic!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

You couldn't stand Caitlin Clark.

Now, you couldn't really remember when this dislike had began. Ever since you laid on eyes on taller brunette, you hated how cocky she was. It wasn't just her cockiness that rubbed you the wrong way; it was the way she seemed to effortlessly outshine everyone around her, both on and off the court.

You watched as she dominated every game, her skills unparalleled, her talent undeniable. It felt like she was born to be a star, while you struggled to keep up. And while her talent was undeniable, it was her attitude that really got under your skin. She seemed to revel in her superiority, never missing an opportunity to remind everyone just how good she was.

But perhaps what bothered you most was the fact that despite your best efforts, you couldn't seem to escape her shadow. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you improved, you were always just one step behind her. It was frustrating, infuriating even, to constantly be compared to someone who seemed so effortlessly perfect.

Well ─ at least, in your eyes. You were still one of the best players in the entire nation, however you were always second best to Princess Caitlin Clark. You'd been the second best prospect in your year, trailing behind her like a persistent shadow. And it wasn't just the comparisons that irked you; it was the constant reminder of your perceived inadequacy, the feeling of always being in her shadow.

You couldn't shake the resentment that bubbled within you every time Caitlin strutted onto the court, her aura of invincibility following her like a shadow. She thrived on the attention, basking in the adoration of fans and teammates alike. Meanwhile, you fought tooth and nail for every scrap of recognition, every ounce of respect that always seemed just out of reach.

That was, until the 2023 NCAA championship.

LSU versus Iowa ─ the most anticipated game of the season, who will take the W? It was the showdown everyone had been waiting for, the clash of titans to determine who would claim the coveted crown of college basketball supremacy.

And at the center of it all were you and Caitlin, two fierce competitors locked in a battle for glory.

You had chugged your redbull and strutted out on the court like you owned it, your eyes landing on the taller brunette who's eyes were already on you. In that moment, you knew that this game would be about more than just basketball; it would be a battle of wills, a clash of titans vying for supremacy. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it.

The media frenzy surrounding the game only added to the pressure, with reporters clamoring for every tidbit of insight from both you and Caitlin. It was the clash of the season, the matchup everyone had been waiting for, and neither of you were about to disappoint.

Everyone felt the tension, the energy crackling in the air like electricity. The media never missed a chance to ask you or Caitlin about it, hyping up the matchup as the game. And as you stood there, facing off against Caitlin across the court, you knew that this was your chance to finally prove yourself, to silence the doubters and cement your legacy once and for all.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Hailey's voice echoed from behind you, you felt her hand your shoulder. "You'll end up winning this. You've trained too hard for anything else."

You nodded, taking in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Even your teammates knew the deep-rooted history with the brunette. It wasn't just about LSU versus Iowa; it was about L/N versus Clark, a battle for supremacy that had captured the attention of fans and media alike.

As the referee signaled the start of the game, you focused all your attention on the task at hand. Caitlin stood across from you, a worthy adversary with a reputation to match. But you were ready, mentally and physically prepared to give it everything you had.

You were tasked to guard her and you weren't planning on letting her get an inch of space. Every move she made, every dribble, every feint, you were right there, anticipating her next move with razor-sharp focus. You could feel the intensity of her gaze, the determination in her eyes as she tried to outmaneuver you.

With each passing minute, you could see the frustration building in Caitlin's dark eyes, the realization dawning that you had expanded your skill set since the last time you'd met. And as the game wore on, you refused to let up, hounding her relentlessly from one end of the court to the other.

Then suddenly with 4 seconds on the clock before halftime, you saw your chance to prove your superiority. With speed, you intercepted one of Caitlin's passes, turning defense into offense in the blink of an eye. With a burst of speed, you drove towards the basket, leaving Caitlin in your wake as you soared through the air for an emphatic dunk.

In that moment, you knew that you had won more than just a single play ─ you had won a psychological battle, proving to Caitlin and everyone watching that you were more than just her equal.

Your teammates surrounded you but the cheers into background as Caitlin gazed at you, her usual determination into pure rage. But instead of feeling intimidated, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, a knowing smile playing at your lips.

You had waited for this moment, trained for it, dreamed about it. And now, as you looked into Caitlin's eyes, you could see the realization dawning on her ─ that you were not just her rival, but her equal, maybe even her superior. She wasn't unguardable, you'd just proven everyone wrong and Caitlin herself was forced to acknowledge it.

"The fuck are you smiling for?" Her words came out harsh as she walked toward you, letting her frustration get the best of her. You met her gaze head-on, unflinching despite the intensity of her glare ─ you felt your smile grow as laughter built up in your stomach, looking up at the brunette.

You couldn't resist a smirk at Caitlin's question, relishing the opportunity to get under her skin just a little more. "Because I just showed the world what real talent looks like," you shot back, your tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like being second best suits you, Caitlin."

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might lash out until her teammate put her hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't get too cocky," she muttered, her voice tinged with anger. "This isn't over, Y/N. I'll be back, and next time, I won't go easy on you."

You shrugged, undeterred by her threat. "Bring it on, Princess," you challenged, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "I'll be waiting ─ and smiling ─ for round two."

"Princess? You've gotta be kidding, who do the fuck do you think─" Caitlin cut herself off with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. She ignored your quip as she walked away, making sure to hit your shoulder as she walked away.

Before you could relish in the moment any longer, you felt Angel's hands on your shoulders as you met her gaze. You squealed in excitement as you both walked off the court toward your team.

The game continued after halftime, each possession a testament to your skill and determination. But no matter how hard Caitlin fought, she couldn't shake the knowledge that you had bested her, not just physically, but mentally as well.

And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling your LSU's victory, you knew that you had achieved more than just a win. You had proven yourself on the biggest stage, against the toughest competition, and emerged victorious.

As you celebrated with your teammates, the realization sunk in that this victory wasn't just about winning a game; it was about overcoming years of doubt and frustration, about proving to yourself and the world that you were capable of achieving greatness.

──

"Caitlin, tough loss out there tonight. How are you feeling after such a close game?" A reporter asked, their voice sympathetic.

Caitlin took a moment to collect her thoughts, her mind still buzzing with the intensity of the game. "Yeah, it's definitely disappointing to come up short like that," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "We gave it our all out there, but sometimes things just don't go your way."

But it was the next question that made Caitlin's stomach twist with unease. "Your matchup with Y/N was one of the most anticipated of the season. What was it like going head-to-head with her?"

She hesitated, knowing that whatever she said next would be scrutinized. "Y/N is a talented player, no doubt about it. I've known her for a while, we've played on the same team at some point," Caitlin answered carefully, her words measured. "She brought her A-game tonight, and it made for a tough battle on the court."

The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up a notch as another reporter pressed on. "There seemed to be some tension between you two out there. Can you speak to that?"

Caitlin's jaw tensed momentarily before she forced herself to relax. "Y/N and I have a history, for sure," she replied, her tone diplomatic. "But at the end of the day, it's just competition. We both want to win, and sometimes that can lead to some heated moments on the court. I don't hate her," she paused as she sighed. "She's a good player, props to her. She proved I'm not unguardable,"

Caitlin forced a smile as the reporters laughed, nodding. But it was the final question that caught Caitlin off guard, prompting a genuine, knowing smile to tug at the corners of her lips. "Do you think this game marks the end of your rivalry with Y/N?"

She paused, considering her response carefully. "No, ma'am. It's far from over, I haven't been beat yet,"

The reporters laughed again but she was dead serious. She couldn't wait until next year, she knew LSU would make it to the finals ─ and she'd finally prove to you once and for all, she is number one.

──

"It felt more like sexual tension to me, that's just me though," Hailey spoke up as she swirled her straw in her drink.

Hailey's remark caught you off guard, and you shot her a sharp glare, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flickering in your eyes. But before you could respond, she quickly held her hands up in defense, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped, her tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. You should look at twitter. Actually, not right now ─ you're not gonna like it,"

"What do you mean?" You sent the blonde another look as she gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging.

Hailey gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just saying, you might want to avoid social media for a little while,"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? What's going on?" you pressed, your patience wearing thin.

But before Hailey could respond, Angel interrupted, clapping you on the back and dragging you into a group huddle to celebrate the victory. As the cheers and laughter filled the air, you couldn't shake the feeling of annoyance that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, wait, I have my film camera upstairs!" You shouted as the team let out a chorus of groans.

"Go get it!"

You grabbed your purse and ran up to the elevator. As you rode the elevator up to your room, your mind raced with thoughts of the game, the victory, and the impending celebration. You were texting your parents, not looking where you were going until you someone stopped you in your tracks, putting their hands on your shoulders.

You looked up to meet Caitlin's dark eyes, your excitement turning into annoyance. Her gaze was intense, and you could feel the weight of her stare boring into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension thick between you like a tangible force.

"Watch where you're going, you almost bumped into me," her voice was hoarse as your lips turned to a frown.

"Well I didn't," your eyes flickered to her hands, who were still lingering on your shoulders. You caught her gaze as she cleared her throat before slowly withdrawing them.

Neither of you moved, daring the other to break the tense silence that hung heavy in the air. The weight of Caitlin's stare bore into you, her dark eyes searching for something you couldn't quite name. Your own gaze remained locked with hers, a silent challenge passing between you.

"I don't get why you're being a bitch," her words came out soft but there was an edge to them. She didn't look like her usual self, she didn't give off the same energy she did on the court.

"What do you mean?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "It isn't about you, Caitlin. It's about winning and being a bitch is kinda part of the package,"

"No, I don't mean tonight. You always act like I'm the worst person alive, even when we played together. On the court, we were fine and then you didn't wanna talk to me after," Caitlin said, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Yeah, cause not everyone wants to be friends with you, Caitlin," you shot back as her hurt turned into annoyance.

"Yeah but we played well together, and if you'd committed to Iowa, like you said you would we would have been unstoppable," Caitlin's voice grew louder as she furrowed her eyebrows.

You scoffed. "Then I would've committed to a four years of being second to you, like I did All Iowa Attack. Plus I would have if you'd gone to UConn, like you said you would,"

"God, what is your obsession and being second to me!" Her frustration finally boiled over, her voice rising in anger as she locked eyes with you. "You're not even second to me. We're just good at different things and I get a little more recognition than you. Jesus Christ, you're so self-obsessed, not everything is about you."

"No, Caitlin, it's not about being self-obsessed," you shot back, your voice rising to match her intensity. "It's about feeling like I'm always playing second to you, no matter how hard I try."

Caitlin's eyes flashed with frustration, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "And what, you think I enjoy always being the one in the spotlight?" she retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's not as fun as you think, Y/N. All that recognition comes with its own set of pressures and expectations."

You scoffed, the anger bubbling up inside you. "Oh, cry me a river, Caitlin," you spat, the resentment clear in your tone. "At least you get the recognition. At least people know who you are."

"People know who you are too!" Caitlin's nostrils flared as she took a step closer, her gaze piercing into yours. You didn't even know how close she was until you could feel her body warmth radiating off of her as she looked down at you.

"Yeah, as the sidekick," you shot back, refusing to back down despite the proximity. "Always in your shadow, always second best."

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her frustration palpable as she fought to maintain her composure. "You think I don't know what it's like to feel overshadowed?" she snapped, her voice strained with emotion. "You think I don't feel the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations?"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Please, Caitlin," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You love the attention. You thrive on it."

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, her eyes dark with intensity as she took a step closer, the space between you narrowing until there was barely a breath of air separating you. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

"Is that what you think?" she murmured, her voice low and husky, a hint of something unfamiliar dancing in her eyes. "That I love the attention?"

You swallowed hard, the heat of her gaze searing into your skin, igniting something unfamiliar within you. "Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't like this new attitude, Y/N. I liked it better when used to you shut up and and take the heat," Caitlin interjected, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of Caitlin's words sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. There was something different about her now, something raw that left you both exhilarated and irritated.

"I'm not the one who can't handle a little competition," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you met Caitlin's gaze head-on.

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger as she took another step closer, the heat of her body enveloping you in a cloud of desire. "And I'm not the one who needs to prove myself at every turn," she shot back, her voice low and dangerous.

"You're a bitch," you felt breathless as her gaze bore into yours.

"Yeah? Am I?" Her lips quirked into a smirk as she took in your appearance. You were always pretty, everyone knew it ─ people underestimated you, she sure had until tonight.

She wasn't dumb ─ she saw the way you looked at her and underneath all that hatred, she knew that you just wanted a little attention from her. Even after she'd committed to Iowa and you'd committed to LSU, Caitlin could see the way your gaze lingered on her more than it should have.

You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks at the intensity of her gaze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Despite the anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the way Caitlin looked at you, as if she could see right through to your soul.

"Damn right you are," you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance as you met her gaze head-on.

Caitlin's smirk widened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in her eyes as she closed the distance between you, her body inches away from yours.

"And you love it," she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, Caitlin's lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless, the heat of her touch igniting a fire deep within you.

She pressed her lips against yours harshly and the two of you momentarily decided to forget how you two were in the hotel hallway, where anyone could step out and see this scene unfolding.

"Oh fuck," you moaned into the kiss as she pressed closer, your words muffled against her lips.

But Caitlin didn't seem to care about the risk of being caught, her hands roaming freely over your body as she deepened the kiss, her touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.

You melted into her embrace, your mind clouded with desire as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered ─ not the rivalry, not the consequences, nothing but the intoxicating passion that pulsed between you and Caitlin.

Caitlin pulled away harshly, a desperate whimper coming out of your lips as she glared down at you. She licked her lips as she let go of you, your face contorting into annoyance. Was she teasing you?

"What the hell, Cait?" you demanded, your voice laced with a mixture of irritation and longing. "Why'd you stop?"

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, intense and unreadable, as she licked her lips with a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a hunger in her eyes, a primal desire that mirrored your own, yet something held her back, a barrier between you that neither of you seemed willing to breach.

"I'm not fucking you until we win," she replied, her voice low and husky, the words a mere whisper against the charged silence that enveloped you both. "Until I get the trophy, until your team loses."

"So you're gonna wait a whole year?" You scoffed, incredulity lacing your tone as you struggled to comprehend Caitlin's reasoning. The idea of waiting seemed absurd, especially in the midst of the intense desire that pulsed between you. "Well good luck, cause we're not going to."

"Yeah, and until you cut the fucking attitude. It doesn't suit you, Y/N." Caitlin's words were sharp, a harsh reminder of the tension that simmered beneath the surface of your interactions.

"Fuck you," you scoffed as she smirked. She just shook her head as she walked away, leaving you alone and so desperately needy.

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[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Yandere!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; basically a forced pregnancy ; late term pregnancy complications ; Minho is like, the worlds worst narcissist in this ; let me know if there's more ; Word Count : 6.9k A/N : The amount of research that I did for this one is crazy, but I also learned a lot so... building knowledge while writing fanfic is a plus! This request has been in my ask box for probably over a year and a half now, so... I hope that whoever requested it... I hope you enjoy! (Also, this was supposed to end WAY worse... But you all weren't ready to be sucker punched with sadness, so...) Request : Anonny : Pregnant with yandere leeknow/ yandere leeknow as dad Aaaangst

In The Beginning…

“Minho…” You called timidly from the bedroom, the way you called for him was about the same volume as when someone would talk regularly to a friend. When you spoke it was nothing more than a mouse-like whisper, always scared of what would happen if you raised your voice a little too much. Your doting boyfriend came into the bedroom, his hair tousled and wet from his shower, his eyes always seeming to carry a seductive look, dark and hungry for you at all times. “M-Minho…” You spoke his name again, this time more nervous now that he was standing in front of you. 

A chuckle built in his chest as he sauntered over to you, water wrinkled fingers that were warmer from the hot water he had been standing under, trailed across your cheek, one finger slipping under your chin to tilt your head up as he towered over you. “Mm? What do you need, darling? Are you hungry? Thirsty? I know that last night was quite… exerting for you…” He teased, and you felt your body heat up at the mention of the sinful activities you had taken part in the night before. 

“Uhm… n-no…” You stammered, blinking a few times as you seemed to lose your train of thought constantly when he was standing so close to you, looking at you as if you were a delicious meal that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. “We… We didn’t use protection and… Usually you’d get me a… a plan B pill and… I just was wondering if you had gone and… and gotten it by now?” You were always so nervous around him, still not quite sure what made him tick. One second he was happy, or at least he seemed happy, and then the next he was going through an outburst that had you locking yourself in the bathroom until he came to the door apologizing and giving you the same spiel that he would never do it again. You hated when things got like that, you tried to avoid getting him to that point at all costs. 

“I decided you don’t need it anymore.” Minho spoke nonchalantly, as if he was the one who could make that decision for you. Your mouth opened to protest, and he stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would give him a reason to lash out. It’s like he wanted a reason, he wanted to go off on you, like he enjoyed seeing you scared, enjoyed being the hypocritical hero when he comforted you after making you cry. “Think about how wonderful it would be, to have a part of me growing inside of you… you’d be mine, all mine. You’ll never leave me…” His hands moved down to your stomach, as if there was already something in there. “I’ll pick up tests in about 2 weeks, I want to be right here when you take them and read the results.”

The First Signs…

Sitting at the dining room table, the chicken still in your mouth after you had taken a bite, an awful sensation washed over you. A sort of sickness that you couldn’t fight back, and an urge to throw up that you couldn’t breathe your way through as you usually would. “Mm’scuse me…” You mumbled through the palm of your hand that was clasped over your mouth as you ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind you, not even bothering to lock it as your body practically folded over the toilet. 

“Darling…” Minhos soft cooing from the other side of the door had goosebumps forming on your skin. When he cracked the door open, you could see a rather excited smile beginning to spread across his face. “Are you alright?” The juxtaposition of his expression and his words made your head reel. He looked too happy for someone who had just watched their girlfriend throw up all of their dinner. You nodded your head in response, making sure the contents of your stomach were cleared out before taking a few steps to the sink and washing your face and then rinsing your mouth out with water. “I thought you loved that chicken… Hmm, I wonder why it would make you sick all of a sudden…” 

He stepped into the bathroom fully now that you were done being ill, the nausea seeming to be completely gone now, as if it hadn’t been there at all. You knew exactly what he was insinuating, and while it might seem that way, you weren’t ready to accept that it could be what he was thinking, you didn’t want to accept it. “I think they just changed the frying oil or something…” You excused, dabbing at your lips with a bit of toilet paper before exiting the bathroom, Minho right in tow. You couldn’t be pregnant, that would make him all the possessive, all the more obsessive and overbearing. You wouldn’t be able to ever leave, not that you were able to do that now anyway, but it would be so much worse. You probably wouldn’t even be able to look at the windows without him lecturing you. No… pregnancy wasn’t an option for you. 

As you stood at the sink, getting a glass of water from the tap to wash out the taste, Minho stood behind you, his hands placed gently on your stomach. It was the softest he had ever touched you, but you knew that it wasn’t exactly for you, it was for the little demon spawn that he assumed was inside of you. “Does my baby not like the fried chicken? Hmm? Whatever you want, daddy will get it for you… As long as your mommy tells me.” How could he sound so sweet? It was gag inducing, how he pretended to be so caring when he was practically trying to hold you hostage using a potential child. 

The next days were the same, the sudden nausea not even having the common courtesy to creep up on you, instead, hitting you full force, barely allotting you enough time to run to the bathroom or the trash bin to vomit. It didn’t matter what you ate, each day at the same exact time, it was always the same. You could see the light in Minhos eyes growing brighter each time it happened, but you were in denial, and you quite liked being in that state. You didn’t want to accept that there was a very real, very high possibility that you were now carrying his spawn. “I must be coming down with something…” You mumbled, resting your head in the palm of your hand, suddenly feeling exhausted, as if you hadn’t slept in days. It was another sign, another symptom, you knew that, but you hoped that Minho would overlook it. 

“Well it has been 2 weeks, more than that actually, my darling.” The smile that he was was nothing short of sinister as he ran to the bathroom and returned with two boxes in his hands. You knew this time was coming, you had been dreading it, hoping that you would get your period at any moment now. It never came though, and you were terrified of what the tests would undoubtedly reveal once you took them. “I’m sure taking them would answer a lot of your questions… Here…” He slid the boxes across the table, but you refused to even look at them, instead staring out the window, trying your best to block out everything that he was saying. You didn’t want to be pregnant, not by him at least. How could you even be happy bringing a child into this type of lifestyle? “Darling…” He murmured the pet name softly, but rough hands suddenly gripped your chin, turning your attention to him fully. “Take the tests. Now.” 

You huffed loudly, pushing yourself away from the table and snatching the boxes up before rushing to the bathroom. You knew well enough that if you didn’t get there in time and lock the door, he’d probably try to come in and watch you take them just to make sure you weren’t fabricating the results. It would have been a good idea, but you knew he’d notice. There was no way you could just run the test under the sink water and pretend they were negative. It’s not like he’d let you go if they were anyway, he’d just keep trying and trying… and once you started showing… He’d probably be more pissed off that you lied to him. 

“You’re taking quite a while in there… Do you need help?” The question was genuine, but you glared at the door, knowing that he wouldn’t see it. It was the only time you could make those kinds of faces at him without being reprimanded for it. The tests laid on the back of the toilet seat, and much to your dismay, the second line showed up faster and darker than you ever expected it to. “Fuck!” You thought to yourself as you unlocked the bathroom door and flung it open, slipping past him as he rushed in. He was too preoccupied with being excited over the tests to focus on you, at least for right now. All you wanted to do was sleep and hopefully wake up from the nightmare that you had been living in for the last 3 years. 

The First Trimester… 

There was no bond forming. For the most part, you tried to forget that you were pregnant at all. It was easier during this stage. Other than the nausea and the exhaustion and the slight pulling and pinching sensations you’d feel in your lower back and upper thighs, all things that you could write off as any other reason, you didn’t feel pregnant. You were still in denial, you didn’t want this. Minho wanted this, and he was the only one happy about it. This was the happiest you had seen him though, he was absolutely elated, but he was also overly protective, which was becoming a real pain in the ass. 

“I can get dressed on my own.” You muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to help you pull down your shirt after you had just put it on. “I really don’t like the hovering, it’s making me uncomfortable.” Were you allowed to be honest with him now? Would he excuse it as your hormones going crazy because of the baby? He wouldn’t yell at you, right? Not when you were in such a fragile state. He reached out further, grabbing your wrists, rather tightly, and pulled you towards him. Of course, he wouldn’t dare try to be so rough anywhere around your stomach, but everywhere else was still fair game. 

“You’re carrying my child, and as long as you are, I can hover as much as I like.” He hissed, and even though you didn’t like his tone, you were grateful that he wasn’t yelling. “I know you don’t want it. You’d probably be overjoyed if you miscarried. I won’t allow that to happen though, so just be good for me, let me help.” His expression immediately shifted, his head tilting to the side as the most innocent looking smile had his teeth flashing up at you. It was like whiplash, it made your head hurt. “So what would my babies like to eat today, hmm? Are you craving anything in particular?” He cooed, although his attention was still primarily focused on your stomach. 

Any other woman would want a man like him, a man that treated them this way and got this excited to find out they were pregnant. Any other woman could have him and all of his psychopathic tendencies. “I’m craving a nap.” You snapped, and you watched his nostrils flare out at your disobedient tone, but he didn’t say anything, instead getting off the bed and yanking the covers back for you, waiting for you to climb onto the mattress before carelessly throwing them back over your body. “Thank you.” You mumbled, rolling over onto your side so that your back was to him, tucking the covers around your chin and squeezing your eyes shut. It wasn’t just the raging hormones that tired you out, it was Minho too, him more than anything honestly. Living with him, well, no, not living, being stuck with him, was the most exhausting thing ever. 

“I’ll wake you up for your vitamins and for lunch.” He said sternly, more like a strict caregiver than the father of your unborn child. You hated him. You hated that he did this to you, that he chose you to be the object of all of his desires. Why did he choose you? He still hadn’t told you why, he just insisted that you were the one that he wanted. Now you were carrying his child, and you feared that you’d truly be stuck with him forever. What did you do to deserve that? 

The Second Trimester…

Most women would get an ultrasound at around 9 weeks. However, you had yours at 20 weeks. You didn’t go to a doctors office, instead, Minho had the doctors come to you. Even still, he didn’t want you leaving the house. Before the doctor was even allowed to see you, he had to sign an NDA, with Minhos reasoning being that he was an idol, and he didn’t want the public to know about his fiancées current condition. You still didn’t know when you had gotten engaged, but apparently it had happened at some point before the doctor's arrival. 

Seeing your baby on the screen made it impossible to deny that you truly were pregnant. It also made it hard for you to hate it as you during your entire first trimester. Was it truly the baby’s fault that their father was crazy? Did it’s fathers behavior make the baby inherently evil? No… of course it didn’t. The baby was still a part of you, and you were a good person. You wouldn’t allow your child to grow up to be like Minho. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said, pointing to the screen as if you’d understand what you were being shown, but Minho was mesmerized by what he was seeing, his jaw slacked in awe. 

“That’s my daughter… Our daughter? Really? Is she healthy?” It was Minho asking all the questions that most women in your position would be asking. You were too caught up in your own thoughts though. A baby girl, you were carrying his daughter. She’d be more like you, right? Maybe having a daughter would change the way he is, he’d become normal, a man that you could actually love and welcome having a family with. He wouldn’t want his own daughter to be with a man like himself, right? 

The doctor turned up the volume on the little tv, a rapid pulsing sound filled the room, both you and Minho were silent as you listened. “She’s healthy, very healthy.” The doctor said, smiling to both you and Minho. You were… happy. A single tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the screen, watching the baby squirm around, and you couldn’t wait to be able to feel her moving beneath your skin. “I’ll print out the pictures and then be on my way. I’d like to make another appointment for next month though, make sure she continues growing the way she should. I also want some bloodwork from you…” He motioned towards you, and you swallowed thickly, looking at Minho who looked slightly annoyed at the doctor's pushiness. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong, we just like to make sure that there’s no underlying problems. Better to be safe, right?” 

His words had you tensing up, your hands moving down to your stomach, rubbing over the small swell that had begun to form as your daughter grew bigger. “Why… Why would there be underlying problems? What could be wrong?” You squeaked out, not wanting to look up at the doctor, worried that his expression would give you a silent answer, one that you were scared to know. Minho was still, like a statue, only his eyes moving between you and the doctor, but there was no answer, just a soft sigh and a gentle tapping against your hand to try to calm you. The gesture was supposed to make you feel better, but you heard Minhos teeth gritting together. 

“It’s just precautionary. This is your first appointment since you’ve gotten pregnant. It’s to make sure both you and the baby are healthy and that there are no problems now or in the future. From what I see though, you and your daughter are perfectly fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Your hand was held lightly by the doctor who offered you a reassuring smile, but before you could thank him, Minho was, quite rudely, ushering him out of the room and shutting the door. On the other side of the door, in the hallway, you could hear Minhos aggrivated voice, low enough that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you could feel it, reverberating through the walls and the floorboards. He was talking so fast that the doctor didn’t have a chance to speak, and before you knew it, the front door was slammed shut and then Minho was storming back into the bedroom. 

“Touching you… Holding your hand… Who the fuck is that guy?!” Minho growled as he shut the door behind himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door. “You don’t need any more fucking doctors. You were doing just fine without them. There’s nothing else we need to know anyway. Our daughter is healthy and that’s what matters. There’s no need to have some touchy ass fuckwad coming in here, looking at you… Ugh!” You could see the heat radiating off of him, he was beyond angry, he was absolutely irate, and while you didn’t want to push him any further, what the doctor had said prompted you to speak up. 

“Min… Honey…” It was an attempt to soften him up, you never called him that, not unless you were trying to get him to agree to something. Most of the time it never worked, but it at least would keep him from going off as rashly as he would without the pet name. “What if there is a… a problem… I think we both should know. We don’t need to keep him as our doctor… We can find someone else… But I think the bloodwork is important.” You sat up on the bed, trying to get a better look at him, trying to read his expression, but he was completely blank. “Minho…” You tried to get his attention, unaware that you already had it fully and he was just deep in thought. 

“No…” His hand was held out, one finger up to silence you as a chuckle was huffed out of his parted lips, his breaths coming faster and faster as he pushed himself away from the door. “I know what you’re doing. I know what this is…” The pet name didn’t work, nothing would work, he was already angry as it was and you were simply making things worse. “You want him to come back… You want him to take you away from me. That’s what you want. I know you! You’ve wanted nothing but to leave since you’ve been with me! He can’t have my fucking daughter! And he sure as hell can’t have you!” He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and holding your face between his hands. It wasn’t exactly painful, maybe you were numb to the pain it might have caused at first, but now you just found it annoying. “What do I need to do to make you stay!?” He shouted, his breath fanning across your face with every word. It’s like he was using all of the air in his lungs to enunciate every syllable. 

“Minho, stop it.” You whispered, knowing that the wrong word, a wrong look, saying it in a way that he didn’t like, it would only have him spiraling deeper and he’d drag you right along with him. “Please… h-honey look at me… I’m not trying to leave you… I just want to know that me and the baby are healthy, that there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want anything to happen to either of us… I want her… Honey, I want a family with you…” Sure, you were really sugarcoating it to try to get him to calm down, but you also really needed to know that everything would be okay. The last thing you wanted was for something to happen to you and him blame your daughter for the rest of his life or vice versa. 

His hands dropped down to your shoulders, his body now shuddering, although you didn’t know if it was because he was about to cry or if he was just shaking with anger. It was always hard to gauge his reactions or how he was truly feeling. It had you on edge all the time, and you felt like a tiny rodent, cornered by a feral cat. “Nothing is going to happen to either of you…” He mumbled, his head hung low, his hair curtaining his face. “Stupid fucking doctor, putting that shit in your head, scaring my darling…” This wasn’t what you wanted, his anger once again shifted towards the doctor who was just trying to do his job. “Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you and our baby?” You shook your head, of course he wouldn’t let something happen to either of you, not because he cared, but because he couldn’t fathom the thought of not owning you anymore. “You’ll be just fine, darling. You’re overthinking what that jackass said.” And with that, it’s like all of the anger washed away, a sudden wave of calmness rinsing him clean of the negativity. “Let’s get something to eat. My girls are hungry, aren’t they?” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before shifting off of you and off of the bed, grabbing your hand and carefully helping you up to your feet. The sudden shift had you feeling dizzy, but it was welcome, at least he wasn’t yelling at you. 

The Third Trimester… 

Something was wrong, although you weren’t sure what it was. The ongoing nausea, the headaches, the blurred vision, you knew there was a problem. All you could think of was the argument that you had almost 15 weeks ago, wanting to at least have bloodwork done to make sure you were okay, but of course Minho had denied you of the simple procedure. If anything happened to you, it would be his fault, but he wouldn’t look at it that way, no, it would be someone else’s fault, it always was whenever he fucked up. 

“Someone’s tired…” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom where you were still laying. It’s not that you were actually that tired, you just couldn’t move without feeling sick. When he pulled open the curtains, you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning loudly as the bright sun only amplified the raging headache you were already suffering through. “Sorry, darling. Can’t lay in bed all day. Gotta get you up and moving. Come on.” He yanked the covers back and his eyes landed on your feet which had become so swollen you could barely even fit them in your slippers anymore. “What happened?” He whispered, although there was a slight panic in his voice as he gently grabbed your ankle and lifted it, looking over the extremity for any signs of injury. 

“I think… I think…” You kept starting the sentence only to be left practically winded after only saying two words. “Problem…” You settled for one word, hoping that it would get your point across and that he’d take some kind of action. He blinked a few times, backing away from the bed, his hands running through his hair as he seemed to be fighting an internal battle with himself. “Please…” You pleaded, your hands cradling your swollen stomach. If not to help you, at least to help your baby who he seemed to want more than anything. 

“Shut… Shut up! I’m thinking!” He screeched, suddenly pacing back and forth as his breaths came out sharply, sounding more like whistles as they came through pursed lips. “Why would you let this happen! What even… God dammit!” He shouted, his fist colliding with the wall in an act of frustration, and even though he was fully across the room, you jumped at the sudden act of violence. He would never hit you, no matter how mad he got he had never actually hit you, but when things got this bad, you always feared just how far he would go or how far gone he was. “What am I supposed to do?! Take you to the hospital?!” 

Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what he was supposed to do to keep both you and your daughter from potentially dying. “If I could just… have her… get her out… we could be… okay…” You said breathlessly, and he whipped around in your direction, his eyes wild and crazed. It truly seemed like he was losing his mind. “Min… I don’t want t-… to die… please…” You begged, the sudden onslaught of tears only making it harder to breathe. 

“Fuck! You think I want you to die!? You think I want that!?” He questioned, and soon his hands were back in his hair, tugging at the ends as he let out a loud scream. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it! It’s what you wanted to happen! You wanted to leave me so bad! You’d rather die than be with me!” He was once again blaming you, yelling at you for something that you didn’t even understand at the moment. You didn’t know what was happening, so why the hell was he attacking you for it? “Such a fucking bitch! God! Fuck! Get up!” You were being… belittled… insulted… cursed at for… dying? At least if you did die, you wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. You wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. But did you really want to leave your poor baby with someone like him? 

Getting up was a daunting task, it took you longer than it usually would just to swing your legs over the side of the bed. Every small movement made you feel like you had run a marathon, your breaths becoming more labored, your vision becoming spotty, and the urge to vomit became more of an oncoming threat as the bile from your otherwise empty stomach rose to your throat. There was no time to get to the bathroom, you weren’t even on your feet yet, and before you had any time to even warn Minho, you were doubled over, heaving up the acid that burned your throat on its way out. He watched, not coming close or helping you, but he watched, his lips parted and his eyes blinking rapidly as if what he was seeing wasn’t true. “Sorry…” The word was spoken in a single raspy breath, your head hung low with both shame, embarrassment, and pain. Your throat was scratchy now, and it felt like fire was being held against the back of it. Tears pricked your eyes and snot ran down your nose, stopping at your upper lip, and you didn’t even have the energy to wipe that away. 

“What happened…?” He asked, his voice once again soft, laced with the false tone of worry. It used to make you think he cared, but now you knew it was an act. It was all an act. “Let’s… Let’s go…” He said, his voice wavering. He truly didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to do this. It’s not like he had a choice though. You looked awful, like you were already standing at death's door, and that terrified him. He had seen you sick before, but he had never seen you like this. “C-Can you walk? Do you need… Uhm… Shit…” He was tripping over his words, but when he saw you try to get up on your own, he rushed over, his arm wrapping around you. 

Looking at you this close, he could see that your face was swollen too, and beads of sweat lingered on your forehead. “She hasn’t moved… Min… I’m- I’m scared…” You whimpered, and he pulled you closer to him, letting your body fall against his side, trying to take all of your weight as he walked you towards the front door. “Min…” You breathed out his name, your head falling against his shoulder. He hummed to let you know he heard you, grabbing everything he needed with one hand as he walked through your shared apartment. “If you have… to save any of us… save her… save the baby…” You wheezed, all of your weight falling against him, everything that he had been carrying was dropped immediately to catch you. 

“No… no no no! Stop talking like that! Stop it!” Minho shouted, his voice trembling from the sobs he tried to hold back. “I’m not losing either of you, dammit! I-…” He sniffled softly, and while your eyes had been closed the entire time, trying to block out the light that shone through the window in the living room, you could feel his eyes on you. “I love you… You know that, don’t you? I’m not… If anything happens…” The thought was stopped before he could get the words out, but you were stuck on the three words he had said prior. Love was such a strong emotion, you hadn’t felt loved the entire time you had been with him, and he had never said it before now either. Did the thought of you being gone forever make him change? If you did make it through, would he go back to the way he was before? Maybe death was the only escape… 

I’ll Make You Stay… 

There was no way the doctors would make him choose… It couldn’t be that serious. You were absolutely fine, right? He hadn’t noticed anything wrong until today… or were you just that good at hiding things from him? Why would you hide something like this from him? Were you afraid of him? Why were you scared of his love? He just loves you so much! What’s wrong with that? He wanted you to be with him forever, he wanted you to be his darling, why did you make it seem like that was so awful? He’d show you that you could be happy, that he could make you happy, you just had to stay with him, you had to stay. 

“Why can’t I go in?” Minho asked once again to the nurse who slipped out of the room. Each time he said it he was more irritated than the last. He just didn’t understand. What could be so wrong that he couldn’t be there for the birth of his daughter? Every time, the nurse would just sigh, getting more agitated with him. “I’ll just go in then. You can’t keep me from seeing her. That’s my wife, that’s my daughter! If you won’t tell me what’s going on then I’ll just-“ 

The nurse cleared her throat, although it sounded more like she was groaning. He tried not to let it bother him the way it usually would. He had far better, far more important things to worry about than the bitchy attitude of the nurse. “She didn’t want me to tell you. I’m trying to respect her wishes. She wanted to be alone.” The nurse explained, but it only stirred up more questions in Minhos now overactive mind. What was the reason behind you wanting to go through this alone? Did he not have a say in being able to watch his daughter be born? It was unfair, and once everything was over with, he’d be having a talk with you about how rude and humiliating it was for him to sit out in the hallway while you were delivering his child. He opened his mouth, not even to speak, just to breathe, and the nurse started talking, as if she assumed he was just going to continue complaining. “Both of them are not well. The last thing I wanted to do was go against what could possibly be her last wish. Are you understanding now, sir?” 

Your… last wish? It sounded like you were dying… It couldn’t possibly be that bad… Is it? Why would you want to be alone during a time like this? How could you leave him this way? Do you not even care about his feelings? It’s like you want to make him miserable! All he wanted was to have a family with you, to make you stay with him forever, and now you’re trying to get away by dying!? You were so selfish! Why couldn’t you just be healthy?! He had done everything right. He made sure you ate and had your vitamins and did daily exercises and that you always got enough sleep. If anything happens to you and the baby… It would be your fault! It would all be your fault! 

“An early blood test would have shown that this was a possibility. It would have potentially kept this from happening. If she was getting proper appointments, this would have been caught before it got this bad. Who was her OB?” The nurse asked, her clipboard resting against her forearm, her pen held in her other hand, as if she was waiting for the information to jot down. The mention of your doctor had his mind pausing for a split second… This is why you needed the bloodwork done? Why had no one told him that back then? Why was he not informed of the risks that would come along if the bloodwork wasn’t done? This still wasn’t his fault though… No, the doctor should have talked to you and him more about the benefits of getting early bloodwork done. 

It was the doctors fault… If he hadn’t been so touchy with you, it wouldn’t have been such a big deal for him to come back and do the bloodwork. It was all the doctors fault, and if something were to happen to you or the baby… Minho would make sure that the doctor paid for it. He told the nurse the doctor's name, trying not to let his smile break through the mask of sadness that he was wearing, but it was hard. The thought of getting that guy to potentially lose his job, it was nice, and he couldn’t help but feel a little… overjoyed, knowing that if anything were to happen to you and the baby, it wouldn’t be in vain, at least the doctor will suffer as well. “I guess I’ll… wait out here…” He said, the frown once again returning to his face as he dropped down into the chair beside your door. It was still hard not being in there with you, knowing that so many people were looking at you, touching you… He felt like he was going to lose his mind, and the only way that he was keeping himself slightly sane was by constantly telling himself that he could potentially lose you and his daughter if those doctors didn’t help you. 

He was in and out of sleep the whole time, his head falling against the wall and his eyes drooping shut, only for them to shoot back open whenever an alarm would go off, looking up at the light above your door to make sure it wasn’t for your room before drifting back to sleep once more when he realized it wasn’t. It had been hours, he finally stopped counting after the seventh, when the door finally opened and one of the nurses, different from the one before, walked out. There were dark circles under her eyes, she looked frazzled and exhausted, but there was no urgency, there was no sadness… Was everything okay? Would he be able to keep you and his daughter? “Sir…” She started, and Minho sat up straight, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at the nurse. “I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, I don’t want you to get excited just yet… Although your wife and the baby are… alive… That doesn’t mean that things are… okay.” It was like all of the hope was drained from his body immediately, even after hearing that you were alive… How could you still not be okay? 

“Well… what’s wrong? What happened? I mean… I need some information here!” He was trying not to get worked up, but the way the nurse seemed to be beating around the bush was highly aggravating. For Christ's sake, he’s your boyfriend, the father of the child, and she was talking to him like he was some nobody. He deserves… No, he needs to know what happened! “How is she not okay? Is the baby okay? Come on, tell me something, dammit!” He didn’t care if she was tired, or if she was emotionally worn out after helping you. That’s her damn job, and part of it is telling him what the hell is going on. 

She sighed loudly, clearly not happy with the way that Minho was talking to her, but he didn’t really care for that either. He wasn’t even allowed in the damn room, the least she could do was tell him what had gone on while he was locked out in the hallway. “The mother had preeclampsia which advanced to class one HELLP, which I will not go into full detail about, a simple google search will tell you what it is, but I will say that she had the most severe case of HELLP that I have ever seen in my years of working here. We were at a point where we worried that we would have to choose whether she lived or the baby lived. She had to have blood transfusions before we could even deliver the baby, she was in the early stages of kidney failure, and while we were in the process of trying to help the mother, the baby went into respiratory distress. We had to do an emergency c-section, which wasn’t easy because we were worried about hemorrhaging, which did in fact happen. The baby is currently in the NICU, she is underweight, we have to do tests to check her platelet count, she’ll most likely be in the NICU for a couple of weeks, and that’s minimum, especially if her platelets aren’t normal. The mother needs to stay because we have to make sure she doesn’t have any other underlying health issues, and we need to monitor her closely because the first couple days after delivering a baby with HELLP syndrome could be fatal. So yes, the mother and the baby are alive… But they are in no way, shape or form, okay or healthy enough to come home anytime soon. Does that answer your questions, sir?” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand anything that had been said to him, all he knew was that it was bad and that you wouldn’t be going home with him. How could you let things get this bad? Why didn’t you tell him? Surely you must have felt ill or something when this was all going on? And that damn doctor… Why did he have to touch you? Why did he have to make him so angry? If he had just been a normal doctor, he would have been allowed to come back and do your bloodwork. This all could have been avoided! It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t! How was he supposed to know that something like this could happen?! He had never read anything about this online! He didn’t know something like this could happen! It wasn’t his fault! 

“Anyway…” The nurse spoke once more, taking Minhos silence as an opening. “She’s resting, they both are. There’s going to be doctors in and out of the room constantly, so, if you’d like to go in there, you can, but I wouldn’t expect to get any rest. If I were you, I’d honestly just go home, get some sleep, and come back in the afternoon. They’re not going anywhere, it’s going to be a long road ahead of the both of them… And you need to get as much rest as possible to prepare for it.” And with that, she walked away. He was left alone in the hallway with his thoughts, the faint sound of a heart monitor beeping just beyond the closed door to your room was the only sound he could really focus on. 

You were alive… You had stayed… You weren’t leaving him. He would have his family, and he would have it with you, his perfect darling. Nothing like this would ever happen again, he had his baby girl, and he had you. The two of you were all he needed. Once he had you and his baby back home, he’d make sure he never had to let you out of his sight again. You were going to stay with him, he would make you stay. That’s why he wanted the baby in the first place, and in the end, he still got exactly what he wanted. 

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[barcaatthemoon]

special || lucy bronze x reader ||

lucy takes you out on a special date.

admittedly, lucy felt like a shit girlfriend. not only had you uprooted yourself for her twice, but you never complained once about the changes. the two of you had met in lyon, and while when you followed her to manchester, you hadn't been dating, she knew that it was for her. you had never been shy about your complete willingness to do things for lucy or just to be close to her.

at first, lucy had been guilty about your relationship. keira had figured things out before the move to barcelona. there technically hadn't been anything going on, but lucy had caught feelings for you. she had adamantly denied them and clung to keira, only to be shoved away and eventually broken up with.

it was through your comfort of your teammate and best friend that the two of you had finally gotten together. two seasons at barcelona together were great, and while lucy hadn't resigned yet, she had been adamant that you do so. she wanted to watch you play for the blaugrana forever. being a wag didn't sound too bad to lucy, especially with the amount of days off that her knee pain had kept her bedridden.

"where are you running off to so early?" you asked lucy as she tried to sneak out of bed. it was a day off, so you weren't getting up for another couple hours at the very least. usually lucy stayed with you, but it seemed like today she had somewhere to be. "did jona call you in to talk about your contract?"

"no love, i've just got something to check on real quick. i promise that i'll be back soon, and with breakfast," lucy promised you. you sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep. it was barely light outside, and all you wanted was to cuddle up with lucy, but you'd settle for breakfast.

it was about three hours later when lucy got back. she seemed somewhat disappointed to see you out of bed, but still brought you the breakfast takeout to the couch. she made herself comfortable behind you with an arm wrapped around your waist. close by, you could tell that something was bothering lucy, but you'd have to wait for her to open up to you about it.

"i was thinking that we could watch a movie this afternoon and then go out. i know that we usually do things the other way, but i was hoping you wouldn't mind," lucy said.

"whatever you want." you turned your head and pressed a soft kiss to lucy's lips. she hummed happily as she pulled you back to fully lay against her. the two of you stayed on the couch all afternoon until lucy's phone started to vibrate with text after text. lucy seemed to take that as some sort of cue to go outside and grab something from keira. "what is that?"

"a dress for our date," lucy told you. she shoved the back into your arms and ushered you to shower and get changed. you got ready in the master bedroom, trying not to rush yourself, but unsure of how much time you had. all in all, you were happy with how you looked, even if you were a bit unsure about all of the skin left on display by your dress.

"luce, where are we going?" you asked as you stepped into the living room. your jaw was nearly on the floor when she turned around. it was the first time in a few weeks that you had seen lucy in something other than joggers or her training kit. the slacks fit her nicely, clinging to her thighs in a way that sent shivers down your spine. her shirt was tucked in with the sleeves rolled up enough to see the muscles in her forearms as she moved about.

"somewhere special, but before we go, i have to tell you something," lucy said. she seemed a bit somber, and you knew in that moment it was about her resigning. "tomorrow morning, they'll announce my free agency. i'm not signing with barcelona, but i'm not going anywhere else either. it's not permanent, but i think it's time to take a little break from football."

"what are you going to do?" tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. you didn't want lucy to go all the way back to england, not when you were stuck at barcelona for another three years. your contract had been a good one, and lucy knew that you weren't going anywhere. you were happy at barcelona, and if she left, you knew that it wouldn't be the same. you didn't want to play anywhere without lucy there as well.

"i'll stay here. maybe travel a little, but i want to watch you play. i've got us a month set aside in the offseason to stay with my family, and then we can look into finding a bigger place. that building by the beach has an apartment open," lucy told you. she knew how badly you wanted to rent that place. it was nearly twice the size of your apartment, pet friendly, and practically right on the beach. it was the perfect place in your mind.

"lucy, i love you, but if you scare me like that, i'll never speak to you again," you threatened. both of you knew that it was an empty threat, but lucy still apologized and did her best to cheer you up on the way to your date. "luce, why are we at the park?"

"come on, you'll see." you were a bit apprehensive of lucy walking you through the park, but you trusted her. the sun was quickly setting in the sky, and by the time that lucy finally stopped the two of you, it was dark. lucy had your eyes covered up, but you could see the faint bits of lights through the cracks in her fingers.

"lucy, this is amazing. you did this for me?" your voice cracked, betraying the overwhelming happiness you felt. lucy cradled your face in her hands and brushed her thumbs across your cheeks. "why?"

"i didn't do it alone, but i did it because i love you. we've both been so busy lately, and you deserved a nice date night. i knew that you'd be upset when i told you about my decision, so i hoped this would help distract you. now, come on, let's enjoy this because i'm pretty sure that if we don't hurry, pina and patri are gonna come out of the bushes at any moment to steal our food," lucy joked. she pulled you over towards the table, where you did notice some rustling from behind one of the bushes.

everything was perfect. you had a delicious meal in a gorgeous setting with the best company in the world. the only thing that you thought could have made it better was if lucy had dropped down onto one knee to propose. however, you knew that lucy wanted both of you to be done with football before that happened. lucy's break wouldn't last forever, and even if it did, you knew that your relationship could handle whatever choices she made after that.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader

[creedslove]

MAKING OUT WITH THE BRIDE'S FATHER - JOEL MILLER HEADCANONS ✨

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: the reason why I love Pedro so much is that he always makes me feel alive no matter how bad the situation is 💟

A/N #2: besties I'm so sorry about this Headcanon, I know it's sooooo bad, but I had the idea several weeks ago I think I don't really remember and I've been writing a little bit every day since but I went through a lot in a short time and I lost inspiration but at the same time it was really bothering me to see it lying in my drafts unfinished, I'm sorry it sucks, but I love you all 💕

• you met Sarah Miller when she was only a freshman girl, completely lost in her first day of college after she was dropped off and looking like a scared little deer even if she tried assuring you she was alright

• you were a few years older than her and you'd been there, so you pretended to believe she was alright but still offered her some help to get her dorm organized and simply find herself around campus; she quickly accepted it and that was how your friendship had started

• during the semester, you became one of Sarah's best friends; as you were always there to help her out, advise her or simply offer her some company or comfort the days she felt lonely and missed her family too much - you knew she didn't know her mom and she was raised by her dad and her uncle which you thought it was pretty awesome of them, but other than that, you didn't actually hear much about them, as you both often talked about other stuff

• and so the years passed and soon enough Sarah was graduating and marrying her college sweetheart, Ben, who'd been introduced to her by you during a party, so it was more than exciting to be invited to that beautiful party

• so you packed your bags, got yourself a decent place on Airbnb and went to Austin, to celebrate the wedding of your beloved friend, due to conflicting schedules, you could only get there a few days before the wedding, which ruined your plans of meeting Sarah's family, having dinner together and getting to the city, since the most you were able to do was just handle the last adjustment and details for your dress, help Sarah with the arrangements for the party and of course, party hard in her bachelorette party

• the bachelorette party was partially organized by you, as you never really knew how those things were supposed to go, other than just the scenes you saw in several movies, should you go to a male strip club? Should there be men half naked rubbing themselves against you and your friends? You weren't so sure, so you talked to Sarah and you picked a nice nightclub to dance and drink

• so you and your group of friends hit the club, all in your best clothes, nice heels and Sarah wearing a cute little party veil so everyone would know she was the bride to be. The night was perfect and you danced and drank as much as you wanted, knowing you could just call yourself a Uber to go home

• you stayed until the end of the party, your group of friends had all left home in different Uber rides and Sarah was picked up by Ben just some moments ago, so you grabbed your purse, paid for your part of your check and went to the parking lot, since your uber wouldn't take much to get there

• and that was when you saw him: easily the most handsome man you'd ever seen, older than you of course, tall, broad, brown hair salt and peppered and leaning against his truck. He seemed to be waiting for someone, but his attention was immediately shifted towards you, and he couldn't pay attention to anything else

• you just caught Joel's attention as you walked out of that bar; you didn't seem drunk or wasted, but definitely a little tipsy and while he wasn't a creep - Sarah had accidentally called him and asked him to pick her up and there was no way in the world he wouldn't come for his little girl, even if she wasn't little anymore and was going to be a married girl in a couple of days

• and even when she explained to her dad that she didn't mean to call him and he didn't need to pick her up because she was already going home with Ben - clearly drunk, which bothered Joel but he couldn't actually do anything about it - he said he was just going back to sleep, omitting the fact he was already at the parking lot waiting for her. She wasn't a child anymore, but he really missed when she was one because then, she would still be his sweet little Sarah wearing her cute star PJs to bed, and not exiting the club completely drunk like she did a while ago

• but all that whining went away in the blink of an eye once Joel spotted you, because he couldn't recall seeing a better looking woman at a bar in so fucking long, that or it was because he hadn't gotten laid in so long, his balls might've been blue but he wasn't just gonna empty them on the first woman he saw, so he just kept using his hand for it

• but you... He swallowed hard and decided to take a few steps towards you, after all, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure you were doing okay and no creeps were bothering you, because he wasn't a creep, he just wanted to make sure you were alright

• and when you saw Joel walking towards you, you felt your breath caught in your chest. He was so freaking handsome, big and manly, the kind of man to put you on all fours and fuck you while he whispers into your ear what a good girl for him you really are

• and you didn't remember much of your interaction with him, when you realized what you were doing, you were pressed against the hood of his truck, kissing him hungrily while his strong hands squeezed your body and roamed all over you; your hands messing up with his curls, tugging at them slightly as you moaned into his mouth, against better judgement you could let yourself be fucked by him at that moment

• however, you didn't even know his name, it was a dangerous game your body begged you to play, but your rational side was still too alert for it, so when you managed to see your Uber had arrived, you found strength in yourself to get rid of his intoxicating touch in your body and simply run to the car, you should've asked his name, but you didn't

• and the following days after that night at the bar, as much as you tried thinking of something else, all you could focus on, was that handsome man and the way he held you, he gripped your body and kissed you; it was different from any kind of touch you'd experienced, that mysterious man seemed addictive to you

• but as the wedding approached, your lustful thoughts had to be placed aside so you could focus on all the tasks you had to do: help Sarah get ready, check the venue for her and so on, not to mention getting ready yourself for the event, being so busy you totally skipped the part where you'd meet her family

• as you waited in church for her with the rest of your friends, you couldn't help but being extremely shocked to see Sarah walking down the aisle by her father, whom you had never actually seen before that night at the bar, but he happened to be your mysterious fling from the parking lot

• Joel also couldn't believe the hot girl he'd made out with was his daughter's best friend, he knew he was older than you even if you both hadn't much time to talk, but he didn't expect that

• you two had to stop those feelings aside so you could focus on the ceremony, but the way Joel kept glancing at you, made it pretty obvious you'd have a very interesting wedding reception afterwards 😉

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons

[livelaughlovesubs]

Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!

Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤

I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(

Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it

Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around

Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.

To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.

The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.

Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.

You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?

After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.

One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.

Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.

Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.

You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.

Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.

After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.

It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.

“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”

“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.

The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.

Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.

#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T #boothill x you #honkai boothill #boothill star rail #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill x y/n

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: The morning after party seeing Tara in your house wasn’t something you would expect and why the hell you weren’t bothered by that at all?

tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, alcohol, throwing up, bickering, roller-coaster ride, curse words, memories

word count: 2.6k

The next day you woke up. Yesterday night you didn´t lose yourself much, like Chad for example. You weren´t a fan of alcohol or more like drinking somewhere where there are a lot of people you don´t know.

As you stood up from your bed and made your way into the living room you could smell something sweet. Your face turned into confusion.

What´s that?

You slowly walked into your kitchen and you saw Tara behind the counter, making food. You raised eyebrows at the scene in front of you. The girl turned around and realized you were standing there.

„Good morning.“ She said as she smiled at you. You were still looking at her with a confused face. She seemed different like she wasn´t the girl you were used to.

„Hey?“

She slowly walked towards you, smiling softly with playful eyes. „Why that long face?“ she asked as she was playing with her hands behind her back, looking up at you.

„What are you doing?“ you asked looking up behind her at the kitchen counter, still processing what was going on.

„Food silly.“ she smiled widely and put her arms around your neck. „For you.“ She whispered looking still into your eyes. She was so close you could feel her breath on your skin.

What the fuck is happening?!

You started to sweat and your breathing was getting faster by every second. Then when you felt like you were getting zero air into your lungs, your eyes opened and you sat on your bed.

You quickly looked around you with eyes wide open, touching yourself on both arms and chest. As if you were making sure you were real. Then you realize you are in your room, in your bed. It was a dream.

„What the fuck?!“

You stood up from the bed, tripping over the blanket as you tried to stand up fast from the bed.

You ran into the kitchen but was only met with nothing. Everything was where it was supposed to be, not a single change. You looked around one more time when suddenly you heard a groan from the living room.

,,You stomp like an elephant.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. You knew who it was, now you remember clearly.

That little dwarf.

You went into the living room and saw the brunette laying on her stomach. One of her legs was over the edge of the couch, the same as her arm, and the blanket was on the ground. It was weird position but, whatever works for her.

Maybe short people have different sleeping positions.

,,You won’t say anything?” She asked again, and she lifted her head a little in your direction. Her hair was everywhere along with her mascara.

,,You look ugly.” You replayed with your morning voice and left the living room. After that you felt the soft pillow hit your back.

You just laughed at her when you heard her saying something under her nose as you kept walking away.

-

That day you and your friends went to the theme park. It wasn´t probably the best idea, Chad was currently throwing up in some bush. And you went to just on a carousel. Really slow carousel.

It´s not like you were telling him to go with you. He was the one that wanted to go, saying that he was fine.

„You okay buddy?“ you tapped his back, giving him some tissues. He nodded and stood up straight.

„Never better.“ He looked at Mindy. „Can we go again?“

See? He wasn´t even touched by a situation that he was in just a couple of seconds ago.

„No, definitely not.“ She grabbed him by the arm and started to walk him somewhere. Probably toilets. Her voice was fading away as they were getting far by each step, still scolding him.

You were standing there with just Tara, Anika, Ethan, and his sister Quinn. Not knowing where to go without the two siblings. You sighed and went to sit on the bench as you were waiting for them to come back.

It was fun at first, you all laughed at the slow ride and enjoyed the cool weather in your hair. Then all of a sudden Chad´s face got a little green and he just bent forward with his hand on his stomach.

You smiled a little as you repeated the scene in your head again.

„Can we go to that next?“ Tara asked as she was pointing at the big roller coaster above your heads. The people who were currently on the ride were screaming with their eyes closed and hands up in the air.

You raised your eyebrows as you were looking up at the switchback. „You sure they would let you in?“ you asked the girl. „They have a height restriction there.“ you continued with a little smirk.

Tara´s smile slowly fell and was now looking at you with angry eyes. „Oh, I´m more worried about you. You look like you just shit in your pants by only looking at it.“ She said with a provocative voice. „You don´t have to hide your fear by camouflaging it with something else.“

„Says a girl who won´t even get there because she stopped growing in kindergarten.“

„At least I´m not scared of a ride for kids!“

„For kids? So you just wanted to go among your own?“

„What did you say you fuckin-“

You continued your bickering without realizing Mindy and Chad already came back. Everyone was just ignoring the two of you, already used to it.

„I´m not scared!“

„You are! Why else you would not want to go there?“

You breathed out through your nose as you were shooting daggers at the girl in front of you. You didn´t want to admit it but from that crazy roller coaster, you were feeling respect. But you were not scared... or were you? No, you needed to prove it to her and maybe to yourself too.

Your legs started to shake a little with adrenaline as you were now standing in the row full of people waiting for the ride.

Tara was beside you, smiling mischievously at the ride and then back at you. Your hands were getting wet and your heart couldn´t keep up.

It´s just a stupid ride.

As you got into your seats and you got locked in your chest was rising faster. Tara was beside you smiling and holding onto the railing in front of her tightly.

You looked down at your friends who were standing under the roller coaster laughing at you with their phones in their hands. Your eyes were pleading with help and before you could say something to them the ride started.

Throughout the whole time, you and Tara were screaming at the top of your lungs. The brunette beside you was screaming because of excitement and you were yelling because of fear. You just wanted it to end already.

It went up and down, right and left. The worst part was the one when you went all the way to the top and suddenly came down at high speed.

When it ended your hair was everywhere and your eyes were wide. Your legs were shaking and as soon as you felt the touch of the ground you fell onto your knees with happiness across your face.

„Thank you!“ you yelled into the sky.

Tara was still laughing hard beside you, holding her stomach and her dimples on display.

It has been such a long time since you have seen them. You almost forgot how they look. They were bored deep into her cheeks, just like the last time.

Mindy ran in your direction with others laughing at you. „Are you guys okay?“ You were taking deep breaths in and out as you were looking up at Mindy, still on the ground.

„It was fine.“ You quickly stood up and brushed your knees as if you didn´t just have a panic attack. Tara laughed at your answer humorously.

„You almost started crying up there.“

„I did not!“ Your face had a deep color of red all around your cheeks, clearly embarrassed from it.

„Oh boy look at this!“ Chad pointed out at the photo of you and Tara on the roller coaster. „They took a photo of you two!“

When everybody got the chance to see it they instantly started laughing. In the photo were you and Tara with open mouths, screaming. Your hair went with the wind and speed of the ride and your hands were holding each other tightly.

You don´t even remember it. Your eyes were wide open showing fear but Tara´s were close. She looked really happy in that photo.

„Wha- They fucking photoshopped it! I didn´t look like that!“ you yelled as you pointed at your face in the picture. You refuse to believe that.

„Oh you are such a sissy!“ Tara laughed at you and held her hand before her mouth.

„I´m not!“ you scrunched your nose and folded your arms on your chest as you looked away from your laughing friends.

Oh, you were such a kid.

You were trying to throw the photo into the trash can but Tara wanted to keep it, saying she wants to remember your scared face forever. She couldn’t be more excited to tease you about it later.

-

 You loved most of your childhood memories. You loved bringing yourself back to the good times when everything was so simple. Well, that time it was hard and you didn´t understand a lot of things.

When people say “I would want to go back in time with my current thinking“ you know what they mean.

You were pretty stupid, keeping your mouth shut in times when you needed to say something. You always wanted to protect everyone from everything and be a good friend even to those who didn´t deserve it. But who protected you? It was always easier for you to protect someone else than yourself.

You were currently sitting on your bed, in your dad’s house. The bag in which you brought clothes in was beside your legs. You wanted to stay here for the weekend, just take a rest from school and fast life.

This house brought you a lot of memories. It was enough to just look somewhere like the faded colors of your room or the porch swing that was behind the house. The ticking clock in the hallway that you hated because of how they were loud in the night and the smell of the flowers that were decorating the garden. Or the photos that were hanging on almost every wall in the house.

This was yours and you felt safe here.

-

„Oh my, I missed this so much.“ You said as you were chewing on the burger in your hand. Your dad laughed at you as he was turning around some meat on the grill.

The both of you were sitting outside on the wooden chairs by the big oak table. Your father built this a couple of years ago, like half of the things in the house. He loved the handmade things and enjoyed doing them.

Behind you was an orange sunset that was slowly fading because of the hills that were covering the sun. You could hear the crickets in the distance and the gentle wood cracking in the fire. The soft warm wind was bringing you the smell of the roasted vegetables and meat.  

You talked about the city and your school. He asked about your friends and how are they. Your dad loves them. He remembers a lot of times when you brought them to your house and how he laughed a lot of times at you. He loved spending time with you and every time your friends came he couldn´t say no.

When it got dark you cleaned everything and went to the house. You wanted to spend time with him as much as possible so you offered to watch some games on TV.

„Last week I was cleaning the loft and I found this.“ He said as he sat beside you on the couch.

You looked confused at the box he was holding in his hands. Just from the looks you could tell it was really old, on the top of it was left dust that wasn´t well wiped. „What´s that?“

He gave the box into your hands. „Look.“

You opened the top of the box with scrunched eyebrows. In the box were photos. Your family photos. Most of them were yours from when you were a toddler to your first day in kindergarten and school. Your graduation photo.

There were also photos from every year with your classmates. You could see how you were changing each year. There were some of the family celebrations like birthdays or vacation photos.

As you were browsing through the photos your eye caught two photos. The first one was when you were in first grade in school. It was a couple of weeks after you started to go to school.

In the photo were standing four kids. You, Mindy, Chad, and Tara. You laughed at the image. Mindy was the tallest of all of you at that time. You and Tara were the same height and Chad was a little shorter than you. The four of you were wearing school uniforms and on your backs were big school bags.

You put the photo away and now you were looking at the second photo. Your face became stoic as your eyes were scanning the photo.

You were holding that for a couple of seconds like you were remembering something. Your dad was still looking at you, trying to read your face.

-

It was a sunny day in the middle of summer. It was one of the hot days when you could almost feel the warm rays of the sun.

Laughing and yelling could be heard around the playground in a park. Parents were sitting on benches looking out for their children on talking to each other. It was perfect weather for taking a walk in the park to hide from the fierce sun.

Tara was just 7 at that time. She was swaying on one of the swings nearby, enjoying the air that flew through her loose hair. Her legs went up and down at every change of the swing position. Her hands tightly held the chains on both sides, carefully so she won´t fall.

She slowly stopped and was now just sitting there looking around her. Kids were chasing each other around, climbing on a small caste to slide down the slide or they were playing with sand.

Suddenly she felt pressure on her back and she was forced to fall in front of her. The sudden movement made her fall into her knees and palms of her hands, barely keeping herself up. Tara´s first reaction was to look at the part of her body that was in pain, her palms were stretched from the small stones that were at the ground.

The small girl could hear a laugh from behind her. There were three boys that Tara knew from the school, they were a year older than her and were always doing bad things to others.

„Oh, my bad! Didn´t see you there!“ One of them laughed and went to sit on the swing that she sat on before. The other two kept laughing at her, she was still on the ground looking at them. She slowly stood up and brushed her knees. Tara saw how her knees were red and dirty from the fall on the ground.

„What? Don´t tell me you want to cry?“ 

Tara´s eyes started to water. She felt scared and alone. Suddenly the boy that was on the swing was pushed hard on the ground, exactly like Tara was. His hands didn´t catch him in time and he fell right onto his face.

Tara and the two other boys were standing there shocked at what just happened. You were standing behind the swing with angry eyes. You then looked at the two boys that were beside you and took a step in their direction. That made them run away from the three of you.

The boy that was on the ground touched his hurt face. He noticed that on his palm was blood and not from the ground. But from his nose.

„You want to cry?“ you asked him as you were walking to him. His face was dirty and under his nose was a little blood. Scared of what would you do next he wanted to quickly stand up and run away but you were fast to grab him by the sleeve of his shirt.

„Don´t ever do that again.“ You told him and pushed him again. Then you looked at Tara and saw her just standing there with her big brown eyes. She was your best friend at the time.

You went to her and with your small arms hugged her. She thanked you and you went to help her treat her wound. After that, you came back and played together till your parents called you home.

Tara was smiling the whole time she was with you. With her deep dimples and shiny eyes.

-

The photo you were holding was you with Tara, standing beside each other. One of your arms was around her shoulders and hers was around your waist. Both of you had wide smiles across your faces.

You almost forget about it. You used to have the biggest crush on Tara. She was your first-ever friend. Even before Mindy. She was the reason you begged your dad to let you be outside a little longer or you would run to school or the playground just so you could see her. You would always protect her from everyone and everything, make her laugh and spend time with her.

You shook your head at the memory with a small smile. Funny how time changes.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x gender neutral reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x fem reader #jenna x g!p reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara x reader #tara carpenter #tara x female reader #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader

[vampiresbloodx]

a/n: based of the recent episode! 3x14! So might be spoilers, maybe.

As summer is just around the corner, you're older!gf!Melissa has a few or maybe more ideas on how she wants to spend her summer this year. And it's gonna be different, because now she has you. You couldn't contain your excitement as you said your goodbyes to the last kid leaving your class as you happily and practically skipped your way to Melissa's class, you know Janine has hosted a party and you two have planned to go to that. You wouldn't want to let a friend down. Melissa however, just wants to get drunk.

"here early hmm? Someone's excited" a familiar voice snaps you out of your daydream of a certain redhead who's standing in front of you right now with her hands on her hips, looking rather pleased.

"early? I'm right on time" you say with a small smile, "the last kid from my class just left with their parents."

She nods.

"and you came to see me?" She questions, you frown, confused.

"well, yes, because we're dating, I'm your girlfriend and you're my girlfriend" you say.

Melissa smiles.

"your girlfriend? And you're mine, I like the sound of that."

You shake your head, your cheeks burning as you hear her chuckle, she wraps an arm around your shoulder and you shudder from her touch.

God you've missed her.

Sure you see her all day, sure, you two work together in the same environment, sure, there's not one moment where no one can seem to catch you two apart, but you still wanna be by her side always. As much as you can.

Janine's party was definitely one you weren't expecting. Arriving with Mel you saw how easy she had her and Barbara with organising and cleaning stuff around her apartment, you found it ridiculous, laughing at them, you knew Mel wasn't the one for a messy place. Then Janine hit you with what she wanted was everyone to be involved, have fun, for you just being by Melissa all night long would do the trick, shocking, right? Janine knew you well, she wouldn't want you two seperated at all.

It was an hour or so into the party, Melissa was already tipsy, so was Barbara, and everyone else, except maybe a few people. You weren't always a fan of parties but this was for your friend and well Melissa wanted alcohol.

As of lately, Melissa had only just become more comfortable with PDA in your relationship, it wasn't that she hated it, she just didn't like people watching too much. You were hers, no one else's. You didn't know why she thought anyone would be bothered by it, when no one else seemed to care.

Then unexpectedly, you feel hands wrap around your waist and pull you in closer, you were about to cuss whoever had the dumb idea to do that but you smelled a familiar perfume and saw Melissa, you smiled, relaxed against her, she was enjoying herself, and so were you.

She began to kiss along the back of your neck, you bit down on your bottom lip to stop from being too loud, forgetting your at a friend's party, but everyone else was lost in their own world, dancing, partying, you both swayed to the music, she didn't seem to stop, nor did you want her to.

"Mel" you said, unsure if she could even hear you, you grabbed her hand, she looked at you, smiling. "Take me to yours?" You asked.

And she nodded, grabbing you as you two didn't even bother to say goodbye as she rushed you out.

You two laughed, smiling so much it hurt as you held each other.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti imagine

[scoatneyhall]

WILD. Was anyone else aware that the Ted Lasso team has gone in and made post-production edits on season 3 episodes, sometime in the last year?

I've been rewatching the finale in advance of the one year anniversary of it airing, and straight off, I noticed that the points total on the graphic looked different to how I remembered it - a much closer race. It stuck out because I remembered being annoyed that they didn't celebrate the moment Richmond got confirmed for the Champions League, as the gap was big enough for it to have happened a while ago, offscreen. I still have a screencap from when the episode aired:

However, the current copy on Apple has an updated graphic, making the post-production graphic in line with the numbers on the actual physical whiteboard prop and the script mentioning the win streak. See here:

The corrected copy makes Richmond's points match the whiteboard, but it also puts the teams in 3rd to 5th place much closer to them points-total wise, meaning that now, in the current version of the episode, Richmond only qualified for the UCL in "Mom City," making it make more sense that the start of 3.12 is the first time it gets discussed. Would have been nice to mention that stake in the City match commentary during 3.11, but I genuinely am shocked that they went back in and edited the already-published episodes to clean up the post-production errors. For the record, here's the whiteboard as of 3.08: W10, D9, L6.

Just in case anyone cares, the order of those results was - 1 draw against Chelsea, 6 wins with Zava, 1 loss against West Ham, the rest of the draws and losses occurring between 3.05 and the loss against Arsenal in 3.07, and then the 4 wins mentioned at the start of 3.08. By the start of 3.12, it's mentioned they are on a 16 game win streak, so that's 22 wins overall, 9 draws, 6 losses, going into the final weekend, hence the updated graphic.

I like that they went in and fixed it - no idea when in the past 12 months that occured - but I also kind of can't believe they bothered? Then again, I can't believe the mistake was made in the first place, as they were so specific with details in the prior seasons, so maybe they couldn't live with it being wrong.

I know there were rumours about a ton of issues in terms of getting these episodes posted in time - right down to the wire, still fixing the edit on the airdate - and it's clear that these details were not checked and confirmed by the poor people in post who were not working off the show bible that lives in the writers heads. I don't blame them at all, I blame the people who got the edit to them late, but it did annoy me during the season a LOT. The maths wasn't mathing, and as we know this is a show that has been careful with dates and timelines and stuff like that.

Anyway! The point is, a) this post about my UCL qualification fantasies is now moot, and b) I went back and checked another post production error that had REALLY pissed me off, which was the dates of texts in Ted's phone in 3.04. Phone dates have always given us the timeline quite strictly before - it's how @belmottetower and I started the timeline in our primer, with Ted arriving in London on January 6, 2020 and then following the football seasons from there to place the season 3 finale in May 2022 - but in 3.04, all the cute texts we see to all the characters in his phone were badly misdated, placing the timeline further in the future. This caused arguments or misunderstandings, at the time about the actual timeline of the show, but it seems this was another detail the producers really wanted to fix and tighten up, as they've gone back and had it edited.

It's weird, because the texts Ted was actually going back to - the messages from Doctor Jacob - were dated correctly as late 2019, and there's even a little easter egg in the form of a US rideshare notification picking him up to go to the airport in America, on 5 January 2020. (Even the area code, 316, is apparently correct to Kansas.) That's all correct even in the original version of the episode, but somehow we then skip a year and place his most recent texts, as of 3.04, in late October 2022, when they should only be in late September or early October 2021. (I found this post on Reddit that screenshotted his phone at the time.) Examples:

I had to go back and check this, and sure enough, it's been edited to reflect the established timeline - they didn't just redate the year on each message, they also changed a bunch of the chats to be more recent - so rather than dates, his most recent chats with Henry, the Coaches, etc are from "Yesterday," then the first dated texts are in very late September 2021. This matches up pretty perfectly with where they are in a typical Premier League season - they REALLY cleaned it up. Further back, they do just switch the years on the dates, so he still got a picture from Sassy last Valentines Day, and his last one-on-one contact with Jamie is still set before the events of Wembley in 2.08 (FA Cup semi finals are in April, so a few weeks after the March 2021 date on Jamie's chat.)

My brain is itching because I swear there was a screen of Nate and Ted's text chat at some point too? With Ted reaching out about his new job, on a date that deeply did not work with the timeline? But maybe I imagined it. There's no record of Nate's number in his phone at all now, and the texts date back to before Nate left, so I guess in this version of events, Ted deleted Nate's number and message history.

Anyway, I'm aware that basically no one is going to care about this, but I suspect that the three people who will actually care will REALLY FUCKING CARE. Has anyone else noticed it? Does anyone know when it may have happened? Does anyone know what else might have been changed or fixed? I love details and I love the fact that there is no longer conflicting data about what football seasons the show is covering - it's mid 19/20 to the end of 21/22, end of story - but what a fucking mess the production of season 3 must have been, to end up at this point!

#ted lasso #ted lasso meta

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 2 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: i can't tell you all how i excited i am to get this fic going! thank you for the lovely comments on the first chapter, i promise there is a lot of cool stuff to come!

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 2 - The Patrol

‘Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.’  - Richard Silken, The Worm King’s Lullaby

There is a thin sheet of ice covering the streams that are heading downwards. It crunches under the hooves of their horses that dutifully carry them up the hill and past the gas station. Joel is glad that it's Tommy next to him. He's more tense than he's felt in ages, a gnawing feeling in his stomach that has little to do with the skipped breakfast and a lot with the worry that is etched into the frown between his brows. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this, much less try and calm him down, something he knows is a lost battle.

“They might be fine, Joel,” his younger brother says gently, just loud enough for him to hear. Tommy thinks there will be no response until one comes, a little too late for it to not be premeditated.

“She talked about leaving, sometimes. They would be stupid enough to run off-”

“And leave Jackson?” Tommy raises a brow. “Maria said their house looked normal, all their things still in place. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave all that behind.”

Joel doesn't want to hear it. He knows, better than anyone. Knows that you wouldn't just leave, not without saying goodbye to the children you'd come to care about so much. Would you leave him without a goodbye?

He almost hopes you would. Because if you didn't leave willingly, what was the alternative? It would've been nearly impossible for someone to take you from inside Jackson with no one noticing. But he can't shake the feeling that something is off.

It’s Tommy who has to keep reminding him to ride slow, to keep an eye on the ground for possible tracks. Joel just wants to go, to spur Old Beardy on until they're galloping up the hill, despite not knowing where it is he needs to go. He just wants to find you. Preferably in one piece, happy and healthy. 

He would’ve missed it.

The small footprints leading off the road and onto a smaller path, one that's twisting through pines and further into the woods. 

Tommy nods. “Pretty sure ‘tis the one that leads to the hunting cabin.”

It only takes a few minutes for them to be sure. The wooden cabin is hidden away behind a few trees, difficult to spot if you don't know where to look. It doesn't really serve any purpose, at least not anymore. The roof at the back caved in years ago, allowing rain and plants alike to enter the dimly lit room. It’s less than five miles from the gate of Jackson, tucked away from the main road.

He can’t help but think that this would be the perfect place to run off to. Or to hide a body.

Joel is off his horse in a second, not even bothering to tie the stallion's halter to the wooden posts in front of the cabin. Without thinking, he tugs his revolver out of his waistband, using his foot to nudge the door open.

He smells it before his eyes even have a chance to adjust to the dim light. The unmistakable stench of blood. And mixed with it, creating an odor that immediately makes him sick to his stomach, the smell of gunpowder in the air.

***

The sun has been slowly rising while you’ve been flipping through the pages, trying to find the volumes you’re looking for. The library of Jackson, though rather small, has been frequented more and more, especially in the winter months when the weather doesn’t always allow activities outside and people resort to what they’ve always known: Books.

The entire place is supposed to be relocated soon, to a small store on main street. But compared to the greenhouses needing repairs and the stables being expanded, books don't seem to be a priority for most of the townsfolk.

“Books can’t feed us or keep us safe,” Maria pointed out when you brought the slow progress up to her. You politely disagree. You feel like you could live off books for the rest of your life.

Still, packing up everything means the old place, a shed tucked away behind the church, is currently a mess. Sagging bookshelves, a leaky roof and too many books for too little space means chaos. One that only few bother to navigate in its current state. You among them.

It was the crack of dawn when you slipped out of the house, deciding to let Lane sleep in while you walked through the still empty streets to the far end of the town, hoping to get the library work out of the way before the first lesson of the day.

Maria is the one that finds you, making your head peek up from between two shelves with a frown. “You changed your mind on those books?”

She gives a small laugh, one that sounds oddly like relief. Then her face becomes stern again, the look she carries much more often. “You two have some explaining to do, do you realize that?”

Now it's your turn to frown. “We two?” She pauses at that, looking around the small room. But there is no one here but you and her and the characters bleeding from the pages.

“Is Lane not with you?”

You shake your head, turning your attention back to the book in your hands. “She has the 8AM class today.” 

“She's not there,” Maria curtly responds. You can tell she's trying to keep her voice steady but there is a hint of anxiety regardless. 

“Then she overslept again,” you half guess-half ask, closing the book again.

“She's not at home either.”

An odd feeling crawls over your body. You can't remember what was in your hands a moment ago, but the question is forgotten in an instant. Maria carefully watches as you step out from between the shelves, her tone still gentle. “I've sent Tommy and Joel out to search. We thought you two snuck out.”

You feel numb as you shake your head. “No, I- I didn't see her this morning. I thought she was still asleep.” You rack your brain for the memories of this morning, of last night, of the last week even. But nothing comes to mind, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I was out late last night, finishing up some paperwork,” you mutter, more to yourself than the woman in front of you, retracing your steps in your mind. “Lane got home before me, I had dinner, we talked about blueberries-”

“Blueberries?” Maria asks, her hand already back on the doorknob. She seems restless and it's that fleeting detail that worries you more than anything. Maria stays in control. Always. 

“Yeah, we- It doesn't matter. I don't know where she is,” you finish lamely, getting up and joining her at the door. But she hasn't moved yet.

“You should stay at home. I'm sure she'll show up again soon and if she comes back to your place, someone should be there.” You nod but your mind is already drifting again. Lane’s been doing fine, good. So have you, really. Maria gently reaches for your shoulder, steering you out of the shed and towards the church, down the street that leads to the center of Jackson. 

You're passing the small graveyard that's protected by brick walls, the stones already withered, pale in contrast to the dark metal fence running along on top. The gate is ajar, but you barely pay it any attention as the information settles in your brain. It takes a few seconds for it to reach your mouth and leave your lips.

“She went out a few times.” 

“Out?” Maria enquires, raising an eyebrow as her attention shifts back to you.

“I thought she'd met someone. Cat and her were pretty close and I figured-” You give a small shrug. It's more than uncomfortable, suddenly, and absurd, that you're discussing Lane's private life so openly, with Maria of all people.

“Don't tell her I said that,” you add quickly. 

Maria nods as you reach the end of the brick wall. “I won't. I'll get back to the city hall and see if there’s any news yet. You go home.”

Your head nods as if on its own accord. Maria has already turned her back towards you when you pipe up. “Maria?” 

She pauses, her back straightening a bit. “Yes?”

“You don't think anything happened to Lane, do you?” 

The older woman shakes her head softly. “No. I'm sure she's fine. Now get home. Maybe she's already there.”

And she hurries off, leaving you at the corner of the street with a trembling body and a heavy feeling in your stomach. For a fleeting moment, you allow your thoughts to wander past the point you've been dreading to consider. What if something has happened? If Lane did sneak out, maybe with Cat, maybe alone, and got into some sort of situation? What if she's hurt?

The sky has turned from pink to a light blue, only a few clouds piling around the mountains on the horizon. You glance down at your hands, shaking ever so slightly. You decide to blame it on the cold. The cold that may be getting to your head as well. Because after a few moments, you turn on your heels, heading for the stables. It's only a few rows of houses until the large wooden wall looms in front of you, blocking out the little sunlight you could get in the morning. The wall that protects you from what lies beyond. Infected and Raiders and maybe, you think, as you slip into the stables, maybe answers.

if you enjoyed the chapter, please consider reblogging/sharing and commenting, every single notif on this fic makes my heart swell with love <3

#to dig a grave #joel miller / reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller / you #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller / original female character #joel miller / oc #joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tommy miller #ellie williams #softpascalito #tlou #hurt/comfort #angst #smut #grief/mourning #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel / reader #joel x reader #chapter 2

[thedensworld]

Towel Argument | H.Js

Pairing: Joshua x Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, bit of angst

Summary: Towel is just a towel. It's not something essential. But why it is able to crack a relationship? Joshua is the first man to proof you that you won't have a towel argument.

You sat on the edge of the bed after finishing your nightly routine. Joshua, your husband, was likely still on his—meticulously ensuring every window was closed and every door locked before coming to bed. Your first intention was to wait for him so you could cuddle together, but your mind drifted to the conversation you had with your friends earlier today.

One of your friends, Jinah, had confessed that she was going to divorce her husband after just two years of marriage. All of you had offered sweet words and encouragement, striving to be the support system Jinah needed. Jinah explained that she had decided to divorce her husband because of a persistent argument about towels that irritated her every day. The irritation had snowballed into something intolerable for Jinah.

You couldn't help but pity the situation between Jinah and her husband. They had dated for seven years before marrying, only for Jinah to discover something post-marriage that she couldn't stand. It made you reflect on the complexities of relationships and how small issues, left unresolved, could lead to such drastic outcomes. You wondered if Jinah might regret this decision later, but respected her choice to pursue what she felt was best for her happiness.

Lost in these thoughts, you barely noticed Joshua finally joining you.

"Hey..." Joshua tapped your shoulder, pulling you away from your thoughts. You looked at him, slightly startled.

"I've been calling you. What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. He knelt down in front of you, positioning himself close to your swelling tummy.

A gentle smile lingered on Joshua's face as he wrapped his arms around you, his lips brushing against your stomach in a tender kiss.

"Is something bothering you, love?" he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and care.

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for his presence and the way he always seemed to know when something was on your mind.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the day's conversation settle over you again. "It's just something that came up during my gathering with the girls today," you began, your fingers lightly tracing circles on Joshua's arm.

He looked up at you, his eyes full of curiosity and concern. "What happened?"

"Jinah...she told us she's going to divorce her husband," you said, watching his reaction carefully. Joshua's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Really? They've only been married for two years, right?"

You nodded. "Yes, but they've been together for seven years in total. It was shocking to all of us. She said it was because of this constant argument about towels that irritated her every day. She felt it was something she just couldn't tolerate anymore, and it snowballed into a bigger issue."

Joshua's expression softened with understanding. "That sounds really tough. It's always the little things, isn't it?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the comfort of Joshua's embrace, but the thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. "I guess, seeing Jinah go through this made me worry about us," you admitted softly. "Especially with the baby on the way. There's just so much to think about—stress, work, everything that could affect our relationship."

Joshua's eyes remained gentle and reassuring as he listened. "I understand," he said, his voice steady. "It's a lot to take in, and it's natural to feel worried."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "I'm scared that with all the changes coming, we might face challenges that we haven't even considered yet. The stress from work, sleepless nights with the baby, trying to balance everything—it just feels overwhelming sometimes."

Joshua squeezed your hand gently, his touch grounding you. "We will have challenges, that's true. But we also have each other. We can face those challenges together, just like we always have."

You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. "But what if it's too much? What if we start arguing over little things like Jinah and her husband did?"

Joshua shook his head slightly, his expression resolute. "We'll argue, sure. Every couple does. But the important thing is how we handle those arguments. We need to keep communicating, be honest with each other, and make time for ourselves as a couple, even with a baby in the mix."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of fear and relief. "I just want us to be okay, no matter what."

He brushed a tear from your cheek, his thumb lingering softly on your skin. "We will be. We'll make it through because we care about each other and our family. And when things get tough, we'll lean on each other even more."

As you and Joshua got ready to sleep, both of you lay down on the bed. Joshua was almost drifting off, his breathing slowing into a relaxed rhythm. You, however, couldn't find a comfortable position, something that had become a nightly struggle as your stomach grew. You shifted from side to side, trying to settle in.

Your mind kept circling back to Jinah and her husband. The thought of their crumbling marriage weighed heavily on you. Sensing your restlessness, Joshua stirred and pulled you gently into his embrace.

"Try to get some sleep, love," he whispered, his voice drowsy but caring.

You sighed, unable to hold back your thoughts. "It's not really about the towel, you know," you said softly, your voice tinged with frustration.

Joshua blinked, trying to shake off sleep. "What do you mean?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"It's actually not just about the towel."

"The fact that Jinah had to keep repeating herself every day is a sign that he never really heard her, right? And that hurts," you explained, feeling the depth of Jinah's pain.

Joshua's brow furrowed as he processed your words. "So, it wasn't about the towel at all?"

"No, it wasn't," you replied, your voice firm. "It was about feeling unheard and unappreciated. Imagine telling someone something that's important to you over and over, and they just don't seem to care enough to listen or change. It's exhausting and hurtful."

Joshua nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I get it now. It's about respect and validation. No one wants to feel like they're talking to a wall."

"Exactly," you said, feeling a sense of relief that he understood. "That's what I'm scared of. I don't want us to ever get to that point where we stop listening to each other."

Joshua tightened his embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. "We won't. We'll make sure we always hear each other, no matter what. Communication is key, and I'll always strive to listen to you, truly listen."

His words brought a sense of calm over you. You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his commitment. "Thank you," you whispered, closing your eyes.

"Always," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Now, let's get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow, and our little one needs their rest too."

You smiled, finally finding a comfortable position. With Joshua's reassuring presence, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that together, you could handle anything. As sleep slowly overtook you, the worries about Jinah and her husband faded, replaced by a deep sense of love and security.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #densworld🌼 #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #joshua scenarios #joshua imagines #joshua x reader #joshua hong #joshua hong imagines #joshua smut #joshua fluff #hong jisoo

[brucewaynehater101]

Recently my mind has been plagued with ideas about things Tim could be other than human and what would both fit him and make an interesting story. I believe I might have found something that suits him rather well.

Tim has always been a strange child, always silent and always watching. Learning everything he can about everyone he has to interact with so that he can best make sure every interaction goes in his favor. He learned his manipulation from his Mother after all. She was the very best at it so he will be the very best too. She nor his "father" have watched over him since he was very small, after all they are creatures that do not raise their own young. Her returning to see him every few months, teaching him how to hide what he is and how to defend himself, *and* making sure he has food and shelter is far, far more than most of his species could ever even dream of. Janet is their version of Best Mom In The Universe, even if she's horrifyingly neglectful by Human Standards.

As for how Jack treats Tim, he doesn't. After all, once they were married and she had everything, she didn't need him anymore. Jack died before Tim was even conceived and the current Jack is nothing more than a husk, a living puppet that his mother walks around with as a shield to keep herself safe from prying eyes and questions. Perfect for keeping her cover as Just A Human. She has taught Tim how to do this same thing using small animals from the garden (and making sure he eats them after. He's still a growing boy who needs to eat after all) si that one day he can have a few living puppets of his own.

Tim does not tell anyone he isn't human, as per his mother's instructions. After all, he shares quite a few traits with a type of creature that humans *hate* and actively go out of their way to kill. Well, most do.

As he grows and ages as Robin, he never let's anything slip, he can't afford to let them know. He knows that Bruce doesn't trust magic in Gothem (or at least, Tim thinks that's the truth) and even if he did, the others have shown a distaste for the creature that he shares so much with. Especially Alfred and Dick, the later of which he has verbally claimed to *hate*. Given, one of them was in his hair when he yelled this but it still stung quite deeply and Alfred works hard to make sure that not a single trace of them can be found anywhere in the manor, even scolding Tim once for letting so much proof of their existence pile up in the corners of his room. But Tim doesn't blame him either, Alfred's job is to keep the house clean after all.

Eventually he must come clean though and what a way it is. Bruce has been working a case with Constantine about people going missing in Gothem. Turns out, everyone who has was some kind of magical creature and the people doing it are likely poachers. The others have been informed of the case so that they can report anything they know or anyone they know who could be a target. Tim doesn't say anything, instead keeping a closer eye on those he does know. He would never, ever sell out another creature. He would rather die.

A week later, an attempted raid on the poachers goes wrong and ends up with Jason, Tim, Bruce, and Damian all captured by the poachers. Tim is the last to wake up and when he does, the poachers are discussing what kind of undead Jason is, scanning the tied up vigilante with a device that simply says again, "subject, magical. Type, undead. Futher information, unknown."

At this point Tim realizes he's the only one not tied up. He's also the only one in a cage. He tries to pretend to be asleep but the one watching him says, "look who's awake. You know, we had bets on how many of you Bats were part of the magical community. Seems like I won the bet since only you and Red Hood over there are. Don't bother trying to lie your way out, our scanner can see through your Glamor spell, no matter how powerful it is. And this?" They hold up a small remote control with about a dozen buttons on it, "this does a wonderful little thing where it makes a specific pitch at a specific volume that causes Magical Creatures to drop their Glamor Spells or Shifts. Luckily it's nothing more than mildly annoying to humans."

A button is pressed before anyone can ask questions and the remove makes a loud, buzzing sound. It's not painful for the trio who are tied up, but Tim? Tim is shaking and writhing and *screaming* with both hands pressed over his ears. He is rolling back and forth across the ground as he screams for the person to stop, just *stop*. Bruce is almost free when he freezes upon realizing something. There aren't two tear tracks on his sons face. There's a lot. A pair of eyes have opened on his cheek bones and above his eyebrows and a smaller pair between them. Tim has gotten much paler and his canines have turned long and sharp like his nails. Tim rolls onto his stomach and curls up as best he can, screaming as there is a cracking sound. A long spindly, spider like leg shoots out of his side and slams into the floor, curling up in pain like the rest of Tim's limbs.

When the device is finally turned off, Tim is laying on his side, wheezing in pain and his legs are gone. In their place is the body of a giant spider which has sharp points at the tips of its legs instead of the regular spider feet. Tim has 8 eyes and is totally limp as he tries to recover. The Poacher simply laughs, "A Jorōgumo, a real master of puppets you are. But weak without them. God, your kind is so rare, you'll fetch us the price of at least 4 normal monsters. Add in you're a famous vigilante and we could break a few million dollars off *just* you."

Tim glares weakly at them and hisses softly. He knows the numbers are true. It's the secondary reason he never told anyone. He knew he would either get squished or sold off. How he just needs to figure out how to escape from Gothem before Bruce can confront him on this. He doesn't want to explain.

Aww... was he collecting little spiders and getting upset when his family kept expressing their hatred/distaste for them? Did he have to hear them talk about how creepy their eyes are, their weird abundance of legs, and how disgusting their overall being is before he excused himself to stare in a mirror and compare the similarities?

Does he dare to meet their eyes after the reveal, or does he fear finding the look of revulsion?

Also, would he find comfort in knitting, crochet, and weaving? Is his house full of hand-made blankets?

Anyways, enjoyed what you have and would definitely read more

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!! #dc au

[the-fiction-witch]

A Star

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1504

Y/n stood looking out the castle window towards the bay, her body was tired, her mind was tired, and the crying of baby Orion didn’t seem to be helping very much. She bounced the baby on her hip having sent the wet nurses away, even if she was starting to wonder if that was the best idea but felt it too fast to call them back. In the hope of calming baby Orion, she sang a sweet little tune that seemed to calm the crying baby. Orion was only a few days old and Y/n had become so very protective of him, not wanting the nurses, wet nurses, milkmaids, or even her husband to touch the baby but that had meant she had been awake almost the whole time since Orion’s birth.

"What are you singing?" Aegon asked, he stood by the door a cup of wine in hand after a meeting with his small council, "He likes it. The baby..."

Y/n jumped and instinctively pulled baby Orion to her chest, she stopped her song and held her breath,she looks to him in the doorway of their chambers and quickly looked to the floor, "I uh I suppose so, I'll stop if-"

He stood there for a moment, and his gaze met her. He saw the fear in her eyes, and the baby in her arms, he felt guilty that his wife feared him so, but it was not like he hadn’t given her good reason to. He slowly approached, placing a hand in Orion's soft Targaryen hair, gently caressing it trying to show her that he cared for their child and wasn’t a threat to them, "No... keep singing."

"Are you sure I don't want to bother you, your grace…"

He nodded, his eyes fixated on Orion. "It calms him. Besides... I like hearing you sing..."

She nodded and continued even if her voice was low and often tripped on her words, her eyes often meeting Aegon’s, as she bounced baby Orion a little in her arms soothing him with her song,

Aegon's gaze never left Orion, who appeared to almost fall asleep in her arms. Aegon approached even closer, standing right beside her and admiring Orion's tiny features. It seemed… since Orion’s birth it was as if the baby's presence began to change something in Aegon, Perhaps seeing his child really had affected him or perhaps he for the first time truly understood the pain and suffering he had caused for his bride. He gently touched Orion's cheek, feeling his soft skin. "You named him after the Star, didn't you...?"

she nodded "I uhh .. I can change it if you'd -"

He shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face as he gently caressed Orion's cheek. "No, it's an apt name. He's a star among us, after all. My son." Aegon's expression was different now, softer. For a moment, he didn't look like the troubled prince but rather a devoted father

"I thought it was a nice name, and Orion Targaryen sounds like a nice name for a prince"

"Yes, indeed..." Aegon agreed, still fascinated by Orion's tiny facial features. The baby's skin felt like silk under his fingers, and the innocent expression on Orion's face as he struggled to keep his eyes open mesmerized the prince. He couldn't believe this baby was his flesh and blood. "I'll hold him for a while. You go, take some rest."

She looked fearful when he took the baby, frightened of what could happen. She shook her head and clutched the baby to her chest,

“Please Y/n, you need to rest I promise you I will be careful,” he said setting down his wine taking her cheek in his hand and pressing his forehead to hers, “Trust me, as a king, as a husband, as his father…”

Part of her didn't completely trust Aegon. But she nodded and slowly handed baby Orion over, the moment the baby left her arms she began to pick at her nails and breathe deeply her lips trembling,

Aegon carefully cradled Orion in his arms, his large but surprisingly gentle hands holding the baby securely. He rocked Orion gently and spoke softly. “Hello little prince, feels like forever since I held you last,” He cooed, The baby seemed to almost immediately settle and relax against Aegon's chest. Aegon looked as if he would hold Orion all night this way, staring intently at his own son with a mix of pride and love in his eyes. "Are you alright?" he suddenly asked her, not taking his eyes off the baby.

"I ... I don't know"

Aegon placed Orion into his crib and then pulled her down and sat beside her by the fire. He could see the worry and fear on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked in a soft tone, gently grasping her hand in his. He seemed genuinely worried about her well-being rather than angry.

"I feel rather ... Useless now," she said "we married. I gave you a son. I suddenly feel in danger. Like I could be ... Washed out with the tide,"

Aegon understands her concerns. He gently squeezed her hand. "You are not useless. You have given me a gift beyond measure. A son. That is something no one can take from you. You are the mother of my child, the mother of a prince." He gently lifted her chin, making her look into his eyes. "You are my wife, and I won."

"won?"

Aegon nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "I won you. From the very first day I met you, all I thought was how I can win you. The girl who seemed so indifferent and reserved, it drove me mad that I could not win you easily." He brushed his fingers gently across her cheek and continued. "But I won. You bear my child, my heir. You are bonded to me forever now."

"I suppose that's true... I'm sure soon you will be wanting your spare?"

Aegon smirked slightly, then gently brushed his hand over the top of her head, caressing her hair. "Yes… but that's something we'll talk about soon." He then sighed slightly as he looked into her eyes. "But for now, I think you need to rest. You're still recovering from childbirth. You went through a lot."

"I suppose I did ..." She said trying to belittle her own work

Aegon shook his head, "No. Don't you dare downplay what you went through? Bringing a new life into the world is no small task. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain you experienced, but I know it's nothing to look down upon." He looked at her with genuine admiration and concern. "I want you to take care of yourself. Rest, eat properly, and heal. You deserve it."

"as you command your grace" she nodded

He gently took her hand again and lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her hand. "Good. Now, rest well." He placed her hand gently back on her lap and stood up, walking to Orion's crib and smiling down at the sleeping baby. "And don't worry about Orion. I'll care for him and let you rest peacefully."

she nodded and got up nervously heading towards the bed chamber but she stopped and turned back, "don't let him sleep on his stomach, your grace"

Aegon raised his eyebrow and turned towards her. "Oh? Is there a specific reason?" He knew next to nothing about infants, but he was willing to listen carefully to her advice.

"he can smother himself in his pillow"

Aegon blinked, surprised by the explanation. "Ah! I hadn't thought of that. Thank you for the advice." He moved closer to the crib and gently adjusted Orion, rolling him onto his side rather than his stomach. He then turned back to her and smiled gently. "Is this better?"

"yes, think of babies as ... Little drunk people, anything you'd be worried about when leaving a drunk friend worry about a baby doing," she nodded "Wake me at the hour of the wolf, he will need to feed then"

Aegon raised an eyebrow upon hearing the analogy. "Little drunk people? Interesting way to put it. Reminds me of myself in a way." He then nodded and gave her a reassuring look. "I'll wake you as promised. We'll take care of him and keep him safe." Aegon returned to her side, leaning down to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Now sleep. You've earned it."

she nodded and went into the bedroom keeping the door open in case the baby was to cry and not expecting Aegon to deal with it,

Aegon watched as she went into the bedroom, his gaze lingering on the door for a moment, once he knew Y/n was sleeping he went over and closed the door quietly so he could get a good sleep before turning his attention back to Orion. He gently brushed his fingers against the baby's soft cheek one more time and whispered softly. "Sleep well, my son." With that, he settled into his chair nearby, ready to watch over the baby until the hour of the wolf came.

#hotd smut #hotd fanfiction #hotd fandom #hotd fanfic #hotd #hotd aegon #hotd imagine #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon #aegon smut #aegon ii targaryen #king aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon the second #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #house targaryen #house of targaryen #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon aegon #aegon fanfic #Aegon imagine #house of the dragon aegon targaryen

[bbyobbyo]

Remembering all your boyfriend's drunk habits? That's the easy part. But taking care of him? Well, he makes that part easy too.

content: fluff, established relationship, drunk!(and then hungover!)chan, mentions of food, so much domesticity, they're literally so in love with each other it's disgusting

wc: 1.2k

note: still trying to figure out my writing style and doing some experimenting with povs and such 😭 this one was a horribly self indulgent one tho...food is my love language and when it was revealed that dino only eats ramen when hes hungover i couldnt help myself lol. i really just take any tidbit of info these men divulge and run with it into delululand huh. anyways please enjoy and as always comments and feedback are appreciated 🥺

You knew Chan liked to drink. It wasn't an actual problem, but it happened often enough that you had come to expect him to come back to your shared apartment after a night out stumbling and slurring his words.

Not that your boyfriend was the dark brooding serious type, but you find the change from his usually composed and witty self to someone who could erupt into a mess of giggles and burst into song and obnoxious yelling at any moment quite jarring. But you couldn't say you hated it either.

No, drunk Chan was different. Drunk Chan was straightforward, every single emotion flashing onto his face like a billboard. The Chan that normally would throw a quip back when teased would suddenly turn into a whiny child with a yapping problem.

Your sober Chan was careful, he was always fearful of letting you know if there was anything bothering him (much to your dismay). Even when he hits a breaking point, you would never catch it on his mannerisms. Instead he opted to deal with his emotions himself, or occasionally in the form of a passive aggressive text laced with smiley faces to whoever scorned him.

Where sober Chan could be quite shy with his affections toward you in public, drunk Chan would cling to your body like a koala to a tree, protesting anytime you wanted to brush him off for some air.

But you loved him, drunk or sober. You loved that he could let loose sometimes and truly let his inner self be free, knowing that he was in good company and that he would be accepted no matter what, inside and out. And you took it upon yourself to take care of him in all his states.

And that's how you ended up at 1am with a grown man leaning on your shoulder as you help him take his shoes off in the doorway of his own damn apartment.

"Buuuut baaabe...!" He whined into your ear as he manages to fling off the remaining shoe from his foot. "I wanna eat chicken nuggiessss."

Your smile spread uncontrollably across your face and you maneuver around him to take off his jacket next. "I would make you chicken nuggies, but it's 1am and you hate eating late at night."

There's silence for a moment as your intoxicated boyfriend seems to ponder your words. You take advantage of his stillness to slip the jacket off his sleeves and guide him to the bedroom.

You gently shush him with your finger, "If I'm always right, then you'll listen to me when I tell you to go get washed up right, big guy?" You take the opportunity to give him a small peck on his pouty lips as you throw a fresh pair of boxers onto his lap. He only smiles in response and begins his lazy waddle to the bathroom only to emerge minutes later, crawling into the sheets and enveloping your body with his own and knocking out.

"Oh no, you're right," he finally responds as he plops onto your bed, his lips pressed into a pout you can only describe as cute. "What would I do without you babe? You're always right, you know me better than I do sometimes and I really love that about you and ya'kno..."

-

To no one's surprise, you wake up before Chan. The intensity of the light that filters through your bedroom window tells you it's already quite late in the morning. But that's alright, you cleared your schedule for one thing and for one thing only.

You take a moment to soak in his soft features, bathing in the sunlight that leaks through the curtains. Everything from the curve of his eyelashes to his sharp jawline is perfect, just as the day you saw him. You don't get to see him like this often, as he's always been a busybody for as long as you knew him, but you think that this might be one of your favorite views in the world.

You scoot out of the bed as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the soft rise and falls of your boyfriend's bare chest as he slumbers, but not before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. His nose scrunches up momentarily before settling again as you laugh, leaving for the kitchen satisfied that the love of your life was getting the rest he deserved. Your morning routine goes smoothly and soon enough you hear the sound of sheets shuffling, signaling the real start to your day.

You're by his side in a record amount of time, sitting on the edge of your shared bed while sliding a glass of water and a painkiller onto his nightstand. Amongst a tangle of sheets, your boyfriend lays still, eyes not quite open yet. "Good morning, handsome" you whisper softly, seeing how a smile immediately spreads across his face.

"My head is actually killing me. Sorry if I'm a zombie today, I just wanna eat some r-"

"Ramen?" you finish for him. There's nothing but love and adoration behind your eyes as you softly comb through his messy bedhead with your fingers. "I know baby, I already have some water boiling on the stove. Drink the water and take the painkillers, it'll be ready by the time you come out."

"God, have I told you I love you? Because I don't do it nearly enough." He groans out in his raspy morning voice. You just laugh and press a swift kiss to his forehead, doing good on your promise as you walk back out to the kitchen.

Before long, you hear the heavy footsteps of a sleepy man make its way into the room. They stop right as they approach you and you feel strong arms wrap around your waist as you add the finishing garnishes to the bowl of noodles you just made. "Smells so nice" Chan murmurs, face buried in the crook of your neck.

"What, me or the ramen?" you tease back, gently shaking him off of you as you place the bowl on the table. "Or... these?" You pull the handle of the air fryer sitting next to the stove to reveal several golden brown dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.

The scene before you is as mundane as can be: a Saturday morning spent with your extremely hungover boyfriend barely awake in nothing but his boxers slurping instant noodles on the kitchen counter.

Chan's eyes light up. "Oh my god, you remembered?!" A toothy smile permanently stuck on his face as you plated the nuggets to join his bowl of ramen. "Of course, how could I forget my boyfriend whining for nuggieesssss last night?" He fakes an offended scoff but relents as he finally digs in.

But to you it's anything but mundane, cherishing these little moments that seem few and far between as both of your schedules get busier and busier.

It's not the first time you've heard him say this exact sentence, and it probably won't be the last. But one thing you knew for certain as you stare into the most loving eyes you've ever seen is that you were always the lucky one.

"How did I get this lucky to have you in my life?" he suddenly remarks in between mouthfuls.

#seventeen x reader #dino x reader #lee chan x reader #seventeen imagines #dino fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff

[annwrites]

please, god, please, take him instead.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: you wake up with a cold, & once the two of you have reached vegas, for the next three days, billy prays to god that you don't slip away from him as he nurses you back to health.

— tags: ANGST, billy being a worrisome wreck, billy playing nurse to you, billy crying

— tw: medicine

— word count: 5,536

— a/n: find my other posts concerning billy here

When you wake the next morning, it's with a slight cough and the occasional sneeze. At first, you don't think much of it. Perhaps it was just the desert sand irritating your sinuses. Maybe it was the arid air. Maybe it was nothing.

You lean your head against the passenger side door frame, shutting your eyes.

You'd only been on the road for a little over two hours. Billy had suggested that morning—since you'd brought it up previously in Oklahoma—maybe the two of you make another little detour and check out Vegas for a few days, or a week. You'd agreed easily, excited to see it yourself. Excited to see it with him. Until you began to feel worse.

You were halfway there now, but another two hours seemed like a lifetime. All you wanted was a hot bath and a soft bed to lie down in. You wanted desperately to sleep. But the rumble of the engine, the music, the wind blowing through the open windows—your head felt like it was ready to split open.

You, with heavy arms, pull your hair into a ponytail, desperate to cool down. God, this heat was unbearable. Maybe going so far West had been a bad idea if you were this sensitive to the temperate climate.

Too late now, however.

Billy glances to you, frowning at your flushed complexion, your hooded lids. "You alright, baby?"

You blink tired eyes. "I don't feel good."

"You need me to hit the next rest-stop? I think one is comin' up in about five miles."

You close your eyes. "I don't need to go. I just feel so hot."

He doesn't bother making a joke, doesn't smirk or raise a brow. He reaches over, placing his palm against your forehead. A muscle in his jaw feathers in worry then. "You're burnin' up," he says, placing his hand back against the shifter. "You seemed fine last night."

You shrug lightly. "Maybe it's just a bug I caught." You yawn.

He glances over his shoulder. "Lay down in the backseat and get some rest. We'll be there in a couple hours."

You open your eyes. Crawling back there sounds like the equivalent to climbing Mount Everest to you right now, but staying seated the way you were didn't sound all that appealing, either. You unbuckle, climbing between the seats, curling up with the same pillow from that first night in his car. The smell of him comforts you.

How long you had both come. And not just literally.

He throws over his shoulder, "Let me know if you need me to stop for any reason. Alright, angel?"

You nod, head already feeling light as you drift off. "Alright."

"Wake up, darlin', we're here."

You slowly blink your eyes open, squinting against the light of day.

Billy kneels down, brushing some hair out of your face, his form blocking you from seeing outside of the car. He presses his palm to your sweaty forehead. "You're still runnin' a fever."

Your eyes flutter closed again. "So tired."

"I know, sweetheart. Our room is only a few feet away. I already took all our things inside. Once you get in there, you can go back to sleep. C'mon," he encourages.

You groan, sitting up, head swimming. You press the heels of your palms to your eyes, the world spinning. "Oh God."

He slides his hand up your leg. "What's wrong?"

"Dizzy."

He doesn't like the sound of that. You'd had breakfast, but that was hours ago. It was just because you were hungry. That was all. As soon as he got you inside, he'd run out and get you something to eat. And then you'd be fine.

You'd be just fine.

He slides his arms under you, picking you up, shutting the door with his hip.

You lay your head against his shoulder, shutting your eyes, brows furrowed.

He carries you into the room, gently lying you down on the bed and he begins tugging off your shoes. "You want me to help you undress?"

You look at him, his serious expression, surprised he's not using the questions as a come-on. You nod lightly.

He pulls off your tanktop, folding it, then he begins to tug off your jean shorts, and folds them as well, placing both on the bedside table.

You shiver then. "Why is the AC on so high?" You whimper, trying to get beneath the covers.

He glances to it, then walks over, checking the thermostat. It was at a comfortable enough temperature to him. A little warm, even. He turns back to you and watches as you wrap a comforter around yourself. He leans down, pushing hair away from your forehead, pressing his lips to it―he remembers his mom doing the same when he was little and sick―and when he pulls away the blood drains from his face.

"Baby doll, you're on fire, how do you feel cold?"

You just shiver in response. "C-can you turn the heat on?"

"Sweetheart-"

"T-then, can you hold m-me? You're really warm."

He glances to the door, then back to you. "You haven't eaten since this morning. Aren't you hungry, honey?"

You shake your head. "My stomach hurts."

He chews the inside of his cheek. You're most certainly sick, and a cheeseburger isn't going to do it. He needs to run to a pharmacy and see what they have that he can give you, which lines up with your symptoms.

He kneels down, running his hand along the comforter, gently gripping your hip. "I need to go pick you up some medicine, baby. Will you be okay here on your own?"

You nod, still shivering. "C-can you put another b-blanket on me if there's one?"

He walks over to the closet and finds one, even if it's rather thin. He fans it out, draping it over you. He then grabs his leather jacket, putting it overtop of it.

He turns the AC down even further, knowing he's going to sweat through his fucking clothes when he gets back.

He presses a firm kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back in just a little bit. Alright, angel?"

You nod. "O-okay. I'll wait h-here."

He kisses you one last time, hating to fucking leave you like this for even a second. "I love you," he whispers, standing, grabbing his keys and heading out.

As Billy stands in the cold medicine aisle of a local pharmacy, he silently curses to himself at the plethora of options. He picks up a bottle of Robitussin in one hand, and a bottle of NyQuil in the other, and then he spots another bottle of Motrin just to the right.

"Why are there so many fuckin' cough syrups? Jesus." He mutters to himself.

He decides on the two bottles he's currently holding, and also picks up a thermometer, and an ice pack for your head. He has to get that damn fever down. And if the medicine doesn't do it—if it only gets worse—you won't like what he'll be forced to do next.

As he drives back to the motel, he searches his mind for what could've possibly brought this on. Traveling alone would do it. You'd been in how many motel rooms and diners and tourist attractions now? And then he thinks of you on the hood of his car, your naked body soaked from the pouring rain.

He hangs his head for a moment. "Fuck," he mutters. He looks back up to the road. He should've shoved you back in the car the second that storm hit. Should've at least put you in a hot shower when the two of you got back to your room. This was his fault.

All so he could get his rocks off. And you hadn't even finished.

Selfish.

When Billy comes back into the room, you're fast asleep. He wants to take you resting as a good sign. They always say that, don't they, when someone is sick? To drink plenty of fluids and get lots of rest?

He sets the plastic shopping bag down on the bed, then grabs the ice bucket, heading back out to fill it.

When you wake, it's nearly dark out. The entire day gone.

You quickly realize that you're pressed up against Billy's bare chest, his warmth covering you. God, he felt so nice and warm.

You press your palms to him, closing your eyes again.

You feel him stir.

"You awake, sweetheart?"

"Barely," you mumble.

You feel his body shift, like he's reaching for something beside the bed and then he speaks. "Open. I need to take your temperature."

You do and he slips the cool metal tip of the thermometer under your tongue.

A moment later, he removes it and you hear him curse, then setting it back on the bedside table.

"Is it bad?" You ask, snuggling closer to him, wrapping one of your legs around his, trying to soak up as much of his body heat as you can.

"It's one-oh-one point six. That's not good. You definitely have a fever, which I already knew." He gets out of bed then and you nearly cry from the loss of warmth, wrapping yourself in blankets again.

You hear a plastic bag crinkling and after a moment he returns to you. "Sit up for me, darlin'. I need you to take this."

You pop one eye open, eyeing up the tiny cup held between his fingers. "What is it?"

"Something to hopefully help break that fever. C'mon now."

Slowly, you sit up, clutching blankets to your chest with one hand, taking the cup from him with your other. You sniff, then look up at him.

"It's not a shot, it's Robitussin. Just take it, Jesus. Please."

You throw it back, your nose wrinkling at the taste as you hand it back to him.

He hands you a cup of ice water then and you down it quickly.

He walks across the room, then returns with anther cup full.

You down it as well.

He smirks. "Want me to just bring you the whole damn ice bucket?"

You just lie back down then. "Can you hold me again?"

"You want to shower first? You're burning so damn hot you're about to give me a fever next."

"Not really."

"How about a bat-"

"Please, Billy."

He sighs. "Alright."

When you wake in the middle of the night, you're drenched in sweat, but somehow still freezing. Had he not turned the AC down? You also have to pee something awful. When you get up to go, however, the room spins and you hit the floor.

Billy wakes with a jolt and when he realizes his arms are empty, he panics. "Baby, where are you?"

"Down here," you call from the floor.

He quickly throws back the covers, coming to you. He kneels down. "Act like you've never walked around in the dark before," he says with a smirk. "If you need help finding your way around a bedroom-"

"I fell. The room won't stop spinning."

His smile quickly drops.

"I need to go."

He nods, even if you can't see it, and he picks you up, carrying you into the bathroom.

Once he's set you on the toilet, he steps out for a moment to give you some privacy, leaving the door cracked.

Once you start to go, it takes a few seconds.

He leans his head back against the wall. "Sounds like a damn fire hose in there."

You barely roll your eyes at the sarcastic comment.

"You're drinking more water once you're done, just so you know."

"Great," you reply flatly.

Once you've wiped, you stand, flushing and then it hits you. You double over the toilet, vomiting.

He rushes into the bathroom, quickly pulling back your hair with one hand, rubbing your bare back with his other.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. Just let it out. You'll feel better." He hopes.

Once you have nothing left to expel and you stop dry-heaving, you lower the toilet lid, flushing yet again, lying your sweaty flushed cheek atop the lid and you close your eyes. "I think I'm dying," you say quietly.

"Don't fucking joke about that," he states defensively.

You slowly open your eyes, looking up at him, his expression utterly serious.

He picks you back up. "Back to bed, young lady."

After making you drink not one, not two, but three cups of ice water—even putting an ice pack on your feverish forehead, which had caused you to shake violently—he'd given you another cup of Robitussin, then laid back down with you.

He'd chewed you out when you'd tried taking the icepack off, so you'd left it be after that. You'd stuck your cold hands down his briefs as payback, though.

In the morning, you feel worse.

You'd dry-heaved a few more times during the night—enough times that Billy had eventually placed a trash can on your side of the bed—and had sweated straight through the sheets. Billy had given you a few more doses of the Robitussin, but it seemed like nothing was helping.

"Open."

You do and wait for the thermometer to read your new temperature. It had gradually climbed little by little overnight.

When he removes it, his brows furrow and you could swear his eyes even get a little glassy at the reading.

You stare up at him.

"It's over a hundred and three now," he states, voice full of worry.

He glances to the bathroom, then back to you.

"Can I go back to sleep now?"

He puts his hands on his hips, considering, thinking. And then he shakes his head. "I...I can't afford to take you to the hospital, sweetheart. So we're going to try something else." He steps closer to you. "You're not going to like it."

You thought you had felt cold before, but you had been deeply wrong. Your body shakes violently in the tub as ice-cold water pours down on you from above. You wrap your arms more tightly around your knees, pulling them impossibly closer to your chest.

"P-p-please stop. I'm s-so c-c-cold."

Billy fights against the tears gathering in his eyes. "I know, baby. But I have got to get this fever down. This is the only way."

He turns the water on higher, unable to do anything more to help you as he watches—completely helpless—as freezing water pounds down against your trembling, naked skin.

All he can think is: is he doing the right thing? Is he really helping you? What if he's only making it worse? Making you more sick? Maybe a trip to the ER was what you needed. What if...he let it go for too long and...you didn't wake up again? He shakes his head. No. Anything but that. He cannot fucking think like that.

You were going to be just fine.

You had to be.

If you died, he'd fucking kill you. He can't fathom a life—no, a world—where you no longer existed by his side.

Once Billy has dried you off, you cling to his broad frame, trying to warm yourself.

He swallows down the lump in his throat at the icey feel of your skin.

"C'mon, angel, let's get you back into bed."

You like the sound of that immensely.

Once you're beneath the sheets, Billy gives you a dose of NyQuil next, wondering if mixing cough syrups is a good idea, but clearly the Robitussin was doing jack-shit for you.

He crawls in next to you again, lending you his body heat and you quickly bury yourself in his side, whimpering as you try to get warm again.

He presses his lips to your forehead. Still hot. "I'm going to let you sleep for a couple hours and then I'm taking your temp again."

"Just don't make me go back in there, please." You beg.

And it breaks his heart.

"I'll do whatever is best for you. We have to break your fever, sweetheart."

You moan, pressing your face against his chest.

You're half-asleep when Billy puts the thermometer in your mouth again. When he removes it, you don't see his reaction to the reading.

Not the tears streaming down his cheeks, not the way he throws it across the room, not his burying his face in his hands as he becomes a nervous wreck, worrying that he's slowly killing you.

The only thing he has left in all the world. His girl, his sweetheart, his lover. His fucking heart.

If he loses you... He prays to God—genuinely—that if this is some sort of sick punishment: please, God, please, take him instead.

Billy gently rocks you in his arms, thinking you're asleep as he quietly cries. "Please, baby, don't leave me. I'm waiting for you. Please. We're so close. We're almost there. I can't-" He sniffles. "I told you before that I can't do it without you.

"Without...without you, all of it means nothing. It'll have all been for nothing. It was for you. All this shit." He begins to cry harder then. "Stay with me."

The next morning when you wake, you're not drenched in sweat for once. And, while you feel like you've been hit by a freight train, you don't feel like you're freezing. Nor is your body burning up.

Billy had eventually exhausted himself from crying and worrying and overthinking that he'd passed out at some point in the night, holding you, telling you over and over and over again—more times than he could ever hope to count—that he loved you.

Your arm feels heavy, your movements a bit uncertain, but you reach up to his face, cupping his cheek as you rest your head on his chest. "Billy?"

His eyes immediately open and he shifts so that he's hovering over you. "You're awake," he says, almost like he's surprised by the fact.

Before you can reply, he presses his lips to your forehead. And then he stares down at you with wide eyes. "I think your fever finally broke."

He gets out of bed, heading across the room, hands on his hips as he surveys the floor. "Where the fuck did I put it? Jesus, why did I have to do that? Ha!"

He bends over, grabbing the thermometer, then coming back over and wiping it off before popping it in your mouth.

And when he removes it, he actually cries tears of joy. He crushes his lips to yours, not caring one bit if he gets sick himself. "It's over, angel. Your fever broke. You're okay. Everything is okay now."

After quickly showering—even if he'd been terrified to leave you alone for a moment, but you'd had him sweating for two nights now, and not in a good way—Billy returns to the bedroom to you napping.

Whatever you'd caught had taken it out of you.

He sits down on the side of the bed, turning to you. "You awake, honey?"

You groan lightly. "Wanna sleep."

"I know, but you haven't eaten in going on three days now. We need to get something into your system; build your strength back up."

"Later," you reply, burying your face in a pillow.

He sighs. "Once you've eaten something, then you can go back to sleep. Maybe once I've given you a bath, too."

You don't reply.

He walks over to the entertainment center, picking up menus for local takeout from atop the box TV. "What sounds good to you?" He asks, flipping through the laminated papers.

"Sleep."

He smirks. "That's not on the menu."

He comes back over to the bed, sitting. "You want to pick something, or do you want me to order for you?"

"Don't care."

He briefly considers threatening you with habanero hot wings if you don't pick something on your own, but bites his tongue. "You want something easy on your stomach, like soup?"

"I'm not really hungry," you say, finally looking up at him, dark circles under your glassy eyes.

He leans down, gently tucking some hair behind your ear. "I know, honey, but you'll realize that you are when you finally eat something. Please."

You're quiet for a moment, lying your palm overtop the back of his hand. Then, "Soup is fine."

Once dinner has been delivered—Billy ordering some ribs for himself from a place which serves American comfort food—he opens a large container of chicken noodle soup and hands it to you, along with a spoon. And when you go to serve some to yourself, you nearly spill it.

You look up to him sheepishly. "Woops."

He smirks, shaking his head. "Need me to spoon-feed you?" He asks with a raised brow.

The idea seems humiliating, but your hands were so shaky and your arms felt so weak that you worried about ruining the bed, if not burning yourself.

You don't get a chance to answer before he comes back over to your bedside. “Scoot forward a little.”

You do and he slides in behind you, pulling you back to him, your head resting in the crook beteween his chest and armpit. He puts his left arm around your waist, holding the soup, while his right holds the spoon, feeding you.

“Here comes the plane,” he says in a sing-song voice, holding it in front of your face.

You roll your eyes, but open, swallowing. It’s a tad bit salty, but good.

After a few spoonfuls, you realize he was right: you’d been starving and hadn’t even noticed.

Once the bowl is halfway empty, you speak. “Thank you. For everything. No one has ever taken care of me like this. If you weren’t here, I…”

You trail off, laying your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him. 

He kisses your forehead for a moment. “Wouldn’t have gotten sick in the first place if it weren’t for me.”

Your brows furrow. “How so?”

He holds the spoon in front of your lips. “Remember what we did on the hood of my Camaro? During a downpour?”

You flush, then take another sip.

Once you’ve finished your soup, you’re still quite hungry. “Is there more?”

Billy looks down at you for a moment, then nods. “Yeah, there’s more.” He gets up, padding across the room, retrieving a styrofoam container and handing it to you when he comes back over.

When you open it, your mouth begins to water. You look up at him before you take a single bite, however. “Is…was this for you?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not hungry right now. I got it for you. Figured just soup wouldn’t be enough.”

You stare at him for a moment, feeling like he’s lying. “I’ve never eaten ribs in front of you before.” Meaning he’d have no way of knowing they were a dish you enjoyed.

He shrugs, getting back on the bed. “You’ve had barbecue with me before. Remember the sandwich of mine that I let you try at that one joint before we got into that big fight… The one where you left?”

One of the worst nights of his life was spent in his car searching desperately for you all over a small Oklahoma town. He’d never forget the terror of thinking he’d lost you for good. Never forget the hole he’d felt in his chest at the thought of never seeing you again. At the thought of never getting to one day tell you how he felt. Feels.

You hum your response. “I remember now.” You don’t want to dwell on it. You know he’s ready to beat himself black and blue over it if that will please you. 

You pick up a slab of ribs, tearing the meat apart, then taking a bite. You look up to Billy, sauce all over your face. “Want some?”

He smirks. “Think you’re going to need a bath after this.” He takes it from you, finishing the piece off.

Once you and Billy have filled yourselves, he leaves you in bed watching TV as he goes to run you a bath.

He takes a moment in the bathroom to break down a little. To cry. From relief.

He’d been so afraid… If your fever had climbed any higher, he was taking you to the ER. He wouldn’t have given a shit about money at that point. But once they had your names in their system… What if someone realized? Found out? What if it triggered something, and the cops came to drag the two of you back? He’d make up whatever story he had to to protect you then. 

He’d always been an asshole to you at school, but had clearly shown a bit of carnal interest. So he’d take the brunt of it. Would tell them some ridiculous kidnapping tale. Even if he knew you wouldn’t go along with it for a second. Not now. Not after falling in love with him.

He still couldn’t believe that you did: love him. He wasn’t worthy of it, but he was selfish enough to keep you to himself if that’s where you wanted to be. He couldn’t handle it again: you trying to leave. It’d nearly broke him the last time.

Nearly losing you like this, though… When the two of you had only just begun… He shakes his head. He’d done the right thing, and you were better now. Were going to continue getting better—recovering. 

What had you once told him? You weren’t his responsibility? He thinks since that first night he’d made you as much. You were his purpose now. His priority. His to take care of. Provide for. And unlike his step-sister, which he’d had shoved onto his plate, he wanted to be that for you. That’s what a man did when he loved a woman. He protected her. Made sure she was well looked after. She came first. Period.

He shuts the water off, the tub nearly filled to the brim, steam wafting into the air, and he steps back into the bedroom. “Bath’s ready.”

Billy had insisted on bathing you himself, and after much bugging, you’d caved. He thankfully hadn’t gotten soap in your eyes this time. He’d taken a bit of extra time scrubbing down your breasts and between your legs, though, his lip twitching while doing so, but you’d said nothing of it.

It honestly just felt good to be catered to. Maybe even babied a little. All of that had stopped for you the moment your mom went out the door.

Then you think back to your dad. To the other students at school. It was so…insane, really, to think about. The two of you had really run away together in the middle of the night to go cross-country.

A small smirk works its way onto your lips. If someone had told you even just a month ago where you would be right now: here, with him, naked, in love, going to California in his car…you would’ve laughed in their face.

Billy is currently sitting on the floor, facing you, back leaned against the wall behind him, arm resting on the edge of the tub. His lip twitches when he sees you smiling to yourself.

“What’re you smiling about?”

You glance up to him, covering yourself with what little bubbles are left in the water. “Nothing.”

He leans forward, slipping his hand under the water’s surface. “Want me to climb in there with you?”

You lean back. “I don’t think this tub is big enough for two.”

 He slips his hand between your thighs, his arm submerged up to the pit. “Oh, I’ll fit. Or, at least something will.”

You close your eyes, placing a wet cloth over them. “I don’t have the strength for that right now.”

He shrugs. “I have no problem doing all the work.”

You fight a losing battle against a smile breaking out across your face. “Can you stop?”

You’re both quiet for a moment, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your thigh, water gently lapping against the tub’s edge. 

You finally tell him what was on your mind. “I was just thinking—wondering, rather—what people back in Hawkins must have thought about the two of us disappearing at the same time. The theories they came up with.”

Billy grips your leg then, possessively. “I’m sure your pretty boy Harrington is worried sick.”

You remove the cloth, gently splashing him with a few drops of water. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

He leans back, crossing his arms. “Not if I can help it. Incase you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the jealous type.”

Your brows furrow. “Really? Who would’ve ever guessed?” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Was half-tempted to get my knuckles bloody for you back then, too. Just from him asking you out alone. And right in front of me, at that.” A beat of silence, then, “I drove by there that night, y’know?”

“Hm?”

“That ice-cream place. Twisted something-or-other. Saw you and Steve acting all buddy-buddy. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so fuckin’ pissed. And then I had to go pick up Angie for our date after and…” He trails off. Was he really about to tell you about how you had been the cause of his dick not working properly that night?

“And what? You already tried rubbing in my face what the two of you did.”

He glances up to you. “Yeah, well, it almost didn’t happen.”

You’re taken aback by that. “Oh?”

“Once we were in the backseat…” He leans back, sighing, head lightly bouncing off the wall behind him. “I could barely get it up, alright? All I could fucking think about was you doing the same damn thing with him in the backseat of his piece of shit BMW. And then it just got worse. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up, I’m trying to get my shit to work, and then I thought about Monday. What if you came in holding his hand all starry-eyed and in love with him? What if… What if that was it? You were his, and I’d lost, and I was right back to square fucking one again. So, I finally flipped her on her stomach, pretended it was you, and laid some pipe. End of story.”

You sit there dumbfounded. You’d meant that much to him even back then? Enough that he—Billy Hargrove—had struggled to get an erection? All because she hadn’t been you? While you did feel somewhat bad for Angie, you also wonder what could’ve possibly been going through her head to think giving it up to him on the first date was a good idea.

“You could’ve had me, Billy. Sooner, that is. If you’d treated me differently. Been, I don’t know, nicer? More of a gentleman?”

He smirks, laying his arm back against the edge of the tub. “Because I’m such a pro at that.” He’s silent for a moment, then, since he can’t not dwell on something, “Why weren’t you into him, anyway?”

You sigh. You were going to be hearing about this at every opportunity for the forseeable future, you could tell as much now. “I just didn’t find him physically attractive, for whatever reason. Does it matter?”

He smirks. “Not your type, huh? Guess I’m the real winner here after all. So, what was it about me, then? My car? My rebel attitude? My devilishly good looks,” he says, leaning in for a kiss.

You lean toward him as well, resting one of your hands over his heart. “No, Billy. It had far less to do with all that superficiality and more to do with you.” You curl your fingers inward

He stops moving, brows furrowing.

You continue. “You don’t think you’re good enough. Don’t think you’re capable of kindness. But, look at everything you’ve done for me since that first night on the side of the road. Taking care of me, paying my way here, looking after me. Just recently nursing me back to health. I…I don’t want to think about where I’d be if you hadn’t been on that same stretch of road at the same time that I was.” You look down, twining your fingers between his. “I think you were meant to find me... That we were meant to find each other.”

He cups your cheek in his hand then, eyes now a bit red. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t remind you about another night where he���d found you on another stretch of road trying to then get away from him. Or yet another late-night bit of asphalt where he’d told you that you were his, after he’d spent an entire day committing actions which said otherwise. 

Your eyes meet his. “Everyone has their own love language. I think yours is acts of service. You’re a care-taker and you don’t even know it. You’re more selfless than you realize.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. I wouldn’t have done all of this for anyone else.” He leans in toward you even further. “Anyone.” He cups the back of your head of wet hair and presses his lips to yours.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader) #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you