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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months

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Tangerine x single mom!reader

Summary: When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: protective!tangerine, mentions of coercion and kidnapping, cursing, crying

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt hi lovie!! here it is! hope you like it xx ~

April, your almost one-year-old, is currently tucked in your arms as you try to console her.

She won't calm down and you've been assuming the train's lights are too shiny for her small eyes since she's been inconsolable for the last hour. "Honey, shh," you try again, caressing her round cheeks.

"Hello." Your thoughts are interrupted by a calm voice as a young girl sits in front of you. Her short brown hair is cut neatly into a bob and she's wearing a pink shirt and skirt. She looks well-groomed. "Your baby is adorable," she comments, glancing at April.

"Thank you," you say, smiling as you bounce April on your lap now—the movement calming her a little as her cries turn into small breathy babbling sounds.

After a moment, the girl continues. "I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but have you seen a silver case somewhere around here? My Uncle seems to have misplaced it," the girl's smile falters as if looking for sympathy, "It's very important to me," she finishes, her eyebrows creasing as her lips downturn into a pout.

You shake your head.

She urges you, "Could you perhaps help me look then?" She leans in closer as she runs her hand under April's chin, her demeanor more insistent now.

Your smile falters and you turn April away, your hand on her back, as your motherly instincts kick in. Something is wrong. "I'm so sorry. I would help only," you begin, holding April closer.

Your answer is interrupted as the girl scowls, "I'll pay you," she says.

Pay you? Your mind races as you wonder why this girl would pay you for your help. What's in this case that warrants such attention? Once you shake your head again, the girl's calm energy vanishes.

"Well, this is a shame, hmm?" her tone suddenly shifts and she smiles cruelly as she crosses her legs. The table that's separating you and her comes in handy as it hides the weapon she produces and presses against your knee.

She angles the gun upwards and you tense your arms around April, holding her even closer. April squirms, sensing your worry.

"Please," you whisper, looking around the train. None of the other passengers seem preoccupied by your predicament. They aren't even looking in your direction.

You want to scream, but you have a feeling if you do so, this girl wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "Please don't hurt my baby," you say, fear settling inside you.

The girl tilts her head and chuckles. She taps the gun on your knee, making you flinch. "Hmm, you see, you're just the girl for this. Men underestimate girls like us—

They'll never see you coming—a vulnerable little thing like you, with something so precious to lose—you would do anything for your baby, would you?" She smiles at April.

"Please," you sound like a broken record, "what do you want from me?"

"Is your baby's daddy around?"

You want to lie but you're too scared so you shake your head.

"Pff, men—bastards, hmm?" The girl laughs and then she turns serious. "Now listen closely, if you don't want me to blow you and your baby to bits, you'll do exactly as I say," she pauses and her smirk turns sinister,

"Understand?"

* * *

You feel like you're in a trance as your shaky hands hold the gun behind you. You walk into the train car, looking for the men the girl had insisted took her case from her.

You feel a little exposed as the buttons from your chemise have been slightly unbuttoned to reveal your bra and the girl had made you let down your hair.

Go for the sex appeal and you'll have men at your feet, she'd promised.

However, you don't care how stupid you look. All you care about is April. April, who the girl has promised you she wouldn't harm if you did as you were told. April, who had started to scream again when you'd placed her in the seat next to the cruel stranger and who had continued to cry as you disappeared from her view.

Your poor baby.

You try not to cry now. You don't want your mascara to run and ruin your cover. You hold your head up, glancing at all the passengers as you walk by.

Twins. You were looking for Twins—that should be easy enough.

You walk slower, only catching fragments of conversations, until suddenly you walk by two men.

One is adjusting his stripped blue vest, his brown hair messy and his face smeared in bruises and blood.

The other, who looks nothing like the first, is holding onto a silver case. Your breath hitches when you hear the man exclaim, "Some fucker had this in his arms when I bumped into 'im—what are the odds, huh? Maybe it is our lucky day, bruv!"

You pause. They don't look like Twins, but in all honesty that means nothing—they have the case.

You take a breath and shut your eyes, turning around and hiding the gun in the flow of your skirt. You walk up to them, your eyes landing on your target as you 'accidentally' trip and fall onto the man in blue's lap.

"What the fuck?!" The man exclaims. It's an honest reaction to some random girl falling onto you. His British accent is thick and your cheeks burn as you stare into his blue eyes. Suddenly, your entire ruse threatens to crumble as your hands shake. You try to shift and press the gun to the man's stomach—like you'd been told.

April, think of April.

"She has a gun," the other man whisper-shouts and this sets the man you'd landed on into action as he hastily grabs your wrists, his other hand gripping at your waist as he shoves you off of him and corners you in the other seat, you back pressed to the wall as he twists your hand.

You yelp in pain, dropping the gun as your tears now fall freely. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a blow or a hit of some kind as your chest heaves.

None come.

"Her hand is trembling, Lemon." You hear and hesitantly open your eyes. The man holding your wrist has turned to his friend, Lemon, and is showing him the shake in your hand.

Lemon looks you over and settles in his seat again. "Poor bird's shakin' in general," he points out, confusion evident in his voice.

The first man tugs on your arm to pull your eyes to him. You look up, body still pressed up against the window as one of your legs dangles from the seat and off his thighs.

You don't dare move as the man looks like he wants to kill you. "What are ya doin' with this," he snarls, shaking the gun to scare you but then he hands it to his friend. "Who the fuck are ya? Some fuckin' hooker tryin' to play assassin?" He looks you up and down in your little outfit and you feel humiliated.

You shake your head. Assassin. The word rings in your ear. "I'm sorry," you cry breathlessly, "Please. I'm so sorry, please—she has my baby,"

You're a sobbing mess at this point, your voice trembling and hoarse. "She has my baby-"

Lemon speaks up when the man doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist. "Tangerine," he hisses, "she's sobbing. Something's wrong, mate."

Tangerine looks at Lemon sternly and then turns his attention back to you. You feel the tears spill down your cheeks as he stares and then he drops your wrist.

In an instant, you scramble to press yourself further against the wall and sit normally. You hastily button up your shirt, sex appeal be damned.

"Someone put ya up to this, didn't they?" Tangerine asks, his eyes softening just a little as he calms himself down. "Does someone have your baby?" he is trying to make sense of the word vomit that had just happened.

"Yes, s-she took my baby. I- I don't know what to do anymore. Please don't hurt me," you plead. Tangerine's eyebrows furrow. He looks at Lemon and they seem to have a conversation—or perhaps an argument—with their eyes.

"Lemon, my brother," Tangerine says after a moment, Lemon's lips curving as he clearly won whatever had just happened between them,

"And I'm Tangerine," he looks you up and down again. "We aren't gonna hurt ya, darlin'. Promise," he says as he runs a hand in his hair and then down his jaw, "And we're gonna help you find your baby, okay? No need to worry."

You stare at him, you have no desire to question their weird names as you are still a little afraid of them, but you nod anyway. They're your only chance of saving April from the hands of the cruel girl. You tell them your name. You have to trust them.

So, you find yourself in the train bathroom, Tangerine hooking something to your ear. His hands work through your hair as he connects the earpiece to the one in his ear. He looks so concentrated and you can't help but stare at him.

He's handsome.

"I'll be able to hear ya through this, ok?" Tangerine's voice cuts your thoughts and you nod at him. You must still look scared because he adds, "Lemon and I will be around the corner, all ya need is to distract her so she doesn't see us coming, understand?"

You nod again and Tangerine's eyebrow raises. He wants to hear you.

"I understand—thank you," you say, voice still trembling. This earns you a smirk and one last check to your earpiece as his fingertips skim the skin around your ear. He looks into your eyes as he hides the device behind your hair.

"Good girl," he whispers and the words roll off his tongue naturally. They take you by surprise as your heart leaps in your chest. Tangerine clears his throat, not giving you the chance to dwell on them as he opens the bathroom door and sends Lemon a nod to follow you.

You try to keep up the appearance of confidence as you walk back to your original seat, the case in your hand. You've been playing the story in your head; They'd left it unattended. I took it from their seats. You don't know if that sounds convincing.

You check behind you subtly and see that the Twins have stayed in the room between the compartments and are waiting for you to distract the girl. You let out a scared breath that Tangerine must hear because his voice echoes in your ear.

You'll be fine. We're right behind you.

When you see the girl, her back is turned to you, and you see April's small legs hanging from the seat as she sits in the girl's lap. Your heart is pounding as you make your way to them.

April seems overjoyed to see you and your heart breaks when you see the tears-stains on your baby's face. Your expression hardens as you put the case on the table and sit in front of the girl.

"Ah, you found it," the girl smiles, caressing April's hair. "You know, we don't compliment mothers enough. Your baby would not stop screaming—it was becoming annoying. The little rascal did tired himself out eventually because he almost fell asleep."

"She. Her name is April," you say without thinking, jaw clenched. "I did what you asked, can I have my daughter back now?"

The girl looks down at the case but shakes her head, "Mm, no. You may not. I still need your help. Come with me," the girl smirks and stands. She is still holding April in her arms and your breathing has become heavy. You try not to make any expression at all when you see Tangerine and Lemon stealthily approach the girl from behind.

You hear her surprised gasp as Tangerine grips her arm and you assume he presses his gun to her lower back because she suddenly tenses.

"Hand her the baby, now," he says in a throaty whisper. He isn't asking. The girl frowns and her hand clenches around April for a moment.

With the commotion, April wails and without hesitation—and the security that Tangerine won't let this girl harm you—you swoop in and cradle April in your arms.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here, my love," you whisper into April's head as tears freely escape your eyes once again. Tangerine's gun is still pressed to the girl's back as Lemon swoops in and takes the case once more.

You're too busy with April to hear their conversation and eventually, Lemon grabs the girl and ushers her away.

Tangerine remains, his eyes unusually soft as he observes you and April. He walks closer, but not too close. He doesn't want to scare April—he tends to scare babies, especially when he's as disheveled as he is now.

You see him and instantly you walk to him and, holding April with one arm, you wrap the other one around his shoulder as you lean up to kiss his cheek. You seem less terrified now that you have your baby and Tangerine's cheeks flush as he feels your lips against his skin.

He doesn't pull away from you.

"Thank you," you say, your hand sliding down his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, and then you back away. "I can't ever thank you and Lemon enough," you bounce April on your hip and she giggles. She stares at Tangerine and suddenly reaches out to him with her small hand.

Tangerine's eyes widen and he looks at you for permission. You nod.

He reaches out and April holds out her small hand to wrap around his finger. She makes a small giggling sound again as she babbles—"She's saying thank you too," you beam in amusement, kissing April's temple.

"She's absolutely beautiful," Tangerine says, smiling fondly. You grin, your attention fully on your daughter, that you haven't noticed the way Tangerine's blue eyes stay locked onto yours as he says the words.

April drops Tangerine's hand and you hold her tightly. "Can Lemon and I help ya find your way off this train, luv? Ya do have somewhere safe to go, right?" Tangerine asks plainly, feeling weirdly protective over you and the little baby in your arms.

You think for a moment, still breathless from what had happened. This train doesn't feel safe anymore. You feel so out of your depth. You were supposed to visit some friends, but you'd missed your stop, and anyways none of that matters anymore.

You'd almost lost April and if you hadn't met them—you gaze at Tangerine—you don't know what you would have done to save her.

You shake your head and Tangerine's eyes narrow. "Well, that's a problem, innit?" he says and runs a hand in his hair. He stands tall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lemon's finished taking care of the girl who'd threatened you and April.

"You wanna stay with us?" Tangerine asks calmly, looking into your eyes. "Lem and I are gettin' off now. We have what we wanted, and we ain't gonna stick around this train to find out what happens if we do. Come with us. We'll keep you and April safe. Promise."

Although his words feel like a pretty, empty, shiny promise, you accept them anyway. You don't have many choices at the moment and Lemon and Tangerine tell you they have what they call a safe house in the area, which sounds better than a cheap motel.

* * *

However, a week later, you still haven't left said safe house.

Lemon had explained that it wasn't safe to travel yet, that he and Tangerine needed more time to settle their affairs before they could easily travel again—especially with April around now. You don't know what that means, only that Lemon and Tangerine often come back from their "affairs" bloodied and bruised.

You'd just finished cleaning Lemon's head wound when you hear April giggling from her play mat in the middle of the living room.

Lemon stands from the couch, his grin widening as he exclaims, "My turn to watch the lil' angel! Tan needs his abdomen wound checked anyway," Lemon wastes no time in sitting next to April and showing her the Thomas The Tank Engine figurine he'd gotten her.

You smile and move towards where Tangerine sits in the armchair in the corner. You turn to him and your eyes widen a little. You're thankful for all the months you spent in medical school before you became pregnant with April because Tangerine looks awful.

His left eye is swollen shut, he has blood dripping from his lip, and he's lifting his shirt for you to look at the deep—while still not deep enough to need stitches—gash near his ribs (which is also black and blue from bruising). He isn't looking at you, a faint tint of pink adorning his cheeks.

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, crouching down and rummaging in the first aid kit on the ground.

"Hmm," Tangerine hums, still refusing to look at you.

It must hurt him because he flinches when you apply some alcohol to the wound and bandage him up. You try to ignore that you're touching his chest, or how his skin feels under your hands. It feels entirely inappropriate to ogle your wounded patient.

Again, good thing you never actually became a nurse.

"So, you're a nurse?" Tangerine suddenly grunts, looking at you with lidded eyes as you move up to inspect how badly his eye is hurt.

You shake your head, smiling. "No. April came around in the middle of medical school and I had to drop out," you smile and prod at his cheek, earning a wince and you mumble a small "sorry."

"Ya still know what you're doin', yeah?" Tangerine raises his eyebrow in question and winces again, which makes you chuckle. You apply some ointment to his eye.

"I paid attention in class, yes. I probably couldn't operate on you, but I can mend your black eye," you tease. Tangerine stares at you and he smirks.

"Good," he looks behind you and after a moment, "Lemon stole your baby," he deadpans.

You turn and see that Lemon must have taken April to the room the Twins had designated as hers. On the first night of your arrival, the Twins had gone all out and purchased all sorts of essentials for children and women. It was unexpected and sweet of them—so incredibly sweet.

"She'll be fine," you laugh and then turn to Tangerine again. He's giving you that look; the one he's been giving you for the last day or two.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. "You know, don't tell Lemon, but you're April's favorite," you say as you clean up the materials you had used on his wounds.

"I am?" Tangerine asks, looking genuinely surprised.

"Yeah," you nod, "she's starting to babble something that sounds awfully similar to 'Tan'."

"Ah," Tangerine seems happy by this development and you smile. There is a moment of silence as you watch him. You're still kneeling next to him and his shirt is still half-bunched up around his torso. Your chest tightens and you hear Tangerine swallow.

"Is April's dad—" he starts and you finish for him,

"In the picture?"

A pause. Tangerine nods and you shake your head. "Nah," you shrug, "Left as soon as he heard I was pregnant. He wanted to continue medical school without any complications. He's probably some fancy doctor or some shit by now, I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."

"Dickhead," you hear Tangerine suddenly grumble, and then his hand finds your chin. He lifts your head and his eyes lock with yours. "He's a fool for leavin' ya. He doesn' know what he's missing," he says as his thumb caresses your lower lip. "Ya understand? He's a fool."

You nod, entranced as your heart continues to panic in your chest. When Tangerine finally drops your chin, you clear your throat and stand.

He stands too and walks closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "Ya don't need to worry anymore, darlin'. Lem and I won't let anyone harm you or April. I won't let 'em touch a single hair on your pretty head," he breathes, his voice stern, and you feel his lips against your cheek for a fleeting moment until he moves and disappear upstairs.

You're left standing in the living room, your heart pounding as you replay every word he'd said. Your skin feels warm and clammy.

What have you gotten yourself into now?

477 notes · View notes

surftrips · 6 months

Note

Maybe you could do single dad jj maybank he’s in college and has to do a project with the reader and has to bring the baby with them and they bond and start to hang out a lot then they start to date also maybe she’s a single mom I feel like that would be like a unique thing

thank you so much for this request! i hope you don't mind that i switched it up a bit (and got carried away lol) but reader is the single mom here and her and jj have known each other their whole lives :)

when you know, you know

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: y/n needs a babysitter and jj is the only person available.

word count: 3.5k

"Okay, I understand. Thanks, anyway," you sighed, running your hands through your hair and hanging up the phone. Your babysitter had just canceled on you, and the timing could not have been worse.

You had been planning this night for months. Between your classes, a part-time job, and taking care of your 2-year-old Margo, it was nearly impossible to schedule anything. But you desperately needed a night out and your friend Emma had so kindly offered to set you up on a blind date.

You scrolled through your contacts list, looking for anyone that was sober on a Friday night, a seemingly impossible task. Glancing at the time, you realized that you only had an hour left to find a babysitter and get ready.

As panic set in, you received a text from the P4L groupchat.

JJ: Wtw tonight?

Not now JJ, you thought.

Y/N: Trying to find a babysitter, mine just canceled :/

Kie: Oh no, Y/N!! I'm so sorry :(

Cleo: Sorry babes, I totally wouldd but I already lost count of how many drnks I've had 2nite xxx

JJ: Wait, you guys went out already?

Sarah: JJ, we told you it's a girls night.

JJ: In that case, Y/N, I'll watch Margo!

Absolutely not, was your first thought. JJ Maybank was probably the last person you wanted to take care of your child, he was practically one himself.

Besides, since you had Margo, he was always acting weird around you. Before, you two would hang out all the time, but now he only saw you if there was another person there as a buffer. He hardly visited or called, but you were so preoccupied with raising a baby on your own that you hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it.

In the beginning, people assumed it was his baby you were pregnant with, but you never crossed that line because your friendship meant the world to each other. He was the first person you told when you found out you were going to be a mother, and you remember how excited he was for you. It was hard to believe how distant he had become, and you wondered why he had volunteered himself tonight.

You assessed the situation: you hadn't gone out in nearly two years, and who knew when the next opportunity would be? You sighed, hardly believing the words you were about to type on your phone.

Y/N: Ok. How soon can you be here?

Y/N: You better be sober, JJ.

You turned your phone off before the others could protest, knowing that half of them were drunk anyway.

"Uncle JJ is going to come over and watch you tonight, okay? Mommy is going to be gone for just a few hours," you said to your daughter, picking her up and placing her in your eye line so you could do your makeup.

"Jay Jay?" she repeated.

"Yes, honey," you smiled, trying to reassure her, or yourself. Out of all the pogues, Kiara and Sarah babysat Margo the most. She had probably only met JJ a handful of times and you worried about how well she would do with him alone.

As if he could read your mind, your phone began ringing and you looked over to see his face on your screen.

"JJ, please don't tell me you're canceling too."

"What? Oh, no, it's not that. I was just wondering if you needed me to bring anything for Margo?"

"Oh," you relaxed. "Hmmm, I think we have everything we need here. But thank you for asking, JJ."

"Of course," you could hear him smiling on the other line. "You know, thanks for letting me watch Margo. I've been meaning to visit her more."

"JJ, you know you're weren't my first choice," you teased. "But yeah, of course. Thanks, I owe you."

You hung up the phone, thoughts from earlier creeping back into your mind. You always assumed that the baby scared JJ away, but sometimes you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more going on.

However, now was not the time for you to be thinking about this, considering that you now had 30 minutes left until your date showed up and you had yet to pick out a dress.

"Hmmmm, let's see. Any suggestions, Margo?" you asked your daughter, combing through your closet for something appropriate. You settled on a short black dress with a boat neck, and black knee high boots to go along with it.

"What do we think, sweetie?" you smiled at Margo.

"Pretty!" she clapped her small hands together.

"Why, thank you, baby. Come on, let's go see if Uncle JJ is here yet," you picked her up and checked your phone for any notifications.

Blind Date: Be there in 5! :)

Crap, you thought. Where is JJ?

You shot back a confirmation for your date and looked out the window for any sign of JJ. You weren't sure if he was biking over or he had borrowed the Twinkie, but there was no sign of anyone outside.

Growing anxious, you gathered Margo's favorite toys and books into the living room and tidied up your apartment to pass the time.

Exactly 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang. You smoothed down your dress and checked your hair in the mirror one last time. Putting on your best smile, you went to open the door.

"Hi–" you started. "Oh, it's you."

"Come on, that's what I get for dropping everything and saving your ass?" JJ responded.

"Sorry, weren't you the one with no plans on a Friday?"

"You know, I can just turn around right now-"

"Stop!" you pleaded. "Okay, sorry, I've been anxious about this all day and I just want to get back to Margo as fast as I can."

"Relax, Y/N. I'm here now," he took in your appearance. "You look great, by the way."

The last time he saw you remotely dressed up like this was prom night.

You couldn't help but blush, looking around for Margo to hide your face. "Margo, look who it is!"

"Jay Jay!" she babbled.

"Oh my god, she knows my name!" JJ replied, looking a little perplexed.

"You know what, I'm surprised too considering she's only met you, like, four times," you said.

"Alright, you're no fun," he looked at you as you traded your daughter over to his arms. "Miss Margo and I here are going to have the time of our lives. Aren't we?"

He tickled her, causing her to giggle. She seemed so comfortable in his arms, you wondered why you were ever worried in the first place.

"Thanks again for doing this, I know we haven't talked in a while-" you started.

"So, where's the lucky guy?" he interrupted you.

"Uhh," you looked over at the clock. "He said he would be here by now."

"Late to the first date? That's a red flag, Y/N."

"As if you're not a walking red flag, JJ. What did you get here on? Your bike?"

"Hey! I refurbished that bike all on my own! It takes a lot of skill to do that."

Just then, the doorbell rang. You rushed to open the door, a smile plastered on your face again.

"Hey! You must be Emma's friend! I'm Tom." he greeted you with a hug and a bouquet of flowers. "I'm sorry for being late, I went to get these flowers for you and was distracted by the girl scouts selling cookies outside. I had to support them, you know?"

"Oh, no worries! Yes, how can you say no to them?" you laughed softly. You took the flowers from him and went to place them on the table closest to you, beckoning him to come in.

"Tom, this is one of my friends, JJ. He's babysitting my daughter, Margo, while we're gone," you said.

"Ah! What a pleasure," Tom went over to shake JJ's hand and politely wave at your daughter. "I promise not to keep your mom out too late tonight."

"That's right, need her back before midnight," JJ remarked.

You playfully pushed him in response, grabbing your keys. "Alright, you have my number so please call me if you need anything. Bye Margo, mommy loves you!"

With that, you and Tom headed outside and into his car.

On the drive over to the restaurant, you learned that Tom was a psychologist, he liked to cook, and reality TV shows were his guilty pleasure. At the restaurant, which was a higher-end place near the water, he pulled out your chair for you.

"I hope this place is okay, I wasn't sure what kind of food you liked so I thought somewhere nicer would be safe," he said.

"Oh, this is perfect. Don't even worry about it," you smiled. "I haven't had a proper night out in so long, I wouldn't have minded if you took me to a burger joint."

He laughed, "Margo is adorable, by the way. How old is she?"

"She's 2," you said. Then, feeling the need to clarify, "I had her when I was 20, at the beginning of my junior year in college."

"I see, how was that? How did you manage classes?" You were surprised at his demeanor, half-expecting him to judge you or run in the opposite direction any second now, but his inquisition was genuine.

"Well, I could still go to classes during the first trimester, but it got more difficult after that so I took a leave of absence. I'm taking night classes now because I work in the mornings."

"Oh nice, what degree are you going for?"

"English, I want to be a teacher," you explained.

"My mom was a teacher," he smiled. "What age do you want to teach?"

"Oh no way! I want to teach elementary school kids. Everyone always tells me how hard it will be, but raising Margo... I don't love anything more than that."

"That's really sweet, are you close with your family?"

You paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question. "Depends on who you consider my family, I guess," you laughed awkwardly. "I'm not close with my parents, but my friends? Those are the most important people in my life."

He smiled, "I understand. I'm glad you have a support system, being a single mother can be hard."

"Yeah, I'm super grateful. Actually, my babysitter for tonight canceled last-minute and JJ came to the rescue. I don't know what I would've done without him."

Tom's smile faltered for an unnoticeable second. "How long have you known him for?"

"JJ? My whole life, probably. I can't imagine a time when he wasn't by my side. He was there for me throughout my entire pregnancy, but after..." you trailed off.

"After...?"

"Afterwards," you hesitated, not wanting to bad-mouth your friend. "I guess he started to distance himself more, I think Margo scared him away honestly."

"You think it was Margo and nothing else?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean," he sighed. "Do you think there could be any other reason why he would be so supportive of you before and not after you had Margo?"

"I-I'm not sure. I haven't had much time to think about it, I guess."

"You want my opinion?" Tom asked. You searched his face for any sign of spitefulness, but came up empty.

"I saw the way he looked at you and Margo, earlier. That boy is not scared of either of you. In fact, all I saw was love. Did you ever think he’s grappling with those feelings?”

"His feelings? For me?" It was not the first time you thought about it, but it was the first time you heard it verbalized.

"Yes, I know I sound crazy, but seriously, Y/N, what other reason could there be to explain his behavior?"

You racked your brain for all the possible explanations. Tom had a point, if JJ had feelings for you at some point in your friendship, or still does, he might feel the need to distance himself to protect you.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"I told you, I'm a psychologist. I notice these things," he smiled.

"Is this how all of your first dates go?" you laughed.

"Not all of them, but I’ll admit, a few are like this. But tell me, am I wrong to assume there was something more going on between you two before you got pregnant?"

You sighed, "No, you're not wrong. Our feelings for each other were a truth that neither of us wanted to confront. We were young, we didn't want to be tied down, it was college. But he was always there, by my side, through everything. Of course, I loved him."

"Well, there you go. There's your answer."

Tom dropped you off around midnight. You assured him that there was no need to walk you to your door, you both knew that you needed to have a conversation with JJ.

"Thank you again for tonight, we seriously need to meet up again," you said, before shutting your door.

"Absolutely, I'll give you the address to my office," he joked.

You turned the key into your door as quietly as possible, in case JJ was also asleep with Margo. Inside, the lights were off and you pulled out your phone flashlight to search for him.

You went into Margo's room first, seeing that she was fast asleep in her crib. "Hi baby," you whispered. "Where's Uncle JJ?"

After making sure she was tucked in properly, you turned to go into your bedroom. Sure enough, there was JJ, fast asleep in your bed.

You couldn't help but smile, recalling memories from high school when you two would have sleepovers. Being sure to keep quiet, you changed into your pajamas and got ready for bed.

Trying your best to not wake up JJ, you pulled open the blanket on your side of the bed and slipped in next to him.

"Goodnight, JJ," you whispered.

—

In the morning, you woke up to the smell of pancakes in the kitchen. For a second, you weren't sure you were even in your apartment, remembering that you live alone with Margo and surely, you weren't asleep long enough for her to know her way around the kitchen.

But then you remembered that JJ was babysitting last night and had fallen asleep in your bed before you got home.

After a long stretch, you got up and went into the kitchen.

"There she is, good morning pretty," JJ smiled at you.

"Morning... When did you learn how to cook?" you questioned.

"What do you mean? I've always known how to make pancakes."

"Okay, that is just a straight up lie. In high school you would have chips for breakfast."

JJ put his hand to his chest, taking mock offense. "If you must know, I started teaching myself how to cook last year when I moved off-campus."

"Wow, I must say, I am impressed, Mr. Maybank."

"Please, that's my father. You can call me JJ," he said, causing you both to laugh.

Were his eyes always this blue? You thought, as you admired his features in the morning light.

After a moment, you broke the silence. "Uh- I better go check on Margo. How was she last night, by the way?"

"Oh, amazing. Best kid ever."

"Really? She didn't give you a hard time at all?"

"Nope, must have remembered me from when she was in the womb."

You smiled, turning around to your daughter's room.

Sure enough, Margo was sleeping like the baby she was. You checked the clock, she wouldn't be up for at least another hour.

"Margo's still in one piece?" JJ asked when you reentered the kitchen.

"Yes, somehow,” you mused.

"Good, want to try these pancakes now?"

"Yes, please, I'm starving," you sat down across from JJ.

"Starving? Your date didn't feed you last night?"

"Very funny, if you want to know about my date, you can just ask."

"Okay, how was your date?" he relented.

"He's a psychologist."

"Cool, anything else?" JJ looked slightly confused.

"He was very normal and nice," you added.

“I would hope so.”

“Yes, and he likes to cook too.”

“That’s great, how was the date itself?”

“Oh the date itself…” you trailed off.

"Y/N, why are you acting weird?"

"Weird? Me? I'm just telling you about my date."

"You're talking about him like he's your therapist."

"Well, in a way, it was like a therapy session."

"So the date went bad?"

"No, it was really nice."

JJ looked around the kitchen, "Did I accidentally put something in the pancake batter to make you act like this or...?"

"These are great, by the way," you said, pointing to the pancakes with your fork.

"Thanks, but can we get back to the date?"

"Oh, yeah, well, basically," you started.

"Y/N." JJ was rarely ever serious, but he was starting to look concerned with you.

"Okay, fine. It started off really well, we got to know each other. Then, he was asking about Margo and my family, and I told him about my parents, you know. Then he asked about you, and I told him I've known you forever, but after Margo, you started distancing yourself and we haven't seen or talked to each other in a while, and then-" you rambled.

"Then what?"

"And then, he told me, or rather he made me realize, that maybe we need to address the feelings we may or may not have had for each other before I got pregnant," you finished in a rush.

JJ was silent, you weren't sure if the expression on his face was scared or bemused.

"JJ, please say something."

"Was that all?"

"More or less."

He sighed, "Y/N, I think one of the reasons why our friendship worked so well was because we both knew that at any moment, we could pursue something more, but we didn't. We both knew that doing that would ruin our friendship, something we've had for nearly twenty years. I thought college was going to be four years of partying and distractions, but instead, I had to face reality”

“Distractions?”

“Everyone that wasn’t you was a distraction, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“Uh, no. It wasn't, actually. JJ, you kept telling me you were trying to meet ‘the one!’”

“Well, I was lying! Okay? You were always the one for me. I just didn’t feel like I was the one for you. So I was stupid and I decided we would be better off as friends, but when you got pregnant…”

“When I got pregnant…?”

“When you told me about Margo, I panicked. I knew you were strong enough to do this on your own, but you shouldn’t have had to. I told myself that I was going to be there for you every step of the way, and I was, until you gave birth. I saw Margo for the first time, and I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Do what, JJ? You know I never needed you to be her father.”

“I know, I know. I saw her and I couldn’t imagine hurting her. I didn’t want her to know me, because to know me is to be disappointed by me,” he sighed.

“JJ,” you stood up now to wrap your arms around him. “Are you kidding me? I was never, never disappointed by you. I was just worried, babe, that’s all. You stopped talking to me after that.”

JJ allowed himself to fall into your arms. “I’m sorry, it just felt like too much at the time. I loved- love you and Margo so much, that I didn’t know what to do with all of it. So I thought it was best to give you some space, until I was better.”

You chuckled, “Is that why you taught yourself how to cook?”

“Stop, I was actually starving and had no choice.”

“And are you better now?”

“When I heard you were going on a date, do you want to know what I thought?”

“What?”

“I thought, I let her go again. I let you go a million times in college, and here I am, letting you go again.”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “You’re the one for me, Y/N. I came over here tonight to show you that. I’m ready for whatever this is going to be, whatever this friendship evolves into. I spent too much time denying the truth, and I think you have too.”

There were not enough words to describe how you were feeling, so you leaned in to kiss your best friend. JJ held your face with such gentleness, you wondered if this was all in your imagination.

Eventually, you pulled away. “I’m done lying, to myself and to each other. This is real, yes?” you asked.

“Yes, I love you, really.”

“I love you too, Maybank.”

You leaned in for a second time, but not before you heard the familiar cries of Margo in the other room.

“Don’t worry, I got it,” he smiled with that boyish grin of his that you loved so much. That you have always loved.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x you

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luvfy0dor · 2 months

Note

Helloo! I love your blog smm! could I request fyodor with a child reader that’s very curious about things and often ask him about lots of things and do often run from his sight cause they saw something that peaks their interests? ^^ so sorry that this request was kinda long 😭

“But Satisfaction Brought It Back ♡⁠˖” Dad!Fyodor w/ Child! Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; none

Description; Fyodor brings curious child!reader to the park, but after being essentially exiled from the playground by some randos, reader sees something moving in the grass and chooses to investigate

A/n: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I FEEL AWFIL, I HIPW ITS ACCEPTABLE AT LEAST </3 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENTS

Headcannons;

★ Fyodor loves that you're curious, but sometimes the amount of questions you ask makes him wonder if your jaw ever gets tired from moving so much. He knows you didn't get that trait from him.

★ If you run away from him, he's walking after you at the fastest speed possible for him. He warns you not to go far because his stamina doesn't allow him to chase after you, but you still do it and it gets on his nerves a little. He knows you don't mean to, but it stresses him out like no other.

★ He often lets Nikolai tag along when he brings you to do fun stuff just in case he ends up needing the extra hand, and Nikolais ability is always great to bring you back to them.

Scenario;

You had one hand in Nikolais and one in Fyodors, happily walking along with them through a park near your home on a beautiful spring afternoon. They decided to have tea together earlier and figured it was a nice day for an outing. They picked you up and brought you to the park and sat on a bench next to one another while you ran off to climb on the playground. It didn't take long for you to socialize, immediately interacting with a girl your age. "Hey, you! Yeah, you with the blue shirt. You're not allowed up here, you don't have the password." You looked at the girl with confusion, grimacing and crossing your arms. "Well it's not your playground, I'm allowed up here if I want to! My papa brought me to play and that's what I'm gonna do." You reply, your eyebrows furrowed and a visible pout on your face.

"That's too bad! Scurry along, you peasant!" She sneered. It made you want to cry a little, but you bit your lip and stormed off. A small group of kids who seemed to be apart of her posse watched. You huffed and went to sit with your papa and uncle, plopping down on the bench. Fyodor and Nikolai instantly picked up on your sad demeanor. "Aw, what's wrong, Malyshka? Are you alright?" He asked, a hand rubbing your back sweetly. You nodde d and leaned into him, making him frown. "C'mon, kiddo, I'll play with ya if you'd like! We're those other brats mean to you?" He asks, bending down to your level. You shook your head and rubbed the oncoming tears out of your eyes. "No, they weren't..I'll go play again in a second, I just fell." Nikolai stands back up and rubs your head. "Alright, if that's what you'd like." He returns to Fyodors side, resuming their conversation. Fyodors comforting hand remained on your shouder for awhile before you decided to get back up. "M'going to play again, papa." You declared, humbly walking back over to the playground and settling for the swings. You sat down and started swinging your legs back and forth, watching the nature around you. You weren't too high in the air before you saw a something moving through the grass across the park. You dragged your feet to come to a halt and walked away from the swing set.

The closer you got, you could tell that the moving thing was actually a large, brown rabbit. Your eyes widened with excitement and you approached it further, following it through a patch of brush. The rabbit noticed you and jumped further into the woods, over logs and rocks. You followed it continuously, stumbling over the aforementioned obstacles trying to reach it. It was about this time where Fyodor noticed that the swing was sitting nearly perfectly still without you on it and his eyes immediately darted around the playground. When he couldn't find you, he called out your name, drawing the attention of the attention of the other kids. "I think I saw someone go down there." The girl from earlier pointed towards the woods. Fyodor cursed under his breath and made his way towards the forest as quickly as possible with Nikolai. "Y/n! Come back here!" He called out for you, worried and annoyed all at once. You had successfully pounced on the bunny, holding it in your arms and heading towards Nikolai and your papa again. You had now been satisfied in catching the rodent, an innocent expression on your face when your papa came into view. The rabbit was squirming in your grasp, but you held him out to your father.

"Papa, Uncle Nikolai, look what I caught!" Fyodor let's out a sigh of relief but places a hand on your back and guides you back to the playground. "Let that filthy animal go, sweetheart, it's probably diseased, and you cannot keep running off like that! I was worried sick, don't do that ever again." He says, a hand over his heart. You reluctantly let the rabbit go, turning to watch it dash off. "I'm sorry papa.." you mumble, grabbing at his cape. He sighs. "It's not fine, but I'm more happy that I found you than I am angry at you." He says, Nikolai nods in agreement. You sigh in relief and go to sit down on the bench, but Fyodor pulls you right back up by your shirt, like a kitten by the scruff. "No, you're going home to wash those rodent germs off of your hands, and then you're gonna pick up your bedroom while your at it." He says. You groan and accept the light punishment he gave. "Yes papa..." You weren't to upset about it all in all, because he could have been harsher on you, especially since you've repeatedly done this, but instead he only wanted you to clean your room; leaving the park and those mean kids behind isnt a loss in the slightest.

A/n; again I'm so sorry if this is bad, I feel horrible for it being so late but I'm locking in on my reqs now yall istg

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contentloadingandstuff · 2 months

Text

Discovering Your Past - Eula & Keqing x Male!Reader

In which they find out you were abused by your ex.

CW: Mentions of past trauma - physical abuse and SA. Modern AU. A/N: My fics are getting longer recently. I wonder if you guys mind?

Injuries are a natural part of life.

A scraped knee, a concussion, a sprained or broken limb - all creatures will have to endure these hardships one way or another. And, as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Each wound leaves a scar, each fight or accident is a lesson for the future on what to do or avoid.

What about those on the other end? Most feel regret about hurting others, are forced to do it or are convinced of their actions' justified nature. Yet among those are some starkly different cases. People who enjoy causing pain, be it physical or mental. And, undoubtedly, she was one of them.

Fate had it that your heart longed for her. She was a beauty, benign and friendly, whose charms worked on you without fail. She pushed, she pulled, slowly dragging you into her web. Your mind was too clouded with feelings to notice just how badly she trapped you. Like a spider she wrapped you in silky touches and words of affection like in a cocoon, and you were completely oblivious to your situation. And that she was - an apex predator, an effortless liar and natural manipulator. She stoked the flames of family conflicts, estranging you from your loved ones. Friends? She gave you a simple choice - it's me or them. You were coaxed into signing off your house under her name, as she encouraged you to do with many of your belongings, until you had nothing. Time and time again she pulled your strings through your heart, backing you into a corner. Alone. Unable to escape. Without anyone to turn to, anywhere to get away.

When your eyes opened at last, nobody was there to hear you scream.

Years. It took you two whole years to escape her clutches, two years of cruelty hidden behind a veil of love. With only the clothes on your back and some Mora in your pocket, you set off to another nation. There, you found a new home, and a new love. Sweet, caring and warm.

But wounds of the past cannot be hidden forever.

You push the door behind you, closing it with an accidently loud thud. Eula kicks off her high heels and enters the hall, placing down her bag and taking her jacket off. You put yours on the hanger and move to take hers, but she sends you a sharp look and walks past you, doing it herself.

The silence is tense. You know what you did.

“Honey, listen. I know I shouldn't have started that discussion-” You try to speak, but she turns around and cuts you off.

“Yes, you shouldn't have.”

Her eyes send daggers towards you. Your heart aches at the sight of your lover so full of anger, all because of you. Her family wasn't easy to interact with. Her choice of career made her the pariah of the line, but after she married you, the relations seemingly normalized enough to make them liveable. Seemingly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have. I mustn't do that ever again. I promise I won't.” You raise your open hands, as if showing you're unarmed. What was supposed to calm her down just irritates her.

She scoffs and approaches you. “I say you are an intelligent man, but times like these are when I doubt it. What's so hard to understand in ‘my family isn't normal and the less you interact with them the better’?”

She's right. Eula has told you time and time again that the opinions her father, mother, grandparents, uncles and aunts hold are final. Nothing will change them, they won't ever back down. They are egomaniacal with a tendency to bring those around them down to elevate themselves. And yet, there's something drawing you to them, something natural that tells you that they can be a source of warmth.

Because that's how things are supposed to be. A family should love each other, be united and supportive instead of polarized and hateful. Something in your soul doesn't seem to understand that you can't find any support in her side of the family.

“I know, Eula. I try to-”

“Then your ‘trying’ is not enough!” Her voice elevates further. There is something building in your chest. The pressure crawls from your heart up through your throat, rotting itself inside your neck. A choking feeling.

“Y/N, you shouldn't talk to them! Never, ever. You know how it ends, don't you? They bring you down, they hurt and belittle you. And you know that, don't you?”

Her eyes are narrowed. She speaks louder now, her words coming from a place of compassion and love rather than hostility. Your mind, however, is focused on something else.

Something familiar.

Her tone picks up, and so does your heartbeat. She's almost screaming now.

“Sorry, dear, but are you masochistic? Or just stupid?! I will have vengeance!”

Your hyper focused eyes spot movement. Her hand goes upwards, your chest sinking. Body stiffening, you turn your head down and sideways, exposing your cheek.

Just as she taught you.

Fighting back was pointless.

You deserve it.

You hold your breath.

Silence.

The blow doesn't connect. You hear the sounds of a barefoot step. You crack your eyes open. You see Eula has taken a step back, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. She blinks a few times and pulls her hand back towards her body.

“Not t-that kind of vengeance.” Eula barely mumbles the words out in pure confusion. She shakes her head in disbelief, her gaze leaving you and dropping to the floor. “Never. I w-would never-”

You spring back to life, as if a grave threat or danger just vanished.

“No no no, it's alright, honey. I just got a little scared of you, haha. It's fine, really!” You smile sheepishly, shame crawling under your skin. On reflex or out of habit, you rub your cheek. “Maybe I really am stupid, for being scared and all, you know?”

She takes a slow step closer. Her voice is far quieter than mere seconds ago, now down from a scream to a whisper.

“No. Don't call yourself that. My… My emotions got the better of me, honey. I’m sorry.” Eula’s voice composes, worry furrowing her brow as she stretches out her arm towards you, this time taking care to do it slowly. “May I…?”

You smile and nod, letting the palm of her hand connect to your cheek. Her touch is gentle, fingers tracing your skin with utmost care.

Your skin is so soft, so smooth, familiar. Her heart clenches, her mind holding no doubt about your reaction. You are not someone easily scared, nor are you particularly fearful of harm. Something, somebody…

“Who was it?” Her hand trails down smoothly, coming to rest on your shoulder. “Who hurt you?”

You shake your head. “What? What do you mean? Nobody, I’m fine-”

“I said…” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “... who hurt you?”

At an instant, the thoughts in your mind already form into a rebuttal, a measly attempt to cover the truth. But you know better than that. Eula isn't that stupid.

You sigh, trying to figure out what to say. Seeing your hesitation, she places both of her arms on your shoulders, her eyes focusing on yours. Within her beautiful irises fading from deep purple to light yellow you find a steadiness worthy of a captain, but also a lover.

“You don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable, honey.” She speaks softly, stroking your skin in calming circles. “I just need to know if justice has been served, or some additional, very particular and very severe vengeance needs to be added to my to-do list.”

“My ex-girlfriend is… She’s no longer a threat, alright?” You close the distance between you and Eula and embrace her. Your lover secures her arms around you right away, providing you with just the comfort you seek. “I just don’t want to go back to those days. They’re over and I just want to focus on you… On somebody that actually loves me. Somebody that doesn’t scream at me for no reason, belittles and insults me, and…”

Your voice trails off. Images and sensations rush through your memory. Every insult, every impact weighs on your voice, trapping it beneath the torrent of nightmarish memories. Eua squeezes you tighter.

“Shh. Don’t think about it now, sweetie. You're here, safe in my arms. I promise to be your shield. However…”

Eula's characteristic pout forms on her face.

“For not telling me about this, I will have vengeance.”

“That was a little shameful for me-” She cuts you off.

“Silence. My retribution is nigh. For your transgression, I shall cuddle you and feed you ice cream while subjecting you to the terror of your favorite movie.” She narrows her eyes theatrically before gently, but firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You cannot escape now.”

You smile in horror.

The screen flashes with a jump scare as a curtain is moved aside. A disfigured monstrosity covered in black goo and rags opens its jaw to reveal a set of sharp, but surprisingly pristine teeth.

“Brains!” Its voice is clearly augmented in some way, deep and a little echoing.

The punk screams at this sight but before he can do anything, the zombie grabs his head with its skeletal hands and bites down. The rest of the group squeals. The man's head is cracked open like an egg, filling the undead's mouth with fake blood and flesh-like props.

“Oh my…” Keqing can't help but gasp a little, her arms tightening around your chest slightly. “That's a lot of jaw force…”

As the zombie digs into the man's brain, a joke comes to your mind.

“He's not going to extract a lot of brain from him, is he?”

In response, Keqing chuckles a little. “Yeah. But at least he is also quite brave. If not for him, that girl would have been the meal instead.”

“True, true.”

The movie continues. The female lead escapes the locker she was trapped in moments ago as her friend is being devoured. Another character throws an empty bucket of paint at the creature, making it fall back, before raising up and exclaiming joyously:

“More brains!”

The kids scream and run away. Keqing, as much as she finds the movie interesting, can't help but recall one scene in particular.

A smirk settles on her delicate features. “So… How's the movie? Do you like it?”

You nod vigorously. “Of course! It's a classic that I wanted to watch for a long time now, but never got around to that. And I can confidently say that I regret not watching it earlier. It's a lot of fun.”

Keqing hums in understanding. Her fingers, one of them brandishing a beautiful and intricate golden ring, slowly move up onto your leg.

“Did you enjoy any scene in particular, honey?” Your eyes follow her hand as it moves up, each finger making a slow, deliberate step.

Just a glance at her slight blush and sly smirk is enough to make you catch on, making your cheeks heat up as well. You gulp.

“Well…” You start, but Keqing places a finger on your lips, silencing you.

“Aw, sweetie~ I know full well how you were eyeing that girl. Your thoughts were betrayed by much more than just your stare.”

Her hands move up, sliding underneath your shirt and caressing your exposed chest. You feel her desire through her movements, careful, seductive, yet impatient at the same time. A little shiver of excitement crawls through your body.

“Honestly, Y/N, I can't blame you. That redhead was quite a beauty, after all. ”

Her hands clench over your body as she rolls to sit on your lap, her eyes, twinkling with desire, pointed right at you. Keqing sends you a wink. Your hands settle on her buttocks.

“But you see, my dear, you got me just a little too jealous to resist showing this handsome guy which girl his attention should be on~” Her hands shift to meet yours, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “So relax and let me have the spotlight~”

Your eyes widen as she hoists your arms off her and pins them to the wall above your head. You try to struggle away, but her grip is iron thanks to the additional strength provided by her Vision. An attempt to release your body from underneath hers fails as well. You're nervous - this never happened before.

“Keqing, you're-” You start to say, but are interrupted by her right hand locking onto your throat.

Your hands clench, eyes growing wide. You choke, any words of protest dying in your restricted windpipe. You look at Keqing, who smiles mischievously, completely oblivious to your discomfort.

“What did I say? Bad boy!” She uses her other hand to pry yours off her choking arm. You relent, shocked and increasingly scared at her sudden roughness. “Now stay still, or you'll regret it~”

Tears form in your eyes as she leans and begins kissing and licking your cheek, adding small bites here and there. You close your eyes, not wanting to see what happens next. The feeling of her genuine affection recalls different images in your mind. The past and the present melt into one in your mind.

As you lay helpless, Keqing continues loving you until her tongue hits an unusual note of salt on your skin. She pulls back and, upon seeing you crying, lets go of you right away. Her hands go to cover her mouth in an expression of pure horror.

“I’m sorry! I’m… Oh Gods, I didn't mean to-!”

You squirm away and, in response, Keqing jumps off of you. She reaches towards you, but ultimately stops herself. Shame, guilt and sadness light up her face, hidden behind her small hands.

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve. By now your senses have returned. Her reaction brought you back at an instant. You get up and approach her.

“Keqing, I'm sorry, nothing-”

You're interrupted as she dashes past you. You can only call out to her as she runs to the bathroom and slams the door behind her. The sound of a lock turning halts your movements.

You sigh and drop back down on the couch. The movie is still playing. Your ears pick up the sounds of soft sobbing from behind the bathroom doors. The heart tells you to get up, to talk to her, to knock down the door if need be, but the brain speaks with reason. She needs time, and you know it. It's better to let her calm down on her own. If you were to approach her now, she likely wouldn't speak to you, let alone open the door.

Tears return to the corners of your eyes. Your heart aches at the sound of her pain. You can tell what she's thinking. That she's awful, dangerous, creepy, abusive. That it's all her fault.

But the truth? She's not the problem. You are.

The TV's noise irritates you. You turn it off and throw the remote across the room. Your head falls into your hands.

How could you have done this to her?

Why can't you just let go?

Why are you so weak?

A shaky sentence manages to make its way out of your lips.

“It's all my fault.”

—

Deafening silence was all that filled the following hour when her crying died down. You went through every possibility of what would happen when the bathroom door would open. You planned what to tell her and how, you anticipated all of her possible reactions. You knew you couldn't fail again. You couldn't leave her in the dark and risk another incident like this.

She shouldn't suffer because of me, you thought. It was your obligation to be transparent with your wife. Not like you weren't dying to apologize, to comfort her, to let her know it isn't her fault. But you were patient.

When the door finally opened, Keqing looked abysmal. Her make-up was completely gone, first made running with tears, then washed away along with them. Her hair was a mess, not a trace of her usual prim and proper style left. Her eyes were red and barely open.

You spoke gently. You hugged her, asking for a chance to explain yourself. She nodded wordlessly and you sat with her by the table. There, you told her everything. You told Keqing about your previous partner and about exactly what you suffered at her hands. Your wife was very quiet, but still nodded every now and then. From the shakiness of her voice when she spoke the few words in your conversation, you could tell she was stopping herself from bursting into tears again. Nonetheless, you continued until the story was told.

“As such, Keqing, my wife, my love, the sun to my moon, none of what happened is your fault.” You continue, following the script you prepared in your mind. “It was my weakness and my inability to move on that caused all of this in the first place. For that, I’m… sorry. I truly am.”

She nods. Her eyes are focused on her hands, fingers fiddling with each other. Keqing slowly lifts her eyes to meet yours. You spot tears gathering on her features.

“Why… I don't understand…” She starts, but upon realizing her instability, she sniffles and swallows the sadness weighing on her chest. “Why would you ever say that you're weak?”

You sigh. “I should have moved on by now, but instead, I kept it with myself and now it hurt you as well. It is my pain and thus my responsibility to handle it.”

“No, n-no that's… How… How could someone such as you be weak?” She shakes her head. “You survived so much. So much pain, so much fear, so much hurt… And yet here you are, Y/N. Not only trusting another woman, a woman whom you not only married, but also allowed into your bed. I can't imagine myself doing something like that so quickly. You've moved on, honey. You regained the strength to trust and to love again. How can this be called anything but strong?”

You open your mouth to challenge her on this, but she acts first.

Keqing breaches the gap between you and falls into your arms. Her body wraps around yours, holding onto you tightly. One of her hands travels to your cheek.

“Y/N, you're strong. For having endured it, for having moved on, trusted again.”

You drop your gaze. Perhaps she is right. Keqing gently lifts your cheek to direct your attention back at her. She smiles, her tearful eyes shining with boundless affection.

“You're the strongest man I've ever known.”

Thanks for reading!

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sheisjoeschateau · 4 months

Text

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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noroi1000 · 1 year

Text

First Sight

Paring: Gojo x f.reader (op) arranged marriage

Warnings: nsfw, death, toxic family, perverted virgin Gojo

Words:10k

Summary: Your fiancé never wanted to be alone. He fell in love with you at first sight. you loved him. You were the strongest. And everything is always thrown on the shoulders of the strongest.

When blue eyes met (e/c) eyes, he felt his heart beat louder.

It's not about what he just saw.

Maybe a little...

You were beautiful. Your kimono fit your body very well. colors. He liked it.

The first meeting, the first seeing of another person is always a look at appearance.

However, he too was staring at the cursed energy.

Yours was so mysterious. There was so much. Less than his, but much more than his disciples.

But your energy was soft as water. At the same time tough.

The water may be soft. But also tough. The water cuts through the rocks, destroys them.

That's why he certainly couldn't say that you're a woman who has nothing but softness in her life.

He wasn't happy when his parents, grandparents and uncles told him that he was going to meet his fiancée today.

He's never even known a woman like (y/n) (l/n).

He hasn't heard much about the family (l/n).

Your family doesn't even reveal what your innate technique is.

But apparently you were born with it.

With developed technique. Not like your Father, who imbues the water with cursed energy and can send a wave at his opponent.

No wonder the streams of water in your estate are surrounded by cursed energy...

What you were born with is far more powerful than making a wave for a surfer.

That's why it's a secret.

Because supposedly no one can so your technique.

Or rather, no one can get close to you while you're using this.

Because every time someone has had it in the past, bystanders have died, accidentally.

People consider this technique to be monster power.

Because no sorcerer could do that. Not that way.

Your technique rips people's flesh apart to give you weapons.

Or your technique allows you to make a man into a puppet on strings.

As a sorcerer, you're supposed to protect people, not use them as weapons.

You are absolutely forbidden to use an upgrade of this technique.

You are only allowed to use water manipulation.

Avoiding something that is lethal to people.

You've been banned from all the elders. From all the superiors of the Jujutsu world.

You can't use your strongest weapon.

Because it's too dangerous for people around you.

Therefore, no one can know about your secret technique enhancement.

They were something your family had been fighting for centuries.

Even if you were often mistaken for the Kamo family.

But now that has changed.

Now you are a family whose technique is forbidden and secret.

You can only use it in emergencies when you know death is certain. Your death.

Then you get permission to use a secret technique, even at the cost of other people's lives.

For them it is only death.

It doesn't have to be that way.

You can only take a little strength from people.

Besides, the only place you'd be powerless to the desert.

There's no water there.

But you never go on missions in dry lands.

Because the elders know your weaknesses.

That's why you never became stronger than Gojo Satoru. And you never will.

Because using techniques, your energy drains very quickly. Because in order to lift water, you must surround each drop of water with cursed energy. Every atom. All H2O molecules that are in a given tank.

And that drains your energy very quickly. Because the more water you want to use, the more energy you lose.

However, once you can control a given number of gallons of water, you can use it without wasting your energy until the entire envelope of your energy on the water is broken.

That's why you always have a bottle of water with you that is already covered with energy. To use this in case of emergency.

You were classified as special grade last year. However, you are in last place when it comes to strength ranking.

This is because, according to sorcerers, you should be able to control hectoliters of water without any problems, and also not waste energy.

However, those were the limitations of your technique.

But using water from the life of other creatures or plants, you get the ability to absorb their energy.

But taking water away from plants and animals is death for them.

That's why you can't do it.

If only curses had a body, it would be so much easier for you.

That's why you know your secret technique would be more effective against a curse user.

However, you've never met anyone like that.

And from birth, when all the water from the flower was seen flowing to you, you were forbidden to use it because the family had trouble with it.

This part of the technique was to be eliminated.

It was secret and forbidden.

And also your parents wanted you to father a son with a very strong man who would be able to exorcise this "monster power" from your family. Because such a fight was considered shameful. Even if it was so powerful.

They wanted your son to have your technique as well as his father's technique.

They clearly tell you that you are to have a son.

Frankly, you don't care about ruling your clan since you'd never have a vote anyway. As a woman...

You'd rather marry someone who won't take orders as much and also has emotions and feelings of her own. And then merge your clans.

Your husband will be the head of the clan, but maybe he will listen to you too?

You hoped so.

Because you didn't know when, but you already had a fiancé for a month, whose name you won't know until a month before the wedding!

You didn't want to be like this!

Once again, your parents with the elders chose something that suits them, not you!

The first time you saw a tall figure in a yukata walk into your house's meeting room, you thought you were being told to marry an old man...

White hair? Only later did you see that some of them had fair hair that could be mistaken for the gray hair of an old man.

Especially since there was only one old man among them. The elder of their family.

The white-haired one you saw was really young. At least that's what he looked like.

Like someone young.

You were afraid they'd give you an old man or a kid.

You didn't know many sorcerers because your parents took away your childhood. That's why you haven't had any contact with people your age.

But when you heard the name Gojo, something in you lit up.

It's right that your parents wanted the best sorcerer for you as a husband.

To get rid of the taint of this technique that has been reborn in you.

Better you give birth to all your children with their father's technique than with your damn shit.

That day you were supposed to find out that your husband is Gojo Satoru. Your fiancé and husband in a month.

You are to be an incubator for him. That was your role.

You are to be the person who will rid your family of this curse, passed down as a forbidden Jujutsu technique.

With all your skills, you were as strong as he was.

Without it, or rather forgetting to have the ability to take life's weapons for you, you were weaker.

You didn't want to follow the rules they gave you.

you don't want it.

Nobody would like to be forced to do that.

You don't like your secret technique because you hurt your mother when you were little.

It is very powerful but also dangerous.

You don't want it, but you got it. So you don't want to lose it.

Because you know that at some point in your life you will need this secret, cruel power that your ancestors gave you.

"This is (y/n) (l/n). Satoru, she will be your wife."

"I didn't know I'd ever proposed to anyone..." he said ignorantly as he sat on a cushion in front of a low table. In front of you.

He seemed very unhappy.

Just like you.

Nobody wants to get married out of necessity.

However, your husband is quite handsome... or rather your fiancé...

You hope he won't be the complete boor like your ex was...

You looked at him, suddenly connecting your eyes with each other.

It was the first sight.

You saw his eyes sparkle like a child seeing a magic trick.

Behind his black sunglasses were shining blue eyes that didn't want you to break your first eye contact.

You know what this man is capable of. A sorcerer who single-handedly could destroy the world...

Someone without whom the world may fall.

That's why they want to keep him on their side at all costs.

Even though he doesn't listen to anyone anyway and has his own morals.

But you felt like he was looking at you like a child. A man with an inner child. Full of hurt and pain.

His childhood was probably as terrible as yours. Or even worse.

"Your wedding is in a month's time." Your smile said with a small smile. "You have this month to get to know each other. Gojo-san insisted."

"I don't want my son to marry someone unfaithful and insufficient. If you ever hear of any betrayal, please let me know. My son will not get anything lower quality."

"Nobody wants to hear your complaints. Old man..." groaned the younger Gojo.

"Satoru –."

"I hate being controlled. And what you're doing pisses me off so much..."

His clan feared him.

He could do anything. All. The strongest sorcerer alive.

An anomaly that cannot be killed...

He was very much against this marriage.

However, his family is very good at playing on his psyche and feelings.

He didn't want to be lonely anymore, and that's what his family told him.

Because of him, all will stray from their paths and die alone. And it will all be his fault.

They were perfectly able to choose the words to hit his aching heart.

Reminding him only of the suffering he caused someone. And then his death...

The person he loved inside was left alone...

Because of his family, he felt as if his psyche was returning to the moment when it all happened.

Everything hurt so much, it was as if the painful lava in his psyche had never hardened. Only as if it was still overflowing, burning him from the inside out.

So did your family who used your skills to get ahead. But they also kept you from managing them.

Because as a woman you have no right.

They insulted you. They humiliated you. They said that your mother's illness was your fault... that it was because of you, because you hurt her years ago. It was accidental.

Besides, it wasn't your fault she got cancer...

She's in treatment.... So most likely everything will be fine. But that doesn't stop others in your family from insulting you and saying it's all your fault.

Suddenly he got up. You didn't know what he was doing, but you continued to stare at him as well as he kept making eye contact with you.

"I don't expect your permission. And I won't wait for it because it's my life."

Suddenly, he offered you his hand, standing next to you as you knelt on your pillow.

Despite the coldness of his words, you felt the warmth of his eyes.

When he still wanted so much to leave the impressions of the first eye contact.

Could you really have a different life?

Without your family controlling you?

Not that they want so much to bring you down to being soldiers who fight against curses, but only listen to them.

You grabbed his outstretched hand, and then he pulled you up.

Still holding your hand, he started walking towards the exit.

Since you have no choice anyway, you can at least not listen to how much they want to use you.

"Why did we leave here?" you asked suddenly. "Sir -."

"Satoru." He said smiling kindly at you.

"Satoru-san. My name is (y/n) (l/n). We–"

"It bothers you too, doesn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"That they're using us." He said sitting on a fairly high wall that stood in the garden.

"Satoru-san, why did we come out here so suddenly?"

"Would you rather sit there?" He asked, resting his hands on the stones of the wall. "Oh. Sorry."

He suddenly jumped and walked over to you.

Putting his hands on your waist, he suddenly lifted you up with a short sound like a humming.

He sat you down on the wall, making sure you didn't fall.

Only then did he jump in, sitting down next to you.

"Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"You've never been?"

"I was... But–."

"You hate me because I'm going to be your forced husband, right?"

"I do not hate you. I don't know you... Satoru-san..."

Suddenly he took your hands in both of his.

"Then let's get to know each other."

You saw the same sparkle in his eyes that you had seen since the beginning of this meeting.

Those were the eyes of a man who had fallen in love.

The eyes of a man who is happy.

....

"Oh fuck..." he muttered, covering his mouth with his hand.

He saw his ears and cheeks turn slightly red.

His rectangular glasses on his nose matched nicely with the classic suit he was wearing. White shirt, dark blue jacket and trousers. Black shoes.

In his hand was a bouquet of flowers.

It looked like he couldn't decide what he should choose because the bouquet was big and had a lot of different colors and flowers.

But it was really well composed.

"What's wrong?" You asked as he stood there and looked at you intently.

You clenched your hands gently on your red dress.

He thought he was going to faint when he saw you.

You looked so beautiful.

Your dress was chosen by your mother.

Juicy red color.

To make you look attractive to your fiancé.

Because maybe if he doesn't want you, maybe he'll at least like your body, they thought.

They didn't know that already he was deeply in love with you, and nothing could keep him away from you.

He already fell in love with you even more during your first conversation.

However, he didn't want your relationship to blossom very quickly.

What if he gets attached to you and you leave because of him? What if he ruins everything again?

What if he makes you lonely?

What if all your hurts are his fault and he loses the person he loved again?

You were supposed to be his first girlfriend.

Because he couldn't trust anyone. That's why he needed a very long time to see if anyone was able to give him time.

Nobody could give it to him.

He needed time to accept who he had become. You need time for someone to accept him.

It may be strange, but he had no one close to him.

He didn't want anyone to play with his feelings.

He didn't want his family to hit him with threats that they would do something to his loved one.

He wanted to be alone.

He didn't want anyone to hurt him or his loved one.

But his virgin mind just couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked in that dress.

Who would have thought that a virgin like him, who learned to cum very late using toys, would look at a woman who would be with him for the rest of his life. You will be his wife.

You will always be with him...

And he won't leave you as long as you accept him...

He doesn't want you to be lonely because of him...

He doesn't want you hurt.

Not now that he's in love with you!

You've been dating for so long.

He was getting more and more open, but it still wasn't what it could have been.

Every time he got closer, someone was dying. Someone was leaving him.

His best friend.

His mother...

She left him with his father, who does everything to ensure the well-being of the clan. Not to leave him in power, so that he can't do something that won't please his superiors.

A father knows his son's weaknesses...

He takes advantage of his weaknesses.

Satoru hates being alone. He hates being the strongest alone... Because the partner they were the strongest with was taken away from him.

And his father, despite being afraid of his own son, used his pain and wounded heart to control him.

So that he can't rule the clan like he should.

It kept traumatizing him. Cause it will never go away.

He didn't want anyone by his side if it meant he would never lose someone he loved again...

He's a little more serious on dates. He doesn't laugh the way you saw him at the school where he teaches.

You felt bad that he probably didn't trust you enough to show you his true side.

He is careful.

And how many times have you heard about how carefree and playful he is.

That he doesn't listen to anyone. That he can turn anything into a joke.

That he doesn't take anything seriously because there's nothing he can't do.

But there was one thing only love could fix.

He was lonely. And he was afraid of loneliness. He didn't want to be lonely.

And he was afraid of the loss that might be his fault.

This is why...

That's why he didn't show this page to anyone.

The hurt side that will never come out of him.

The side of his soul that always hurts.

The side of the soul and heart that will never grow up and will still remain that hurt teenager who experienced as much pain as few adult people.

Nobody knew what he felt. Nobody could understand.

And because he was the strongest, everyone could blame everything on him. Because he should have taken better care of the people who were supposed to stay with him.

The real one is very childish, sometimes scary. Everyone knows his true side. Everyone who has known him for years.

His students know his laid-back, grown-up side.

His friends from school know him from both sides. A free adult, as well as a wounded teenager on whose shoulders the responsibility for the whole world was pushed.

You haven't met any of these sites...

Not completely.

Your wedding is next week...

You hoped you at least wouldn't be so formal to each other.

But what if that's what he wants?

Maybe he just wants you to be a married couple on paper?

Maybe that's what he means...

Maybe there's never going to be anything like a real wife and husband between you two?

However, you at least wanted to try to make him show you what he wants...

You grabbed his cheeks as you sat at his house sipping your favorite drinks while watching a random movie.

Everything was so official.

You prefer that he tell you what kind of marriage he wants from you.

You go on missions together, you help him out so you can spend time together when you get back.

You've been wanting to meet him all month.

But he wouldn't let you go any deeper into his feelings.

He still looks at you with those eyes full of love.

But he doesn't tell you that it is.

You fell in love with him... Yes...

But you don't want to think that you're in love with him and he doesn't want your love marriage.

Maybe he just wants to do your duty, impregnate you, and just raise your children?

You are able to accept it.

Or at least you were able to when you first met...

Now, you can't think that's all he wants.

You don't want him to leave you like this.

Is this the second time someone has betrayed your feelings?

You wanted his arms to hug you and hold you for the rest of your life.

You wanted to help him be the strongest. You will take all these negative emotions from him, and give him everything he can replace so as not to be sad and tired.

You want him to pour out his negative emotions on you, and you will trade it for love. Making negative emotions completely disappear from his life...

But you can't give it to him if he doesn't want it...

Your energy with him is like a calm stream of water. So soft.

You are able to support him.

But you don't know if he wants support.

You're still hoping because his eyes are still on you like that first shight.

"Satoru..." You groaned as you sat down very close to him, your hands on his cheeks. "We'll be married next month..."

"I know." He said looking at you carefully.

"...What do you want our marriage to look like?" you asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You want me to just bear you children? Want me to be your sex partner? You want me to be your housewife? You want us to live our lives as we always do, knowing each other, and just be officially married? Do you want us to be married but live as before?"

He looked at you with questioning eyes.

He never seemed to be interested in your relationship.

As if he didn't show love.

That's why you never asked if he wanted a real marriage.

Because since he only cared about your feelings and didn't show or talk about his at all, he doesn't care about love...

At least you thought so.

He has pleased you for as long as you can remember. But you want him to make that decision now.

Before, he always did everything to make you fall in love with him, which is why he pleased you at all costs. When you truly love him, you will never leave him alone.

You said his name so sweet...

"Do you want us to be separated of our own free will? Would you like to live without me? As a married couple only on papers? Would you like to be alone?"

When you said that, he looked at you with wide eyes.

Oh, no no! He didn't want to be alone! He never wanted to!

That he had to be alone was not his choice! He put his hands on yours as his eyes looked at you sadly.

"I don't wanna be alone... I don't wanna be without you... I don't wanna be like this...

"Satoru...?"

You saw small tears in his eyes as he smiled.

He was annoying at times, but he was never selfish as they called him.

Because according to people who want to destroy him from the inside out, it's his selfishness that makes everyone suffer...

But he didn't want to be selfish for you...

He did everything to make you happy

So for once, let him be selfish... and do what he wants.

"(y/n)... I don't want you to leave me alone... I want you to be my wife... A true relationship... Because I love you... I don't want you to run away from me..." he said more quietly.

On his lips still a smile that said only that he can connect his sides. The side of the real him and the side of the wounded.

He smiled with furrowed brows, and looked at your face.

He couldn't read anything from your face...

He might have scared you, which can only mean he'll be alone again...

"I know arranged marriage sucks. I know it's impossible to love someone in such a short time. And I understand that I'm not someone who has been able to win your heart."

"Shut up you idiot!"

His eyes looked very surprised at those words.

You couldn't say he was hurt very much, but there was definitely something about those words that hurt him.

"Don't talk so much..."

You groaned suddenly, and pulled his neck down, causing him to bend over. So that you can put your lips on his, joining you in your first kiss.

And his eyes sparkled like they did when he first saw you.

He fell in love with the first sight.

The ceremony wasn't what you wanted it to be...

It was boring and serious.

Not like the weddings of people who have normal lives.

Plus, a tradition your grandmother wants to carry on.

You must be a virgin so your husband can take your virginity.

Who would have expected that of the two of you, you would take his virginity?

"Wait... You've never been with a woman?"

"I dated sometimes, but never had a girlfriend." He said straight away, as if he wasn't ashamed.

He was shameless because from the week you know about his feelings and he knows about yours everything has changed.

You know he hasn't shown his true self to you before.

Now you know him more.

As other people call it.

Arrogant, doesn't take much seriously.

Shameless...

He walked around you in his underwear and didn't care.

He came into the bathroom when you wanted to take a bath.

And all this happened one week before an important wedding.

Now you are married.

For several hours.

You didn't expect this.

"We're supposed to have sex now, right? Because your grandmother won't let you rest." He said taking off his shirt with a smile.

"W-We don't have to if you don't want to." You said blushing. Especially seeing his muscular torso.

"Someone said I don't want to? The only question is do you want to... After that, we're supposed to show your grandmother a sheet that has a blood stain on it? Isn't that too old-fashioned?"

"There is... But Satoru...

"Do not worry about me. I learned a lot. Besides, I won't cum right after I get inside your pussy like you probably think." He crossed his arms over his chest..

"It's not that... I'm just not... a Virgin..." You said softly.

Will he react like his father?

Doubt his father would approve...

"And?"

"You're not mad?" you asked.

"Why would I?"

"I had an ex who would kill me if I wasn't a virgin. And he took my virginity. And he also left me because he got bored of me."

"Whenever he shows up and tries to do something to you, I'll kill him." He winked at you. "If he's a total asshole."

"He is. He started texting me when he found out I was getting married."

"Can I kill the bastard?" he asked with a smile hiding his murderous intent.

"He got suspended as a sorcerer anyway, and almost became a curse user because he got pissed off by the thighs he was supposed to save. Only he didn't give a shit about a mission, left a curse, and beat one guy to death."

He remembered something about the words "curse user"

However, it showed what an asshole your ex was. Because even Suguru didn't kill back people because he was annoyed by their behavior.

Suguru killed them all because he was acting to do something about how sorcerers are treated.

"Let's get off the subject of your ex. I don't think any guy wants to hear about his woman's ex."

"Fine."

"We were talking about sex... Shall I undress you or will you undress yourself?" He smiled.

"How can you say such a thing even as a virgin?! Satoru!"

"You yourself said I'm shameless~."

"But! You should be blushing, not me..."

"I've been watching too much porn to be ashamed of, baby. Besides, I'm not a virgin without experience, so I can't cum right after you touch me. You're going to have to put in some effort because I have a late ejaculation~."

You covered your face with your hand.

This is supposed to be a virgin guy who's never had a woman in bed before?

"I have toys in a cardboard box if you're wondering how life has been over the years. If I hadn't come, my balls would have exploded!"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear about your toys!"

Suddenly he appeared in front of you.

"So instead of a toy, let me fuck your sweet pussy. I know you're so much better than some silicone." He said into your ear.

His dirty words sent sparks to your core.

He doesn't act like a virgin...

But he sure is.

Especially when he took off his pants and threw it still on the floor.

A clean, pale cock hung between his thighs.

Closely trimmed, short pubic hair above its base.

"Join whenever you want~. If you don't want me to undress you~. only you know... If you want to save your clothes, tell me because I'm horny for a real pussy I can go in~." He licked his lips, giving you a cocky smirk.

I reached into your shirt involuntarily, and stared at his tall, muscular and sexy body.

"Besides, I have to take my wife's virginity~."

"I am not a virgin."

"My dick is probably bigger than your ex's."

You looked at his crotch out of curiosity.

In fact... It was hard for you to admit it, but Satoru's penis was a little bigger than your ex's. And Satoru wasn't even hard yet!

"You won't do anything to make blood appear." You pointed your finger at him and then looked at the water bottle in the corner of the room.

He knew your technique was water manipulation. And he also knew a thing or two about you having a secret, forbidden technique.

He was curious what it was...

But first he really wanted to get inside your warm pussy. To feel you stretching around him. Feel the heat he never felt.

Hear you moan under it.

He was sick of hearing the moaning sounds from adult movies...

The longer he knew you, the more he wondered what your voice would sound like when you moaned his name while he fucked you.

"Somehow we'll make sure there's a bloodstain~."

You looked at him scared.

"What do you mean?"

"You have such sweet, soft thighs, don't you? I want to squeeze and bite them~."

"My grandmother will kill me... Wouldn't it be better if I cut my arm? A few drops on the sheet and you're done."

"They won't smell blood on the sheets. It's disgusting... I won't let you play with the knife."

"Then what -."

"I want to mark you."

You saw his eyes darken with lust.

You couldn't help but look down as his cock hardened, slowly coming to attention, pulling away from his body.

"But you're curious if my dick is bigger, right?"

He suddenly placed his hands on your face, pulling you into a kiss.

His cock rubbing against your clothes as you stood in front of him fully clothed.

"You'll find out when you let me touch that pussy~."

He suddenly sat up on the bed, looking at you with a slight blush on his cheeks, but still smiling.

You grabbed your clothes, taking off your shirt.

And you saw his breath catch in his throat for a moment.

You turned your back on him, showing yourself unhooking your bra, and suddenly dropped your top underwear to the floor.

You immediately saw your nipples harden.

And then, wanting to tease him, you grabbed your pants and, bending down, pulled it down along with your panties.

Showing him a perfect view of your ass.

His cock twitched.

He was hard so fast.

The atmosphere of sex worked on him.

He wanted you to come over now and sit on his cock.

But he also wanted some foreplay.

He smiled, and with a pink face, he got up and quickly walked over to you while you were still flexing.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on your buttock, slapping the other one lightly.

Causing you to let out a soft moan.

The cute voice that made him so very hard...

"Satoru..." you moaned placing your hand on his forearm as he wrapped his arms around your hips.

He suddenly lifted you by your hips, causing your back to arch as he held your hips up.

You were practically hanging in his arms.

And he suddenly put his mouth on your thighs. Before he dived between them, meeting your pussy with his lips.

Your ass still visible to him when his mouth was between your thighs.

And he held your thighs so that you were with his face as he stood.

His muscles flexed hard to hold your weight in that position.

So that you don't fall, and also that you constantly give him the pleasure of putting his tongue between your folds.

It was better than he thought.

As your torso hung down as he held only your thighs and hips, you saw his cock stand upright, its tip furiously red and its veins throbbing.

That big cock was begging to be licked on that hot, hard shaft.

And suddenly he walked over to the bed with you, gently placing you on your stomach.

He leaned down and kissed your lower back before slapping your ass.

"So soft" he thought, pressing his fingers into the soft flesh of your buttock.

You suddenly turned around and held his hair and kissed him.

"Toru..."

Smiling, he lowered himself, shoving his face between your thighs.

Where he abused your clitoris and entrance.

Still thinking it's so much better than a fake pussy.

So soft and warm. This taste...

The trembling reactions of your body.

Even if he had no experience, his chaotic movements were so good... It wasn't coordinated in your body. But even the way he did everything with ignorance was so enjoyable.

As you drifted away, letting him please you, you suddenly felt a sharp stab in your thigh.

You stood up quickly, and saw his teeth sinking hard into your soft flesh.

You grimaced, purring as his tongue reappeared inside your walls, slithering over your sensitive spots.

A tiny trickle of blood dripped onto the white sheet.

"We're done with your virginity." He laughed as he lifted your thigh and showed strong teeth marks, which made blood where the fangs had been.

As the drops splashed onto the sheet, he licked it off, cleaning your thigh.

And then he started biting your skin again with a smile.

You giggled as you felt his lips pressing against your skin.

And without warning, he put his fingers inside you.

Pulling you quite deep.

You knew his fingers were longer than yours and also quite thick.

But that was good about you.

He stretched you with two fingers the way you stretched with three.

You jerked your hips wanting more. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

So, lifting your hips, you moved so that his fingers were pulled from your walls.

His face flushed as he wrapped his juice-covered fingers around his shaft, stroking himself.

You turned to him, sticking your ass out for him. Pushing your hips into his.

Causing its length to rub against your thighs.

His hands played with your buttocks.

He loved your ass and thighs so much?

He leaned down and pulled your head to the side.

He kissed you as he guided his tip into your hole.

Inserting the tip into you gently, then began to push deeper and deeper.

Until finally his hips meet yours. he was panting. His hips twitched with pleasure. Your scorching walls greedily sucked him in.

That's why he was pushing his hips into yours to feel more of that feeling.

His balls moved to your clitoris, sliding over the slippery bump.

"I don't want to stop.... More.... Longer..." he moaned as he started to bang his hips against yours. ...

"Wait a minute... I want more... Give me a minute... I'm going to be hard... I'll just calm down..." he said choking as his soft cock lay against your stomach, the last drops of cum oozing out of the tip.

He really liked it.

Also, he was no ordinary virgin...

He came later than you...

But he wanted even more.

As he sat on the bed, calming his breathing, you sat next to him, resting your head smiling against his chest.

"Do you know about my family's forbidden secret technique?" You asked suddenly.

"Why are you asking now? I want to have sex with you and you're talking about technique?" he laughed, kissing your head.

"Because I'm going to show you something that can perfectly show what this secret technique is all about."

"Wait... you got it?"

"Yeah..."

"What is this? You're so strong... It's because of that?"

"I can't use it because it kills. But I can show you something innocently."

Your hand moved to his crotch, and you placed your fingertips on the vein protruding from his lower abdomen.

You placed your fingers on its base.

And suddenly you used a technique.

To innocently show him what your technique is all about.

"The human body is made up mostly of water... Ordinary water, blood, any fluid in the body. My family's ancestors learned to control the water coming from the human body. To direct the blood which is liquid tissue. That's why they were mistaken for Kamo. However, my family controls the water. So over the blood. Out of body. in the body. Belonging to me or someone else. Stop circulation, burst the body from the inside out. Withdrawal of fluids from the body causing death. A secret technique no one can know about."

He suddenly felt his blood flow change, and looked to see that your fingers were now resting on his completely hard erection.

"Your secret technique is to make guys get erections?" he laughed. "I thought you just got naked in front of me and I was horny."

"I'm serious..."

"Hey, I know." he said and suddenly kissed the side of your head.

"You didn't have to show it to me... But it... It was really innocent to show it to me... Almost..."

"I wanted to show you so you don't get scared when you see it... After all... Someday something may happen that will force me to use this..."

"Don't worry. I am the strongest. I've seen worse things. And you are my wife. You are wonderful in every way. And I don't want anything to ever happen to you." ...

"We go on missions together, we live in the same house. We live together. That means we're a couple, right? Why are you asking if we're a couple? I'm your wife." You said, laughing softly.

He really liked to hear you say you love him.

But it was a little different...

He sounded so sad.

He asked you to tell him that you are with him.

That you're not going to leave. That you love him.

That you are together.

"I love you. I'll be home soon. I'm on my way back." You said with a small smile.

"I'm home now. I'll wait for you..." he said calmly.

You heard his voice soft.

"See you." you said with a small smile.

Anyway, you think your husband needs home warmth today. And you give it to him.

Maybe you will spend a nice evening?

You want to give him something nice. He always works so hard after all.

And now he still seemed very depressed.

You asked Nitta to drive you home faster.

She of course agreed.

Grabbing the doorknob of your house, you entered, taking off your shoes and top.

It was always warm in the house, so you didn't even need a hoodie.

"Satoru! I'm back!" you screamed.

Most of the time, when you came home later than he did, he would attack you and keep hugging you.

Without end. He was laughing and smiling as he wouldn't let go, teasing you.

But now he was gone.

Maybe he fell asleep?

Was he so tired?

You went to your bedroom to see that the bed was simple. There's no one on the mattress. Nobody sleeps there.

You walked down the stairs looking into the living room. Also no one.

Then the kitchen. Satoru wasn't looting the fridge for a cake.

He wasn't in the bathroom either.

He was nowhere to be seen.

In any room you have at home.

He couldn't be outside because it was so late.

Until sometimes you regret that you have to go on such missions that make you come back so late at night.

You really don't want to go there and leave Satoru at home alone.

You didn't even get the chance to have a proper honeymoon...

Would you like to give him something like this someday...

After all, since you're together, you don't spend that much time on missions.

You have more time for yourself. You work together, so your moments are a bit more.

But Satoru deserves a marriage where he has more time.

More love.

He doesn't have long moments during which he can rest.

It just isn't there.

Such is the fate of being the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer.

However, you did everything so that you could carry this burden together.

You called him. But his phone was ringing in the bedroom.

The device was on the nightstand.

Which means he's at home because he'd never leave without his phone because a lot of people call him.

"Satoru?"

You called again, hoping maybe he was here.

You start to worry about him more and more.

Until suddenly I heard a knocking in the attic. You went there quickly, opening the door to see a room lit only by the moon.

And by the window, white hair that was very visible in the moonlight.

"Satoru?"

Before you could approach him, you saw his shoulders tremble slightly. The object that hit you when you heard it was an old telephone (?).

The display was on.

Do you remember having a similar one when you were a teenager?

Is this his old phone?

Did he still keep it here?

This room has a lot of stuff lying around here.

The attic was like a storage room for you. But it could also be used as an extra bedroom. That's why there was a futon next to the window that you sometimes used to spend time here.

You watched a movie in the dark, you slept here, you had sex.

But you've never seen Satoru here alone before...

Also, something's not right here...

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder.

"Satoru, are you okay?"

You saw and felt his shoulders jump harder.

Like he has the hiccups.

"Toru..."

You knelt next to him.

His hands were clenched in the fabric of the futon as he knelt with his back to you.

And when you were kneeling next to him, you only saw how the tears on his cheeks glistened from the light that fell on him through the window.

"What happened?" he asked quickly, and placed his hands on his cheeks. He closed his eyes.

"Satoru... What happened?"

His eyes were closed as tears flowed.

His jaw clenched. Brows furrowed.

"Satoru?"

"Will you leave me too?" he murmured very quietly. "It's all my fault, isn't it?"

"Satoru... Calm down..." you said pressing his head into your chest. "I'm here... I'm not going anywhere..."

He wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you.

"What happened?" You asked after a while.

"...Everyone shows me that everyone who is important to me is leaving because of me... They love to torment me so much... They tell me it's all my fault... and that the people who are with me will leave anyway because I'm the strongest and I must be alone... Because I will destroy everything anyway... I don't have the strength to listen to this... I don't want to be alone... I don't want to lose you... If this is how it's supposed to be, I don't want to be the strongest!"

You patted his head reassuringly.

You looked at the open phone on the floor, an old picture of him and his friend, right?

His friend...

The person who left but everyone blames Satoru...

"It's not your fault... You don't have to be alone. I am with you. I am not going anywhere. I understand what you are going through with your family... Don't listen to them... You're the head of the clan. You are the strongest. You will never be alone. I'll never leave you. I will always be with you. Since the first time we met, I haven't left you, and I'm not going to leave you... I'll help you be the strongest."

He looked at you with tears in his eyes.

He's really just a kid who couldn't live like a kid. He being an adult reenacts his childhood.

He lost so much too quickly. He watched his loved ones die too quickly.

His family dumps too much on him.

He reminds him of every mistake.

Just like when they were little... And his mother was dying.

"You are to be the strongest! Then why can't you even save your mother?! She died because of you! You can't do anything! You can try as much as you want, but you will always be alone! Because by your strength you bring death to people... That's why you will always be lonely. And everyone who is next to you will leave."

That night, your husband fell asleep in your arms.

Stroking his face gently, all you could think about was that he was the last person who could deserve such a life.

Nobody deserves to be lonely.

Especially him, who has been doing everything to keep people safe for years, sacrificing what he may need...

People like him need the protection of others.

Or at least an assurance that someone will be with them.

Someone to help them with things he doesn't have the strength to do.

Satoru may be the most powerful man alive, but he also needs support.

He doesn't need help fighting.

But his family exploits his weaknesses. The hole in his psyche.

Nothing can break him. But when the blade hits that one point, how can it be avoided?

How can you stop a man who wants to rip your skin off, and he's aiming for a cut on your body?

It's easier to tear the flesh when you pull the wound.

His family does.

It rips his psyche by pulling at the holes that have been created in him.

They cannot win against him in a fight. So they hit something that hurts even more.

Into the heart.

You didn't want to move that night. You just lay next to him on a very soft and large futon, letting him cuddle up to you.

"I will protect you from them." You said as you stared into his peaceful sleep next to you.

"We had a hard time getting you here. Were you busy?" said his father, setting a cup of tea next to you

"None of your business. I won't take extra missions. That's why we spend time at home."

"You are a Jujutsu sorcerer. The head of our clan. That's why you should ride as many missions as you can."

"I'm not going to do everything for others."

"Why doesn't anyone in your family go on missions other than Satoru? Nobody but him does anything. Plus, you're forcing him to bend his hours." You said sharply.

"As my son's wife, you shouldn't be talking. I am talking with him. And you're here as his partner. The rules of etiquette say you should keep quiet until you are asked to speak."

"You really think you can lecture my wife? An old man who can't see beyond his own nose." Satoru growled at him.

"Son, you're getting arrogant with your elders. And also... Don't you think you're being too selfish?"

You glared at the older Gojo.

"You don't want to go on missions because you don't want to? What are people supposed to say when you say it and they die? Their relatives. They are left alone, at the mercy of fate. And then death comes after them."

You felt what he was getting at.

But when you were about to say something, he slammed his mug on the table, causing the glass to shatter.

The tea began to spill.

"You're not trying to save more and more people. You're not trying to take any more missions. You're not trying to keep them alive. If you tried, you could save everyone. Everyone you've always wanted to save. If you'd kept trying instead of just once, HE would still be alive."

You felt his energy change.

His father was now stabbing him in the bleeding wound.

A flaming knife.

That he was putting so much pressure on your husband pissed you off.

Your husband's only weakness... His best friend he lost...

You fill some of that void for him, but you'll never be him.

Even though he loves you, you are not Geto Suguru.

But even so, you fill that void in part, making it never grow. As long as you are there.

"How dare you say that to Him..." you growled, the tea on the table suddenly rising.

With your emotions, the water has become hard. So the streak of water that was in front of his father was sharp.

"Someone who is so selfish can't be head of the clan. Commands are not obeyed. Plus, he can't teach his own wife that women have a place, and they don't interfere when men are talking."

"He will not be your puppet! Is this how sorcerers fight?! Taking advantage of man's only weakness?! How can a father tear apart his own son's psyche?! It's not his fault! He can't save everyone! He is only one and none of you help him!

"So why does he still have the last name Gojo?"

You widened your eyes when you heard that.

"If he can't, why is his last name Gojo? Why is he the strongest? His power is deserved because he comes from our family."

"He is to rule you. He is to know what is good. What is good for you. What is good for him."

You moved your hand.

You wanted so much to catch the connection of your technique with his blood right now, and wring his neck with his own body.

But... You don't want to be the monster that the users of this technique think are...

If anyone finds out, you'll be a sorcerer monster.

"Just try to do anything to my Satoru and I won't stop myself from killing every wretched member of this clan!"

The tea in front of him flew past his cheek quickly, brushing against his wrinkled skin. Then it flowed into the teapot which the maid was holding.

As the elder's skin began to drip blood, you suddenly disappeared.

You showed up at the Jujutsu school's ground.

It wasn't until later that you realized it was Satoru who transferred you.

"You didn't have to do that..."

You looked into his slightly sad eyes and reached up to kiss him.

"I promised I would protect you from them." You said with a smile. And only then did you notice that your eyes were small tears.

"Sensei! Shall we start training?!"

You looked back to see a group of people walking towards you.

"If you feel like it now.” Your husband said. Suddenly he was smiling.

"We're leaving later, so now." Said the girl who was standing next to the pink haired one.

"wait a minute! I'll be right back." He said clapping his hands.

"Where are you going?" you asked.

The students looked at you.

"I need to get something from the office."

"Can I train them? Just a minute."

He smiled seeing your eyes.

"Let's start training!" He said cheerfully. "Welcome your new trainer, Gojo (y/n)!"

"Gojo?"

"My wife!"

...

You didn't know that teenagers would like your technique so much.

Especially the few who got hit by the water tentacles because they were hot and the water was cool.

They avoided it.

And the longer it was, the more they wanted to be helped by the cool water bands.

Until at the end you created a large but flat drop of water for them to use as a swimming pool.

Satoru didn't come for half an hour.

But he did give you the message that the Principal wants to kill him.

But there was something wrong...

You felt a familiar energy.

That's why you glanced at the pavement to see a familiar rather tall figure.

You stood up as the man approached you.

Could this day get any worse?

"I didn't expect to see you with children. (y/n). Especially since the first children you were supposed to teach would be mine."

you snorted.

The teenagers looked at you.

They didn't know this man.

Nothing unusual. Nobody would work with a sorcerer who was suspended for murder.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I say hello to my ex-girlfriend? Besides, I wanted to visit you. Especially since you didn't invite me to your wedding." he laughed.

Your face hasn't changed. You continued to stare at him with hostility.

"Guys, we go. I'm buying you dinner." You said to the kids behind you, and waited for them to come out of the water to dissipate your energy so that the drop would melt.

They got things together quickly.

You started walking away, walking alongside Maki and Kugisaki.

But he suddenly grabbed your arm.

"You won't invite me?"

You weren't the only one who felt he was acting hostile.

The girl's exercise stick was placed against his forehead.

People like him need to be exterminated.

Especially since he reminded the girl of one of her family.

"Should I be afraid of some kid's stick?" He laughed.

Suddenly, the stick moved at dizzying speed, hitting his side hard. Causing him to curl up in pain.

"Let's go." you said to them.

You followed them, but his hand gripped your ankle as he knelt on one knee, one hand on his side.

You kicked his arm but he quickly got up and grabbed your arms.

"I know those eyes!" He said delighted. "That's how you looked at me when you beat me when you broke up with me!"

You kneed him in the stomach, but he didn't move away.

He grabbed your jaw.

Borrowing water from the grass and earth beneath you, thick ropes of water appeared around his legs.

"I'm your boyfriend. You were supposed to live with me, remember? So don't be stupid and come back to me. Or I will kill your husband. Come back to me and I won't tell everyone that you are descended from a sorcerer monster and have inherited this secret technique. Unless you want everyone to be afraid of you. Make everyone hate you."

Your hand trembled.

"Come on. Do it, and show that your technique is not as innocent as water. Show that you can kill a man by dissolving his body through blood. Show how bloody your technique is. I'm sure your little disciples will forgive you. You didn't kill me in front of them. come on. Do it. Show that we fit together. Kill when something pissed you off."

His wrist was caught by a hand.

"Let go."

You looked at Itadori who was standing next to him and was squeezing his wrist very painfully.

"You're sending kids after me because you can't fight alone? Show them what you really can do. And then we'll be together again, won't we?"

Suddenly, his body was thrown to the ground with great force.

Causing him to cough.

"You stupid brat!" He groaned as he sat on the grass.

"I won't let someone I don't even know hurt (y/n)-san! If she doesn't want you to approach her, then don't!"

"Itadori-kun..."

He smiled slightly at you.

"You think you can beat a grade 1 sorcerer, brat?!"

"I can. I think so. (Y/n)-san is as strong as Gojo-sensei. But even I would win against someone like you. Attacking a woman is not something you can do with impunity."

You heard Kugisaki's soft cheer as he said it.

"Yeah... Especially when it's my woman."

You looked at a very tall man who appeared behind your ex.

Before he could turn around, you saw your husband's hand stick out, and his two fingers point towards the forest.

And as suddenly as he appeared, the man in front of him was thrown into the trees, giving him the perfect passage to you.

"Well said Yuji-kun!" He smiled at his student.

"Sensei!" His eyes glittered.

"Next time that asshole shows up here, don't hesitate to kick his ass. He is walking a very thin line. One move too far and he's a curse user. I won't hesitate to kill him the second time I see him." He placed his fingers on your cheek. With a dark smile.

"What he did?" asked his red-haired student.

"He's always been an asshole. Until finally his stupidity went through the ceiling. And because he got pissed, he killed people on a mission. And the elders thought it was an accident during the fight." You said.

"Satoru..."

"I said I won't hesitate to kill him the second time I meet him..." he said wiping the blood from his cheek.

In his hand was your ex's head. Blood dripping from his head and face.

"He wanted to kill me. He wanted to follow you. He wanted you." He said low. "He told me about a secret technique you have, even though I already know it..."

His clean hand brushed his hair to the side.

"The only thing that wanted to take you away from me. That's the shit." He lifted his head higher. His bloodied body sliding across the floor.

You had to quickly scrub the floor of the blood...

"I was very upset that he touched you... I have to admit it. I never thought I'd have to kill him. But I don't give a shit. People who want me to be lonely will end up like this. You are all I have left for me. Don't run away from me, okay? Don't leave me alone... I did it for you."

You smiled slightly at him.

"I will not run away. Thank you."

You walked over to him, hugging his chest. His clean clothes, not stained with blood thanks to the infinity on his body.

You release yourself from anything that can separate you.

You protect each other.

Long black hair flowed with the movement of the man who stood in front of the kneeling Satoru.

You knew the features of this face from the pictures Satoru had.

Your water snakes disintegrated as soon as they touched this man.

"I appreciate your attempts. Child of the Water Manipulation Technique." He suddenly smiled. "Or rather... Child of the Secret Blood Technique of the family (l/n)."

You widened eyes and took a step back. Curses have no body...

And you no longer have water from the tanks on your belt...

"(y/n)...! Run!"

You looked at your husband's face as he looked at you.

Screaming for you to run away?

You were supposed to protect each other...

"You'd be so much more powerful if you used the blood technique. Relying only on water, you can't do anything. Killing in a second, using the human body as a fighting toy. Isn't that more powerful than wasting energy attacking with water that can be dispersed? The blood in the body is closed in a single circuit." He took a few steps towards you. "You can kill me with a flick of your finger."

he whispered.

you felt it. You felt like you could move his blood into his heart and then burst him from the inside out.

But...

Satoru looked at you with such hope...

He made Satoru kneel.... It's unforgivable!

It's awful. A man like him cannot be humiliated.

He wanted you to run away.

Suddenly, the black-haired man felt a tightness in his heart. He couldn't feel his legs or arms. But he was still standing. As blood rushed to one spot in his body. To burst his heart.

"(y/n)!"

"Don't listen to your husband. Become like him. Like your ancestor. Become a sorcerer monster who used the blood technique to kill anyone who was nearby. Kill the heart of your husband who believes that you are not like your families. Show that, just like them, you will do anything for power and victory."

Your hand was lowered as you fell to your knees exhausted.

You didn't see the smile of the man in front of you.

"Prison Realm, Gate."

He pointed at you, and then a piece of the passage stuck to you. And you were pushed into your husband's body.

"I'll see you in the new world. Two of the strongest sorcerers."

"Sorry..."

"What matters is that you're okay."

"I don't want to be a monster..."

"(y/n) calm down. Nothing happened. What matters is that you are whole..."

"Satoru... I'm so tired..."

"Huh?"

He suddenly grabbed you as you lay down with your eyes closed on him. He was sitting in one place.

"Hey... What's going on? Honey..."

"I don't feel any energy..."

"I don't feel the cursed energy either... We're locked in here..."

"I don't feel any energy in my body at all..."

He widened his eyes.

Your technique is water.

Your energy is like water.

By taking away your cursed energy, you are like a man in a desert without water.

Even though you're not dying of thirst, you're so tired. You want to go to sleep. You want relief..

"Don't fall asleep, please don't leave me here..." he moaned.

"Can I at least get some sleep?"

"And if you don't wake up... (y/n)!"

"I'm still here. I'm not leaving you. I'll only sleep for a moment." ...

"How long does she sleep?"

"Since we were locked up in the prison Realm. She fell asleep there."

"She should wake up soon. Thanks to her being with you, at least she's alive. If only she had been locked up there, she would certainly not have been cared for when she got out. Anyway, she's just sleeping. So don't cry anymore, Gojo."

...

"How can I not cry when I thought I was alone again?"

....

When you open your eyes, he was lying next to you in bed.

"Good morning Baby."

You were hugged by him as soon as you looked at him.

He started kissing and hugging you.

Even if I didn't know what it was about.

"You finally woke up..."

"How much have I been sleeping.... Toru..."

He looked at you with a childish smile.

"Soon..."

He wasn't telling you the truth because for you, that time was like a while. But he didn't know if it was minutes or hours. Or days.

That's why it was soon.

You lay on his shoulder while he was nestled in your hair, sometimes kissing your forehead.

They all came to you.

Lots of people who you don't know...

But they were still nice.

"How do you feel?"

"Very good." you said to your husband when he asked.

Then he hugged you again.

Then you looked at the people around you.

"Where's Kugisaki?" You asked calmly.

Nobody answered you.

you understood...

"And Megumi?"

You looked at Satoru who was looking at you seriously.

"Honey... I'd like to ask you for help... To get Megumi back..."

"To get back?"

"We must destroy Sukuna to get him back..."

Suddenly he turned around.

"It doesn't make sense... I won't put you at risk." he said looking at you with the same eyes you've seen before.

The ones you saw when he killed your ex.

Caring but dark.

You got up and cupped his cheeks.

"You protect me, I protect you. It's been that way since first sight, and it will be. Even if we may die. If so, we will die together. Neither of us will be lonely."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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starsexplodeatnight · 4 months

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John Price X Reader!

My first published piece!

Captain John Pricex Reader!

Minors do not engage!

You loved him, really. But, John Price is a lot to handle. Yes, he is a family man, a great husband, a wonderful provider. But he holds on too tight. Tight enough to strangle. You- You had to do it.

even though it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest when he found out... Oh, his poor watery blue eyes you loved so much...

You cried your eyes out in bed that night, alone.

Price is eh, heh- heh, heh, heh. He's not letting you go, love. Not ever.

You live in this incredible house, curtesy of your husband's high paying career in the military. It's the perfect place for children to grow up...

Toxic Ex-husband Price never leaves. "The house is ours, love. Ours is ours." And leaves no room for debate. He'll live in the in-law apartment above the detached garage, yeah? He's not happy about it and uses every instance he can to weaken your resolve and stop this silly 'separation' nonsense.

Walk's out onto the balcony in the morning in his robe, coffee in hand. The robe is open, exposing his chest to the neighborhood. He doesn't care that the women jogging by can see and stare. He only cares when he sees you stop and stare out your bedroom window, all alone. Before you aggressively close the curtains, trying not to fall for his tricks!

Semi Toxic Ex-husband Price, who still wants all the gossip you used to share with him when you were married. He'll just stroll into the house from the back door and hear you chatting with your friend from Pta.

He does what he used to, sit his ass right next to you and press his ear on the other side of your phone. Does he care about the gossip? Not really, it's amusing, but not really his thing. What he loves? He loves how you used to turn to him and go off. You look so happy, chattering on and on about what you'd just heard. Including him in your life...

He says he doesn't really like the gossip but will get upset if you don't tell him every detail. His job is to know, love. You can't just leave him hanging! He will demand to know more about Patricia from the parent-teacher conferences. She slept with the teacher! You can't leave him hanging on that, luv! Just to get you to talk to him the way you used to.

Semi Toxic Ex-husband Price, who is your mother's favorite.

She hates your sister's boyfriend; she hates your brother's wife. You? You landed the cream of the crop!!!

How could you have left him??? Your grandma, your mother and your aunties LOVE him, smug bastard. He eats it the fuck up...

They greet him like the long-lost son they wish they had! Meeting him at the door with kisses on the cheek, beckoning him towards the kitchen, treating him like royalty. He is the favorite, and he's not even blood!

"Oh, such a handsome man! So nice!" "So polite!" "And respectful!" "Here, is she feeding you enough?" Oh, when they learn you've served him with divorce papers? They all cry out in alarm. Everyone, not just the women. Uncles, Grandpa, Cousins, all of them.

"What you talking 'bout divorce? fah! He still come to family parties!" They would totally be on his side… They all help in his case to get back together with you.

It'd make him so much worse….

Especially if your youngest kid is going to her first day of school. You both drop her off and you bawl your eyes out and he's there to comfort you, just like he had with all the times before… cradling you to his strong but soft chest. So warm... familiar... soothes the heartache you're experiencing.

Do you want another baby? You miss having a little one around now that your youngest is off to school, yeah? He can help with that…

Maybe- Maybe you... Maybe you were too harsh on him. Maybe, give him another chance...

#cod x reader #tf141 x reader #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #x reader #fem reader

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all-mirth-no-matter · 6 months

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Time After Time | Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: A significant death shakes up the Shelby household just as you find your way back inside. That events and those after make you start to wonder if now is the time to finally listen to Madam Despoina.

Warning: character death, language, yelling

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 13: Ghost

I like the sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies. Kiss me in the corridor, but quick to tell me goodbye. You say that you're no good for me, ‘cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve. And I swear I hate you when you leave. I like it anyway. — Ghost, Halsey

Coming back to the Shelby household wasn’t exactly what you expected. Best case scenario, you expected to be greeted warmly by Polly or Ada; worst case, you expected to have the door immediately slammed in your face by Tommy himself.

Instead, when you knocked on the door, little Katie greeted you.

John’s oldest daughter’s eyes widened and a smile spread across her face when she recognized you, “You’re back!”

She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside as you used your foot to close the door behind you to keep out the cold. When you got into the kitchen, Finn jumped from his chair and threw something into the fireplace.

“Finn,” you scolded. “That a cigarette?”

“Don’t tell Aunt Polly,” he begged, cowering down more in his chair.

Jack ran into the room, a smile on his face as he got ready to watch the show of his youngest uncle getting into trouble.

You hung your jacket on the hook and sat next to Finn, noticing him flinch slightly as you scooted closer. The instinct made you swallow knowing he probably expected you to hit him — one of the discipline actions of the times that still made you cringe despite your attempt to shield your facial expressions.

“I won’t. But you really shouldn’t smoke, especially while you’re still growing. It stunts your growth, ya’know. You want to be this height your whole life?” You tousled his hair playfully to emphasize your point.

Actually, you weren’t a hundred percent sure if that was true — you remember hearing it when you were younger (that and coffee) but you never actually ever did research on it yourself.

“It’s also bad for your lungs,” you added, closing the unattended box of sticks that were sitting in the middle of the table. “It’s bad enough the air quality here is practically smoke itself, the second hand smoke will probably kill us all—“

“Is that what’s happenin’ to mummy?” Katie asked, her hand resting on your knee as she began petting the material of your skirt.

Brow creased, you looked to Finn and Jack, then around the house and noticed no one was around.

“Where is your mum?”

“She’s sick again,” said Jack, or J.J. as you’d immediately called him when you learned that his real name was John, and that he’d been named after his father (Junior). Another moment of instant regret, seeing as you had no idea if initial names or initial nicknames were a common thing yet. But the seven year old latched onto it immediately and you’d apologized to Martha profusely. After the initial shock of her son insisting everyone call him this, who she’d named after John proudly, she finally admitted to finding the nickname quite cute.

That’d been the first substantial interaction you’d had with Martha after just starting in the house. Even before the boys returned, you’d offered to help watch the kids whenever Polly or Ada were babysitting. You’d built a bit of a rapport with the little ones over the months, which had honestly surprised you seeing as you had zero experience with children, being an only child and not having been around family outside of your parents your whole life. It’d taken a little longer to get friendlier with Martha, but eventually you’d found a mutual ease around each other when you were both in the house. But unlike Ada, you didn’t find yourself spending any time outside the house, or alone even, together. And that was okay.

But when she first started getting sick, you’d tried to put in a little more effort to at least let her know you were there for her, or Polly, or the kids, if they needed you. Last you’d heard, Martha had started feeling better around Christmas.

“It’s not smoke, dummy,” J.J. said harshly to his younger sister when she asked again if it was was because of the cigarettes.

“Hey,” you said instinctively, “no need for name calling.”

“Auntie Polly said she’s cold—“

“She’s got a cold—”

“Where is she now?” You interrupted before they escalated, bringing all three of their attentions back to you.

“Auntie Polly took her to the ha’pital,” Katie answered. “Teddy and Annie are with Auntie Ada, said they needed naps.”

And with that, you launched into babysitter mode for the three downstairs. You kept out of the way of the kitchen, especially when the shop opened. When Ada returned with the youngest two, you all took a trip to the shop for food, per Polly’s instructions. By the time you returned, Polly was back and starting dinner.

That’s when she broke the news silently to you and Ada.

Martha had passed away.

Polly was angry with the hospitals, ranting about how she didn’t trust them and how she never should have taken her there in the first place.

“I’ve sent word to John, but he’s still in Digbeth. I’m afraid I’m going to have to break the news to the children.”

You offered to stay the night to help with the kids and housework. That first night had been filled with tears. You even caught Polly’s eyes damp a handful of times during the quieter moments.

Over the next few days, whenever you didn’t have a shift at the Garrison, you ended up at the Shelby house, even sleeping in one of the unoccupied bedrooms most nights. Polly was spending most of the following days preparing for the funeral, while you and Ada tried to make this new world make sense to the children.

You and Ada both had your own experiences of losing your mothers to draw on in an attempt to console the little ones. But it was still difficult, especially for the youngest two, who were still not completely understanding that their mother wouldn’t be coming back. Finn’s patience and kindness to his little nieces and nephews had been the most endearing part for you. He’d been too young to remember his own mother, but was able to explain this new reality in child terms that surprised you.

Since arriving in this time and place, it was hard not to judge the living conditions and lack of opportunities that surrounded you, especially when comparing them to your own upbringing. You’d always considered yourself middle to lower class, but you still had so much more privilege than whole chunks of the world.

Here, even with some of those privileges, you were beginning to understand just how much faster it seemed these children of the time had to grow and mature than you ever had to. Hardships like losing parents at a young age were just the beginning — poverty, malnourishment, lack of education opportunities — these were things that you couldn’t imagine having grown up through. It make you think about Ada and Tommy, your previous image of them running around as children suddenly shifting to something more heart clenching.

Your respect for Polly and her role as matriarch was already high, but over the next few days it only grew as she handled the household, children, business, and funeral arrangements nearly on her own. There hadn’t been a peep from John or any of the brothers until the night before the funeral.

Not yet asleep, you could hear the banging of doors opening and chairs moving in the kitchen. Instinctively, you rose from the cot and grabbed the fireplace stick. On your way down, you stuck your head in the kids’ room, seeing them fast asleep before shutting the door and heading for the noisy intruders.

“Come on, Tom,” you heard Arthur’s voice coming from the kitchen. “She’s got a sister—“

“S’not tonight.” Tommy replying made you pause, your heart jumping at hearing his voice for the first time in weeks. “We’ve got— got the funeral tomorrow, then back to ‘beth.”

His voice sounded lighter than normal, if not slightly slurred.

“Ah fuck it — we’ve been over there for weeks now. The whores here know exactly what I like, them in Dig—“

You cleared your throat, startling both men, though only one reached for his gun to point in your direction. Despite your curiosity to hear more about their escapades, Arthur’s voice had grown louder and you were fearful he’d wake John’s kids, who’d been nightmarish already to settle down.

Tommy’s throat bobbled as he lowered his gun, setting it down on the table. You noticed the dishevelment of his hair and collar of his shirt under his jacket. That, along with the way Arthur was swaying and both with nearly empty bottles in their hands confirmed what you suspected — the boys were wasted.

“The fuck’re you doin’ here?” Arthur asked, his voice not holding as much disdain as you expected, despite the words coming out.

“I’ve been helping Polly and Ada with the kids,” you answered softly, crossing your arms. “They’re asleep upstairs, if you wouldn’t mind keeping your voice down.”

Arthur’s brow creased, his voice still at the same decimeter despite your request. “You ain’t got kids—”

“John’s kids,” Tommy reminded his brother. He gestured toward the door, “Go on now. Don’t you have someone to meet?”

Arthur perked up, “Right! Suppose you won’t join me now, eh? You’ll know where I’ll be!” He gave a final shout before leaving the room and closing the door loudly behind him, causing you to cringe and listen for the stirrings of awakened little ones.

After a moment of silence, you turned back toward the kitchen where Tommy was beginning to remove his jacket.

A deep red stain on the shoulder of his shirt sleeve caused you to gasp, walking toward him without realizing what you were doing, setting the fireplace poker on the table.

“What happened?” You asked, touching his arm gently as you rotated it to see a slash in the fabric.

Tommy shrugged, unsteady on his feet as he instead reached for the fuller bottle of rum on the counter. “Just a scrap ‘fore we went to the pub, ‘s nothin’—“

“I can help—“

“Just go back to the room—“

“Sit down,” you instructed more sternly. He glared at you, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Take off your shirt, that’s going to infect if we don’t clean it.”

“I can do it m’self,” he mumbled and turned to leave, but began to stumble as he became imbalanced.

You caught and stabilized him before guiding him back to the chair. “You’re drunk as fuck, Tommy. Just sit down and let me help you.”

He huffed, but began to slide down in the chair until it creaked with the extra weight. Satisfied, you finally turned to get a fresh bowl of water and clean towels, then the bandages you’d seen Polly use a few times before. He was unbuttoning his shirt when you pulled up a second chair closer to him, ringing the cloth in the water.

“What were you gonna do with that?” You caught his gesture to the fireplace poker on the table, his voice laced with condescension. “Should learn how to handle a real weapon.”

By the time you sat down, Tommy had his bad arm out of his shirt.

“I know how to handle a gun,” you answered plainly, your voice serious as he watched you examine his wound.

Well, you knew how to handle a gun in the 2000s, that is. With your father being a military man, he wanted to make sure you and your mother went through the proper gun safety and etiquette classes since there’d likely be some weapons in the house. You hadn’t been to a shooting range since your father was alive, but you imagined if you had to handle a gun today you’d at least not make a total idiot of yourself. Now, whether you could actually shoot a live person was another question.

Concentrating back on Tommy’s arm, the blood had begun to crust around the cut, but began to bleed slightly as you started to put pressure on it. He hissed slightly at the contact.

“Sorry,” you mumbled slightly as you continued to work. “Why’d you let this go so long? You know better—“

He scoffed, “Do I?”

“I would have assumed so,” you answered honestly. Someone with the military backing he had, he must have known the dangers of infections and exposed wounds. Though as you worked you began to realize it wasn’t as bad as it’d originally appeared.

He took another swig of the bottle before handing it to you.

“No thanks,” you answered, not in the mood to drink tonight.

“For the cut,” he said as he shook his head, a breath of amusement exhaling from his nose at your reaction.

Sterilizing, you realized, giving yourself a duh as you took the bottle and carefully poured some on his skin. He hissed again as blood started to flow once more before you applied proper pressure. You sat there silently for a moment, just holding the rag to his arm, when you noticed him looking down at the cut sleeve, running his thumb across the red stain.

“So much blood for such a small cut,” he said softly, mostly to himself.

Your brow creased as you lifted the rag to look at his arm. The cut itself wasn’t that deep, but it was pretty substantial, at least in your opinion. Maybe comparatively it wasn’t as bad as some of the other injuries he’d had in his lifetime. The thought made your heart clench as your eyes began to notice other scars along his arm and uncovered chest.

You kept going back to a particularly gnarly scar just above his chest as you lifted his arm to wrap the bandage.

“Did you get this fighting?” you finally asked, turning your attention back to the cut, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He grabbed the bottle and took another drink. “‘Cause that’s all we do, eh? Drink, fight, and fuck—“

“I didn’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice strong in defense.

You wouldn’t mention how his brother was just talking about whores. Or how they were both currently drunk. Or how the last time you’d seen him in this kitchen he’d been bloody and bruised from an altercation.

Probably wouldn’t be helpful at this point.

Instead, you tried to appeal to the logical side of him. “Just with the Digbeth expansion, I’d imagine that can be pretty dangerous.”

You finished the tie of the bandage as you looked back up at him. He was already watching you, his eyes red and glassy, causing the already bright blues to appear more translucent against the candlelight. You noticed how much darker the skin under his eyes were, and couldn’t help but wonder when the last time he slept was.

“You’ve got some on your hands,” he pointed, gently wrapping his hand around your own. He lifted it, revealing the deep red smear on the pad of your hand. He used his good hand to squeeze out the rag and began to clean your palm.

“It’s just blood,” you shrugged, trying not to let on that your heart was racing at the intimacy. “Blood doesn’t scare me, Tommy.”

He looked between your eyes. For a moment you felt like he’d suddenly become sober as he lifted his good hand and gently ran his thumb against your cheek. “It should.”

You swallowed. “Tommy, I—“

“You don’t belong here.”

At his words, you felt your back straighten in defense, not realizing how close you’d been moving in toward him. Your heart began to race even faster as you tried to decipher what exactly he meant.

Part of you knew he must have been talking more in general terms. That you deserved something more than Birmingham in a gambling den with gangsters.

But there was something in the rawness of his words. Something that made you feel like he knew what such a phrase could actually mean to you — that you didn’t belong here, in this time or this place.

“I don’t,” you answered honestly, not helping the sincerity of the words falling from your lips. “But here I am. And here is where I want to be.”

Tommy’s expression remained unreadable as his eyes flicked between both of yours, looking for the lie. His adam’s apple bobbed, then he whispered, “With me?”

The sound of soft whimpering caused you both to jump, turning back toward the kitchen doorway. Katie stopped at the archway, dragging a blanket as she used the end of it to wipe her face.

You rose from your seat to collect the little one — this wasn’t the first time she’d woken up crying since her mother’s passing.

Katie nuzzled her face into your shoulder as you turned back toward the kitchen. Tommy was already standing, putting his arm back in his shirt and grabbing his coat and gun, still slightly uneasy in his footing as he headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Tommy—” you called as the door shut behind him.

—-

The next morning was hectic as everyone prepared for the funeral. You didn’t see the brothers again until that afternoon, John’s eyes red despite the stone expression he kept on his face as everyone offered their condolences.

You felt Tommy’s eyes on you as you both navigated through the house, stealing a few glances at him yourself when he wasn’t looking. Neither of you spoke to the other though, and you were beginning to wonder if he even remembered your conversation the previous night. But each time you found yourself thinking in that direction, you shook your head to remind yourself of the bigger picture of the day.

Polly explained that they would start at Charlie’s Yard and walk the body through the town Martha had grown up in before reaching the graveyard. There, the priest would perform the ceremony. Apparently most of Martha’s family was already gone, so the guests would be mostly John’s family and her friends. After the burial, the Shelbys would return to Charlie’s Yard to burn the caravan filled with Martha’s mementos and pictures. Apparently this was more of a Shelby family tradition, something you were greatly interested in learning more about, at a different time of course.

The preparations reminded you of your recent conversation with Polly over spirits. It got you thinking about the tea Madam Despoina had given you again.

Excusing yourself to get ready for the events of the day, you left the Shelby house to change in your lodgings, doing your best to find something black. The only thing you didn’t have was a hat, but Ada had promised to bring you an extra. Your eyes kept shifting over to your dresser drawer.

It’d been almost a month since you’d received the gift. You’d spent months desperate for an answer as to how or why you were here. And it seemed that just as you were given some sort of clue, some key to unlock something — you were rejecting it. You’d gotten caught up in the found family of the Shelbys and the unshakable pull you felt from Tommy. This new life you’d created for yourself had become a distraction and disassociation of the still very real mystery of your circumstance.

Your eyes moved again to the dresser as you looked over yourself in the mirror. Could the answer be in that cup of tea?

A knock at the door caused you to jump, your heart racing at being caught with your own thoughts. Half expecting Ada with the hat she’d promised, you were surprised when it was Tommy instead who stood on the other side of your door.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood there uncomfortably. He cleared his throat, “Ada wasn’t sure if you’d know where Charlie’s Yard was, so I offered to come collect you.”

“Oh,” you replied, wondering if it was true. “I just need to get my coat then—“

“Tommy? What are you doin’ here?” You heard another man’s voice down the hall as you turned back around to poke your head through the still open door of your apartment.

Benji approached the doorway in a button-up and small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Tommy’s brow creased as he appraised the man, then looked between the flowers and you before his face hardened and back straightened.

“What are you doing here, Benji?”

He smirked, “We were going to get dinner, remember?”

You hadn’t. The man hadn’t even been a speck on your mind the past week.

“I’m sorry, Benji,” you began, your voice sincere, “um— Martha passed away this week. We’re on our way to the funeral, I can’t see you tonight.”

“Oh,” he turned to Tommy. “Right I heard about that. I’m sorry for your loss, mate.”

Tommy shook his head. “Save your condolences for my brother, Hancock. We’re going to be late, if you’ll excuse us.”

Without waiting for you, Tommy began to walk down the hallway toward the exit. You rushed to grab your coat and lock your door behind you before apologizing again to Benji and hustling after Tommy.

“Suppose that answers my question,” was the first thing out of Tommy’s mouth when you finally caught up with him, still looking straight ahead as you both walked down the lane.

“What?”

“Last night—“

“You remember last night?” you asked surprised. He had been really drunk

He scoffed, still not slowing in his walk nor giving you a glance. “I remember a lot of things. Including you telling me you weren’t interested in Hancock.”

“I wasn’t,” you answered, trying to catch your breath.

He scoffed again and your eyes narrowed.

“But then nearly a month went by after you ghosted me so I thought what the hell, give the guy a chance.”

“Ghost?—“

“You told me to stay away—“

“And staying away means being courted by a Peaky Blinder, ya?”

“Courted?” Your brow creased at the use of phrase. “It was going to be one date — just a dinner, we weren’t getting married.”

He rounded on you, pulling you abruptly into an alcove off the sidewalk until your back was against the brick. His eyes bore down at you as the fire returned to his eyes. “Do you know what happens to people who cross me?” He started, his voice lower than it had been moments before. “They lose their ears, their tongues, their eyes. You have no fuckin’ idea who you’re talking to.”

“I do,” you said, your voice just as strong despite the threatening tone of Tommy hovering above you. His eyes simmered for a moment. “You think you’re a monster. Maybe you are— maybe you have to be, maybe you don’t. I don’t care. I said I was going to help you. So shove off with the chauvinistic ‘I’m pushing you away to keep you safe’ bullshit — I don’t want it.”

You surprised yourself at your own words, though you tried to keep your face from showing it. Deep down, you’d always believed what you said, but you hadn’t known exactly to what extent. Did you not care if Tommy Shelby was a monster? No. And you couldn’t shake why.

“You’ll regret it,” he said, his eyes icy once again with the same hint of desperation you saw the night before.

“Not as much as you’ll regret going from ‘I need you’ to ‘stay away from me’—“

He shook his head, finally taking a step back from you. “I was being selfish—“

“Well then be selfish!” You took a step back toward him. “Because dammit, Tommy, I need you too!”

He pulled your body into his so quickly you nearly pushed him away. But your body immediately reacted to the feel of his lips against yours as you pulled yourself in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You broke away first, the whistling of pedestrians on the sidewalk making you remember you weren’t as concealed in this alcove as you thought. Though Tommy didn’t seem to care, his eyes still focused on you as you caught your breath.

“Don’t think just kissing me absolves you from giving a proper explanation for your actions,” you tried to say as serious as you could muster between breaths.

You were still mad at him. He’d put you through a roller coaster of unnecessary emotions the last few weeks. For him to get jealous at the prospects of you moving on? There was something more, you could feel it. And there was no way you were letting him get away with not explaining himself fully before you felt you could open back up to him again.

The corner of his mouth rose in amusement, “Come to the races with me when I return.”

“What?” your brow creased, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward at the prospects of what sounded like a date (you really were delusional when it came to this man).

“I want to take you to the races. Join me?”

You shook your head, “Is this the Tommy Shelby version of an olive branch?”

He smirked, “Maybe. We can talk more then.”

“Deal,” you answered, pulling his smirk into a genuine smile as you both turned back to continue down the sidewalk.

—-

The funeral was beautiful. Honestly, you hadn’t any idea what to expect when Polly talked about the arrangements. But the words, the songs, and the beauty of the traditions had you in tears. John held his children during the entire procession, and gave a lovely send off before lighting the fire.

Despite the grief you were feeling for the family, your brain hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the tea in your bedroom. Tommy had informed you that they’d be wrapping up Digbeth soon, returning properly in a few weeks.

That night was the first night you’d been back in your own apartment. The first thing you did was open your dresser drawer and remove the box.

You left it on your counter top as you started the fireplace, then the kettle. As you reached for the tea cup, you wondered if it was smart to be alone while you did this. You were, after all, still about sixty percent sure that the old tea was just going to give you either a stomach ache or seizure. But, you guessed that was better than the ninety-nine percent that you’d been at upon first receiving.

You gently removed the leaves and vial of water, following the instructions from Madam Despoina as you made your cup.

Holding the warm tea in your hands, you made the last minute decision to sit on the floor — reasoning that if you collapsed or something, at least you wouldn’t have as far to go.

You settled on the rug, inhaled deeply, closed your eyes, then brought the edge of the cup to your mouth.

You could feel the hot water run through your throat, then down to your chest before the warmth began to spread through your arms and hands, down to your stomach, then legs, then toes.

With your eyes still closed, you sat for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

When nothing did, you took another sip. Again, nothing happened.

Sighing, you sent a small thank you to whomever was listening that you at least didn’t go into any kind of shock, then opened your eyes.

“Hello, darling.”

>> next chapter <;< chapter masterlist

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stuckyrogersbarnes · 5 months

Text

Step Uncle (Loki, bucky, & y/n smut)

Warnings: bi!loki, bi!bucky, double penetration, daddy kink, *step*uncle, sub!loki, dom!bucky.

[if you feel uncomfortable towards any of the warnings given above, please leave. Don't spread hate. If you do, you're comment will be deleted and if it occurs a second time, you will be blocked. This is not incest, no one in this sex scene is blood-related.]

Word count: 1.3k

Female reader

You groan as you wake up from your slumber. Although, it wasn't really a 'slumber,' since you hardly slept at all. You were in your second year of university, it wasn't that tough. It's just super time-consuming. You were still living with your mom and her new husband (ugh). He was quite the pain in the ass. And please, let's not get started on his brother, James, who is living with us for 4 months. Okay, fine, yes, Barnes is hot, like super hot, but he gets on your nerves and that pisses you off.

"Morning Mum." you yawn and go to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. "Good morning sweetheart...Uh, Y/n?" "Yes, mother?" you look at her. Oh god, what is it now? "Your father and I are going for a trip, to the Bahamas, for four days." she chuckles. "Cool, when?" "Uh, the flight is in 8 hours. I'm so sorry honey, I just forgot to tell you an-" "Mom. I'm a full-grown adult. It's fine, I can take care of myself. Relax." You reassure her. "Oh sweetie, no. Bucky will be here to help in case anything goes wrong." "What? mom! I'm nineteen!" I whine, "I know darling but he's already here so..." she shrugs. "Ugh. Fine."

-Time jump (it's now 9 pm and you're in your room)-

"Okay, safe travels." You hang up. Your mom had seated in the plane and was about to take off. You dial someone else's number, "Hello?" "Hi, darling. I was wondering when you would call." you could hear him smirk. "You free right now? Come over." "Yes ma'am. I'll be there in 10." he hangs up.

Soon, you hear the doorbell ring. He doesn't even give you a minute before his mouth latches onto yours. You moan against his lips, "Loki," you bite his lip. "I missed you, darling." he picks you up and latches his lips on the soft spot on your neck, "Fuck," you whisper. He lays you down on the couch in the living room, "Loki, what if James catches us?" "You'll just have to be quiet then won't you, love?" You nod. "Good girl," he smirks. He crawls on top of you and removes your white crop top. He groans at the sight of your black push-up bra. "Turn" "Yes-" "Yes what, baby?" "y-yes Daddy." you stutter. "good girl." you turn to your back and feel Loki's warm, wet tongue licking the bottom of your spine, slowly going up. You try to hold back your moan as he sucks small hickeys on the back of your neck. He hooks his teeth on the hook of your bra and unhooks it in one swift go. You moan. He slowly slides his way down to your boxer shorts and yanks them off with his teeth. "Loki. I really liked them." you whine, "I'll buy you a new pair sweetheart." You groan as he licks up your slit, "fuck, Loki." He breathes in your scent, "Fuck you smell so good, y/n." he sucks on your clit as one of his fingers enters your wet hole. You moan. "Daddy, right there, ugh, yes." You scream as he enters another finger. "Shh, you don't want him to catch us, do you?" You shake your head. He keeps thrusting while sucking on your swollen clit. You're almost there, right there. He adds another finger and you lose it, completely. Your hole begins to pulsate on his fingers.

You open your eyes, riding out of the wonderous orgasm Loki just gave you, You gasp at what you see, James, leaning against the doorframe of the living room door. You bite your lip at him, still riding out. Your eyes flutter and Bucky smirks. Once you're out of the orgasm, you process what's actually happening right now. Barnes. Sex. Living Room. Orgasm. You cover your mouth in shock. "what happened, love?" Loki slides up to your face. He chuckles when he sees what you do, "James. Want to join?" Your breath hitches. What? He struts towards you. "I think Y/n deserves punishment for having sex in a shared area while her step-uncle is staying over. What do say hmm?" "Oh, I think she does." Loki smirks. You look up at Barnes with doe eyes and nod, taken aback by his gigantic bulge poking out of his jeans. Bucky chuckles, "Slut." For some reason, even though you never really liked degrading and Loki never degraded you, you got even wetter as he said that.

Loki crawls towards Bucky and unzips his jeans. He pulls down his boxers as you sit on your buttock and begin to circle your swollen clit. Bucky's cock was thick and long, just how you liked it. Loki grabbed Bucky's ass cheeks and pulled him towards himself. Loki started licking Bucky's length and sucked on the tip of Bucky's head. "Doll, keep your hands where I can see them. Now." Bucky orders. You groan and put your hands on each side of you. Loki takes in the whole of Bucky's length, something you were sure you could never do.

Seeing your boyfriend suck a dick was much more arousing than you thought it would be. You moan as you dip beneath Loki and begin to suck his dick, unable to fit the whole length in your mouth. Loki pushes into you, it makes you choke and tear up, mascara running down your face. You moan onto Loki's dick, making him moan onto Bucky's. Bucky grabs your boob from underneath and pinches your nipple, making you cry out. "Daddy, please let me come." "No." bucky and Loki both say in unison.

You hear Bucky pull out of Loki's mouth. Before you can react, Loki abruptly lifts you up and enters you without any hesitation or time for you to think. You scream in pain and pleasure. "Oh, she's loud, huh?" "Oh, yeah," Loki replies. He begins to thrust as Bucky starts walking behind him. "Up. both of you." You both listen to what he says and slowly stand up, finding it hard not to collapse on the floor. "Y/n, baby, come sit on my dick," Bucky says as he lies down. "Y-yes daddy," you say, doe-eyed. "Loki, once she's comfortable, enter the same hole, from behind." "Yes, daddy." He replies. You slowly climb onto your step-uncle's large dick and slowly thrust down. You moan, "fuck." "gosh, y/n, you're so fucking tight," He growls "Can you move, baby?" You nod, biting your lip trying to hold back your orgasm. "Move." You begin to move slowly, closing your eyes, boobs jumping up and down. You feel another dick at the entrance of your full hole. How is that supposed to fit? Loki doesn't give you a chance to say anything before he plunges into you, you clench and blackout, only seeing white spots everywhere. You come all over both their cocks.

It took you one solid minute before you could finally open your eyes. "Can we move now, sweetheart?" Loki asks. "Yes please," you say, dying for another release, already on edge. They both begin to thrust, all three of you moaning. "Daddy... Fuck." you shudder. Bucky places his thumb on your pussy and presses it down, making your third orgasm much stronger than ever before. As you ride out of your climax, you feel warm liquid oozing out of your pussy. They had come too.

After cleaning up, bucky runs to you, panicking, "Y/n! We didn't use protection." You laugh, "Something funny? What if I got you pregnant?" "I'm on birth control, silly." "Oh, thank god," Bucky says in relief. "One more round?" Loki asks. You both nod.

#loki fanfiction #loki smut #loki laufeyson #winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #female reader #marvel #marvel smut

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loganshouseofworship · 2 months

Text

Daffodils the symbol of new beginnings and in this case a second chance — Pierre Gasly x Leclerc!reader

If Pierre was being honest with himself he hated himself. He hated the fact that he had hurt you, one of the most important people in his life. Pierre hated that he left you on his own alone pregnant with his daughter. Pierre was terrified he had gotten his best friend's baby sister pregnant and bolted when he found out. Even though Pierre wasn’t directly present throughout your pregnancy he still gets updates from your socials and Charles.

Charles he didn’t know who your baby daddy was and he wasn’t going to pressure you into telling him who he was. Charles had faith that one day you’ll come out and tell him all on your own deep down Charles knew who the father was. Charles was ecstatic about becoming an uncle; he couldn't wait to meet the little girl and spoil his niece.

Pierre has been watching your social for updates on you and the baby since your announcement. He’s still shocked that you haven’t said his name, and he’s still scared shitless that if he shows his face that there would be problems. He’s trying to get the balls to reach out and apologize. He wants to be there for you and his daughter.

The closer you get to your due date, the more Pierre gets nervous. He knows he has to reach out and tell you how sorry he is, but his anxiety is through the roof just thinking of reaching out. He doesn't know how you'll react. He doesn't want to cause any drama, but he knows he has to step up and be there for his daughter.

He takes a deep breath and picks up his phone to text you for the first time since you’re told him you were pregnant. His finger hovers over the message button, but he can’t seem to bring himself to press send and send the text

He finally takes a deep breath and presses send on the text. Once he sends it, his heart is pounding. He's waiting for you to respond and is hoping you'll reach out to him so you can both have an adult conversation about the situation.

He waits a few minutes, and when he doesn't hear back from you he starts to sweat. He checks his phone again and again, hoping to hear back from you. His mind starts to spiral and he wonders if he made the right choice and if you'll even want to talk to him at all.

His phone finally buzzes and he's startled by the notification. He sees that you have responded to his text. His heart starts beating faster as he opens the message and reads what you have to say.

He feels relieved when he sees your response and that you're open to talking to him, but he's still anxious about what will happen next. He replies back and you two start talking about what happened between the two of you and how to move forward now that you're having a baby together.

The conversation starts off rocky and tense but eventually becomes more open and honest. He’s finally able to open up about how he's been feeling and the guilt he's been carrying around. You’re able to express how hurt and overwhelmed you felt when he left.

Eventually you both come to a mutual understanding and agree to move forward with coparenting. Pierre realizes how much he missed having you in his life and how much he cares about you. He apologizes profusely for his behavior in the past and promises to be present going forward.

You agree to move forward as well, and the two of you decide that it would be best for your daughter if you can both be involved in her life. You both promise to work together to provide the best life possible for your child and to always keep her best interests at heart.

Pierre feels a mixture of relief and joy at the thought of being involved in his daughter's life. He's excited to meet her and to finally be a part of her life. He realizes that the past can't be changed, but he's committed to making things right and being the best father he can be.

You feel relieved as well that you and Pierre were able to have an open and honest conversation and that both of you are willing to work together for the sake of your child. Despite past hurt and disappointment, you're both committed to giving your daughter a happy and stable environment.

When the day came, Pierre was both nervous and excited. Originally he was going to meet you at your home. Pierre even went and got flowers. He didn’t want to get any flowers, he wanted something to symbolize second chances. So he went and did some research and found out that Daffodils represent second chances. It was perfect.

It was almost too perfect because you sent him a message saying that you were in labor and going to the hospital. Pierre read your message with growing panic. He couldn't believe it was happening so quickly. The last time he saw you, you weren't even showing yet. Everything was happening so quickly, and he felt completely unprepared for the monumental moment that was quickly approaching.

So with that Pierre hightailed it to the hospital he wasn’t going to leave you alone again or his daughter.

Pierre made the drive to the hospital as quickly as he could and practically ran into the building. When he got there he quickly checked in at reception and asked for your room number. He couldn't even take the time to buy a present or think about anything else. He just wanted to be there for you and his child.

Rushing into the room you were in he found you surrounded by a doctor and a couple nurses with your brother by your side.

Pierre stopped in his tracks as he entered the room. He saw you, surrounded by medical personnel, and his brother standing by your side. He couldn't believe that this was really happening. His head was spinning a million miles an hour, but he had to remain calm and in control.

“I’m here” Pierre said out of breath holding the daffodils that he got for you.

All heads turn to look at Pierre when he suddenly spoke up. Everyone stops what they're doing and turns to look at him as he enters the room with the daffodils. Pierre is out of breath but he manages to hold the flowers in his hands. He tries to remain calm as he says he's here holding up the daffodils, which he selected specifically for their meaning of second chances.

Charles is the first one to speak up. “Looks like someone’s here just in time," Charles says with a slight smile. Charles knows that Pierre is probably regretting not being there earlier in the pregnancy, but he’s happy that Pierre is here now and wants to try to be there for his sister and niece.

“You knew?” Pierre asked shocked

Charles nods. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t notice the mood swings and stuff?” Charles says jokingly. Charles knows that his best friend is the father of his baby sister’s child, but he respects his sister’s wish to keep things private for now. Charles also realizes how important it is for his baby sister that Pierre is here and that he cares enough to want to be involved despite the circumstances.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to come over here and support her?” Charles asked

Pierre turns his attention to you as Charles speaks. He can’t help but smile faintly when he hears Charles calling him out. Pierre realizes that he’s been standing there like a deer in headlights, and he quickly moves over to your side, reaching out to take your hand. Pierre's nerves are still on edge, but he's doing his best to remain calm and supportive.

After a few hours of labor, you finally deliver a healthy baby daughter. The two of you have agreed on the name Daphnia, which Pierre also thinks is very appropriate, considering how daffodils symbolize second chances. Pierre is amazed by how beautiful and perfect his daughter is and can't help but be in awe of you as you brought this precious life into the world.

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z0-ne · 9 months

Text

Fish eyes (!PLATONIC! UNCLE ILLUMI X CHILD READER + FATHER KILLUA)

This story is based off the illumi portion of THIS scenario! I know a lot of ppl like to think in the future he'd be better and suddenly understands what he did was wrong but like- what if he doesn't???

!warning!~ This story includes, stalking, kidnapping, hurt no comfort, child abuse and some gore.

READ WITH CAUTION!~ illumi is NOT a good person in this story.

Being one of the children of one of the greatest accomplishments in the zoldyck family is a blessing on one hand.

Your father doesn't follow in his own father's footsteps, something you are grateful for, your mother the same. Both assasins within their own right have taken another path with children of their own.

They're loving parents, well, as loving as they can be with the emotional damage they've received, specifically your mother. She's sweet in her own way, but if you had to pick between who was more playful and affectionate it would be your father for sure..

You always assumed it was because she's paranoid, of who? You have no idea, but you do overhear your parents conversate over someone you can only assume to be a bother to them. Sometimes your Uncle Gon would visit as well and be included in the conversation after dark.

Its ominous, you've never heard everything they said, because you would always end up having to sneak out before they mention a name, but you do know that there may be more than one person.

Its nothing to worry too much about right now though, you're still young, and you have two of the strongest people yet as your parents, not to mention your auntie alluka who tries to keep tabs on you all at all times, and your uncle Gon just in case you get lost.

Of course that is if you ever make it outside the mansion grounds, but you never travel that far. As the second youngest of six siblings, you have a lot of people on your back, watching you and making sure you don't wonder too far off.

It makes you wonder what's beyond that, why security suddenly got so strict, then again right now you're only seven, maybe it'll loosen up a bit as you get older, but it is odd. Your oldest sister said things didn't use to be like this.

You tried asking why, first your father but he just told you 'you're too young right now, stay here were you're safe' and rubs his thumb over your forehead to brush off the question. Then your mother, but of course she basically does the same, saying it's best to stay here. Even auntie alluka seems hesitant to tell you much of anything.

Uncle Gon is out of the question, he tells you about all the big creepy monsters out there, some are gross, like the evil giant bugs that roam around, or some gross snail person that leaves a trail of slime that leads to nowhere. Uncle Gon is like reinforcement to make sure you don't get curious about wondering.

Sometimes it works, other times you think you can take those monsters head on. It makes you more curious about the world outside that your oldest sister and her friend travel freely.

You tried asking her about it, since she travels with a girl who trains under your uncle's wing. She's not his daughter but she looks and acts so much like him from what your father told you about them back when they were your sisters age.

Unfortunately, they just share a look of worry then mask it up with a smile and tell you that your far to young to know.

On one hand its a blessing being a child of one of the Zoldycks greatest accomplishments...on the other...it's a curse.

_______________________________

Asking those older didn't seem to work out well, and you were weighing your options on asking your second older sibling, he's usually outside, fiddling with a drone he built, to gaze at the world outside and scope out where he'll go next.

Ultimately you decided to approach him and ask the question. "Why isn't it safe outside the mansions security?" Its an innocent question overall, maybe switching it up a bit will get them to answer.

He glances at you from over his shoulder and grunts a response. "What did dad tell ya?" you furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. Him brushing you off like you're a bother doesn't help answer your question.

"Come ooon...tell me." You said, somewhat demanding but also putting in a hint of annoyance in there as well as you pull at his sleeve.

"No way! If dad already told ya then forget it, go play over there or somethin!" He says as he moves his sleeve away from you and points over to a tree a few steps away from you with a frustrated expression..

Glaring up at him you huff but shrug as you stuff your little hands in your pocket and go over to the tree he pointed you towards. 'Stupid brother...' you think to yourself as you kick a rock. Its frustrating not being told anything.

Then, as you kicked the rock again you noticed something...it's small but you see something odd in the corner of your eye a weird figure, black floating all around it, little specks of green and yellow...since it's so far you can't see much else so you ignore it.

Your focus is not being able to figure out what's really outside the mansion walls, you want to know.

__________________________

'A curious lil thing' is what your uncle gon would always say, maybe it was because you were curious. It was why you were running from your nanny to the front gate right now.

Both parents out, your oldest sister on a trip of sorts with her friend and your brother in his room somewhere.

You've thought about it many times and honestly, when you get to the gate...climbing it seems like the best option, and you throw your caution into the wind.

You know you can climb this even at your age you've climbed higher trees. So you hoist yourself up and look back to see how far behind your nanny is, and you hear her call out your name but her voice leaves an echo behind, you giggle and continue up the wall.

It doesn't take long for you to make your way completely over and you take a look around, its...more forest? No worries, you keep running, curious about what lies ahead of those trees.

"(NAME) please! Come back it isn't safe!" You hear your nanny call out for the upteenth time but can only giggle as yyou keep running, your childlike delight and innocence not picking up on the danger you were about to be in.

You take a few turns here and there, until suddenly something feels...off...the playful atmosphere you had just moments ago replaced with something...scary...

Running comes to a halt, and you take a look around as to where you are. Your arms at your side and hands balled up, you don't recognize it.. the trees are taller...much taller than you remember, and when you look up all you see is leafs...covering everything.

"Huh..? Nana Misa?" You stand up straight and call out,, as you try and retrace your steps from where you are, but something about that feels wrong too.

Its not until you feel a pit in your stomach, your heartbeat picks up and ththere'a sudden shortening in your breathing that you quickly turn around...and there's some...stranger...

Very long, black hair, as black as the night sky...probably darker than that. Skin painfully pale, almost as pale as snow...and those eyes, they're pitch black and they remind you of a fishes eyes...

You once again, stand up straight your hands out of your pocket now stuffed inside them again as you look up at the strange man. "hey...who are you?" You question with a tilt of your head, despite that unnerving feeling you got from him earlier.

He stares at you, those unblinking eyes seem to stare into your soul as he doesnt say anything for the longest time.

"You're just like him..." The strange man speaks, and his voice is smooth like butter but just as unsettling as his appearance, its like looking at one of those creepy characters from a scary movie your oldest sister use to watch.

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Despite your fear you try and mask it with false confidence and a demanding tone.

"I won't make the same mistake twice..." A large hand attatchef to one of his long lanky arms reached out to grab you, and it was like you just froze.

What is this..? This feeling? You can't move, you know you should jump back,, swat his hand away, bite, kick, scream do something to prevent him from grabbing you but you can't. Your brain screaming for you to move away but your body isn't responding.

Its like you're in a trance...a terrible...terrifying trance that's taking over your entire body, freezing it in cold unexplainable fear...

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" A shout, a familiar voice snaps you out of that trance, and you see her, who you believed to be your savior.

"Nana! Nana Misa!!" You don't know what happened but all of a sudden you felt your body and your mind get back in order,, and you dashed over to her, hot tears rolling down your face as you rushed to her and gripped onto her dress, burying your face into it and smudging tears all over the white cloth.

Her hands made their way to caress your head, gentle, warm, comforting and overall protective. Its so familiar, you were always being protected and now is no different...

"Oh...An obstacle... How unfortunate..."

Except it is different.

The man from before, you turn your head to look at him. That tone, nothing behind it but evil...its so scary...you want to look away, but when you feel your nanny's hands begin to tremble, you look up and see her face painted with the same fear yours was, the only difference is that she has some resolve.

"Please...(Name)...run..." her voice trembles....you had never heard her voice tremble before up until now, and it only intensifies your fear

"Nana...?" A crack...there's a crack in your tone, from confident to worry...you've never heard her usually soft calm kind voice tremble, you've never seen such a look of fear in her eyes, sure you've seen concern or worry but never...fear...not like this.

"I said run!" A sudden yell from her and you look up in surprise. She yells at you, not once breaking contact with the man with fishy eyes.

You try to protest, but she shoves you to the side when he steps forward. From there on it all happened so fast... you didn't even have time to run.

"Stay away!!" You hear her yell out, watching the scene in slow motion as she takes a dagger from her sleeve, and raises it above her head, in preparation to strike.

The man however just stand there...those fishy eyes...standing there...watching her as she prepares to slam the blade down upon him.

Why can't you move?

In an instant, he walks past her, and your nanny stops. She stops and doesn't move for awhile, before suddenly she falls to her knees, eyes wide tears at the sides threatening to spill, her lips parted and her eyebrows still furrowed...

Then all you see is red...

Dark red...crimson...it spits from her neck...when did he cut her? it spills out like a sprinkler on the sink, like thick water it spurts from her neck and her entire body jolts around limply.

You stare on horrified, not even noticing the man approach you, not hearing him..let along seeing him reach out to grab you.

The blood spurts from her neck for what feels like hours, covering the once green grass beneath her and painting it red...her body jolts around aimlessly before it slumps limp to the ground with a sickening thud.

Loose pink hairs fall over her pale face, dark red blood drips from her once pink lips and her uniform, the once white apron now dirty with what could be blood and mud.

You can't speak...you can't move, you only look on hopelessly as she lays there...watching her hand twitch...once...maybe twice before nothing...

"I won't make the same mistake twice..."

Then a cold feeling overwhelmed you, a cold feeling of someone grabbing your arm, their grip was rough, not even bothering to handle you with some gentleness like your father and mother or even uncle gon. Its not warm like them or Nanny Misa. Its cold and rough,but you can't move or even resist as it begins lifting you up.

You hang there like a rag doll as you stare at the corpse, the corpse of someone you cared deeply for, like she was an extension of your mother, an aunt of sorts. now just a corpse and through that unnatural coldness...you fell warm tears fall down your face...

"Nana...Nana!!" Your voice echoes, but not enough,, it cracked and you reached out to the body but it was too late.

It was too late for anything, because that strange man was already on the move, running with you like some rag doll, carelessly like you were less than a human.

He stops infront of a car, a limbo, its long and black, pitch black like his eyes and hair, and as you sob he sighs like he's frustrated with it and throws you in the car and climbs in himself..

"Oh a crier, how dreadful...~" another voice says with an odd tone, expaserated and dramatic.its just as unsettling as the other man who threw you into the car.

You can't see through your blurry eyes and the heavy tears that fall out of them,but you can tell that it's a long drive...a long... draining drive because the one who called you dreadful made hints at shutting you up for good. The man that kidnapped you however immediately shut it down.

Eventually the car did stop, and it was time to leave the car, which threw you into a big hysterical fit. You kicked your legs, swung your arms and screamed and cried as the man tries to find an opportunity to grab you..

"Your struggling is useless." That cold voice points out as he grabs your arm and yanks you out the car, forcibly dragging you through what seems to be the woods.

Your sobbing doesn't stop, like you're hoping your parents will hear you, uncle gon, your sister...anyone... maybe you had even hoped the man would have some mercy and return you.

However as they kept walking and there was yet another heavy sigh from the other man with the off voice you figured that it was much too late to be returned.

A loud creak could be heard then a slam, the immediate feeling of a cold breeze hit your face and if you weren't scared before you definitely are now..

Your cries get louder, echoing through the halls as the man holding your hand firmly simply walks, his heels clicking against the hardwood floors, dangling you above the ground from his height alone.

Then it stops. Another loud creak of a door as he lifts you up by your arm to make eye contact with him but your too scared, still crying. He sighs.

"Since you won't calm down ill have you stay here until you stop being so hysterical." His voice blank and empty of any sympathy as he tosses you in the room.

You land on the cold hard floor with a loud thud,, your body throbs in pain as you snap your head up and look to the door,, you quickly stand up run over only for him to slam the door shut, a loud bang following.

"NO!" You scream out, scratching at the door, twisting and yanking at the knob, and you even went as far as to slam your body against it..

In the end however...nothing worked... jt just left your little body sore and you're heart torn to pieces as you realize you can't get out... and you were back to where you were before, sinking to your knees, sobbing as you call out to anyone who could help...your father...your mother...uncle gon...your sister...your brother.

The thought of never getting back home...it brings you to your knees as you sob loudly for them, hoping they'll come...come and take you home..

^___Bonus! ^-^________^

Letting out a heavy sigh, Killua slumps back on the side of the ship he and his wife boarded, a trip back home after a weeks work of work. It was exhausting but going home to see his kids would be pretty rewarding, he brought gifts back as well.

His hair grew in the back so he pulled it into a low pony tail but other than that the front remains the same. He looks out into the distance and suddenly his eyes twitch a bit.

"Something...feels wrong..." he mumbles under his breath, but he doesn't know what...not yet at least.

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 11 months

Text

You're waiting for a train...(2)

To Build Cathedrals

Robert Fischer x reader, Arthur x reader (if you squint)

description - You leave your dad to go look for a new architect as you and Arthur set up the workspace. But your mind is plagued with dreams of its own.

word count - 2.7k (ooo we're getting bigger)

warnings - allusions to sexual assault, mentions of death, allusion to child abuse

a/n - This chapter looks more into how y/n's mind is shaped much like her father's and we also see a hint of Arthur and y/n's relationship (and yes it is weird that she sees him as her uncle). I've realised this is gonna be a slow burn for Robert x reader because of the chronology of the inception plot I'm trying to follow; I promise it'll be worth it!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dad and I stood as statues outside the university. It all felt so familiar from my youth but when I walked through, I felt as absent as a stranger.

“He’ll want to see you.”

“I’ll leave the conversation to you. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I know what he thinks of me. You didn’t have a choice, I did. In his eyes, I chose wrong.”

Dad let his arm rest on my shoulder in a silent act of comfort. I sucked back the tears, so he thought I was okay. The reality was I wanted nothing more than to run in there and jump into my grandads arms. But I couldn’t, in good fait,h knowing he thought of me as the girl who abandoned her siblings for no life at all.

I wiped away a rogue tear.

“Anyways, Arthur needs me to help him set up. But I’ll be waiting at the warehouse, okay. And I promise I won’t leave to go anywhere without Arthur.” I raised my hand to cup his cheek, so he felt the sincerity of my words. I went to leave my father to his search.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone as good as you were.”

Without turning back, I shouted. “Find someone better!”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Cobb’s pov*

“You never did like your office.” Dad raised his head surprised to hear my voice, even more shocked to see my body.

“No space to think in that broom cupboard.” He quipped. “Is it safe for you to be here? Where’s y/n?”

“Extradition between France and the USA is a bureaucratic nightmare. Y/n is fine, she’s with Arthur.”

“I think they might find a way to make it work in your case.”

I made my way down and sat the meek gesture of toys on his desk.

“Look, y/n bought these, she thought the kids would like them. Saw them in Amsterdam.”

“It’s gonna take more than the occasional stuffed animal to remind those kids that they still have a father…and a sister. Y/n knows that.”

“She’s trying her best. She wants to make the best out of the situation she’s in.”

“The situation you put her in.” His voice became stern, and I cowered like a small boy.

“It was her choice. She said that she couldn’t let me go just like that.”

“She was your child; you shouldn’t have let her have the choice in the first place. The choice was life or death and you let her choose death just so you could imagine you still had a family and that it all hadn’t crumbled before you.”

“Yes. I am being selfish because I like that she’s still with me. I like having her here because without her I couldn’t cope.”

“You let her follow you into this life and it seems she suffers the consequences the most.”

“She told you?”

“She told grandma.”

“What the projections or the subjects do is unpredictable. Sometimes they respond to the presence put in front of them, in her case, a beautiful young girl.”

He looks down, ashamed of what he’s hearing.

“Look I’m just doing what I know. I’m doing what you taught me.”

“I never taught you to be a thief.”

“No, you taught me to navigate people’s minds. But after what happened, there weren’t a whole lot of legitimate ways to do that.”

He suddenly felt the meaning of my visit and retreated back into his chair. He punctuated the silence.

“What are you doing here, Dom?” I paused, wondering how to phrase this without inviting a lot of questions.

“I think we found a way home. It’s a job for some very very powerful people. People who I believe can fix my charges permanently. But I need your help.”

“You’re here to corrupt one of my best and brightest.” He taunted me by brandishing the end of his pen.

“You know what I’m offering, you have to let them decide for themselves.”

“Money.”

“Not just money. You remember, the chance to build cathedrals, entire cities, things that never existed. Things that couldn’t exist in the real world.”

“So, you want me to let someone else, follow you into your fantasy.”

“They won’t actually come into the dream. They just design the levels and teach them to the dreamers.”

“Design it yourself.”

“Mal won’t let me.” I saw his face droop at the mention of her. Already sighing at the sight of my delusion.

“What about y/n, she was always better than you were anyway.”

“She refuses. She’ll help with a maze or a paradox occasionally when she gets bored of our architects incompetence, but she won’t build herself anymore. I don’t know why. She won’t tell me.” He sat forward in his chair. Eyes pleading with me to bring y/n home.

“Come back to reality. Please.”

“Those kids are waiting for their father and sister to come home. That’s their reality. This job-this last job- that’s how we get there. I would not be standing here if I knew another way. I need an architect who is as good as I was.”

“I’ve got someone better.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Ariadne?” A perky petite girl runs to meet Miles’ inviting hand. “I’d like you to meet Mr Cobb.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“If you have a few moments, Mr Cobb has a job offer he’d like to discuss with you.”

“A work placement?”

“Not exactly.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your pov*

I made it to the warehouse and walked in to see Arthur fiddling with different pieces of equipment.

“You look funny handling tech equipment in that suit.” I loudly teased to get his attention.

He turned towards me with a smile. “Thought you’d be with Cobb and the new recruit.”

“He can do it without me; besides I didn’t fancy the third degree from grandad.”

“He’s just protective. This job isn’t exactly made for you.”

“What? You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“Oh, don’t worry I know you can. The scar on my eye proves it.” We laughed together in a way we hadn’t done in a while. I’d always found comfort around Arthur. When I first left with my dad, I was young and innocent. I had no idea what I’d signed up for. So, once we started working with Arthur I began to loosen up a little as I felt I had someone I could truly trust. Yes, there were people like Eames who came around for the odd job and who I could rely on on the mission. But Arthur was different. I trusted him in a way that encapsulated my whole heart.

We began to unpack the equipment, preparing for when dad would be back to introduce the new recruit to dream-walking. I had just found some old deck chairs stuffed at the back that I dragged to the centre. They made a horrible squeak as the metal scraped on concrete.

“Are you okay?” Arthur pondered.

“Yeah why?”

“Just after Nash and that last job, I worried you would shut down.”

“This could be Dad’s chance to clear his name, I got no time to shut down.” I put on a confidence and winked his way before punching his arm as I passed for good measure.

“Anyways,” I spoke facing the window. “It’s not like I’ve not dealt with that before. It’s old news.”

“I know.” Arthur said solemnly, refusing to look my way. “But you shouldn’t.”

“Well, it happened, it happens, and it’s going to happen again.” I giggled through my tear-filled eyes. I felt Arthur’s presence behind me, bringing me into the lightest hug.

“You know I’m here for you. And if you don’t want to tell your dad when it happens, that’s fine but promise you’ll at least tell me. You know I love giving a guy a good punch, especially on your behalf.”

I turned around in his arms and found our noses almost touching.

“Thank you, Arthur. My knight in shining armour.” I could see the muscles in his neck strain as he very gently leaned in. I copied and moved until our lips softly grazed.

*SCREEEEECH*

We jumped back from each other, in a spook.

“That’ll be them I guess.” I quickly fled the scene and brushed my fingers against my lips. That was about to happen, wasn’t it?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ariadne gasped as she awoke. Her eyes were flamed, and her pupils darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. The music bubbled throughout the room adding a flare of theatrics to the situation. This was her second time under, so I assumed her jerk meant she hadn’t woken up in the most pleasant way.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Arthur quickly reassured her. Calming her down through gentle caresses.

“Why didn’t I wake up?”

I answered whilst making sure Dad was okay. “Because there was still time on the clock, and you can’t wake up from a dream unless you die.”

“She’ll need a totem.” Dad announced, already leaving the room.

“Dad give her a minute, geez.”

“What? Dad? Wait what?” Ariadne was shaken and looked between Cobb, and I confused.

“A totem it’s a small, personal-“

“That’s some subconscious you’ve got on you, Cobb! She’s a real charmer.”

“Ah I see you met my mom.”

“She’s, his wife?” She asked breathlessly, looking up at me. I nodded sadly.

“So, a totem, you need a small object, potentially heavy, something you can have on you all the time.” Ariadne covered her eyes to mentally acknowledge what she had just been through. I knew none of Arthur’s words were registering. It was too soon. She needed to go away so she can see how addicting it feels. I remembered my first time. I was so scared, but it was a delicious fear. “Something that no one else knows.”

“Like a coin?”

“No, it needs to be more unique than that. Like this is a loaded die,” Arthur brought out his totem, similar to mine. “I can’t let you touch it, see that would defeat the purpose. Only I know the balance and the weight of this loaded die. That way when you look at your totem, you know that you’re not in someone else’s dream.” I stuck my hand in my pocket to feel my own. It was a picture of me, James, and Philippa but it has a small mistake on it. In the picture I have braces, when in reality I’ve never worn them.

I left Arthur and Ariadne to talk and went to check on my dad. He had the spinning top again. We both watched it spin out, helpless to do anything else. When it fell, he loudly exhaled. I knew he had to do it, I just didn’t know why.

We both re-joined Arthur to find that the girl had left. It was probably all too much for such little time. And any run in with Mal’s projection would make anyone uneasy.

“She’ll be back. I’ve never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before.”

“I’ll try not to be offended.” I said with a smirk. Dad kissed my forehead. “Of course, except you, sweetie.”

“Reality’s not gonna be enough for her now, I remember the feeling.”

“When she comes back, you’re gonna have her building mazes.”

“Where are you gonna be?”

“I gotta go visit Eames.” I quietly clapped and celebrated in the corner. Eames was my favourite person to work with and we’ve always had a great partnership since our first time when I was only 15. He was the one who taught me impersonation and forgery, much to my dad’s admiration. If Arthur was like my uncle, then Eames was my rebellious older brother, letting me get away with anything I wanted.

“Eames? No, he’s in Mombasa, it’s Cobol’s backyard.”

“It’s a necessary risk.”

“Well, there’s plenty of good thieves.”

“We don’t just need a thief. We need a forger.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Arthur had reluctantly gone home for the night. I promised him I would be fine sleeping in the warehouse since my dad was away. He didn’t trust me, but he knew he couldn’t argue with me. I mean I didn’t lie. I did want to sleep.

I got myself comfortable on the deck chair and let the sedative seep into my veins.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*your dream space*

I opened my eyes in the lobby of the hotel. Over the years I had fashioned my subconscious in this specifically navigable layout. I could bury things on different floors, and revisit things in different rooms.

It was empty. Just how I liked it. Projections of your mind are easier to get rid of than you think. I clipped my heels all the way down to the large metal elevator. I entered into the 1920s style tiled lift and looked at the numbers. -3, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, 3.

My painted finger pressed harshly down into ‘1’.

The lift rung to life and pushed me up into the crevices of my mind. And as quickly as it started the doors were back open on to a brightly lit white corridor. The hall was as clean and perfect as I wanted to keep these memories. I opened up the door ‘101’.

Inside I saw James, Philippa and I dancing at the beach. As my projection pushes her feet through the sand, I curl my toes as I feel it soft beneath me. We are running about playing a game of tig as mom and dad look on from the picnic blanket laid out with food. The colours have faded like an old photograph, and I struggle to make out the different faces.

I decided to jump ahead a little and reach for room ‘111’.

I walk hand in hand down a beautifully decorated woodland path. Mom and dad flank me on either side. I stand tall, a child of 11, in the midst of my very own dream. That was the first time. Like the previous one it’s colours have all but gone.

I hurry back into the elevator and change the floor to number ‘2’.

This floor is harshly painted yellow, and its lights flicker incessantly. I trudge down the disgustingly patterned carpet to room ‘204’. My hand questions itself as it reaches for the handle. The door flies open into the living room of our house. I stand face to face with my mother in all her beauty. She is shouting.

“You are not my daughter; don’t you think I’d know if you were.”

My young voice shakes as it answers. “Mom, please, it’s me. You have to believe me.”

“You. Are. Not. Real.”

Her hand grasps the kitchen knife and raises it. I slam the door shut and hear the yelp of my self projection. I wait to calm my heavy breathing. I don’t want to remember her like this but it’s the only room she frequents now.

My limp body returns to the lift, and I finally reach for ‘3’. The box whirrs to life and almost gently raises me up into the final floor. This is my newest creation, where I store the unexplained and the prophetic.

I walk out onto the beautiful sage green corridor, adorned with expensive antique decorations. I make my way to room ‘301’. The door softly creaks open, and my eyes are blinded by a white light filtering in from an open window. The transparent net curtain hinders my eyeline. But in front of me I see the silhouette of a man. He is only wearing a pair of briefs and I am able to make out the lean but structured outline of his body. His hair is thick and luscious. A few chocolate strands have fallen to kiss his sharp cheekbones. I struggle to discern a face, yet I still feel stuck in this man’s gaze. Like his eyes have me in their grip. I push my way through the netting, but it works against me, rooting me to the spot. I struggle and I struggle. The constraint of the curtain becoming too much to bear. It’s difficult to breathe in my panic.

“Are you alright?” The strangers voice is the last thing I hear permeating the darkness before I’m woken up by the clock. The sedative wore off.

I sat there for a minute, gathering my breath. He was there. Again. He’s always there. No matter what I build, or where I hide, he finds a way through.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I wonder who that mysterious man could be ;)

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage

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