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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic <3

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vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings

“where are we going?”

“are you going to ask that every two seconds?”

“you kidnapped me, castellan.”

luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp.

“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.”

“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner.

“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.”

“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.”

“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation.

you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?”

“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches.

you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.”

“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.”

luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.”

“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper.

“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.”

the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.”

“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.”

“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens.

you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?”

“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.”

luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win.

luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?”

“you took me to an arcade?”

“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.”

“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him.

you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you.

he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”

“beating your ass at galaga.”

luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you.

there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go.

luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story.

he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him.

he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait.

he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.”

“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.”

“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?”

you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.”

he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?”

“you distracted me!”

“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive.

“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play.

luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own.

“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.”

“okay, you cheated.”

you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?”

“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.”

“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?”

luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.”

you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner.

“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench.

it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse.

“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.”

“what side smirk?”

“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.”

luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?”

“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.”

“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?”

“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling.

“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.”

he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this.

there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence?

he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.

the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was.

the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours.

“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own.

you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…”

he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything.

when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths.

he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos.

he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.”

“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”

luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you.

“smoke shop?” he asked.

“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!”

he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.”

you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp.

the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence.

“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.”

you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.”

luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.”

“you guys are really close, huh?”

“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?”

you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.”

“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.”

“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.”

“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.”

you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.”

“oh, i know.”

you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.”

“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.”

you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.”

luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat.

“for chase?”

luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.”

as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?”

he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11.

luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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buckybabieboy · 9 months

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Heyy! I was reading you work, which I love btw, and I wanted to request a one-shot or blurb for little!bucky accidentally getting drunk, like how would he act, what would he say. I feel like he’d be super clingy and needy. With cg!mommy!reader please 🥹 Love you writing <333

Lol this is gonna be the cutest thing ever😭. Thanks for the request Babie!

Tipsy Baby.

☁️ Summary: Bucky has way too much to drink at Natasha’s party, leaving you to take care of your little boy.

⚠️TW(READ.): sub!touch-starved bucky, dom!fem!reader, Bucky is so touch starved😭, reader is able to carry bucky, lactation kink cuz I felt like it, mentions of alcohol, Bucky can get drunk if he drinks an abundance.

📝A/N(PLEASE READ): DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE. ITS THAT SIMPLE. DON’T REPORT MY WORK JUST BC YOU DONT LIKE IT. Anyways, pls enjoy this lil blurb! drunk Bucky is just the cutest 🥰. and your right, bucky is VERY clingy AND FUCKING TOUCH STARVEDDDD when he’s drunk.

“Mommyyyy!” Bucky slurs out as he dramatically falls in front of you on the compound’s floor.

“Mommy pay ‘tenttion to me!”

You peer over your phone and watch as your baby heaves and pants on the ground, his beautiful pale skin flushed with pinkish-reddish tones, and his big puppy dog eyes red and puffed.

“Baby, are you drunk?” You question him, though you already know the answer. He only whines and thrashes his limbs around in a hissy fit, not using his words.

“W-why are you so faaarrr?” He wails petulantly, completely ignoring your question.

“M’ not far, sweetheart, ‘m right in front of you.”

An empty bottle of Tiger Beer has accompanied him on the ground, clutched inside his sweaty palms.

“Gimme that!” You sigh before getting off of your comfy spot on the couch and snatching the bottle out of his hands. He whines even more.

“Who let you have this?”

Bucky pouts and mutters something, but it’s almost impossible to hear with the music and noise that flood throughout the compound.

“Can’t hear you bud, you’re gonna have to speak up f’me, okay?”

“T-tasha…” He hiccups. “N-Natasha lemme have some, mommy…”

Another exasperated sigh escapes from you as you begin to regret supporting Bucky’s idea to come to Natasha’s party. It didn’t really surprise you though, since he was always a party guy when he was younger. You rarely ever drank, especially when you were going to an event. You opted out of that a long time when the both of you got drunk, which you both know didn’t end well.

Natasha had invited everyone to her floor for a party. You weren’t too fond of the idea when you heard there was going to be alcohol, but Bucky was very excited and begged you to go. He assured you that Steve and Sam would be there to watch him.

So eventually you gave in, but not before making him promise that he wouldn’t drink.

When you arrived at the party, Bucky was acting more than normal. He immediately started chatting and playing party games with Wanda and Vision. He even played Twister with them, which you knew was a surprise to everyone. Despite the fact that loud noises triggered him, he seemed to be having a good time. Needless to say, you felt comfortable with letting him go off on his own for awhile.

Scanning the room, you spot Natasha by the fridge, a Tiger Beer in hand. The trash can next to her was filled with empty bottles of that stuff, and you knew they had to be Bucky’s. He couldn’t get drunk easily so it would take a copious amount of alcohol to get him drunk.

The blame wasn’t all on Natasha, though. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all were made aware of Bucky and his little space—you’ve told them a numerous amount of times for his safety. So Natasha could’ve given him a bottle, but Bucky must’ve gotten his hands on this much alcohol all by himself.

You’d have to talk to them about that another day though, because right now, your little boy was cemented on the cold floor, spacey and dazed below you.

“S-so pretty. Mommy so pretty!” Bucky giggles, his head cocked to the side in awe as he gazes up at you. He wasn’t thinking about anything else. He literally couldn’t. His little brain couldn’t process anything while in little space, so him being drunk definitely amplified it X10.

“C’mon, baby boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”

You offer your hand to him. He doesn’t budge though, instead he whines, and mutters more incoherent sentences. This wasn’t the first time Bucky lost all of his words. When he was little, most of the time he would gesticulate instead of speaking up.

“Hmm…” You tap your index finger on your chin, prenteding to brainstorm. “Oh! I know what you want! You want uppies!”

Bucky nods and squeals, making grabby hands up at you. You place your hands under his arms, pick him up, and set him on your hip. A precious little noise escapes from him as he wraps his legs around your waist, his arms around your neck, and leans into your touch. The smell of your hair seemed to be the only thing he was able to process.

Once you make it to your floor, you set him down on the bed. He whines once again when you leave and you quickly shush him, reassuring him that you’re just getting his pj’s out for bed. Bucky stands up to take off his pants but stumbles and trips, landing face down on the floor.

“Hnnngh..” He whines, starting to pick up his thrashing and wailing from earlier.

“Hush, my little boy, let Mommy take care of you.”

“M’ dizzy…” He fusses. “Everything’s spinning…”

“I know baby, I know. Let’s get you in your PJ’s, okay?” You hush him a little bit before helping him off the ground and settting him back on the bed. It was a struggle, but you got his pants and shirt off. Now the task was to replace them with his nighttime ones. You take one leg of the pants, grab his leg, and slide it in.

“Good job, Jamie! Now your right leg!” You praise your little boy. He giggles when his pants are all the way on, and doesn’t even fuss when you put his shirt on for him.

“Perfect… now let Mommy get changed and then we can go sleepies, okay?”

He fussed, but you got changed in no time, and his fussing quickly became coos of happiness once you cradled him in your arms.

“My little baby.” You fawn. “Your mommy’s boy aren’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes flutter, as he tries to stay awake. His baby blues are glossy and clouded from the substance earlier.

“Mmm… uh-huh! M’mommy’s boy! Mommy’s goodest boy!”

“Yeah, except for earlier. What did I tell you about drinking that much alcohol? You know your little mind can’t take it.” You scold, and he pouts up at you.

“Sammy was watchin’ me! But then he drank some too, ‘n we-” His hiccups interrupts him.

“W-we made a stupid bet. Who could drink the mostest, ‘n I won.” He giggles at that last part, obviously proud of himself for beating Sam at literally anything.

You were about to respond when you noticed his eyes flutter. His metal fingers tug on your tank top—you already know what that means by now.

“Awh my baby’s hungry! You hungry, sweetheart?” You coo at him in the softest tone possible. He does nothing but nod, his words are becoming little to none—indicating that he was deep in.

“Go ahead, Jamie. You can have some, mommy doesn’t mind.”

You help him out a bit by tugging down the top yourself, your leaking tits out for Bucky to suckle on. He wastes no time, immediately latching his pink lips on your right nipple. His suckles were harsh and rapid. All he wanted right now was to taste your sweet nectar. A few strokes to the scalp and he’s almost out—his stamina completely gone from earlier.

You praise your little baby. Whispering to him all of the things he loved to hear. Calling him all of the names he loved to be called while in his little space.

The meekest whines and whimpers come from him as he suckled more frantically. As time went on he became frustrated—frustrated at the fact that he was too exhausted to keep going.

“Shh, it’s okay. I know… your so exhausted, hm? So exhausted from having so much fun earlier?”

You stroke his scalp with your fingers, keeping the movements slight and slow for him. Bucky could never describe it, but there was always a certain tactic, or pattern in which you’d scratch his scalp that made him feel so innocent. So vulnerable.

You know this, You know what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when he’s completely reliant and under your control.

“I’ve got you, Bucky Bear. Hush now.”

Bucky eventually quiets down, and so do his suckles on your nipple. He lets your nipple fall free from his mouth, some milk dripping down his parted lips. You wipe it off gently.

“Mommy m-mines?” He whimpers. “All mines?” He nuzzles himself into your chest, the warmth of your body and vibration of your voice as you cooed to him always calms him down.

“All yours, honey.”

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 5 months

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FOOL. | joel miller

pairing: post outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: mentions of alcohol and trauma (non-specific but implied), enemies to lovers, slightly shaky timeline, defensive joel, light smut, sprinkle of a praise kink minors DNI!! (Photos are not mine! Pls dm for credit/removal)

requested by the lovely @marvelstarwars :3 i literally had so much fun writing this, thank you sm for requesting! i hope you enjoy !!

If you asked him, he would swear he only admired the flora adorning your porch; he simply paid no mind to you, nor how beautiful your hands looked as you poured water over the soil or the smile you flashed at a passerby on their nightly stroll. He did not care that it wasn't directed at him.

“Do you have any clue what an asshole you are?”

“You ain't too kind yourself, sweetheart.”

“You won't let me be! I tried time and time and time again to be nice to you, and you're just such a dick no matter what I do, and I’m fucking sick of it."

You were not prone to such outbursts—not anymore. Or so you believed. Eight years within the walls of Jackson, an almost haven in the midst of what you genuinely believed to be Hell, and the security such a place brought changed you (or perhaps reverted you back to who you were). Ample food supply, walls strong enough to keep Infected and humans alike out, community, friendship. It was a piece of the old world, frozen in time as the rest of the Earth fell farther and farther by the day. At times, you felt guilty; you could not recall a single action, decision, or thought you had to deserve such safety. Before your arrival at the community (arrival is a strong word; you were barely alive when Maria found you and thus had to be carried to the infirmary with no say in the matter), your hands were stained with blood, all the way down to the bone, and you had all but lost any semblance of the person you were before Outbreak Day.

It was the greatest blessing that had ever been given to you.

You remembered how to be gentle; you remembered how to entertain small talk; you remembered how to garden; and you remembered how the sun felt shining in from your bedroom window. You remembered how to smile. You remembered that there was a time you were kind, honest, and full of so much love that you had no choice but to share it with those around you, lest it threaten to consume you. You remembered how to connect with people and that those connections did not have to be purely beneficial. You found something you buried so deeply inside your chest that you believed it to have been long dead, snuffed out with the rest of the world.

You remembered how to be human.

The remnants of yourself that you pieced back together into a living, breathing person were respected and well known within the community. You befriended and loved even the most stubborn of newcomers; in a short time, you became a crucial part of fostering camaraderie and a sense of home, even for those who no longer believed it could exist. You owed your life to Maria and to Jackson, and you intended to pay the debt in full.

Joel Miller was a payment you somehow missed and a giant pain in your ass. He seemed determined to brush off every attempt you made at conversation, never bothering to look at you much less respond to your questions (“Hey! How're you settling in?” “Have you made it over to the Bison yet?” “How’s your daughter doing?") When conversation seemed fruitless, you brought freshly baked bread to leave on his doorstep with a note reading: Welcome in! Hope you're settling in alright. I’m just down the street if you need anything, and the door’s always open, with your name signed at the bottom. Three days later, you noticed the bread still sitting on his porch, the note nowhere to be seen. When smaller acts of kindness did not work—you tried many: more baked goods, offers of watching after Ellie while he went on patrol, bringing him what Tommy swore was his favorite drink, even offering a haircut after you noticed his visible irritation with the curls that relentlessly tickled his eyebrow—you settled for a wave or small smile when you passed him in town, which he only returned with a rotten scowl.

No matter what you did, he seemed to hate you. It well and truly pissed you off.

You were not prone to violent outbursts, but Joel Miller incited anger in you like no one else. This was not your first incident with him, and you doubted it would be the last.

“I never asked you for a damn thing.”

“Fuck you, Joel.” Your blood was practically boiling beneath your skin. “Enjoy being a miserable son of a bitch. I’m done.”

“Oh, I plan on it, sweetheart.” You would have hit him if it weren't for his pretty face. You thought for a moment that a blackened eye or broken nose might take him down a notch, but another moment of realization washed over you: Tommy would be absolutely furious if you laid a hand on his brother when he technically did not deserve it. He was already sick of your bickering; he said as much himself, and you dared not chance the repercussions of a right hook to the side of Joel’s face.

Instead, you turned on your heel and left him in the middle of the street. You could not see the pain that welled up in his eyes as you turned away from him.

You did not speak to nor look in the direction of Joel for three weeks, and he did not catch even a glance of you.

For the first three days, he felt relieved. Since his arrival, he had hardly gone a single day without seeing your face or being met with a conversation he had not the slightest clue how to engage in, and to finally be without your presence felt peaceful. His morning walk was no longer disturbed by your upbeat chatter; he went to the Tipsy Bison and had a drink in peace; he sat on his porch in the evenings, strumming his guitar and sipping on a glass of whiskey without you strolling by and listening to the sounds of the strings. He settled down in Jackson, along with Ellie, three months ago and had finally been left alone. Ellie quickly befriended the other teenagers in the commune and spent most evenings getting into what he chose to believe was harmless fun (his paternal instincts screamed at him otherwise, but he knew she deserved to be a kid. Trouble came with the territory), and for three consecutive nights, he was unbothered. Not to say he disliked Ellie or her company; she was the most important thing to him, his reason for drawing breath. He loved her dearly, but silence had become a rare and cherished treat.

On the fourth night, Joel caught a glimpse of you on your front porch. It was a warm night, though it was unusually cool to be in the middle of June. You donned a pair of shorts and a not quite fitted shirt as you watered flowers and trailing plants hanging from the banister. He took a moment to admire the luscious greenery—he could recall you boasting of your skills in gardening, having been able to save many plants from the brink of death, and offering your assistance to the farmers in Jackson when their crops began to struggle. He also recalled the fact that you refused payment in return. (If you asked him, he would swear he only admired the flora adorning your porch; he simply paid no mind to you, nor how beautiful your hands looked as you poured water over the soil or the smile you flashed at a passerby on their nightly stroll. He did not care that it wasn't directed at him.)

On the ninth night, Joel made a trip to the Tipsy Bison. He had spent far too many evenings inside the house, according to Ellie. He desperately needed a change in scenery, but more than that, he wanted a drink. He briefly recalled the last instance of you knocking on his front door, unannounced, with an old-fashioned in your hand and a wide smile on your face that quickly disappeared when he declined the drink. When he went out on his porch later that evening, he found the same drink sitting on the outdoor table with a note covering the mouth of the glass to prevent insects from contaminating the beverage. As he sat at the bar all these weeks later, listening to a cacophony of music, aimless chatter, chairs groaning, and ice clinking, he ordered the same zesty cocktail while the handwriting scrawled on that note burned behind his eyelids.

(Tommy told me this was your favorite. Gotta say, they're not half bad. Hope you get to it before the ants do. Enjoy your night, door’s always open if you need anything.

P.S – I stashed away some bourbon I found from before, it’s yours if you want it. Not much of a whiskey girl.)

He stashed it away, along with the other handful of notes you had gifted him, though he was unable to discern why. He was never a sentimental guy.

On the eleventh night, he saw you for the first time since your outburst (aside from the brief glimpse of your weekly plant watering). It was another cool-for-June night, and he reckoned an evening stroll was preferable to listening to Ellie and Dina giggling upstairs. The summer air was crisp, and a warm breeze danced across his face, making his overgrown hair tickle his eyes. He thought a haircut was perhaps in order, though part of him did not trust Maria so close to him with scissors in hand. During his struggle to keep his hair away from his line of sight, Joel managed to overlook you entirely until he was a mere four or five feet away from you.

“What're you doin’ out here? It’s late.” You turned to face him for the first time in nearly two weeks, and Joel’s heart caught in his throat. How had he never noticed? The setting sun flashed brightly across your skin, filling your face with warmth and flooding your irises, and Joel realized that you were perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your hair blew freely in the breeze, though somehow more elegantly than his unkempt curls, which still seemed determined to obstruct his vision. He was unsure whether he saw a moment of sympathy on your face or if his mind played tricks on him, because you surely held no sympathy for him or his overgrown mane that he quite disrespectfully declined your assistance with.

“Don't see how that’s any of your concern.” You shot back, despite your eyes having softened.

“Just curious. Tryin’ to be friendly.”

“That's a first.” He sighed heavily at your statement, though he knew there was no denying it: “Sky looks pretty.” You were being far shorter with him than he was accustomed to. He could not blame you. Joel knew he had been cruel to you, though he could not explain why. Especially now, as you bask in the setting sun’s light dancing across your skin. You looked more peaceful than he had ever seen you, and guilt rips through his chest as he realizes this is the first time he’s seen you look so serene when conversing with him—it’s the first time he’s ever seen you so disinterested in speaking with him.

The guilt weighed heavier as he realized this was the first time he'd ever attempted a conversation with you.

“Yeah.” He agreed, though he could not draw his gaze from you to pay any mind to the sky.

On the fourteenth day, Joel realized he missed you. He missed your smile, the cadence of your voice, the melodiousness of your laughter; he missed the handwritten notes; the drinks he never asked for but you somehow knew he needed; the breads that he never bothered to bring in; he missed your attentiveness over Ellie; your inquiries about his day or if the house was cool enough for him. He missed you. Scraps of lined paper with blue ink were a poor substitute.

On the fifteenth day, Joel Miller realized what a pompous asshole he'd been.

On the sixteenth, he could do nothing but hate himself.

And the seventeenth.

And the eighteenth.

Straight through to the twentieth day.

On the morning of the twenty-first day, the self-hatred gave way to pure confusion. Why was he missing your attention so strongly? Why did he care that you were actively avoiding him? Why did he turn down Maria’s offer of a haircut, and why was he hoping he would open his door to a handwritten note ending with ‘The door’s always open’? Why did he turn down Tommy’s offer of whiskey? Why could he not get you off his mind?

“Dude, you have to talk to her.” Ellie stated as she shoved down her dinner (Joel tried to get her to eat slower and teach her table manners, but residual effects of food scarcity currently make such an intervention nearly impossible).

“What?” He snapped back.

She said your name as though it should have been entirely obvious from the start: “You’ve been a wreck for days. Just talk to her, man. Say you're sorry or something.”

“It ain't that simple,” he retorted.

“Why not?” Joel did not have an answer. He opted to glare at her, and Ellie took it as a victory, but not without a final say: “You didn't like me at first either, but look where we are now.” She said, gesturing to the kitchen. Before Joel could snap back a response, Ellie was darting from the table, yelling something he could hardly discern as she ran out the front door.

And on the afternoon of the twenty-first day, Joel found himself marching to your front door with two cups of coffee and a note with what he believed to be a poor excuse for handwriting in his back pocket. As he approached your porch, he stole a moment to observe your plants up close. He could not help but admire your dedication to something that would never be able to return the sentiment. His heart was in his stomach as he sat the cups down on your outdoor table and raised a hand to knock on your door. He thinks it stopped beating for a moment when you didn't answer.

Nevertheless, he left the note and coffee sitting for you outside.

Avoiding Joel Miller was a task easier said than done.

He had never been accused of being sociable, outgoing, or even particularly friendly, but something about him drew you in. His thick, southern drawl constantly played through your head, despite having rarely heard it directed at you. The messy curls, ever grayer by the day, adorning his head were never far from the front of your mind, nor were his soft brown eyes. It seemed the harder you steered yourself away from him, the more he consumed your thoughts.

In all actuality, you were done being angry with him within a few days. One conversation with Tommy shed much-needed light on the internal battle ever waging in his head, and you realized Joel Miller was far unlike any other member of the community (of course, he would be livid to learn that Tommy divulged such personal details to someone Joel considered to be a stranger). You also realized your best course of action would be to leave him alone; you came to see that Joel was no different from you upon your arrival in Jackson—confused, angry, and filled to the brim with trauma you felt hopeless to overcome, but above all, you were scared. After so long of living on the road, a house felt more like a grave; the walls felt like a prison cell, and the people may as well have been judge, jury, and executioner.

You had fully given up on whatever friendship you tried to strike up with him. Joel Miller wanted nothing to do with you, and it was something you were going to have to learn to live with, no matter how desperately your heart seemed to wish otherwise.

So when he knocked on your doorstep one afternoon, looking utterly disheveled and anxiety-ridden, you were completely taken aback, so much so that it took you a full two minutes to remember how to turn the doorknob and greet him. By the time you did, he had already turned away and was halfway back to his house. You noticed the mug he carried in his hand only moments before noticing another sitting on your table, with still steaming coffee and a note sitting underneath the ceramic.

Your heart raced as you read his endearingly messy handwriting:

‘I’ve been an ass. Sorry it took me this long to figure it out. Could I make it up to you over dinner?

P.S – that bourbon should mix well with the coffee. Give it a shot before you give it away.’

In a split second decision, you made your way over to his house with the coffee in hand, unfortunately losing a few splashes on the way due partially to uneven ground but mostly due to your nerves. You could not understand the effect he was having on you. Three weeks ago, you were ready to knock him into the dirt. Today, you anxiously run your fingers through your hair and smooth out the wrinkles in your shirt while cursing yourself for not taking the time to brush your teeth again before coming to his front door. However, there was no time to turn back or regroup because he opened the door almost immediately after you knocked.

You were wholly unprepared for the sight of him. His hair had grown noticeably longer, and perhaps grayer as well. It was messy; undefined curls spread all across his forehead, but somehow he managed to look nothing less than perfect. He adorned himself with a fitted black shirt that hugged his arms in all the right ways and only highlighted the broadness of his shoulders. His skin was beautifully tanned, a perfect bronze that looked as though the sun itself lived inside of him. You had never seen his eyes look so soft and unguarded. You were unsure if it was the prolonged lack of contact or if you were initially blinded by anger, but Joel was handsome. Rugged, chiseled, slightly older, and strong (you wondered if he was strong enough to perhaps carry you, pick you up as though you weighed nothing, or perhaps throw you around a bit).

He cleared his throat and broke you from your trance. “Oh, uh… hey. Sorry, hope I didn't bother ya by knocki–”

“How does lunch sound instead?” Your words came out rushed, and you hoped they didn't betray how flustered you were. “Like, now. As long as you're free, I mean, I know you don't really have company often, and you have Ellie too…”

“That, uh, that actually sounds real nice.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. C’mon in. Sorry for the mess.”

Six more weeks passed.

Six more weeks of spontaneous lunches, dinners, late-night drinks, heavy conversations as a result, and countless cups of coffee

Joel could not believe he had ever been so foolish as to refuse your companionship; he has spent so many days chastising himself over his stupidity. He wasted the better part of four months pushing you away at every turn. And despite it all, despite his thorniness, despite his brash personality and rusty conversational skills, despite believing he had nothing to offer you in return for your adoration aside from pain and tears, you never once made him feel like the monster he believed himself to be. He could not help but remember your plants and your willingness to love them despite them never reciprocating; they grew, they lived, and it was enough for you. You gave and gave and gave just a little more, and you never expected anything in return other than him, with all of his flaws, his traumas, and his burdens. He was all you wanted.

Joel knew he wasn't good with these things. He knew what he was beginning to feel for you—it was an emotion he hadn't felt in many years at this point, not entirely foreign to him but not his mother tongue. He did not know how to express his gratitude or adoration for you, certainly not in the way that you deserved.

What he did know was how to use your body—or, rather, his body—for your pleasure. Joel’s words often fell short, but his mouth and tongue still had a myriad of ways to tell you his affections: late at night when the town slept and Ellie was off with her friends, or in the early hours of dawn when the sun had barely begun to kiss the sky, or during midday when the heat was practically unbearable, Joel would show you just how special you were to him. With every flick of his skilled tongue, every movement of his hands, and every kiss he shared with you, he poured every ounce of his adoration into your body, and you responded with the sweetest moans his ears had ever been graced with.

And now, as you lay wrapped up in a thin gray sheet with your clothes scattered along his bedroom floor, Joel floods you with devotion. He took his time working you up; he made you earn it this time around and turned you into a beautiful little mess below him before he ever touched you where you so desperately needed him. A piece of him wanted to keep you like this—you looked so goddamn pretty underneath him, practically begging for him to do anything more than what he was—but he could only be so selfish when you were just so good for him, and he could not keep himself from telling you so.

Such a good girl.

You're doing so good for me, darlin’.

Look so pretty like this, baby.

And every time you come undone below him, Joel cannot help but look at you so ardently; you were a sight to rival sunsets, mountains, and entire oceans, and you were his. And every time he slides into your warmth, he swears he finds heaven—if not inside of you, then beside you. You cry out his name as your nails scrape down his back—a delicious burn that only adds to his pleasure—while your legs wrap around his hips, silently begging him to stay exactly where he is and to never go too far. Hot kisses pepper down the side of your neck, and you tug at his finally trimmed curls, eliciting deep moans from his chest, creating a cacophony of sounds that neither of you maintain the mental clarity to silence—not when you are so wrapped up in each other, nothing else exists outside of the walls of his bedroom.

And when he finishes, when his body goes rigid and he moans, practically whimpers, your name at a slightly higher pitch than his usual cadence, Joel finds serenity next to you in the after. As your eyes open and shut, and you fall in and out of sleep, and he traces featherlight patterns on the soft skin of your shoulder blade, Joel cannot help but believe he’s the luckiest man on Earth.

You murmured something almost indistinguishable into his chest, but a few sounds carried crystal clear through the air—enough that he thought he could understand your intentions.

He responded, “Me too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 9 days

Note

hi hi!! saw the list of wips and was curious about the keegan ones :3c

also pls don’t put me in the basement i have finals next week and like three pieces i gotta work on!!!! and ig the petri dishes gotta be in the right conditions

no, no finals. only basement. mine now. <3

keegan number 1 for the wip ask game: soulmate keegan-- takes place during the mission "clockwork," for the cod: ghosts enjoyers!

It burns where he's gripping you. Sears your neck at the throat. It hurts so bad you white out for a moment. The man's arm tightens across your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, and you grab his forearm. He hisses in pain. Instantly, you both know what just happened: he soulmarked you; and you, him. He burned his handprint into your throat--the first place he touched you. You burned yours into his arm--singeing him through your gloves and through his disguise. Keegan knew his soulmate probably existed in the world somewhere, but never thought much about what it would be like to know her—if he ever had the chance at all. Still, finding his soulmate here and now--a Federation soldier in a Federation base, of all things--triggers an instinct in his mind that compels him to keep her from harm. That instinct wars with the need to carry out the mission at all costs. But his grip doesn't lessen. Instead, he tightens his arm around you, trying to keep a cool head. He drags you past his teammates--Logan, Hesh, and Merrick--and into an adjacent empty room. You can barely see anything, but you hear shouting and the exchange of gunfire. You struggle against his hold. "Let go of me!" "I'm not gonna let go." He shifts his grip to pry your head back, exposing the glowing soulmark formed at the base of your neck. His breath falls over the mark, and it glows hotter. Neither of you can ignore this. You're his soulmate. But here? Now? You're supposed to be an enemy; you're part of the Federation. He's not even supposed to let you live. But he's definitely not gonna let you die.

and keegan number 2: keegan in the cold-- with medic!reader. warning: keegan is mean.

"Why would you say that?" "Because I want you to understand who you are," Keegan hisses. "You can't handle using a gun because you're scared. You can't tell Hesh how you feel because you know he'd reject you. You'd be dead if I hadn't pulled you to safety. You're nothing without me. You're pathetic." You keep your mouth shut until the sting from his words fades. What he's saying isn't true. He's pissed and looking for control wherever he can get it because that's the kind of bastard he is. You will your voice to soften from anger into condescension. "Do you want that to be true, Keegan? Would it feed your ego?" "What I want is for you to admit that I was right," Keegan retorts, his tone growing more aggressive as you refuse to rise to the bait. "Admit that you rely on me. That without me, you'd be dead. That you're weak and pathetic and need me to be your shield. It's the truth, isn't it? Say it." "It sounds like you want it to be true." ”It sounds like you're avoiding the question.” "You want me to tell you I'm worthless?" “I want you to tell me I'm right." He leans closer, invading your personal space. "I want you to show me some gratitude for saving your life. Maybe treat me better than the dirt on the bottom of your fucking shoes." That takes you genuinely by surprise. Anger still simmers in your gut. But you tamp it down. You keep your head cool and your voice even. "Thank you, Keegan, once again," you bite out, "for saving my pathetic life. Happy?" "Thank you isn't good enough," Keegan growls, his tone dangerously low. "Keep talking."

wip ask game / more Keegan / masterlist tag

#but also hope your finals go/are going/went well!! boy do i not miss finals week. good luck! hope it's easier & less stressful than expcted!#ask #mine #tag game #snippet #soulmate keegan #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod ghosts #keegan #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #keegan p russ x reader #keegan p russ x you

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honeystwiggypeach · 2 years

Note

hi i hope you dont mind but if you're not that busy is it okay if you write this? huhu thank you!

reader telling jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso) that they are preggo and they've been trying for a few years already and are already thinking of surrogacy. please please please this can be months after they have a miscarriage too!

a rainbow baby! 😭

Hi hon!!! Sorry this came so late I got a bit caught up with school than my mom and aunts wanted to have dinner so that’s what I did today! Tysm for the request! I try to remain as respectful as possible when I write requests like this or about sensitive topics so pls tell me if I misphrase or say anything poorly so I can correct it!!

Ps. I didn’t do choso because idk his personality well and I don’t know if I’m confident in writing him😭

Tw- mentions of past miscarriages, rainbow baby, infertility, surrogacy, anything mentioned in the request, grief, (in Geto’s people besides parents try and explain death and miscarriage to the twins so reader gets upset)in gojos the pregnancy is both unplanned and not known about, birth, pregnant reader if your uncomfortable with anything relating to loosing a child/pregnancy I advise that you do not read this one! Pls let me know if I missed anything!!

Geto

He took it hard, he loved the twins with his whole heart he truly did but he missed having babies to look after, maybe it was just baby fever but he felt like your little family wasn’t quite complete.

Unfortunately when you’d found the missing piece, it didn’t work out, unfortunately in your second trimester you had miscarried. You and Geto were both devastated, and everyone for a while everyone treated the two of you as ticking time bombs ready to explode at any moment.

The girls didn’t quite understand, they knew that they were supposed to have a sibling soon and now they weren’t going to but that was it, they couldn’t comprehend it yet and the amount of times you both had to stop people from explaining it to them horrified you.

This time when you’d fallen pregnant, you decided that maybe you two should keep this one a bit secret just in case, so when you’d first told Geto it was in the safety of your bedroom you’d sat beside him your hands behind your back before quickly pulling out the test.

“Are you serious” his voice is a bit quiet as it crackles.

You were his only weak spot, of course besides his children…but of course he would never let you know that…not like it was obvious or anything. He practically sobs when you give him a little nod, he lets out the same quiet muffled sobbing noise when he sees his son for the first time laid on your chest.

Gojo

Honestly it hurt you a lot. His family was really into the idea of you carrying a biological heir, but sometimes it felt like you just weren’t capable of doing so. Honestly you’d started to even look into surrogacy because you couldn’t handle all the unfortunate things that continued to happen every time you would even talk about pregnancy.

When you’d been getting intense abdominal cramps you decided maybe you shouldn’t test it and checked yourself into the hospital, where you found out you were in labour, within the hour Gojo had arrived to see you sat up in the hospital bed with the cutest little baby girl laid on your chest. You smile dazedly as he stares down at the two of you in wonder.

“She’s real” he whispers as he touches the little fluffy whisper of hair she has. His fingers just barely graze her scalp and she scrunches and thats what triggers his tears.

Nanami

It was just bad news after bad news, it was beginning to feel like maybe you shouldn’t have a baby at all. Of course when Nanami had heard you mutter this one night after you’d talked about trying for a baby again, he smiled guiltily, “if this doesn’t work there’s surrogacy or even adoption” he knows that you don’t want either of those, you want what everyone else is able to have, he can hear the way you cry in the bathroom after another negative test about how unfair it is and how cruel the world can be.

But this time there’s no crying no shouts of how unfair it is, there’s silence and Nanami at first thinks you’ve fallen and hurt yourself but when he hears your squeal he knows that isn’t the case.

He pushes the door open softly to see you holding the test you smile up at him as you show him the two little pink lines, “it’s positive” you tell him and it takes a moment to register but when it does he’s got a wide smile as he bends down softly peppering kisses along your face.

Toji

He was rather reserved already but after you’d lost the baby, it became worse. Toji not only was reserved but he was reclusive, not eating dinner with you and Megumi not even greeting you anymore.

He’d come out at night and creep around the house to avoid seeing you two, he didn’t understand how to process the loss and had resorted to cutting off the world while he grieved.

One of these nights however he’s not quiet enough and you flicker on the lights, Toji is stood over the sink as he chugs down tap water.

“Toji” you call out, “Will you come to bed?” And when he lays down beside you it feels like heaven. He’s wrapped in your warm embraces as you whisper soft reassurances he doesn’t tell you that your comfort and soft touch made him cry long after you fell asleep.

Almost a year after that, you’d fallen pregnant, and Megumi was the one to help you tell him as he pranced around the house all day in a tee shirt that said big brother on it.

Honestly it was adorable and you loved seeing little Megumi be so happy when his dad furrowed his brows holding his boy up by the armpits to get a good look at what his shirt said glancing down to your belly than back to Megumi before his eyes meet yours.

“You’re serious?” He asks still holding up Megumi.

You give him a little nod paired with a nervous giggle and he sets Megumi down softly going over to hug you as Megumi continues to stomp around the kitchen.

If anyone wants to see anything else pls let me know!! Omg guys!!! Do you want to see reader and maybe like teen Megumi?(reader is with Toji, but maybe like reader being a mom figure to Megumi and while he’s got a fever he unintentionally calls her mama, which he hadn’t done since he was really young?? And Toji like hugging reader a bit when she cries because she misses him being a baby and being affectionate???? I’m gonna sob someone request it pls???)

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seventeenpins · 6 months

Text

wanna be felled by you, held by you

pairing: Joel Miller x nonbinary!Reader

word count: 4.7k

summary: Joel has always issues with relinquishing control. Time in the safety and community of Jackson has changed him, though, and he wants to give all his control to you, let you pull him apart.

content/warnings: established relationship, non-binary transmasculine reader, no implied age gap, Joel is uncircumcised, vaguely implied past Joel x Reader x Tess polycule, Joel calls you sir & daddy, you call Joel a good boy, sub!joel, cock sucking, titty fucking (reader has breasts big enough to partake in such), face sitting, piv, a smidge of dysphoria alluded to, crying, everyone's bi, one (1) smack to the face, it's literally just 4.3k of smut with 400 words of domesticity, slight bit of bloodthirstiness (but just as love as consumption)

a/n: title from NFWMB by Hozier. There's a lot of fic out there with helpless naive reader (which is fucking excellent, don't get me wrong), but I wanted to write something where you and Joel are on par with one another. Also, wanted to say--this is written as one character's experience as a nonbinary person. I'm nonbinary, but in no way want to suggest that the way I've written this is necessarily a universal nonbinary experience. Pls be kind 💜 Would love to know if y'all like this and would read more nb reader fics!!

✨check out my masterlist for other fics 😚✨

The first time Joel asked you to blindfold him and fuck him rough, you thought he was joking.

You laughed and stroked his cheek, "That would be fun," you admitted, teasing, "Be careful what you wish for, baby."

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, and the day went on, uneventful.

The thought weighed on you. It would be fun, but this was Joel Miller talking. He was, arguably, something of a control freak. Insistent on shouldering burdens not only his own, but of all the people he loved. You'd never seen him willingly give up an ounce of control, and the few unwilling times it'd happened, he would drive himself nearly to death trying to seem unaffected by injury. He'd carry on as he insisted he must, even when his bones were broken or he was bleeding out. Even when you, or Ellie, or, Tess (back in the day) were patching up cuts or setting bones, he'd grumble and insist he was fine, only shutting up when he quite literally passed out from the pain or blood loss. He was as stubborn as he was devoted, and he was a devoted man.

So the idea of Joel relinquishing even a crumb of control seemed outlandish. You were a better shot than him. A faster runner, too. But he was so self-possessed. You were certain, too, it was part of the reason he was such a good fuck. He payed attention to every detail, noticed every one of your gasps and whines, at this point able to get you off faster than you could get yourself off. His fingers knew right where to press, his tongue licking and sucking at you, teeth biting at nipples, grip bruising you so deliciously. He could fuck you for hours and leave you stumbling, spent and sated.

That said, it'd be a lie to say it was an unappealing thought to turn the tables on him.

You'd love to pull him apart piece by piece, if he would ever let you.

Joel was off patrolling today, due back any time, and you were making dinner. You were thankful for the ingredients available in Jackson and swore to make good use of them, every single time.

You'd roasted butternut squash with garlic and sage, scooped out the flesh, and mixed it with spinach and cheese. Then, carefully piped it back into the squash skins and roasted it again.

It was decadent, and a favorite of yours. Rich and creamy and everything you loved about autumn flavors.

Right as you were turning the oven on to broil, you heard the latch click and heavy footsteps crossed the threshold.

"Supper's nearly ready," you call, and you hear a soft grumble from across the room as he stomped off his boots and hung up his coat.

Joel slides up behind you, arms circling around your stomach, chin resting on your shoulder.

"Hey baby," you greet, turning your head to place a kiss on the curve of his nose. "Good day?"

"Hmm," he grunts, noncommittal, "Better now that I'm home with you. Dinner smells great."

"Just a few more minutes left. Letting the cheese get bubbly."

"Mmm," he groaned, "Is this that squash thing?"

"Yep."

"Ellie home?"

"Nah. Out for the night, I think."

"So I get you all to myself?" He shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Don't distract me, Miller," you snort, "You will not cause me to burn dinner again, so help me God."

"Distract you?" He says in mock offense as he walks over to the fridge, "I would never distract you, baby."

He pulls out two beers and pops the tops, handing one to you. You clink with him and both take a swig. Jackson beer was something else. After years of nothing even slightly palatable, it was a luxury you swore you would never take for granted again.

Your timer buzzes and you pull the roasting pan out of the oven as Joel sets the table.

Dinner is pleasant. Joel's famished from patrol and he wolfs down his first serving at a speed that might have rivalled Ellie's, back when you were all travelling together. He finishes his first beer, and then a second, and when he reaches for the whiskey, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You're really putting that away," you frown, and he winces, sheepish.

"I-" He starts, and stumbles, hesitating.

"You okay, Joel?" You ask.

He nods, and grins, and it's a funny grin because if you didn't know better you'd think he was nervous.

"I'm a bit nervous," he says, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Why you nervous baby? Did something go bad on patrol?"

"No, I-"

"You trying to propose?" you tease, "Wait, no--you're cheating on me?"

"Oh shut up," he rolls his eyes and laughs. "Nothin' so serious."

"So-?" you press, "What is it then?"

He pours a finger of whiskey and takes a sip, and it's calculated. Calming. That bit of control, again, he needs to put off.

"You remember the other week, what I said?"

"My back hurts?" you suggest.

"Smartass," he snorts.

"My knees hurt."

"Jesus. No, the other thing."

You try and take account of whatever it might be, but nothing's coming to you.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, Joel."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you dead in the eye. Determined.

"I know you thought I was joking, but I wasn't joking," he says, "I want you to blindfold me. Fuck me rough. Let me... lose myself in you. Use me."

There's a moment of silence.

"You sure, Joel?" you ask, not wanting to sound too eager. "Cos I'm happy to do it, I just know that... well. If I were to expect anyone would like to be blindfolded, you're not at the top of my list."

"Oh really? And who's at the top of your list."

"Well, I bet Tommy would--"

Joel cuts you off with a sputtering cough as his whiskey goes down wrong. "Let's not talk about my brother right now."

"I remember Tess used to," you recall, and Joel nods. Shrugs.

"I guess I just- I've never seen you out of control. You sure you can do that for me?"

Joel ponders and nods. "I can be good for you," he insists.

"Okay, then," you tell him, "When do you wanna do this?"

"Well," he grins, and runs a hand down your arm, "Like you said, we'll be alone tonight."

"Joel Miller, you absolute freak," you tease and he grumbles.

You ponder for a moment before nodding. "Okay, baby, let's get showered and then we can start. I'm covered in cooking sweat, and I think you might still have a bit of clicker gunk on you."

He brushes at a chunk of something in his hair and grimaces. "I'll take care of dishes later. Let's go, baby."

Shower sex wasn't really your thing; there was always less friction than you'd expect, and one person would hog the water while the other was standing, freezing in the extraneous spray. It was easy to slip, and the angle was never quite right.

You did, however, love shower foreplay.

You let Joel run his hands across your back, spreading suds up and down you, rubbing at the sore impressions where your binder had cut into you throughout the day. You loved feeling his body, slick from the wet with coarse curls of hair across his entire chest, trailing down his torso, his belly, into the thick thatch between his legs. More than anything, though, you loved feeling his cock hardening against your leg as he massaged conditioner into your scalp, before you could turn around and return the favor.

Once you were both clean, you made your way to the bedroom.

Thankful that you'd changed the sheets this morning, you were thrilled that the bed was made with your favorite linen sheets. A little luxury that you could bask in, sensation that always delivered.

"You ready, Joel?" you ask, and he nods.

"Let's do it."

From the box under the bed, you pull out the blindfold. A makeshift piece that was once a sleeping mask, cut and stitched to have long, tying ends that could be pulled taught and prevent any light getting in. The two of you didn't use it often, and you'd been the only one to ever wear it, but it helped that it was a familiar thing.

"Sit," you tell him, and he backs up on to the bed. You take a moment to look him up and down, drink him in. You want him to see how you're looking at him. At all of him. From his freshly washed feet to his heavy, half-hard cock, to the damp curls of his salt-and-pepper hair, you want him to know exactly what it is you see. A man. A partner. A whole fucking meal.

You hold the blindfold up to him and wrap it around his head, crossing the ends over front and back again before giving it a little tug.

"Can you see anything?" you ask, and his face twitches a little as he tests it.

"No," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Okay," you tell him, "Good boy."

He lets out a sharp, surprised exhale and you immediately see how his cock stiffens at your words.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" you ask, and he nods.

"Use your words, Joel," you tell him and he scrambles to obey.

"Yes, yes, sir, I like that."

"Mmm," you hum in affirmation, "Glad to hear it."

You start torturously slow, directing him as needed.

"Lay back," you tell him, "All the way on the bed," and he does, inching his way up.

"Arms up, too," you command, "You don't get to touch me without my say-so, got it?"

He lets out a grumble but nods.

"I'm gonna take my time with you," you tell him, and now you're making your way up the bed, close to straddling him, but not letting an inch of your skin press against his hard cock.

You know that the warmth of your cunt is radiating heat towards him, and that he can feel it as his hips unconsciously buck up towards you, focused enough that he still doesn't dare touch you, but not by much. You feel yourself start to get wet at the sight of him laid bare before you. It's times like these that you're awe-struck. So in love with this man you want to slice him open and bury yourself in the sticky wet viscera. Eat his guts. Kill for him. Die for him. Consume every part of him and let him consume you.

You lean over his body and press kisses to every silvered scar you can find. From his forehead, to the old bullet wound on his arm. Down his chest, his belly. The gouge you and Ellie had had to stitch up years ago, ugly and pink and perfect; a testament to his endurance.

Every press of your lips to his skin and Joel is gasping. You know he's feeling it--the thing you like most about being blindfolded is not knowing where sensation will occur next. Not being able to anticipate a touch here, a bite there, the way his hands grip your body. The surprise is part of the allure, and with every kiss you place on his bare skin, he lets out another shuddering breath.

"You're doing good for me," you praise, and you swear you can see him blush, his cheeks reddening beneath the blindfold.

You start slowly, dragging your calloused fingertips from the swell of his thighs, up his torso to his nipples, pinching them a little, delighting in the way he shudders at the sensation. You avoid his cock, but every time you run your fingers along his inner thighs, he would rut up towards you in a mortifying involuntary motion.

He was so eager. He was so fucking perfect. Exactly what you needed. You were so grateful, every day, that you'd made it this far when it had often felt impossible that you might live another day.

"Gonna let me play with you the way I want to?" you ask, and he nods, vigorous.

"So good for me," you tell him, "So good. Hard for me, ready for me to use, huh?"

"Yes," he agreed, "Use me, please."

You rub your drooling pussy against his length, getting it wet and slick. Then, you take his cock in your hand.

He wasn't expecting it and he's shuddering at the sensation. "It's so much," he whispers, awed.

Joel thrusts into your hand as you start pumping along his length in earnest. Your thumb swipes over his slit, and then slides down, gripping with your forefinger as you apply pressure to the base of his shaft, You watch as the blood vessels swell, your hands working as a pseudo-cock ring, and Joel whimpers and pants against the sensation.

"Look at how fat your cock is for me," you praise, "I can't wait to sit on this."

Joel's inhale sounds ragged and worn, and he exhales something close to a sob.

"Feel so good, honey," he tells you, "Fuck, your hands feel so good around me."

"You like this, huh, Joel?" you ask, and you know it's true. He's so hard, rubbing against you as he gives you all his faith, all his trust.

"Yes, Christ, yes!-" he gasps.

You give him a few more strokes and then lower yourself over him, holding your breasts tight together, letting his hard cock press up between them.

Your breasts weren't your favorite thing, God knows if top surgery were a safe option in this world you'd probably opt for it, but apart from an occasional dysphoric spell, you'd more or less made peace with that part of yourself. You knew, too, how Joel loved feeling the plush of your breasts against his skin, and when you were comfortable, you were happy to make the most of them.

The second you slid his cock between your heavy breasts, Joel lets out a strangled groan. "God, yes baby," he heaves, and without thinking, reaches to grab at you, clutching your shoulder with one hand and burying his hand in your hair with the other.

You immediately stop and draw back, delivering a firm smack to his jaw. Not enough to hurt, just enough to startle, and he reels back, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"The fuck did I say, hmm?" you ask, and he lets out a breath.

"I'm sorry baby, sorry sir-"

"You know what you did wrong?"

"Touched you-" his breathing is heavy, labored in the most beautiful, raw way. "Touched you without your permission."

"That's right," you tell him. You drag your fingertips through his hair, along his scalp, down his neck and across his chest. He shudders and his hips buck up towards nothing, involuntary.

"You gonna be good for me now?" you ask him and he nods, vigorous.

"I'll be good for you," he hisses, "You're so good to me, fuck, thank you, thank you-!"

You lean back down, pressing your breasts together again. Fisting his cock and stroking it, watching him squirm. You press down again, letting him fuck up between your tits.

"Don't move," you warn him when you see his fingers start to twitch, "Keep those hands above your head and let me make you feel good."

"Yes sir-"

"Good boy."

He groans, and you start to move. Pressing your breasts tighter together, swallowing his length entirely, gliding up and down. You feel the slick of his tip starting to weep precum, smell the delicious tang of it.

With your free hand, you swipe a thumb over his head, delighting in the way he squirms and ruts against you.

You lick the slickness off your thumb and moan. "Taste so good, baby," you tell him, "You wanna try it?"

"Oh fuck, yes, please," he whines.

You swipe your thumb over his slit again and bring it up to his mouth, still sliding your breasts up and down his length.

"Open up," you direct, prodding at the side of his mouth. He does, opens his mouth with a shuddering breath, tongue glistening and ready. You press your thumb against his tongue and he licks and sucks at it greedily.

"Look at you," you tell him, "Licking up your own cum like a good boy, huh? So fucking good for me."

"Thank you sir," he hums, and you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'm gonna suck your cock now, Joel," you tell him, "And then I'm gonna ride you. And I'm gonna get myself off at least three times on you before you get to come. You got that?"

"Jesus Christ," he groans, "Yes-! Can I-" he cuts himself off.

"What?" you ask.

"Can I eat your pussy?" he asks.

You grin. "Ooh, look at you," you tell him, "Taking the initiative, huh? What a good boy you are. But you gotta be patient for me."

You scoot back on the bed and let a string of saliva drip from your mouth onto the head of his cock. He immediately shudders and fucks his hips up towards the air.

"Blindfold still blocking everything, yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah," he confirms, "Can't see a thing."

"Good," you say, and then without an ounce of warning, you grip his cock, stroking down, pulling his foreskin back and plunging the hot wet gash of your mouth down and around his entire length, nose pressing into the sweaty curls at his base.

The shout he lets out is delicious. Loud and strangled, half an exclamation, half a curse–"Fuck baby, Jesus fuckin' Christ that mouth feels so fucking good. I don't fuckin' deserve you, don't deserve how fuckin' perfect you are, how good you make me feel-"

You bob your head up and down, swallowing him deep and then pulling back, making sure to swirl your tongue along his head.

"So damn good," he gasps, and his words are stilted and broken.

You keep going, for maybe a minute, maybe an hour. The sensation is too much and he's panting and gasping. "I can't-" he cries, "you're gonna make me come, please-"

You pull off immediately, and he hisses at the loss of your lips around him, and then moans into your mouth when you lean in to lick against his tongue, letting him taste every bit of his own musk.

"You're doing good, baby," you praise, loving the way he shudders in response. "Now hold still, I'm gonna ride that cock."

You straddle his hips, swipe your cunt along his length, feeling the way he shakes and twitches against you. You're wet, so damn turned on, soaking, trailing your slick along him as you rut up against him. Then, you fist his cock and, excruciatingly slowly, sink down onto him.

The broken wail that escapes his lips is delicious, ragged and beautiful.

You bounce up and down, watching with pleasure as Joel's fingers twitch, like he's trying so hard not to reach for you, grab for you like he usually does.

You rock along his length, sliding up and down, nearly unseating him from you before sinking back down. You find the right angle for his cock head to press just right against that sweet spot and feel your legs start to shake.

"I can feel it," he grunts, teeth bared, "Feel you getting close."

"Think you deserve to feel me come around you?" You ask, and you can feel it approach. "Think you can feel me come all over this dick and you won't come yourself?"

"Yes, sir," he cries out, "I'll be so good for you. Won't come till you let me."

"Good boy," you stroke his cheek and rub your thumb over your clit in punishing circles, feel your pussy start to clench.

"Gonna ride this out," you tell him, and feel yourself tip over the edge with a broken gasp. Your walls throb around him, pulsing tightly, and Joel looks absolutely pained as you slam yourself down him over and over, practically choking his cock with your tightness.

You're heaving and half-overstimulated but the way he looks wrecked is so beautiful you need more.

"Think you can handle another one?" You ask and he splutters a gasp.

"Already?" he breathes.

You keep your thumb pressing circles round your clit as you keep riding.

"Already." You agree. You've barely finished riding through the aftershocks but you're so wound up, you know you can get yourself there quickly.

"Fuck," Joel whines, "Oh god, oh god-"

You feel yourself start to tip over the edge again and Joel's face is screwed up in concentration, doing his absolute best not to bust in you before he has your permission. His cheeks and chest are flushed, sweat dripping down his temple, soaking into the blindfold. He breathes ragged, heaving breaths and the sight before you makes you come all that much harder.

"God, you feel so fucking good, baby," you tell him, and your pussy's still clenching around him, your slick gushing around him, drenching his thighs.

You pull off of him and he chokes at the loss of contact.

"Gotta taste us now, baby. Clean this pussy up. When you're done, I'll let you come."

He nods, eager, and opens his mouth, his tongue waiting to taste you.

"Need you down the bed," you tell him, and he scoots down, tongue still out. You climb up his body, straddling his stomach and his chest, trailing slick all up his torso, before resting your knees on either side of his face and slowly lowering down.

He's so dedicated, the moment he feels your heat near him you can see the way his mouth waters, his tongue darting out to find your folds. He licks you deep and long, groaning at the taste.

"How do we taste?" you ask, and his exhale is shaky and rough.

"Never tasted anythin' this good in my life." He tells you, wrecked. "We taste so fuckin' good together. Could drink ya all day long."

"We might have to try that," you ponder, "But for now, I just need you to give me one more. Can you do that? One more, baby boy?"

"Fuck, yes sir." He nods his head vigorously and reaches his neck up to press his lips back to your dripping cunt.

"Yeah, that's it. Nice long strokes now, yeah? You gotta swallow every drop of me baby, every drop of this pussy juice I can give you."

He grunts an affirming noise and does as you ask. Long licks from taint to clit. Deep, hot, laving wetness, making you jerk and mewl, riding his face like he was made to take it. Maybe he was.

"When it's good and clean," you instruct, "I need you to focus on this clit, yeah? That's it, baby, point your tongue. Press hard. I've already come twice and I'm nearly numb– Need that extra bit of sensation if you're gonna get me off right, and I know you will get me off right if you wanna come tonight."

Every sound he makes is akin to a whine, a gasp, a sob. He buries his face deep, at one point nearly reaching up to grab your thighs and pull you closer, but he realizes his mistake before he starts to touch you.

"Good boy remembering the rules," you praise, and you grab him by the wrists, holding them against the bed, above his head. You sink lower, letting yourself nearly suffocate him, but he doesn't mind. He loves it. Growls into your pussy and eats you till tears are pooling in his eyes and your legs are trembling so hard you're worried any extra sensation might topple you over. It's building quick and fast and so fucking nice.

"Joel, I-" you stumble, nearly unable to speak. Overwhelmed. "I think I'm gonna come again." You say, and you feel the rumble of his affirmation against you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes just like that, you eat pussy so fucking good, I'm gonna, I'm gonna-"

You come with a scream, thighs smothering him, hips rocking against his chin, his tongue, his nose. The scratch of his patchy beard feels incredible against your soft skin and you fuck his face hard, less careful than ever before about how you sink into him.

Catching your breath, sated, you pull yourself up and off Joel, licking his face clean of your cum as you allow him to catch his breath.

"Done so good for me," you tell him, "You ready to come now too?"

"Yes-" he cries, still gasping for breath, "Yes, sir."

"Can't believe we've never done this before," you praise, "You're a natural. Just gotta give up a little control like a good boy, let daddy make you feel good."

He shudders and twitches, groaning at the name you've given yourself.

You turn your attention back to his cock and nearly gasp. It looks red and angry with need, precum catching at his foreskin before overflowing, streaming down his length.

"Where do you want to come?" you ask him, giving him this one concession.

"Huh?" he asks, clearly surprised.

"In me?" you suggest, "On me? Pick a hole. Pick a body part. It's yours."

"Jesus," he groans, and thinks. "Your mouth," he decides, "Wanna come in that sweet mouth."

"It's yours."

You seat yourself at the end of the bed and give him a few kitten licks, loving the way he hisses as you clean the arousal off of him. "You can come for me whenever you want, now, baby," you tell him. "Did so good, I think you deserve it."

"Thank you," he cries, "Fuck, thank you baby."

You pull his foreskin back again and wrap your lips around his throbbing head, loving the taste of the tangy musk of the nectar spilling from him. You don't go down far, just around the head and back again, just a little. Sucking hard. Licking. Drinking him in. He shudders and gasps and cries and you're pretty sure he's weeping at this point, his hips bucking up, pressing his cock deeper and deeper down your throat.

You let him. He's certainly earned it by now.

In a few moments, his thrusts get erratic, and you run your teeth gently along the pulsing veins, marveling at the beautiful, intricate web of life that rushes through him, red and hot and so close to the surface. Blood pumping so fast and thick.

"I'm comin'-" he chokes, and suddenly, hot sputtering bursts of cum filling your mouth, coming and coming and coming till it's dripping out the sides of your lips and dripping down your chin.

You keep a hand around the base of his cock, jacking him gently till you're sure everything he has to give is in you. Running a hand up his body, you delight in the harsh, heavy breaths he gasps out.

Groping around his head, you pull at the blindfold, tugging gently till it's pulled above his eyes. He scrunches them closed for a moment, readjusting to the lit room, before looking at you, jaw dropped.

You're sitting before him, totally bare, skin sticky with sweat, thighs glistening, and his cum in your mouth, except for where it's dripped down your chin and breasts. You open your mouth to show him, just for a moment, and then swallow, delighting in the way he groans at the sight. Then you wipe your chin with the back of your hand, lick it up, and pull him up towards you so you can kiss him properly.

He grabs you by the back of the head and pulls you in, hungry and sated at the same time.

"That was so good, honey," he tells you, "So fucking good."

You give him a gentle kiss to his forehead, enjoying the sensation of your sweaty, sticky bodies pressed against one another. His tears, unimpeded now, are streaming down his cheeks but he's grinning like a maniac.

"Never thought you'd let someone fuck you blindfolded like that," you tell him and he snorts.

"Me neither," he admits, "But- I trust you. And I'm workin' on it. On bein'- vulnerable."

"I liked it."

"Me too."

"So, can I tie you up next time?"

Joel snorts. "We'll see. Might need at least a week to recover from this one."

"We'll see," you agree, smirking. "We will see."

#tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller x nb!reader #sub!joel miller

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plexivie · 11 months

Text

for me?

"cmon get your ass up now."

Today you're training with Bakugou. And surprisingly, he is a great sparring partner. He always pushes you to do better and makes sure you are not slacking off.

He is pretty cute too. You've always had a tiny deniable crush on him. He's almost perfect. His hair, his eyes, his strength. It's amazing. But you knew he would never like you. You were... average. You weren't as pretty as some of the other girls, not as strong. But, over the years, you kind have gotten used to it. Others being better than you doesn't affect you anymore. That's why training with Bakugou isn't bad at all.

"c'mon idiot. I don't have time for you being lazy as hell."

You did as he said and got up into a fighting stance. Your quirk wasn't the strongest, but hey, you got into UA.

You two were practicing behind the UA dorms. It was a quiet, empty place back there.

You guys were fighting, hard. He was blowing explosions every chance he got. It was all going well until you fell... 30 feet to the ground.

You've never screamed so loud in your life. Before you could reach the ground, you passed out.

"shit"

Bakugou ran to catch you. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let you get hurt like that. Luckily, he caught you, but when he saw you were passed out, he was scared.

"tsk idiot."

He carried you to Recovery Girls office, just to fix any injuries that may have happened. He waited forever for you to wake up. The quirk made you sleep for too damn long. But once he saw your eyes fluttering the tiniest bit, he was there waiting for you.

You groaned. You had the WORST headache. You felt like everything was spinning, until you saw him. He made everything feel more, calm.

"shit are you okay?"

You never expected him to want to know if you were okay.

"yea I think so."

He let out a breath of relief.

"good, I wouldn't know what I would have done with myself if I let you get hurt."

He looked away.

"thanks"

You were so happy how sweet he was being. You've never seen him like this before with.... anyone.

"be... safer next time, got it?"

You nodded.

"why do you care about my safety so much anyways?"

You were expecting a snarky answer but no, you got

"because I like you idiot."

You were never so surprised in your life. Me? Why would he like me? I'm nothing special.

"me? why?"

He looked annoyed by this.

"what do you mean why. there's nothing not to like about you. I like how you give me a challenge. especially when training. that shit... makes me happy or whatever."

He blushed a bit, and so did you.

"you really think that about me?"

He just nods. Maybe out of embarrassment.

"yea idiot"

You smile and look away. I don't know what made you say this but

"I like you too. like a lot. I just didn't think you ever like me back."

He scoffed.

"I don't know why but whatever. anyway, let's go. I've been sitting in this shitty office for hours waiting for your ass to wake up, so c'mon."

You got up a little dizzy, but you could manage.

"let me... hold your hand or whatever. I don't want you to hurt yourself again."

You've never smiled more in your life. His hands were so warm and comforting.

You guys had already started walking back. While you guys were walking you could tell he had something to say.

"hey, you look like you have something on your mind."

He just looks away.

"Yea I guess."

"well, what is it?"

He just stops walking and turns to you. He doesn't say anything to you at all he just... kisses you. The walk back was silent until you reached your dorm door.

"hey I was wondering if you would want to come hike with me tomorrow or whatever."

You nodded happily smiling.

"great."

He then started walking away again until he stopped and turned around to face you.

"stay safe for me ok?"

You smiled happy as ever.

This was a fun write. Let me know if any of you want more! (pls repost for me <3)

#mha #mha bakugou #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #fem reader #fluff #my hero x reader #my hero fanfic #bhna x reader #cuteness #adorable

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ladyvlolypop · 1 year

Text

Bucky Barnes Headcanons

these are both dating and overall head canons, if you think the writing is a little out of my usual type it's because I wrote these while

My Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader; sfw

Very gentle, his touches are very soft and he tries to avoid being harsh with you, knowing he’s way stronger than you(and because he’s unsure of his metal arm).

When he passes you he gives you subtle touches, his hand on your hip or waist for a brief moment.

He used to smoke when he was a soldier. Heavy smoker and drinker but he never touched a cigarette again after he became the winter soldier, not because he didn’t want to but he just didn’t want to be addicted to anything.

He can definitely speak and understand bits of german and italian because he was stationed in Austria and Italy during the war. He speaks french as well but much better(we love a multilingual king)

He understands russian perfectly but struggles to speak or write/read it. He understands bits of other slavic/balkan languages as well(if you speak russian freshen up his skills a little pls)

He sometimes still stares in awe at modern things, he imagined the world differently in the 30's. Will sometimes tell you how certain spaces changed and how they used to look like back in the day.

He likes to tell you about his childhood, liking to compare how you two grew up

Has lots oft things to catch up to

Has a flip phone w a loud ass ringtone

Jumps a little when hearing his ringtone

He has a smartphone for work but he barely uses it

Loves fantasy shows/movies and reading

LOTR and GOT fan honestly

Likes baking and cooking but he’s not good at it, he’s thankful for microwaveable meals and your cooking

Can’t ride a bike

Can’t drive, learned it just before infinity war happened

He probably let his his metal arm get hot in the sun and cracked an egg on it with sam

It fried

You only call him 'James' if it's serious or if it's to tease him

will use nicknames like "Doll", "Babygirl", "Honey","Darlin'(g)" or "Dear" for you

Uses lotion for his scars

would fold if you did it for him, def will offer to do the same for you(he gives really good messages let him)

Has a routine for his beard when he lets it grow out, likes to keep himself groomed

Same for his hair

Has insane home remedies

Pulls out chernobyl broth when you have a feet ache(boils sprite)(He read about it on facebook)

Doesn’t trust italians

He’s such a dad

Dad jokes all the way

Enjoys shopping for home gadgets

Knows how to haggle and will show his skills when he can

Will often come home with surprise groceries or gifts, things or snacks you like or some other stuff he got on sale

Likes to go to flea markets

Sometimes comes home with large amounts of certain products

Man will come home with 3 boxes of fruit because there was a sale

Love language is definitely gift giving and acts of service

Carries your bags or groceries for you without asking, pretty good at fixing things around the house

He’s good with kids, wants his own but unsure when the right timing for it would be

He sometimes shows them tricks with his metal arm

He’s not much of a talker unless you two are alone

Often rants about work

Good listener though, very attentive listener

He sleeps like a bear, very warm and keeps close to you, his arm cools down at night though and you might wake up with the feeling of cold metal against your belly

He started sleeping better when you were with him, still you will sometimes find him sleeping on the floor in the mornings, old habits die hard.

He’s very stubborn, especially if it's about your safety but he hates arguing with you

He hates the possibility of you getting hurt in any way

You're on his mind all the time

walks around with the thoughts of "would Y/N like that? Should I buy them that?"

first thing he does when coming home after missions is give you a tight hug

if it's really bad all he wants to do is hold you closely and cuddle for hours

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

if you think the writing is a little out of my usual type it's because I wrote these while on a call with my bsf and she was poorly singing lana del ray songs in my ear, some of these hc were even here ideas

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes domestic hc #bucky barnes fluff #x reader #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine

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judgementdaysunshine · 8 months

Note

Dominik Mysterio request pls

Aww (heard this in an edit of him and listened to it while writing this)

Out of place

Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Fem reader

Description: You show Dom the love and affection he had given up on wanting when he breaks down from the demons that plague him

Every flash of a memory made him feel more alone than ever before, each one holds a feeling and emotion that he still carries inside him feeling it slowly stab his heart. You walk in the room after showering and getting dressed in shorts and his shirt only to see him lost in thought while sitting on the bed with tears pouring out of his eyes and begins to sob heartbreakingly, you sweep his hair to the side of his shoulder before holding his face in your hands "Baby what's going on? Look at me" he looks at you with the most haunting, broken, and lonely look that you could never forget feeling your heart being ripped out of you as he shakes with sobs while leaning his head against your stomach "God I was never good enough...why couldn't they love me?" tears burn in your eyes at the words that spilled from his soul out in the vulnerable and open to you holding him tightly moving his head to your shoulder an arm wrapped around his torso and the other on his shoulder holding the back of his head with your hand stroking his hair "I have never felt like I was home, that I belonged, and that I was or could....love" you squeeze him as he sobs loudly against you. He holds you tightly as he slowly calms down afraid of you leaving if he let you go, you rock side to side while holding him before pulling away to look at him wiping his face gently kissing his cheek "I'm out of place...broken, unwanted, different" you place another on his temple as you lay down opening your arms for him, he lays on top of you with his head on your chest "You've always been different, but that doesn't make you unworthy of being human like everyone else" you run your hands under his shirt rubbing his back and sides occasionally lightly scratching his body with your nails or rubbing spots of his body that you would massage when he was sore after matches always relaxing him along with your soft voice speaking to him, "You are not alone, broken, unwanted, unloved, or a burden baby... ever since I've met you, you've changed me and my life in many ways that i thoight could never happen to me" he looks at you feeling more love for you than he already had when he realized he loved you "You are the only person that could ever make me feel like I was home no matter where we are as long as you are with me it doesn't matter" he smiles feeling an unconditional and overwhelming sense of love as you kiss his forehead "I love you my love" he lifts you as he moves up. You kiss him tenderly slowly peppering kisses on his face with him kissing you back in between you scattering your lips across his jaw and neck smiling sweetly and teary eyed never having felt so much love in one moment especially in such a vulnerable way "Whenever you're out of place, I'll always be with you to bring you home" that is what makes him hold your face and kiss you with a smile laying down holding you in his arms with your foreheads connected and intertwining your hands together "I love you mi mundo, I could never thank you enough for just being with me" you wipe a tear off his face "You never have to thank me, that's what love is" you hold each other whispering sweetly until you were tangled together asleep leaving dom filled with a new sense of safety, vulnerability, unconditional love, belonging, and home in your arms.

#wwe x reader #dominik mysterio #dominik mysterio x reader #wwe

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too-sxft-for-all-of-it · 1 month

Note

hello! could i request headcanons for cg luka and/or adrien from miraculous pls? ^w^

sure thing! i haven't been active in miraculous for a while (and i never did write for luka), but i did my best here:

Caregiver!Luka Couffaine Headcanons ₊˚⊹♡

he carries his guitar everywhere already, but one of his main reasons is because he knows it soothes you, and he always wants to be prepared to help calm you down if needed

he loves to write you songs and melodies, he can barely go a day without creating something for you

he set up a music system to help you communicate when you go non-verbal. he gives you a keyboard, and you have a system of notes for different words, letters, and numbers, and all you have to do is play them for him so he knows what you need

whenever he's viperion, he always keeps a close eye on you and makes sure you're away from danger. at first, he didn't tell you it was him, but you knew. one time while he was relocating you to safety, you said "thank you, luka" and he was like "🧍..you're welcome". you talked about it once he returned and you help him keep his secret now

whenever you decide to come to one of his concerts, he makes sure no one overdoes anything- he doesn't want to overwhelm you

he's a huge cuddler when it comes to you. he loves to hold you, and will do so for hours until you're done. he'll hold you throughout the night, never letting go once

☁ ˟𐬿ᣞ∘ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜꜱᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ 〜⚝〜 ꜱꜰᴡ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ! ˟𐬿ᣞ∘ ☽

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willsimpforanyone · 1 year

Note

could u PLS make a part 3 of the dio kid x Leo Valdez thing I love it sm and I think it has potential to be a fic

i've got a couple requests for more parts of a couple imagines this is so cool also yes 100% i love the dio!reader x leo

as a reminder this is a son of dionysus!reader x leo valdez and you can read the previous parts below

[part 1] [part 2]

------------------------------------

it's been about a week since the party where leo first saw you

he's been trying to be around you as much as possible

you're just

there's something about you

something that makes him want to follow you to the ends of the earth and off the edge

something that has bewitched him heart, mind and soul

something that piper is tired of hearing about

"dude, just ask him out! you like him! clearly he likes you! if you don't do it, i'll do it for you"

leo scrambles at that

"no no no don't do that, i'm a big boy, i can ask out my own people, thanks"

piper smirks but surrenders

"go, now, before i have to hear about his damn eyes again"

leo vacates the aphrodite cabin, shaking his head at the fact that he's friends with one of the only aphrodite kids that wouldn't want to hear everything about his crush

"watch where you're going!"

leo jerks his head up just in time to swerve you

you're carrying armour in your arms and catch yourself to stay on balance

leo grins

"sorry, i should always been looking out for you"

instead of smiling back, you scowl

"yeah sure, just get out of my way"

there's a different aura around you now

your knuckles are white, your eyes tinged with red

leo swears he smells cheap liquor

he takes a step back, allowing you to pass

well, that's not great

he almost turns right back around to tell piper but he has to know what's wrong

you're normally so sweet

but you've left a tangy taste in his mouth

slightly hesitant, he follows you

you stomp to the armory, dumping the metal on the floor and breathing hard

there are no questions as the couple of kids working in the armory pick up the mess and scurry away from you

for a minute you're still and he wonders if he should approach you

instead you take off running, heading for the forest

you don't seem to have any weapons and that's enough to make leo worried for your safety

you don't seem to notice him, too focused on your inner world

there's a rage, a madness building inside you and the forest is the safest place to be right now

you can't hurt anyone when there's no one in the forest

your skin is hot and your chest is heaving

you make it to a clearing in the forest before you collapse on your knees

there's a smile on your face, wide and unnatural

leo pauses behind a tree, anxious

your shoulders start shaking and leo takes a step forward

you must be crying

it's only when he gets a little closer that he realises you're laughing

your arms are wrapped around your middle and you're laughing hysterically

you can't breathe, trying to take in air before laughter is forced out of your lungs

tears are streaming down your face and the rage manifests in your stomach and your hands and your eyes

wide and staring and glazed over

it's been a while since you've had to deal with this

normally you can get your anger under control

dio kids can get annoyed easily, tending towards slight moodswings they can usually control

but sometimes it's a bad day and nothing seems to go right and you can feel it bubbling under your skin ready to boil over

the first time it happened you were 6 and you wrecked your bedroom in your mom's house because she wouldn't let you run around outside

in hindsight it made sense, it was dark out and you were 6

didn't stop you at the time, you just knew that this energy had to go somewhere and you just barely remember laughing like you were breaking

now the forest was where you went to deal with it

there was no surpressing it when it was this strong

cheers dad, making it feel like you should be sectioned

you lose track of how long you're out here

you end up laying on the ground, breathing heavily and dealing with the pain in your stomach

leo decides now to edge from behind the tree

you don't have the energy to look up

"if you're a monster, either kill me with one swing or leave me alone"

"well that's a concerning statement"

leo stands over you, water bottle in hand

you accept the bottle and his invitation to sit up and lean against a tree

"i probably wasn't supposed to see that, huh?"

you give the tiniest smile

"no, no you weren't. sorry you did, though. it's some scary shit"

leo nods, but stays close to you

"you okay now?"

you swallow down half the water

"usually i'm the one giving people drinks and making sure they're okay"

leo shoots you a small smile

"that's not an answer"

you duck your head

"no, it's not"

you roughly wipe the tear tracks from your face, embarrassed that you were caught in your mania

"doesn't happen often, if that helps"

leo nods, and shuffles closer

"okay. you don't want to talk about it, i get that. just-"

he pauses, looking for the right words

"-tell me you're safe, i guess? maybe let me know when you're gonna go batshit?"

that gets a tired laugh that rattles your chest and scratches your throat

"yeah. yeah, okay"

you slump down a little, relaxing, exhausted, leaning into leo

"you're gonna be there for me, huh?"

carefully, leo wraps an arm around your shoulders, hoping you can't hear how fast his heart is beating

"yeah. yeah, 'course i am"

----------------------------------

ooo the drama lmao

hope you enjoyed, thank you for requesting!!

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo imagine #leo valdez #son of dionysus!reader #male!reader #leo valdez x male!reader

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niki-phoria · 1 year

Note

I'd like to see a Hyuka x Male!Reader fic where Kai finds reader crying, and reader tries to hide it. Maybe it's because rumors of their relationship are starting to spread and Reader is scared of what people are going to say and what's already being said?

Just want some fluffy Kai comfort tbh. Lol.

he's so gorgeous sndkneklnsl the eye makeup ?? sir pls have mercy i beg of you

pairing: huening kai x male!6th member!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: hurt comfort (slight emphasis on the hurt) word count: 932

warnings: homophobia, reader has a panic attack

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i made this into an idol au because it made the most sense to me if that makes sense ?? i got a little carried away with this but i tried to keep it a fluffy at the end. i hope you like it :))

requests open !! read my rules first

(fic begins utc bc of the warnings)

‘i hope they’re not actually together’

‘kai’s too good for him’

‘hopefully they’re just friends. hybe wouldn’t debut gay idols. especially not in the same group together.’

you squeeze your eyes shut, throwing your phone across your bed. it feels pathetic - crying over negative comments on a forum, but you can’t help it. hundreds of people all talking about how they hope your relationship isn’t real or making jokes about your appearance. your frustration and hurt builds in your chest until it presses down onto your chest so hard that it feels like it’s literally squeezing your heart. you can feel yourself cracking under the pressure. bit by bit you retracted further into yourself until you felt like a shell of a person, even in the safety of your own bed.

“y/n?” you don’t hear the door creaking open, or kai’s soft gasp as he rushes over to you. “oh, honey,” he whispers, slowly holding a hand out. he rubs your shoulder, kneeling down at the side of your bed. you push your face deeper into your pillow. all of your walls feel like they’re collapsing around you. the rubble from things you created hurt you even more. your breath seeps from your lungs quicker than you can take more in. it feels like you’re suffocating.

you choke on your tears, sitting up enough to bury your face into kai’s shoulder. he rubs a comforting hand against your back. “it’s okay,” he whispers. “i’m here. it’s okay.” your tears stain the fabric of his oversized hoodie. you cling to him desperately as if he’ll disappear as soon as you open your eyes.

“breathe, y/n,” he whispers. he pulls back enough to look into your eyes. “slowly, baby. come on, breathe for me.”

you force yourself to focus on his breathing. air pushes back into your lungs until you can finally relax enough to not feel like you’re drowning. kai wipes the tears from your cheeks as he pulls you back into a hug, letting you continue to cry against his chest.

you’re not sure how long you spend sitting there, crying against your boyfriend. kai’s hand rubs your back the entire time. he slips it underneath your shirt so you can feel the warmth of his skin against your own. you focus on the feeling to calm yourself down.

you grip kai’s hoodie when you finally pull away. your breath hitches as he raises his hands to wipe your tears away. the softness of the gesture seeps into your chest, slowly replacing the hurt that was present before. “do you want to talk about it?” he whispers. his voice is quiet. it drips with honey. you shake your head. he slightly nods in acknowledgement. “okay. come here,” he wraps his arms around you again, holding you close. you let go of his hoodie, hiding your face into his neck instead.

kai moves his hand down underneath your legs, picking you up bridal style. he carries you into the living room, setting you down on the couch before momentarily going into the kitchen to set the kettle to boil. he pulls your favorite blanket over your shoulders when he returns before rushing to his room. he returns with a penguin plush, holding it out to you with a small smile. you recognize it. it’s from your first date - you went to a carnival together under the guise of being two friends hanging out. you won the plush for him after noticing him continuously glancing at it every time you passed by a specific game. he had kissed you for the first time afterwards; pressing his lips against yours in the midst of his excitement. you had never seen him blush so much before.

your lips slightly quirk upwards into a small smile as you gratefully take it, holding it against your chest. you don’t notice kai’s own smile growing as he returns to the kitchen. he pulls two mugs out of the cabinet and pours two cups of tea before carefully carrying them back into the living room.

you open your blanket cocoon for kai, urging him to lay with you. he immediately takes the opportunity to all but jump into your arms. you maneuver your body around his so he’s laying behind you, arm wrapped around your waist. your back lays pressed against his chest as you cuddle up beside him.

kai reaches over to grab the tv remote, cueing up the spiderman movies. this has always been your favorite pastime with him - cuddling as you take turns picking movies to watch. sometimes you make sweets or open bags of chips and share the snacks between you. other times - times like today - you’re so desperately in need of comfort that you don’t bother to grab any food. instead you immediately grab your fluffiest blankets and softest plushes to cuddle with as one of you cues an old movie to rewatch.

a warm feeling of safety and love falls over you. with a grateful smile, you nuzzle deeper into his hold. slowly, the exhaustion of the day begins to hit you. wrapped in kai’s arms with a blanket over you both and a reminder of your love held against your chest you begin to fall asleep.

kai notices quickly, moving to pull you even closer against him. he leans down to press a kiss against the skin at junction between your neck and shoulder. “i love you, y/n. you can tell me anything. never forget that.”

“i love you too,” you whisper, falling asleep with a small smile on your face.

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 10 months

Note

Can I pls request a day in Joker's life while taking care of baby Ellis from your previous work? I keep rereading that particular writing of yours because of the delicious angst 👌 I'd like to see how he takes care of his baby while leading a circus troupe and caring for his sick wife at the same time, while actively having to follow the Baron's orders. Just pile on the fluff and angst as much as u want to. Thank you ❤️

ohohoho what a compliment! <3

listen, y'all are supposed to say angst me mommy when you request shit like this... but... I guess I'll let it slide ;P

JUST MAKE SURE U CAN LIVE WITH WHAT YOU'VE UNLEASHED HERE BECAUSE WHEW-

JOKER’s days start earlier than ever now.

The one solace is that he gets to sleep in the same bed as his wife and wake up next to her in the morning. He gets to roll over, pressed against her, and give her a kiss… cuddle with her for a precious few minutes before the day truly begins. He gets to murmur that he loves her so much, lips painting those words onto her skin, because sometimes he worries that with all the hours he spends away from her, she might not know if he didn’t say it.

He gets to rise and greet his little baby, who’s nearing three months old now. Still just as darling as the day he was born. Although (Name) is getting stronger as she recovers on the treatment plan that the Baron’s doctor gave her, most of the time she only gets up for a few minutes to feed Ellis in the morning.

Joker likes to let her sleep in. He gets up before sunrise, and it’s not fair that she should have to do the same.

Thankfully, Ellis is much less fussy after eating breakfast… and Joker has learned, the hard way, not to bounce the infant on his knee for at least an hour after he eats. (To be fair, Peter also learned that the hard way whilst trying to get Ellis to stop wailing after feeding him a bottle. The fast-paced, busy nature of being a ringleader means that his child has been briefly left with each of the other troupe members at least once, so at least he’s not the only one who’s been spit up on.)

Once he’s made sure Ellis has a quick bath and is wearing clean clothes, it’s time to head over to the fairground. The small bag he carries during the morning is packed fast ― a few nappies and safety pins, a can of Mellin’s that the Baron oh-so graciously provides, a bottle, and a toy in case Ellis needs entertainment.

Then comes the hardest part; leaving (Name). Despite the fact that he’s only going to be gone for the morning, he’ll come home for a brief tea and to drop Ellis off… it still hurts to leave. It feels like he sees so little of her during the day. He almost wishes he didn’t have to go run the circus. One of these days he’s just going to say fuck it all, leave one of the others in charge for a day, and spend the whole morning here at the manor with his wife and child.

He perches himself on the bed with Ellis cradled against his chest in his good arm, and leans down to give his wife a kiss. A soft murmur of, “’Ey, darlin’, I’m off tae work wit’ Ellis now, alrigh’? I’ll be back this afternoon. Love ye,” falls from his lips against hers.

She returns the sentiment with a groggy smile and gives him her usual reply of, “Mmh, okay, sweetheart. See you then. I love you more.”

It kills him to leave. He does anyway… only after carefully tucking the covers back around her to replace how he moved them when he got up. The baby bag is slung over his shoulder, and he looks down at Ellis. “C’mon, wee lad. Let’s let y’r mama sleep ‘n’ we’ll go start our day. Get tae see all y’r aunts ‘n’ uncles.”

With that, he slips out the bedroom door and through the estate’s back exit, and he heads toward the fairground.

By the time he gets to the mess tent to grab a bite, the rest of the first-stringers are nearly done with breakfast. Thank God he gets to spend a short while with them before the hectic rush of the day sets in, or else he’s sure he’d never survive till afternoon. As soon as he sets the bag down and takes a seat, his free hand starts to dig in to the plate the others have fixed for him. “Mornin’, all. How’s ev’ryone doin’?”

As his family all mumble variations of, “Jus’ fine, not bad,” Freckles squeals and reaches over to take Ellis. “Aaaaah, y’ brought the baby!! Oiii, Ellis, sweet boy, c’mere ‘n’ spend some time with y’r Auntie Freckles while Papa eats!”

Sitting next to them, Wendy reaches over to ruffle Ellis’ little mop of auburn hair. “Joker, y’ gotta tell this kid t’ stop growin’. ‘e was jus’ a li’l, tiny thing, then we turn round ‘n’ ‘e’s gettin’ so big already.”

Peter beside her scoffs. “Oi, yeah, at this rate ‘e’s gonna end up taller’n us. Tell ‘im t’ cut it out; I don’t need someone thir’y years younger’n me towerin’ over me like some giant!”

“Aw, would y’ shut y’r yap? It’s big enough t’ make up f’r the rest’a y,” Freckles giggles, leaning down simply so Ellis can grab and play with their hair. “We should be ‘appy ‘e’s growin’! Look at ‘im, ‘e’s jus’ perfect.” When the baby coos and laughs at them, with a fistful of their hair in his hand, they look up at the ringleader almost pleadingly. “Oh, my God, Joker, I want one!!”

Joker has to pause to take a drink so he doesn’t choke on the last bite he took. God, they’re so funny… and yet, he knows they desperately want to start a family like he has. He almost feels bad that he ‘beat’ them to doing so. “Hah! Well, then, ye better find a beau an’ get busy, Doll, ‘cause that one’s mine!”

Dagger nudges Freckles in the ribs with his elbow. “Yeah, I think (Name) would ‘ave somethin’ t’ say ‘bout y’ takin’ ‘er baby!”

“Oh, yeah?” The fact that Ellis tugs on their hair apparently doesn’t dissuade them from wanting to keep him. They just grin bigger. “Bring ‘er ‘ere, I’ll fight ‘er! Winner takes ‘im!”

Everybody shares a laugh, and soon it tapers off into more subdued chatter as the meal is finished. It’s a welcome few moments before the day begins in full.

Joker lets Freckles keep holding the baby, making sure they’re fine to watch him for a few minutes as he makes his morning rounds. Of course, they don’t mind a bit. They’re probably disappointed they don’t get to spend more than a few minutes with him.

Things are always bustling in the morning, bright and full of activity when he walks around the tents. The second-stringers are heading to get breakfast now that the first-stringers are done, and the rest of his little family are practicing or getting ready to do so. He sees some of the newer members hurrying back from the mess tent, food in hand, to gather round Jumbo; as he often does during downtime, he’s started to play his harmonica.

Maybe he’s become soft, too soft, after Ellis’ birth, but Joker lets himself linger for a moment. He puts a hand on the newbies’ shoulders and sings along to the harmonica’s tune. Makes a few puns, gets a couple of laughs. Smiles at everyone. As much as he considers only the other first-stringers, his wife, and child his real family, he’s started to feel more and more like a father to the new members, especially the young ones.

After all, every single one of them was somebody’s child once. Don’t they all deserve to feel loved and protected like that?

His heart leaps into his throat when he thinks about his own baby. He remembers what he must have been thinking when he agreed to the Baron’s deal after Ellis was first born; Joker feels everything so intensely, just the hint of a future grief trying to raise his little boy without his wife was more than he could bear. Because Ellis is his, because (Name) is his, he can’t help but feel like they deserve all that love and protection more than anyone else.

Is he selfish for thinking that? Is he, or is that how everyone feels about their wives and children?

His voice trails off before he knows it, mind haunted by the shadow of future grief replaced by a future in which he’s eaten alive by guilt.

Soon enough, he disappears, shaken by his own thoughts, and collects his baby from Freckles. They give Ellis kisses on the head and pout when they have to relinquish him. The infant giggles in response; tugging a few strands of their hair in his little hand.

As Joker takes Ellis back against his own chest, he looks at Freckles. He hopes they get their own baby someday, someday soon if they meet the right person, and he prays they don’t make the same mistakes he’s made.

The day passes as normally as any day has passed by this point. Joker is sure it’s funny to watch him rehearsing whilst holding Ellis. Although he never moves around too much like this, it must be a sight to see him moving and pointing and gesturing with his bad arm with a baby nestled up in the crook of his good arm.

Not only that, Ellis makes all manner of little baby sounds. Which, while quite normal, are amusing additions to whatever Joker himself happens to be saying. In one breath he’s suggesting a change to the trapeze routine, and the next, Ellis is laughing at the sight of Peter missing his cue in such a way that his hat hits Wendy in the face. (Really. It’s entertaining in itself that not even a troupe full of troubled circus performers can resist laughing along after a baby starts to laugh. Even Peter and Wendy join in laughing.)

Despite the fact that his work is never really done, Joker has to leave shortly after they’ve all had tea. He’ll be back for the evening show, but now that Ellis has been fed, he’s been awake for long enough to start fussing because he’s sleepy. So it’s back to the Baron’s to put the baby down for a nap. Several hours of being fawned over and cooed at is tiring when you’re not very old, after all.

Besides… if Joker doesn’t go back for a short while, he won’t see (Name) again till he crawls into bed after midnight. He needs a few moments with her.

Thankfully, his darling wife is awake by afternoon. Even though she still gets tired easily, she’s usually regained some of her strength after being able to rest in the mornings. She’s not so weak anymore that just feeding the baby drains her, at least, and that means she’s in better spirits. Once Joker puts Ellis down, she’ll be able to stay up to watch him for the rest of the day.

Seeing her always perks him up. Just being able to kiss her and hold her in his arms for a couple of minutes is enough to get him through the rest of the day’s drudgery. Her smile, the sparkle of her eyes when she looks at him, the loving way she cradles Ellis before Joker sets him down in the crib… he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

Even though he wants to stay, he forces himself to slip out. One last kiss for his wife, one last kiss to the crown of his son’s head, and he has to head back to the fairground. If he doesn’t, he’ll just get greedy enough to not leave at all.

He’s at least resolved to get through the night once he returns to the circus. He keeps his memories close, and they drive him.

The show is a success. It always is. They all make sure to give the audience something spectacular to look at… and despite the fact that they’re certainly not getting rich, they manage to scrape by. They survive, they earn just enough so that no one has to go hungry. If nothing else, Joker can be proud of that.

Everyone is tired by the time night falls, but the first-stringers still have more to do. They all leave Snake to watch over everyone else, and they gather a short distance away from all the tents.

They all make their last adjustments — Freckles grumbling as they fidget with their parasol, Dagger trying to work out the kinks in his bad leg, Peter and Wendy quietly bickering in the affectionate way only siblings can. Joker’s almost unaware he’s been lost in thought until suddenly Beast is tightening his scarf like she thinks he’s about to catch his death of cold.

“Y’ need ta get some sleep,” she sighs.

He tilts his head, and he’s certain the smile he gives doesn’t meet his eyes. She can see right through it, at least. “Oi, I get ‘s much sleep as the rest’f ye lot.”

She scoffs. “No, y’ don’t. Ellis ain’t old enough t’ sleep through the night, which means you ain’t sleepin’ through the night. Y’re the only one’a us who’s got a baby. Wish y’d let (Name) come back ‘ere with ‘im. Maybe the two’a y’ might get some sleep if we take turns watchin’ ‘im at night.”

It’s painful for all of them. Beast feels guilty, too, he knows that; she also misses (Name)’s company. He knows everyone would be happier if she could have stayed here, especially after giving birth. Things just… didn’t work out that way. There would have been none of her staying here with how sick she got after Ellis was born. She might have died.

And now that she’s getting better… can he even bring her and Ellis back here? Everything is so different, so much worse.

“Soon,” he says softly, even though he’s not sure he means it. He gently brings Beast’s hand down, a silent reassurance that for right now, he’s fine. “She’s startin’ ta feel better… maybe she can come back soon.”

Beast huffs, and her eyes soften, and she shakes her head, and that’s the end of it. Distractions won’t serve them right now.

When they move into the streets, Joker notices that he still hesitates. Every move he and the others make, it puts him in physical pain. To do the things they’re doing, the things the Baron orders them to do… fuck. It makes him hate himself more than ever.

Least of all because if he doesn’t follow orders, then that’s it. His life is over.

If he talks back, if he shows regret, if he does anything that implies he’s questioning his ‘father’… then the Baron will cut off the medicine that’s been helping (Name) to recover. And he’s so done with Joker’s second guessing, he’s been threatening to pull out every little bit of security he’s affording the entire troupe.

If he doesn’t do these things that make him sick, his wife will die. His family will wither. Any chance at saving anything that’s meaningful to him disappears into thin air.

Once they’re all done for the night, once everyone else has returned to their tents, Joker has to stop on the way back to the Baron’s manor. He has to brace himself against a building and struggle to catch his breath.

He doesn’t know whether his body is trying to make him vomit or cry, but whichever it is, tears of strain and sorrow burst to life at the edges of his eyes regardless.

His throat is raw by the time his body decides to stop tormenting him. So his voice comes out raspy as he settles into bed, murmuring, “Jus’ me, darlin’,” when he puts his arms around (Name). He could barely look at Ellis upon walking into the room, his sweet baby fast asleep, after everything he’s done tonight.

He worries about both of them when he isn’t here. But they both seem alright, and his wife was just awake enough to be waiting for him. She rolls over to greet him, to kiss him goodnight, to snuggle in against his chest.

And he holds her, as tight as he possibly can without hurting her. Like she’s the one thing keeping his head above water.

He never sleeps well these days. He closes his eyes all the same, tired from the weight of this life he’s been living.

Tomorrow, he has to get up and do it all over again.

He knows he’s going to wake up more exhausted than he is falling asleep now.

His mind taunts him. How much longer can you keep all this up, Joker?

He doesn’t have an answer.

He just buries his face in (Name)’s neck, tells her one more time that he loves her, and lets sleep take him.

For the millionth time, he knows he will wake up to unanswered prayers.

At least, he thinks, he still has his family, his wife, and his child.

So for the millionth time, because of them, he prays anyway:

Please, God. Let things be better in the morning.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Joker #romantic #platonic #familial #angst #fluff #drama #I'M GONNA S C R E A M!!!! HOW DARE UUUUUU #... and honestly how dare ME for writing it #I promise I'll make the next thing in the queue really fluffy to make up for this XD #one hell of a queue

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years

Text

🦊 Being Inarizaki's Manager🦊

Miss Manager Dating Tendou

Tendo Satori featuring Inarizaki and Shiratorizawa x Female Manager

Warnings: kissing, Swearing

AN: This is an Anon request!

🌠 Please Like, Reblog and/or Share to help support my writing 🌠

SHIRATORIZAWA 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

I'll never get enough of that 🤣

Maybe I should say INARIZAKI 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻

Honestly YN the fact that you are a manager for Inarizaki 😗

So for this set of HC, we are going to pretend 🙌🏻 Shiratorizawa made it to nationals

Sorry Karasuno 😭

But yay Shiratorizawa

Ushiwaka is as stoked as ever 😐

Ok but pause for a second

How cool would a Shiratorizawa x Inarizaki match be 😍

I still want a Seijoh x Shiratorizawa match 😭

Ok enough of my desires, let's get to it 👏🏻

I'm going to do this one a little different

Because I think when Inarizaki first meets your future bf, they are going to be all protective

But I also think they will eventually get over it 😅

Legit Atsumu has like a 4 second memory at best

Suna will probably remember but eventually he will see how happy you are simply 🎆 let it go 🎆

So on that note 👀

You manage the powerhouse that is Inarizaki

More like a preschool but whatever

It's Nationals 🙌🏻 and your team is ready 👏🏻

All you have to do is fill the water bottles and return to the bench

Lucky for you, you just happened to bump into the back of a tall middle blocker 👀

"Oh my I'm so sorry!"- you

"Oh hi there! I didn't see you. Here let me help you"- adorable red haired man 😍

"Hey thanks! I'm YN by the way!"- you

"Tendou Satori at your service"- Tendou being so freaking cute I CANT 😭

You talk while you walk back to the gym and Tendou helps you carry the water bottles

"Yn- whose this?"- Aran

"Oh this is Tendou! He helped me carry the water bottles after I accidently ran into him" 😅

"We've got it from here"- Omimi

Now Omimi is not usually bothered by much

But in the case of other middle blockers, he's having none of that

Suna pulls up besides him and glares 😑

Kawanishi comes to get Tendou

"Thank you so much Tendou for all your help!"- you say, ignore the peanut gallery behind you 🥱

"No problem YN"- Tendou, winking at you 😉

Pls you can die happy now 🙂

You blush and it does not go unnoticed 😅

Omimi and Suna are fired up 🔥

Inarizaki isn't even playing Shiratorizawa but boy do they want too

Thoughts and prayers to the team playing Inarizaki 😃

After the game, you find yourself packing up in the hallway

Suddenly a tall man looms overhead

"Ahh Tendou! How was your game?"- you, adorable as ever 😍

"We won! How about yours?"- Tendou

"Same! We play tomorrow afternoon"- you

"Say would you like to take a walk later?"- Tendou

You 👉🏻☺️😍 absolutely

Congrats YN, you've made Tendou's life

Now to just figure out how to avoid your team 🤔

You figure you should tell someone just incase

You settle on Kita

Kita is the most rational and while he's concerned about your safety, he can see how excited you are

"Just text me often YN ok?"- Kita

Aye aye captain!

You meet Tendou and you guys walk and talk for hours

Honestly Tendou will never run out of talking points

It's so fun!

Seriously he's probably one of the most engaging guys in the hq world

You text Kita as instructed and have a blast

That is, until a certain someone comes looking for you 👀

"Where's YN? I need her help"- Atsumu

"She's out with Shiratorizawa's middle blocker she'll be back soon"- Kita, nonchalantly

Everyone's head whips to Kita

Literally I'm surprised they didn't snap their necks 😅

"What did you just say?"- Suna

"She's out with whom?"- Michinari

Kita doesn't even look up from his book

"Shiratorizawa's middle blocker, Tendou"- Kita, completely oblivious

Atsumu, Osamu and Suna all run out of the room

Aran is rolling his eyes

Kita finally looks up and is so confused 😅

Meanwhile you are getting dropped off outside by Tendou

"I had a really fun time Tendou thank you!"- you

"Me too YN! Say could I get your number and maybe we could hang out sometime?"- Tendou

You give him your number and end the night with a sweet hug 🫂

Too bad nothing sweet ever lasts 🥴

"Get away from YN!"- Atsumu

Osamu is pulling you behind him as Suna glares are steps in front of you

"Stop it you guys! Tendou was just bringing me home"- you say pushing Osamu and Suna out of the way

"I'm so sorry Tendou"

"No worries YN. I'll text you later ya?" Tendou 😏

"Yeah" ☺️☺️☺️

The guys are not growling YN please cage them 🤚🏻

"Will you three stop it?"- you, yelling at them as you shuffle them inside

The next few days keep you busy but you still manage to keep up texting with Tendou

I mean, please he's so fun to text

Constant memes ✔️ gifs ✔️ funny one liners ✔️

Mans is also an amazing listener!

Inarizaki notices you texting Tendou

Atsumu wants to say something but Kita shuts that down

"YN is still doing her job. Let her be"- Kita, the only voice of reason

The boys are grumpy up until it's time to leave

When you are packing the bus up to go home, Tendou comes running at you like a freaking train 🚆

"YN!!!! Wait I have to ask you something!"

You pause and wait as Tendou comes up to you, grabs your face and kisses you

You 👉🏻😳☺️

Atsumu and Osamu 👉🏻😱😱

Suna 👉🏻😐😑

Kita 👉🏻 not even paying attention he's loading the bus

"YN will you be my girlfriend?"- Tendou

He's bold I'll give him that 👏🏻

"Ummm YES"

Don't hesitate YN

YOLO 🤗

He smiles at you and you smile back, saying your fairwells and promising to see each other soon

You look at the guys who are all staring at you 😐

"What?"- you say, going back to your business

Oh boy YN, you really are asking for it now 🤣

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