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#so I hope it gets to someone who needs it
norrisleclercf1 · 2 days
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Have My Baby
Pairing: Mafia!Max x Reader
Words: 4.6K
Rating: R
Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, slight size kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), wrap it before you tap it, dirty talk, mention of murder, etc.
Synopsis: Max wants another baby, but he'd have to convince you first.
A/N: I could cry with finally finishing this, @leclerced, @mariahcarreyyy, and @piastrification since here go babes, hope you love it, since I kept bothering y'all about it. Sorry, love ya ♥️
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"Daddy, when do we go see Tante Victoria?" Max looks down and sees Casper playing with his toy cars on the floor. Max was getting ready to go into the office today, having just gotten out of the shower, and debated shaving. "Why would we go see Tante Victoria?" Max picks up the razor, still thinking it over. "Because Mama said she had a baby," Max hums, put the razor down, and moves into the closet.
He slid on his briefs and black dress pants, pulled out a belt, and weaved it through the holes. "That's right. She did have a baby, but she needs to heal first," Max explains, groaning, knees popping as he sits on the floor, joining Casper in playing cars. Are Mama and you going to have another baby?" Max chuckles, but honestly, that thought has been in his mind for a while.
Max wanted nothing more than to have a baby girl, but he needed to slowly convince you. You weren't in love when you two had Casper and Fabian—far from it. The marriage was arranged, and Max was so cold-hearted to you; the only reason the twins were born was out of the duty of needing an heir. Instead, he got two. Max slowly broke down when the boys were around five months old, and something in him changed forever.
It was maybe when someone tried to kill you three, he just snapped, and it made him aware of his feelings. Max didn't want a weakness, yet not showing it created one anyway.
Shaking his head, he leans over and kisses Casper on top of the head, who looks up with identical eyes, smiling. "Daddy, can we go wake Mama?" Max nods and stands, picking up Casper and carrying him into the bedroom. You lay there, sleeping peacefully, clutching onto Max's forgotten pillow. "Be gentle, mijn lieve engel." Casper nods and slowly crawls up, and Max smiles.
He never thought that five years after the twins were born, he would be carrying his little boy and happy at the thought of you waking up and smiling at him. "Mama, the sun is up; you should be up," Max smirks, seeing a small smile pull at your lips, fingers twitching. You probably woke when Caspian first came in and started to play on the bathroom floor while Max showered.
Casper loved being near Max, constantly surrounded by his father, and Max adored it. Fabian was always by your side; Max loved them both equally, but Casper reminded him of him when he was that age. He loved cars and wanted to be by his father. Max refuses to be like his father, but he still remembers the day he snapped at Casper, and the poor baby was terrified of him. Max still never fully forgave himself for that.
"Mama, wake up. Daddy and I need kisses." Max chuckles, moves to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Yeah, we need kisses," he whispers, giggling. You open your eyes and see your perfect boys, minus the one who loved sleep more than anything. "Well, let me pay the kiss tax then," Sitting up, you kiss Casper all over his face, turning your head. Max is quick and steals a quick kiss before kissing you again, this time slower.
"Ewwww," Casper gags, making you two giggle and pull him into a hug. "Go wake your brother," Max picks up Casper, who kicks and then runs down the hall, yelling Fabian's name. "Good morning," You breathe, and Max swoops down, stealing another kiss; you sigh, feeling his bare chest against your skin. "Go put on another shirt, we don't need another baby," You joke, but Max doesn't laugh. He wants another baby.
"Victoria had her baby." You smile, and Max nods. He wasn't very close to his sister, just enough to have a relationship, but with him being the head of the Dutch Mafia, Victoria didn't want her kids or husband in harm's way. He respected it. "Yes, a little girl. Is she cute?" Max asks, walking to the closet and grabbing a white button-down. "She's so adorable," You gush; you loved being an aunt but a mother even more.
Max smirked and walked back in, buttoning up his shirt. "Our baby girl would be cuter," He makes the comment offhanded, knowing you wouldn't think much of him saying that. He always liked to say your boys were cuter than his nephews. "Yeah," You whisper, looking at the picture of your niece with a smile. Max smiles and moves, pulling you close by your ankles, causing a squeal.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" Max rarely said it, so when he did, it always caught you off guard and made you nervous. "I know, I've always known." You whisper, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him gently. "Go say bye to the boys. Come home safe to me." Max nods and kisses you one more time, savoring the moment. Sighing, he pulls away and heads to the boy's rooms.
He stops just a little from their door, hearing their laughter and play fighting. "You'll never win!" Fabby yells, and Casper's loud giggles fill the room. Max could listen to that sound for the rest of his life if he could. He did this job so they could laugh and have that innocence for a little longer. Moving, he knocks on the door and pokes his head in; blinking fast, he takes in the scene before him.
"Casper, why are your pants on your head?" The twins giggle like it's some secret, making Max smile softly and enter the room. "We're bandits, Daddy," Fabian says in an obvious tone as if Max should've known what they were doing. "Bandits, hm, alright, my little bandits, get dressed and eat breakfast. I've got to go to work." Max yanks the pj pants off Casper's head, who giggles and grabs some shorts and t-shirts.
Crouching down, Max helps the twins get dressed, giving each a hug and kiss. "Be good for your mother, understand me, little bandits?" Both boys nod, "Boys! Breakfast!" The twins shove each other all the way, laughter on their trail. Max stands and walks past the kitchen; catching your eye, he winks and walks out the door.
"Mommy, sleepy." Looking up, you see the time and notice you missed their nap. Placing your book down, you let Fabby crawl into your arms as Casper was knocked out on the floor. "Can we watch cartoons?" Kissing the top of his head, you pull him closer and nod. "Of course, Scooby-doo?" Fabby's little head moves up and down quickly.
Hearing the theme, you settle in, but with the warmth and weight of your baby, you, too, fall asleep.
Max hated when you didn't answer his calls, but honestly, it was the perfect excuse to get away from work, leaving everything to the kids and letting them get trigger-happy. He was getting older and didn't find the thirst for blood anymore; it's crazy how you and the kids have changed him so much.
There was also a slight butterfly feeling in his stomach. He learned this was called anxiety from you. He was never one to be anxious, but after you had the boys, whenever you didn't answer, or you weren't wearing your tracker. Max gifted you a first-anniversary diamond necklace; it was small, perfect, and didn't draw attention. While the diamond was perfect, underneath it was a little tracker.
You knew it was a tracker and always wore it for your protection. Today, though, you and the boys were having a lazy day as the nice weather had taken a turn, and it was raining. Max tries hard not to think the worst, as the guards alert him that no one has entered or even left the penthouse, so he knows you and the boys are safe. Pulling up, he doesn't bother locking the car as he steps into the elevator and hits his floor.
Living at the top pays off, especially when you own the building. Stepping off, he nods to his guards, and they move back downstairs, where they had only stayed in the house when Max wasn't home. Smiling, he hears the Scooby-Doo cartoon and slowly moves into the living room and stops, taking in the scene before him.
You lay on the couch with Fabby and Casper cuddled into you. Max can't help but think back to when they were newborns when you and Max would be so tired and fall asleep on the couch with them curled between you two. It was Max's first memory of truly falling in love with you and the kids. Moving closer, he leans over the couch and kisses your cheek gently. "Love you," He whispers, removes his shoes to not wake you three, and heads to the kitchen.
Seeing the staff, Max smiles and waves them off. "Have the night off; I can cook." They all nod, say their thanks, and leave out the back door, and Max smiles, thinking about the cook. Rummaging through the fridge, he finds chicken, nuggets, and other foods. He steps up the grill and turns it on. Max moves around cooking dinner and smiles at the finishing products. Grabbing the plates, he places the plates down and puts the boy's sippy cups and you in a small glass of wine with water, and he just drinks water.
Walking in, he sees Casper is awake and makes grabby hands for his Dad. "Take a good nap with Mommy?" Casper lays his head on Max's shoulder and nods his head. "Hungry?" Casper nods again, Max taking him, placing him in his chair, and passing him his apple juice. "Thank you, Daddy." Max turns and feels his heart melt, seeing his sweet boy so soft and warm. "You're welcome, Casper; I will get your mother and brother. Be good." Casper nods and stares at the strawberries beside the meal, and Max chuckles.
Heading in, he leans against the door frame, watching as you trace the outline of Fabian's sleeping face. "Makes me want another," You whisper, sensing Max's eyes watching you. Your husband has to take a deep breath to stop his body from reacting; smiling sweetly, he walks over and pulls you two into his arms. "I wouldn't mind another," You smile hearing those words but shake your head slightly as Fabby whines and rubs his eyes.
"Buddy, I made dinner. Are you ready?" Fabby sits up, and you're lucky you have fast reflexes. You lean back quickly when Fabian runs into the dining room. "You cooked?" You weren't shocked. Max used to cook for you all the time initially, but he stopped a while ago. I felt like doing it while you were sleeping with the boys." Max helps you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing the tip of your nose.
"I made you a salad if you want it. But I grilled chicken, rice, and some veggies. The boys are eating cut-up grilled chicken, a little serving of mac and cheese, and their favorite fruit. I will also try to get them to try out veggies." You swear you fall in love with him all over again hearing that. "You're hot being a dad, you know that?" Max chuckles and leads you to the dining room.
"I'm a daddy," You laugh, smacking his stomach as you join your two boys for dinner.
"Victoria, she's adorable." You coo, washing your hands, eagerly waiting to hold your baby niece. Victoria and her family decided to pay a visit after she was feeling better. Victoria knew it'd be easier to visit and safer for her to come to you four. Fabian and Casper look into the car seat, staring as their cousins play with Max on the floor.
"Mommy, can we have one?" Fabian turns, staring at you with wide eyes, and you think for a moment. Max's attention suddenly zeroes in on you. Fabby, why don't you go play with your Dad and cousins," You deflect the question, and Max stares at you; looking sideways, you blush at the way your husband is staring at you. "Here you go," you sit down and happily take the baby into your arms, Max clears his throat and tells the boys to run off.
The four terrors run down the hall to the twins, and Max stands, fixes his pants, and sits down next to you. "What do you think?" You giggle at Max's dumb question but really consider it. Did you really want a third? Recently, you've been seeing the kid's old baby stuff around, making you miss having a baby in the house. "Can I?" Max whispers as your niece has fallen asleep.
Victoria smiled, relaxing as her husband was watching the boys, letting her have a breath. Max gently takes the baby and stands, rocking side to side, and damn if it didn't do something to you. Seeing your husband in his suit holding a baby girl did something to you in a way you couldn't understand. It made your body light up with need, making it impossible to sit still.
Max knew what he was doing to you; it was a dirty trick, really. He noticed how you reacted to some character on a show who was still in his suit and holding his child. Max ensured they arrived right when he got home, so he had no excuse to change. Seeing how your breathing has picked up, your pupils dilated to the point he couldn't see the color in your eyes.
"Tori, she's so lovely," Max whispers, gently lowering the baby into the little cot. He smiles when she grabs his finger and holds on tight. And strong, too," he giggles and can't help but imagine holding his little girl. A little girl with your hair and his eyes, he could picture it. "Daddy, can we have one?" Max looks down, sees Casper, and chuckles, kneeling slowly with the baby in his arms. "You want another sibling?" Casper nods and leans, kissing his cousin's head gently before running down the hall.
You can't help but think about liking another baby in the house.
Standing in the bathroom, you gently remove your makeup and watch Max climb out of the shower. "Max?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he grabs his toothbrush. He looks at you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue. "Um, I've been thinking about having another baby," you look down, embarrassed to even say this. "So have I, I'd like a little girl, but I'd be okay with another boy," Shrugging his shoulders, he starts to brush his teeth while you smile. "Yeah, I'd like a little girl too," Picturing yourself holding a baby with a pink hat.
"Do you have to go?" Holding your tea, you sit on the ottoman as Max packs a bag, fast and filled with anger. "Yes, I don't want to go, trust me. The last thing I want to do is leave you and the boys," Zipping it up, he almost breaks the zipper and leans on his dresser, the tension like a rubberband ready to snap.
"I'll tell them you went to visit Victoria," You never liked telling the boys what their father was really doing; they're only four years old. "That's smart, considering she lives far." Max stands up and faces you. It was early, far too early for you to even be up. But, the sound of his phone going off woke you, and here you sat with one lamp, wearing his shirt and drinking tea.
He couldn't love you more. "I love you," He can't help the words pass his lips as he stalks forward, pulling you up and kissing you deeply, but with such passion, you want to cry. It was the kiss he gave you, the same one that said goodbye in such a strange way that made your soul ache. Pulling away, Max smiles, seeing your eyes closed, taking in the kiss. "Come back to me," You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare into his. "I'll burn the world down to come home to you." Kissing you gently all over your face, arms strong around your body.
Kissing you one last time, he slips into the shadows, leaving you cold. You never thought Max would be your warmth.
"Mommy, I miss Daddy," Fabian whispers as you tuck him into bed. It was the fifth night Max was gone, and you were trying to explain why he had been gone so long. "I know, baby, I miss Daddy too." Lying on his bed, Casper is fast asleep and curled around his lion plushie Max got him when they were firstborn. Fabian curls more into your side as you read him another bedtime story. Soft breaths pull your attention, and you see Fabian is now passed out, clutching his lion stuffie close.
Sliding slowly off the bed, you're careful not to wake him. Bending down, you ghost over a kiss on both your boy's heads, slipping out of the room and closing the door. Resting your back on the door, you wish you had Max with you; the boys would love to sleep in your bed with your husband. They always slept with you two when he came back from his trips.
Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath, push off, and head to your bedroom. You hated how cold it felt still, how much you craved to smell just a hint of his cologne, his gummy smile when the boys did something that made him so happy, the way he moved through the house like he wasn't there, but you knew from the giggles that trailed him. You missed him in such a way that ached deep within. You fall asleep crying.
Max groans, rolling his neck as he steps into the penthouse. His guards nod, but he waves them away and slips his shoes off, not wanting to wake anyone. Max wants to slip into a hot shower, pull you into his arms, and fall asleep. He wants nothing more than to grab the boys, but he worries that seeing him slightly bruised and cut will scare them. So he just heads to your shared room and slips in; noticing how you're curled around his pillow, he feels a deep pang in his heart.
He missed you the most during the night, wanting nothing more than to reach over and feel your body melt into his. It's been cold at night, and he no longer refuses to deal with that. Sighing, he pulls at his shirt, groaning quietly as his ribs ache from the cuts and bruises on them. Mud and blood in his hair, face, and clothes, burying a dead body was not easy. Especially when the body used to be one of your men. Turning on the shower, his muscles relax as he thinks about how good it will feel to have the warmth on his cold-bitten skin.
Stripping off the rest of the clothes, Max stretches, steps into the shower, and groans at the heat seeping deep into his skin. Closing his eyes, Max leans his head back and enjoys the silence of his own home. Max craved silence as he grew up with such anger and hatred it was never quiet. Now, he loved the silence here, but it was a different type of silence. The silence meant everyone was happy, loved, and at peace. Max loved the noise; it was no longer filled with anger and hatred. It was one filled with childlike innocence and happiness; he craved it while he was away.
Max opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head and seeing the outline of your figure. "Join me?" It was a soft ask that required you to lift his shirt over your head and drop it. Max craved to feel your skin against him, like air, and he couldn't breathe. "You're home," You whisper, sighing when Max pulls you close to each other's naked body. "I'm home," He whispers, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. You loved having his body pressed against you, which made you feel safe, but it was also dizzy. Max was built and bigger than you, and it just made your brain go fuzzy around the edges.
Max knew what he was doing, pushing his body against you; you made it no secret that you loved he was bigger than you. "Max," You whisper, running your hands down his back as he presses himself against you, pressing kisses over your neck and shoulder. "Max," You whimper as his teeth scrape the weak spot over your neck that makes your legs feel weak. "Yes, Schat?" His voice husky and deep, pulling back his eyes dilated and dark. "I want another baby," You whisper, slowly spreading your legs, and Max groans.
Reaching down, you let your head thump back on the glass as his rough fingers ghost over your lips. "Yeah? Do you want another baby? Want me to fill you so deep?" His voice turns into a growl, fingers moving and pinching your clit before rubbing slow circles. You whimper, grabbing onto his shoulders, and nod your head fast. "Yes, fuck please, fuck me so deep, use me. Please, Max." You beg, the ache between your legs growing so that you could cry from him just burying himself deep inside you.
Max smirks, moving his hand up your back and into your hair, grabbing it and pulling your head back, and you hiss, the burn scratching something deep in you. "Spread your legs, my little siren." You giggle, having not heard that nickname in so long. You clumsily grab the bars in the shower and spread your legs, Max slowly getting to his knees and pressing kisses on your hip. "Sorry," You apologize, and Max arches an eyebrow. "Siren, I don't care." He chuckles at the hair. He could give a damn.
You gasp, closing your eyes when his tongue flattens and suddenly licks up and down with slow, long stripes. Body relaxing, you let your weight fall on his face, and he groans, feeling it. Large hands move up the back of your legs before slapping your ass. A surprised laugh escapes you, and Max smirks, blue eyes bright, as his lips wrap around your clit and suck before letting go and moving his tongue fast before slowing down. His hands move away from your ass and hold onto your hips and groan, feeling the way you're getting puffy.
He's missed this feeling, the way your pussy feels on his face. He could die like this happily. You whine at Max's pace, and he moves one of his hands, fingers moving down and slowly entering you before curling and moving in and out. You sigh, the feeling in you turning warm as you feel that slight tightness in the stomach grow more and more. Max, feeling your warm and cushy, pulls, pulls his fingers out and lays one last kiss. You open your eyes, vision hazy as you slip, and Max catches you holding you up.
"Turn around, siren." You nod and turn around, spreading your legs as you feel him stand right behind you. He groans, staring at your ass, slapping it, the sound bouncing off the shower walls. You groan, dropping your head at the heavy feeling of his hand slapping you. Max smirks as he jerks himself slowly. He moves and rubs himself between your lips, and your mouth waters, missing the weight of him in you. "Max, don't tease me." You beg, and he chuckles, leaning over your back.
His hand grabs your throat and arches you back. "Don't mouth off to me, siren, or else I'll choke you with my cock instead." Moaning at the idea, he chuckles and slowly slides in, your mouth dropping open as he stretches you open with a delicious feeling. Max bottoms out, groaning as he takes in the sight of your back arching and the reflection of the glass, your mouth open and eyes rolled back. "Ready?" You nod at his question as he pulls back and then forward.
The motion has you rocking forward, slamming your hands on the glass they drag down as his hips slam hard on your ass, fucking you hard and deep. "Fuck, feel so damn good." You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. Reaching around, Max takes both your wrists in his large hand and pulls your arms back. The sting of everything itched something deep in you. "Right there, fuck Max," Max smirks and pulls your arms and moves his hips faster, watching your tits bounce; leaning back, he enjoys the view of him pulling out and being swallowed by your pussy.
Max pulls you, and you whimper at the loss. Spinning you around, he picks you up with ease, and you whine as he presses your back onto the cold shower window and you whine. Max wraps his arms under your legs and places your ankles on his shoulders as he slides into you again. Your fingers pull at his short blonde strands, groaning; he fucks deeper into you from this angle.
"Want a baby? Want me to fuck a baby into you? Fuck, you'd look gorgeous all swollen with my baby. Goddamn," Max groans, his legs burning, but he doesn't care to be driven by his need to fill you and make sure you know who's gotten you pregnant. "Yes, please, Max," You cry, tears swimming in your eyes. "Yeah, going to fuck you, full baby, beg for it." You whimper as you try to find the words, but your mind is blank, just being so fucked out of it. Max groans and reaches down, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit. "Max," Your voice is airy and squeaky as you feel everything in your body becoming hot and tight.
"Going to come around, my cock; such a good girl for me, my good girl." You whine as he angles his hips and hits your spot. As you close your eyes and open your mouth, no noise emerges as you surround him. Max still fucks you through it and groans before pulling out and then sliding deep inside you and coming, his muscles so damn tight they could snap as he continued to fuck you, making sure it was staying inside.
You whine as he pulls you and slowly sits you down. "Max," Your throat raw, but he moves and slides two fingers in you, making sure nothing drips out. You whine, sensitive, and he kisses your face gently. "Sorry, want to make sure nothing goes to waste." He whispers and pulls his fingers out, and sucks them into his mouth. "Let's finish showering." Nodding your head, too tired to keep your eyes open, he smiles and holds you close as he cleans you both.
Picking you up bridal style, he dries you off and dresses you. Kissing you gently, he lays you in bed. But he doesn't lay down just yet, pulling on some boxers and shorts; he doesn't like not having the boys here. "I'm getting the boys," you whine as an answer, breathing evening out as you fall back asleep. Max smiles and moves through the house, going to the twins' room. Stepping in, he smiles, seeing them both with their lion stuffies. Moving carefully, not wanting to step on stray toys, he scoops both boys up and smiles at their weights in his arms.
Casper whines but cuddles closer, and Fabby just lies like dead weight. Walking back to the bedroom, he lays them down gently and tucks them in before climbing in. Max smiles, pulls you three close, and sighs. Max never wanted to give this up.
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st4rtar0t · 2 days
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Your love story and the movie it resembles
With your future partner
ever wondered how would your love story be with your future spouse? and what movie would it be similar to? I will be honest as someone who romanticizes love this question as kept me awake on many nights and has made me daydream a lot. SO as a result I have decided to make a pac on this topic. I hope you enjoy this reading and support my blog so that I can come up with more interesting pick a cards.
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These pictures belong to their rightful owners.
please like and reblog, I worked hard on this one
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Picture 1
Okay so as soon as i started this reading i got the message that most people who chose this picture may not have had an actual relationship in a sense that you might have felt as if something was always lacking or you may not have been treated right in a relationship. And i do see that you have a unexplainable fear that maybe the person you will fall in love with wont fall for you? or you may doubt their affection for you as you seem to have severe trust issues. You may be the kind of person who doubts love but is also dreaming about it. you may show as if you don't believe in love or that money matters more for you but you know deep down that is not true.
I also sense that this group is divided into two subgroups as this group seem to have two similar yet different love stories.
group one : you guys may be a Virgo, cancer or Sagittarius sun moon or rising. You guys can have medium to short curly hair. you may have a mole on your arm or right shoulder. You may have a small friend group consisting 3-4 people including you. one of your friends can be of different race or religion. Some of you may be in high school or 1st-2nd year of collage. Pumpkin and grapes may be significant for you.
your love story : There may be a sense of "saving the other" in your love story. you know how a person is suffering and the other person comes into their life and saves them that is the vibe that I am getting from your love story. Your future spouse may enter you life when you will be dire need of help or when you will be suffering or vice versa. You may be the damsel in distress, but i see that You wont ask your future spouse for help intentionally. You are someone who wont ask for help no matter how much they are suffering and your future spouse is someone who WANTS to help other no matter what but they have been used by a lot of people because of this. They are well aware of the fact that people only approach them because of their personal benefit and this makes them quite upset. But but but i also sense that they would want to help not financially but emotionally. They would want to help you with everything they can and this may be the one of the majors reasons why you will fall for them. They will help you find purpose in your life again. They will make you fall in love with life.
SO the movie that resembles your love story is EK VILLAIN. This is an Indian movie and I would suggest you to watch it. i wont spoil it for you if you have not watched it yet, but leave out the parts that don't resonate with you.
Group two : You guys can be a Taurus, Leo or Aries sun moon or rising. you may have a mole of your back or on one side of your neck. You guys may have long dark hair or dark brown hair that reaches past your armpits. You may have a fear of lizards or any kind of reptile. i sense that some of you may be studying business or you plan to start you own soon? You may have gold jewellery that you wear regularly.
Your love story : As I said earlier both these groups will have a similar yet different love story and the sense of "saving the other" is also present in this group but the only difference is that you will be the one who will save your future spouse/partner. They may be really popular or into music because i see that they have a good singing voice. You guys can also work in the same field or profession. I see that you guys will encourage them to give their best when they may feel low or when they may doubt themselves. I see that you will be their biggest supporter and this will make them fall deeper for you. They will admire how passionate you are about what you do. If you are in a creative field, they may use you as their muse. I also sense that they will be writing songs and poems for you because they seem to have a talent for writing. You guys will work together and earn a lot of money and fame.
So the movie that resembles your love story is AASHIQUI 2. This movies was released in 2013.
Noticed how the actress in both the movies is same? so you may have something in common with her.
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Picture 2
This is the group of misunderstood people lol. I see that people always try to find flaws in you or blame you for the things that have nothing to do with you. But i also sense that you someone who jumps into conclusions and overthinks their situation. Things may not be as they appear. You are someone who has lost a lot of people that were close to you and you don't want to go through the same pain again, so as a result you have put a wall between you and other. And now you don't care if people misunderstand you or spread rumours about you. I also sense that you are independent, you don't like asking anyone for help, You would rather do the things by yourself than ask for help.
Okay so for the people who chose this picture I see that and your future partner may not have a good first impression of each other or there may be some past experiences that you both share that are not so ideal. Or you guys may meet in an environment that is not to ideal for a first meeting? but whatever it may be I sense that you guys will remember your first meeting and laugh out loud.
Do you guys have a one sided love story or have you ever been in this situation? because I see that most of you have liked somebody who already had a girlfriend/boyfriend or somebody they were talking to OR I see that you had a huge crush on one of your friends and he/she were already into somebody so you thought is would be better to forget them.
I am getting friends to strangers to friends to lovers. Its really complex and complicated. But yes it seems as if somebody else was involved in your love story and no I am not talking about third party situation. its more of a "yes I like this person and I am talking to them" from their side and "you are my friend and I like you but wont tell you because you like somebody else so I wont tell you" OR "yes I like you but wont tell you because I don't want to ruin our friendship" from your side. But I sense that they will realise their feelings a lot later and when you wont be talking to them. I also sense that you may move away from them to forget them or you may even move to another country for job or education.
But we all know how the universe works in strange ways that you may have never considered. So you will end up meeting them again but in a different way as compared to before. And they will be the one to express their love for you and will do everything to win your heart.
So the movie that resembles your love story is KUCH KUCH HOTA HAI and a little bit of DDLJ. Both these movies have the same acter and actress. But the plot is not same its similar with slightly different storyline.
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Picture 3
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Some of you may also be interested in Picture 1
Are you sure you are interested in this love reading? because your energy is telling me otherwise. I am shocked to see you reading this because it seems as you are starting to hate the word love, and honestly I don't think you are at fault because if I was going through the same things that you have been through/are going through, I would hate it too. You have experienced love and I am not talking about romantic love, I am talking about platonic love. The kind of love you are supposed to receive from your family and friends. And now as a result of that, your perception of love is completely messed up.
But I have a good news for you, you have been blessed in money sector of your life and this abundance in money sector will be the love you yearn for. Now you are only focusing on your work and career, you are taking all the required steps to achieve your dreams and goals. And while you are focused on this sector of your life you wont notice how the universe will bless your love life with a partner that will move mountain for you. And the most beautiful thing is, YOU NEVER HAD TO ASK FOR IT. yes there were times when you cried yourself to sleep because you could not feel loved but unknowingly it all made you stronger.
Now lets talk about your love story with your future, So as I have already talked about how you will meet them when you will focusing on yourself and your dreams. And I also see that they will be the first one to fall in love and realise their feelings. And the most interesting thing is they will make all the efforts needed to prove their love for you. They wont approach you with a love offer first and wont shove their feelings into your face as in "Hey i love you, lets get married" no it wont be like that, in fact they will approach with the offer you helping you or being your friend first. They will admire how sweet and caring you are despite the things you have been through, You will fill them with inspiration and hope that there are still nice people in this world who make this world a better place with their existence. They will support you in you work and offer new ideas. Some of you are really intuitive so you will know who person may be or will be. Your future partner will admire the way you handle tough situations and problems thrown your way with ease. You are someone with hard exterior and really soft interior and this will intrigue your future partner as it is really hard to find genuine people with good intentions these days.
You love story gives me the trope of black cat and golden retriever energy with you being the black cat here and them being the golden retriever. Its honestly so cute!! and I am so happy for you guys. You guys deserve the world. okie I think i am getting distracted, so lets get back to the reading, Your love story will be something that will remind people of a fairy-tale.
So the movie/movies that resemble your love story is RAMAIYA VASTAVAIYA 2013 and GHAJINI 2008. Yes as i said this wont resonate 100% with your love story but there will be similarities.
Masterlist
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Boothill, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react gn s/o who always makes it a habit to tell him that they love him whenever they can like when they wake up, before going to sleep, before they leave, and when they return?
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Welt: loves, loves, loves the domesticity of it all.
It never fails in making him smile knowing just how much you love him, so much so it was enough to melt his heart as he smiles softly every time he heard you say it.
For it never gets old for welt and never will as its quite possibly his most favourite thing to hear.
He feels warm, loved and happy knowing you felt so strongly about him to make a habit of letting him know just how much.
‘I love you too my dear.’ Welt would say with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘So much.’ He adds fondly as he strokes his thumbs against your cheeks as he looks at you fondly.
‘Not as much as I love you.’ You cheeked as you pressed kisses into his large hands.
‘My dear don’t start something we both know you can’t finish.’ Welt replies with a chuckle.
He didn’t want nor need much in life to be happy. He’s a hopeless romantic and this was the easiest way to his soft, old heart.
Blade:
Not use to it at first.
He grows stiff and doesn’t know what to say in response because it wasn’t everyday someone openly admitted to loving him at any given moment.
So the more you do tell him you love him, the more Blade will grow accustomed to having that one special someone who’s seeing his scars and still looks at him as though he were the most beautiful man in existence.
Someone who loved him unconditionally and wasn’t afraid to show it, whether in public or in private settings.
Sooner or later Blade would become addicted to you saying you love him at any given moment and will sometimes not let go do your until you did tell him you love him.
‘You’ve known what I’ve done and yet you still feel brave enough to admit that you love me?’ He asks.
‘I do,’ you replied, ‘and I don’t regret ever admitting that I love you because if I ever did it’d be a lie. I love you beyond words but am forced to use words because there is no action that could truly convey how much I love you.’
‘Then I hope you don’t live to see the day where you regret saying those three words.’ Blade then said seriously as he keeps you close.
‘I won’t.’ You assured him and all he could do in response was chuckle humourlessly and say. ‘Don’t make promises to someone you’ll later regret giving ownership of your heart.’
Sunday:
It’s like music to his ears.
It’s all he wants to hear from you and now he has it, he felt as though he had everything he could possibly want.
He’s selfish with your love and wants it all directed towards him, and so to hear you admit your love for him at every possible opportunity makes him feel more entitled to you and your love.
He don’t want you uttering those words to anyone else other than him for the rest of your life together.
‘Say it again.’ He’d say.
‘I love you.’ You reply.
‘Again.’ He then says with a look in his eye.
‘I love you.’ You reply once more.
‘Good.’ Was all he said before he’d go on about his day.
He often wouldn’t let you leave until you’ve told him you loved him enough to satisfy his own greedy desires.
Dan Heng:
Blushy baby who loves gets all weak in the knees when you say you love him whenever you could.
He can’t look you in the eyes the first time you said it because it took him aback that badly.
Now however Dan Heng only smiles and lightly blushes as he scratched the tip of his nose.
You’ve still got a strong effect over him and he knows that you’ll be the death of him one day with your sweet words and affection. He swears upon this.
He could be doing something a simple as reading a book and you’ll come along, sit on his lap and rest your head against his chest only to casually say that you love him; causing him to go rigid as you could obviously hear his heart go at a million miles an hour.
He swore you got a thrill out of his reactions and seeing him caught unawares, he just knew you did but he couldn’t help but love you for brining light and unexpected joy into his life.
Boothill:
Can’t stop smiling whenever you tell him you love him.
‘Really sugar? You mean it?’ He’d ask.
‘Of course I mean it Boothill, why would I say something I don’t mean?’ You replied.
‘Never mind, just say it once more for your handsome boy?’ He’d try to the quickly change the subject with a smile.
He just doesn’t see what was there to love about him at all but he feared that if he brought this up to you then he was questioning your genuine feelings for him, which wasn’t what he wanted.
He knows you adore him to death but he doesn’t understand what appeal he has going for him when 90% of him was unfeeling metal, and the only part of him that could feel was his face.
It was something that he frequently felt invalidate about, but hearing you say you love him gives him a semblance of confidence that he had been missing after getting his new body.
He needed someone to look at him and think he was beautiful, handsome and above all a sweet soul and that’s what you did, but you also did so much more for him then anyone else had and he didn’t want to throw all of that away because he felt as though he wasn’t worth you.
Gallagher:
Enjoys the moment as much as he possibly can.
Acts like he didn’t hear you the first time when he did just because he wants to hear you say ‘I love you’ in that heavenly voice of yours.
‘Don’t think I caught that one, this old dog doesn’t hear as well as he use to.’ He says with a cheeky smile.
‘Of course he doesn’t.’ You scoffed before continuing. ‘I love you, you old dog.’
Gallagher smiles sleepily as he brings you into his chest for an extra five minute nap. ‘Love you too, you punk.’ He said affectionately.
He loves the moments where it’s just you and him, living in your own little fantasy where no one else besides you two exist, and drinking in the love and how happy you made each other without really even trying.
He loves how playful you can get, how serious you can get with it and for it to always end in you saying ‘I love you.’ A hundred percent of the time.
And Gallagher would love nothing more then to hear you say if a hundred times more in the future.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 days
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König who cheats on his wife with reader? (Whether reader knows or not is up to you.) His relationship with his wife has become rather stale now and the two can’t even sleep in the same room without an argument starting, or maybe he didn’t even want to marry her in the first place. If reader does know, he’s constantly telling her that he’s going to divorce his wife eventually.
You thought you knew better than to get involved with a military guy of his rank. It's only obvious that he had a wife - probably someone he married to get out of the barracks and to make his family shut up about settling down. Probably someone older, someone mature and respectful, and someone who could give you a few pieces of life advice before she'd known you were fucking her husband. Dick isn't even that good to betray the sisterhood, but you wanted money and you wanted attention - and getting with Konig provided you with both. You didn't know he was married, you didn't really care about him besides his money and his cock buried deep in your wet, tight pussy, but he really liked using your boobs as a shoulder to cry on. As something to bitch and moan about his failing marriage or his desire to shoot half of the KorTac personnel, or his therapist threatening to up his anxiety medications again. Now, you were honestly trying to break up with him once you realized he was married. You didn't want to be a homewrecker and you wanted something with a bit of a future instead of endless promises to leave his wife - so, you talked to Konig. Said that it was really fun and you enjoyed sex and having everything paid for, but you really needed a clean slate right now, and you wanted to quiet being the mistress from now on. He pulled out divorce papers that he prepared ever since you started the conversation with "I need to talk about our future". He pulled out the ring he had prepared since you really wanted to talk about the perspectives of your relationships. He pulled out a conversation with his wife where she is really fucking thankful for him finally signing on the divorce. You really, really started to understand how he ended up in a weird and loveless marriage in the first place. You also recognized the way his wife had barely even shown up in his life before. You can kinda see your future in her - maybe just a tad bit more pampered at first. Maybe, if you manage to last a few years, he would find himself a new obsession with longer legs and younger posture. You stare at the obsessive glint in Konig's eyes as he promises that his wife "was already taken care of" and that you can have his mom's wedding ring now. It feels awfully rusty. Maybe, you'd last more than a few years. You just hoped that "second time - the charm" won't actually work in this situation.
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miirohs · 1 day
Text
world burning [c.l.c]
pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!
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“Charlie?”
You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.
“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”
“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 
The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”
“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.
“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”
He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.
“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”
A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.
“Char, what are you planning on doing?”
He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.
“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”
You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.
“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.
“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”
You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
All you could do was shake your head.
Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.
There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.
“Where is she?”
“Sir-”
“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”
Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.
“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.
The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.
Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.
There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.
Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.
“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 
You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.
You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.
As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.
“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.
“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”
“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.
“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”
“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.
“Charles, no-”
He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.
“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”
The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.
“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.
“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.
Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.
“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 
You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.
“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.
There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.
“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.
“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.
“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”
“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.
“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.
However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”
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writersdrug · 2 days
Text
Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2
<- Previous
Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep
A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!
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leieatsmen · 3 days
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📽️ YOU ARE THE DIRECTOR
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you’re literally the director, producer, muse, screenwriter and cast of your dream life, your muse is who you want to be, the screenwriter does all the work behind the scenes and the script and basically everything that goes into making the movie the movie.
what you put into your screenplay (whether it’s aff tapes, living in the end, embodying your dream life or doing sats) everything you put into your screenplay dictates the outcome of your movie (your dream life)
you literally need to be the best method actor in the world and feel your dream life so it can harden into your dream reality. when someone is preparing for a role reading the script doesn’t get them far they need to transform into that character so they can perform to the best of their abilities
make your own rules, how are other people going to tell you what to do like hello?? the law is about you and literally nobody else this is your movie who cares if you wanna do whatever you want if you think doing methods are beneficial go for it at the end of the day it’s your life and you have the power in your hands. we all want an award winning life full of success, love and happiness and it is coming!! congratulations in advance
you find manifesting difficult because you make it difficult for yourself, you complicate it for yourself by over-consuming and fixating on methods that’s why you feel stagnant!! affirm and persistence goes a long way i promise it seems like people throw around this term all the time but it’s literally true that’s what makes loa easy
”your desired state already exists but is excluded from view. an assumption brings it into sight by changing your perspective.” - neville goddard
— ༊ xtra hehe i hope this analogy makes sense at the end of the day this is your life and your creation you are in control and it is finished you have your dream life you are the director of your own life and destiny ⁺ this is literally sats but i loveeee affirming and making my own short films in my head knowing that when i wake up i will live in that moment
— ༊ i hope you find this useful!! i’ve been crazy consistent lately even im scaring myself (@etherealkissed88 definitely has some of my favorite loa content!! you should definitely follow her) that’s pretty much all i have to say have a good day/afternoon or night and good luck on your journey because it’s already done
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sinsirellaxx · 1 day
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I've been thinking about this for several days and I'd really love to know your opinion:
What do you think is the ideal type of each of the Slytherin boys?
Slytherin boys – Their ideal types
Warning: Toxic boys alert! (Not that bad though)
A/N: Ooh, this one was hard! Honestly, I had never really thought about that – or wanted to think about it … but here it goes:
PS: I didn't want to write about ideal body types, so I left that bit out – hope that is alright!
Mattheo …
… doe eyes – does not matter which color (although brownie points for brown eyes) – he’d spend hours just staring into your eyes. If you know how to use your eyes to your advantage, you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.
… pouty lips with a defined cupid’s bow. He’d always have to kiss you whenever he glimpsed at your lips – which was quite often. Be prepared to be kissed all. The. Time. Even during classes – which got you both detention for inappropriate displays of affection.
… he loves long hair, especially curly or wavy hair. Whenever he’s bored, he’ll twirl your curls around his finger.
… he needs a loving, affectionate, soft partner. He’s quite needy and possessive, so he’ll need someone who’ll constantly reassure him without judging him for being overly possessive.
… however, he’d bee head over heels if you also have some sass to you: Sweet, loving but make it spicy.
… loves sneakers and his hoodies on you. Especially if his hoodies still smell like him. The thought of his smell marking you makes him want to go feral.
… would love someone who is inexperienced ... because let’s be honest: the thought of you having been with other people would drive him mad and rob him of his sleep.
Theodore …
… loves long hair as well. He’d try to braid your hair for you – he’d lowkey be possessive over your hair and get angry whenever someone else touches it.
… thinks he wants a more sultry-seductive-siren-like partner, but I think he’d simp for a golden-retriever-type-of partner.
… would secretly wish for you to cook and bake for him – especially Italian dishes and pastries.
… he loved his late mom but she was taken too early from him, which is why he needs someone nurturing, mature and someone who tells him when he’s in the wrong – he won’t like his partner telling him what to do though, especially if he isn’t completely in love with them.
… has a corruption-kink, that he still has to recognize/accept, which is why he’d be crazy about an innocent partner – even if it’s a facade. Bat your lashes at him, and bite your lips and he’s gone
… loves – absolutely adores – milkmaid dresses on his partner
Lorenzo …
… loves a good struggle – so, someone with an attitude – a diva!
… although he wants sass, he’d be mad if his partner refused to listen to him – but as mentioned above: he loves a good struggle, so challenge him.
… adores long hair, especially if worn down.
… wants a partner who always dresses up prettily – just for him!
… play hard to get and he’ll be running after you like a starved dog – but don’t let him grovel for too long, otherwise he’ll be fed up.
… he wants someone who’ll take care of him and praise him, someone who radiates warmth, someone who lets him be the little spoon once in a while.
… wouldn’t want his partner to be taller than him.
… wants someone who only shows their true self to him – to people that they are close and intimate with.
… otherwise, he’d love for his partner to be more introverted.
Draco …
… wants someone he can pamper.
… needs someone who will pamper him emotionally.
… loves lighter hair.
… adores the dark academia style on his partner.
… needs someone who’ll listen to him – someone who is honest with him if need be.
… he’d need someone more goofy – a good-natured partner (that he can easily manipulate if he has to)
Blaise …
… loves long hair.
… is drawn to out-going and playful personalities – someone he can have fun with.
… if his partner does not shy back from telling people to fuck off he’d be on his hands and knees for them.
… would absolutely freckles and/or siren-eyes – he’d be simping 24/7.
… thick thighs for days for this boy.
… someone who is shorter than him.
Tom …
… wants someone smart, witty and strong-willed – but someone who will submit to him (although I believe the dark side of him would enjoy if they put up a fight once in a while, he’d enjoy the putting his partner in their place)
… would hate a clingy partner – but they would have to be ready to give him affection whenever he wants.
… does not care about hair length, but he’d like darker hair.
… needs (not wants) a caring partner, someone who’ll stubbornly tell him to finally eat or get some sleep.
A/N: What do you think their ideal types would be?
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frostyhelltime · 2 days
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I Said Don't Touch My Hair
Basically someone fucks with curly haired GN!Reader's hair and promptly finds out.
Characters Listed: Alastor, Vox, Lucifer.
Warnings: Violence, but it has Vox and Alastor being pissed off, so what did we expect?
Author's Note: I have really curly hair, 3A or 3B typically. And it frustrates me to no end when people just walk up to me and start touching my hair without even asking. Especially if I spent a lot of time making my hair look extra nice that day. So I got to thinking I wonder what the guys would do if someone approached their lover and did something like that?
If anyone wants me to do this for additional characters let me know. I just thought I would start with these three.
Also hope you like the graphics! I made them myself!
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Alastor
It's a distinct possibility this person doesn't even get to lay a hand on you, actually. Ever cognizant and aware, especially when it comes to possible threats to you, he likely has this person on his radar before you do. He is the type of person that's typically five steps ahead of everyone else, and he prides himself on it.
It's during a pleasant stroll on the way to Cannibal Town to have tea and coffee with Rosie that some fool accosts you.
Rosie has been pestering him for the better part of a month to introduce his little paramour and he has finally given in because you were just as excited to meet one of his friends.
In fact you had been so excited you made sure to put extra care into your curls today, wanting to impress. He knew from you only partially jokingly berating Angel when he played with your hair that you didn't like it mussed up when you actually put serious effort into their appearance.
But he can't find it in himself to be annoyed or anything of the sort at the people he passes by when he sees your bright smile as you walk, arm in arm, together. He's also smiling as well, of course, but looking at you the smile turns more soft and genuine for a split second, a chuckle on the tip of his tongue about some joke you made when he sees some stranger's hand reaching for your curls.
Although his smile remains ever present, the scrunch of his nose and furrowing of his brow belay his true feelings.
"Ah ah ah. Don't you know it's improper to touch someone without their permission?" His voice rings out with a thicker layer of static, freezing the demon who stupidly hadn't even realized exactly whose arm you were on. He's annoyed at the way his voice takes on an extra edge of static as you turn around to face the poor soul who probably wasn't much longer for his world. He doesn't like that it could be apparent he's so annoyed. Oh well.
"How repulsive." He mocks, delighting in the clear terror they were feeling as they back up and away from you, as if that will save them.
"Don't worry though, my good fellow. It's a mistake I'll be sure you don't make twice. Someone has to teach you some manners, after all." His voice drops low, letting his form shift taller, antlers elongating and becoming more angular, neck craning forward and stretching to reach the man who was already attempting to run away, maliciously excited grin growing closer and closer.
You release his arm, knowing he'll be back once he's done. You also know he would be even more upset if your clothes got ruined by the blood of this poor uneducated sinner who he plans to teach some manners, and goodness knows the last thing this demon needs is another reason for Alastor to be mad at them.
With a twist and a rip of his claws, once, and twice, the sinner finds themselves violently robbed of their hands and begins blubbering for forgiveness. Alastor blinks at the pathetic creature and brings the hands closer to his maw. He swallows the two offending hands without even a second thought, tilting his head to look at the sinner quivering in delightful fear as if pondering what to do with him next. He takes another step forward and is about to continue when he hears your voice ring out.
"Alastor dear, we're going to be late. I'm sure he's learned his lesson. We don't want to keep Rosie waiting, do we?"
"Ah you're right. We can't be late, it's so impolite. I'm afraid I won't get to continue your lesson." He sighs and then tuts at the sinner frozen in fear, who is still unsure if he's actually going to get to live or not.
Alastor's eyes shift from yours to his prey and his claws give one final rip through flesh as if to punctuate his 'lesson', pulling open the demon's chest with practiced ease before he retreats.
"I hope you found my lesson on etiquette quite educational." Alastor chuckles to the man good naturedly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.
And with that he's rapidly returning to his normal form, his arm laced through yours again and he's continuing the conversation from before, mood brightening when you thank him and kiss his cheek for protecting you.
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Vox
Vox doesn't even see the person coming. No one other than you tends to exist in his peripheral when you're together.
He had been planning awhile, wanting to really wine and dine you for your anniversary. Remind you how good it is to be with him and all the wonderful perks that come with dating the CEO of VoxTek! Of course you knew, but he liked to spoil you and remind you how good he is to you all at the same time and an anniversary was the perfect excuse. Which is also why you're extra dolled up, curls perfectly coiffed and a backless outfit with a cutout in the shape of, a V, of course to entice him for the time you'll spend together...after dinner.
You're listening half mindlessly and half focused as he talks. There's something just nice and relaxing about his ecstatic chatter and it never failed to make you feel at ease.
He's currently talking about his latest idea for a new show that he thinks will be a hit as you two walk, his arm resting on the small of your back on your bare skin. A subtle but possessive claim to you.
A claim that one poor idiot either doesn't heed or doesn't see.
Either way their hand is reaching for you and snags on your curls almost immediately, causing you to jerk back and yelp in pain, frustration and annoyance evident on your face. Though it compares little to the immediate upset it causes Vox.
You think he didn't mean to snag it, only wanting to feel it, though it doesn't much matter now what his intent was.
The guy doesn't even look remorseful since he doesn't seem to even think it's a big deal until he realizes Vox seems upset as well and then he's apologizing, but apparently it doesn't seem sincere enough for Vox.
The tall man quickly steps forward, barely needing to take any steps at all before he snatches the man's hand with sheer brute force, his other hand beginning to gently untangle your hair and pulling it out of this idiot's grasp. You found it such a funny contrast between the grips of his two hands that if you weren't so pissed you would have laughed. As soon as the man is untangled from you, Vox has him picked up and slammed into a wall, electricity crackling from him as he does, errant sparks burning the man's skin without Vox even trying.
"Listen here you piece of shit, do you have any idea who you just fucked with?" His eyes narrow, electric sparks growing bigger and hotter as he speaks. The man just shakes his head no, trying to apologize to try and save his own skin.
"Now, you're going to apologize to my sweeatheart and you're going to mean it." He growls, dropping the man down in front of you as carelessly as he would a sack of trash. Even belly down the man tries to scramble to get up and run but Vox's foot is pressing down and keeping him pinned before he can succeed.
"I'm running out of patience..." He warns, narrowing his eyes, and then the man is changing gears and giving his best attempt at as remorseful of an apology as he can muster.
You are pissed but take pity on the man, not letting his torment get more drawn out. You're certain Vox won't just accept an apology so you might as well let him get on with it, and not extend the suffering.
You kindly accept his apology as you continue to fix your hair.
As soon as the acceptance leaves your mouth though, the man has such a large amount of electricity shot through him so violently that he's almost glowing, a smoldering corpse left in the dust of the smoke that had arisen from the electric burns, which Vox steps over to check on you, making sure you're okay.
You are of course fine, and assure him as much and it seems to placate him a bit that you aren't actually hurt.
He hurls one last insult of "Prick" before he leaves, his hand gently on the bare skin of your back once again, although he pulls you closer than before so you walk almost hip to hip. He would certainly pay more attention to look out for any other idiots that thought they could get handsy with you tonight.
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Lucifer
Another one who sees it before it's coming. He's always aware of everyone and everything when he's out with you. Dating the king of hell certainly had some perks! But it also came with a big fat target on your back. Although you never minded. You knew he was always looking out for you and wouldn't let anything happen.
It's part of why you never noticed anything amiss, you always felt so safe around him that you did sometimes let your guard down. It was easy when Lucifer was so sweet and goofy, even when he wasn't trying.
Needless to say, his hyper vigilance that most never noticed beneath the silly facade comes in handy now, his eyes catching someone approaching you from afar as he walks towards you but still too far away to hear anything they might be saying to you.
You were waiting for him, patiently as ever, to meet up for a date. You looked so beautiful, standing there and smiling down at your watch since you knew he would be there any minute now. It made him giddy just seeing you there.
But despite how far away he is, as soon as he sees them reaching for you, he's beside you in a flash, crossing the distance and using his cane to block their hand and push it away from you before it ever makes contact.
"Hey hey hey, what are you doing? That's so rude." He laughs, smiling at the man, who seems genuinely shocked to see the king of hell in front of him suddenly. He is smiling but there is an air of annoyance in his smile, as if he's trying to keep it casual and struggling. He's not unnecessarily violent, and usually just a casual signal that you were with him was enough to have people keep their distance. He's pretty confident the sinner will just turn and run.
"Lucifer!" Your happy voice chirps at him, only barely registering someone had been reaching for you, and clearly not even registering it as a threat now that he was here.
"Sorry I'm late. I...got distracted." He says sheepishly, shifting his attention from the sinner to you, especially since the sinner jumped back as if the cane had been made of pure fire, running off as quick as he can. But not before mumbling out a shakey "S-Sorry!" Seems Lucifer was right on that bet. He wouldn't have to worry about them bothering the two of you anymore, he's sure.
But you just smile and wrap an arm around his, clearly not the least bit annoyed by the interruption.
"...What does this new rubber ducky do?" You only halfway joke, having a pretty good idea what could have distracted him, and just as quickly his face changes from apologetic to excited. You smile seeing how his face changes; you were right on the money it seems.
"Shoots spikes like little pointy bullets!" He grins like a child excited about their latest toy, and he's guiding you now, away from this person who almost caused trouble if he hadn't been there in time.
"Ooo, after dinner can you show me? That sounds so cute!" You smile, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"Although I know you don't need any spikes to save me, my king." You whisper to him teasingly, his face flushing just a little bit red at your playful use of his title as you headed to your date.
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ayyy-pee · 2 days
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𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝟘.𝟝 - 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕜
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Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader
Episode Summary: After a drunken night of binge watching your (least?) favorite show, you find yourself making a grave mistake.
STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS
Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)
Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)
A/N: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE! I hope you guys enjoy this ride (that you're in charge of in later chapters!!!) I'll put up Episode 1 tomorrow after proofreading!!! <3
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“God, this show is so stupid,” you mutter, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you get settled onto the couch.
“Please…It’s so bad, but I tune in to every season.”
You glance over when your friend reaches into your lap and dips her fingers into your bowl of popcorn and grabs a few kernels.
That was the perfect way to describe what was happening now. You’re currently huddled up on the couch, having spent the day binging the most recent season of The Bachelor until you’re all caught up. The new episode airs tonight and you’re eager to see who Joey ends up picking. Will it be Rachel? She’s gorgeous, funny, and her family seems to really get along with this season’s Bachelor. They have great chemistry. Or maybe it will be Daisy? Though you couldn’t see that working out. The girl is a total bore. Or it could be…what’s her name again? The one who looks a little bit like she could be his sister. Ah, whatever.
You’re not sure when you really began to even give a shit about this mess of a show. It’s corny. No one falls in love within a few weeks of knowing each other. And why does one man or woman need to date twenty people to find someone to marry? Are they that unlikeable in the real world? Not to mention, it’s totally unrealistic. Do these relationships even work out once the cameras cut off? Unlikely. You find the entire premise of the show downright stupid.
And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away as this season’s Bachelor takes each girl out on an extravagant date that…you can’t lie, you would love to be on.
Dancing in Malta? Sunbathing on a yacht off the coast of Spain? Getting to see Niagara Falls up close? Sign you up. You don’t think you would stand a chance being the object of everyone’s affection, but you could definitely milk being a contestant for free trips and good food.
“Why can’t he see that Rachel is the best pick here? Ugh, annoying. You know he’s going to give what’s-her-name the last rose.” Your friend downs her wine in one swig and you don’t bother to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. She’s all red faced. You’re not sure if it’s from how passionate she is about the show or from the two empty bottles of merlot she’s managed to down practically on her own, but the glowing hue it gives her highlights the thick scar across her face. A product of her line of work, and said line of work being the reason she’s guzzling wine in the first place.
“Maybe take it easy on the drinks, Utahime.”
She hiccups next to you, slouching in her seat. “I haven’t even had that much to drink!”
“You’ve had most of the wine just on your own!”
“Oh my god, you have one or nine glasses of wine and suddenly you’re wasted,” she mutters sarcastically. “I’m fine.”
You roll your eyes, because you know there’s no going back and forth with her stubborn ass when she starts drinking. 
The living room dims for about three seconds before it lights back up, the show now having gone on commercial break. The rose ceremony is next and despite shit-talking the show only ten minutes ago, you’re eager for the commercials to wrap up so you can see who goes home. It better not be Rachel. You use this brief intermission to go and get some water for yourself but mostly Utahime so she can sober up.
This has been your routine for the last few weeks. Every Monday night, Utahime comes over, peels you out of your bed and forces you on the couch to chug alcohol and watch this ridiculous show. While you find the entire premise of the show nonsensical, you’re grateful for the time it’s given you with Utahime.
You’re fairly new to the Kyoto area and Utahime was the first person you’d met on your first day at your new – how can you put this? – unique job. You see, you and Utahime both work in the field of Jujutsu sorcery. But there’s about where your similarities in the field stop.
Utahime is an active Sorcerer. She’s an instructor raising up the next generation of Sorcerers, building them up so that they can one day join the frontlines to protect the unaware non-Sorcerers of Japan. She’s strong– a grade 1 Sorcerer. Quite impressive. She could easily knock a curse’s head off if she wanted to.
But you? Well, while Utahime is at the top of the ranks of Jujutsu society, you are what some would refer to as a bottomfeeder – an unranked, unimportant, lowly Window. You’re someone who has just enough cursed energy to see a curse. But can you do anything about them? Not unless you want to end up in the nearest trauma center. So if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and whip your phone out to report it so that the real Sorcerers can handle it.
You’ve been in this field for several years now, but working outside of the major cities of Japan. Transferring to Kyoto was your idea of wanting something new and different. Utahime had quickly taken you under her wing. You were certain it was because she took pity on you. A weak, barely gifted Window. But as time went on, you came to realize that that was just Utahime. She was kind and funny, and had a good heart. Well, except when it came to –
“Hey!” Utahime calls from her spot on the couch. You can hear a slur in her words as she speaks and you know she’s opened yet another bottle of wine from who knows where. “Come here! Look at this!” You peer at the television from the doorway of your kitchen and see Utahime has it paused on a very ugly ad. It’s bright white with a background full of red rose petals across the screen. Your eyes roam over the words.
“THE SEARCH IS ON FOR THE ELIGIBLE WOMEN WHO ARE READY TO FIND TRUE LOVE! DO YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAVE THE CHARM, STYLE, AND PERSONALITY TO BE OUR NEXT STAR? IF SO, APPLY OR NOMINATE SOMEONE NOW!”
“Will you hurry up? Come look!” Utahime demands, messily pouring more wine into her glass. But it looks like a normal advertisement to you, so you’re not entirely sure what has Utahime’s interest so piqued.
She beckons you again, yelling “Come here!” So you quickly grab a couple bottles of water from your fridge and head back. Utahime is pointing insistently at the screen. “Look. Look really hard.”
You follow the path where her finger points, shuffling closer to the t.v. to get a clearer look. It takes a moment for you to see it, like really see it, but it’s definitely there. Underneath the last line, hidden from the eyes of those unable to see the horrors that you and those like Utahime can, is another message. You fall to your knees, eyes glued to the tiny additional message floating beneath, glowing with cursed energy that reads, “JUJUTSU SorcererS PREFERRED”. 
Confusion slowly takes over your features, the corners of your lips turning down with a frown, a brow arched and skepticism in your eyes. Were you missing something? Was this some sick joke? Were Jujutsu Sorcerers huge fans of The Bachelor or something? You spin around to face your friend who has a look of mischief twinkling in her eyes. You know it all too well, mouth falling open and a finger pointing when you scream “NO” at the exact moment Utahime yells “YOU SHOULD APPLY!”
“Absolutely not!” You must be looking at Utahime like she’s grown two more heads because she looks just as confused as you.
“Why not?! You’d be great on there!”
Maybe she hasn’t grown two more heads. Maybe her brain was swapped while you were in the kitchen because why the hell was she suggesting this?
“Well, for starters, I’m not really looking to date.”
Utahime rolls her eyes, as if that’s just not a good enough excuse. You should just ignore her, snatch the remote from her hand and hit play so you can get back to the show and see who this guy chooses to potentially get engaged to. But for some reason (could be the single drop of wine your friend allowed you to have while she downed the rest), you feel the need to keep listing off reasons to not sign up. “Secondly, I– why would I even want to go on this show?”
Utahime sips her wine, eyes low as she falls into her drunkenness, but you can still see the sparkle of mischief in those brown hues…and it scares you. So you keep talking, chatting away and listing excuse after excuse to your friend, eventually finding yourself back on the couch trying to drive your final point home.
“Besides, they want Sorcerers.” This seems to get Utahime’s attention again, makes her set her glass down as she looks at you.
“I’m sure it’s fine. You are a Sorcerer.”
“I’m a Window.”
“Semantics. You can see curses, can’t you?” Utahime argues.
“...yes.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But I can’t do anything about them.”
It’s not something you should be ashamed of, but there’s just the tiniest bit of you that is ashamed. Because being able to see these monsters and not having the power to do anything about them…well, it feels like a curse in and of itself.
To this, she sighs. “Sorcerers, Windows. They’re just terms used by the higher-ups to keep their stupid, fucked up heirarchy intact.”
You know it’s the wine that’s loosened her tongue. In public, Utahime would not dare to speak so freely. The Jujutsu politics in Kyoto were a lot stricter than they were in Tokyo. Not that that said much anyway. The politics were shit regardless. But Utahime worked closely with those connected to the higher-ups, so outside of this little bubble in your apartment, she kept pretty hush hush about her true feelings.
You watch Utahime closely as she fiddles with her wine glass. She really is beautiful. You think she’d be incredible on a show like this. Which gives you the idea.
“What don’t you apply?”
Utahime leans back, a cackle so loud and abrupt leaving her tiny body.
“No way. I would never date any of these Sorcerers.”
“And you want me to?!” You ask incredulously. You don’t know whether to be offended or not.
Your friend fixes you with a deadpan stare. “You don’t know them the way I do. The only good one out of all of them is Nanami Kento…and Shoko.” She mutters the last name quietly, like it’s a secret that she thinks so highly of her. And maybe it is a secret…the way she feels about the doctor in Tokyo who you couldn’t help but notice has Utahime’s cheeks glowing red whenever she’s mentioned.
“Besides,” Utahime continues. “If I signed up for this and got paired with Gojo –” she shudders at the mere thought of being near the man. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from projectile vomiting just at the prospect of having to kiss him.”
It’s your turn to laugh obnoxiously now, because – “Why the hell would the strongest Sorcerer in a thousand years sign up for this shit? You don’t think he has anything better to do? Like, you know…keep all of Japan safe?”
“Satoru Gojo does whatever Satoru Gojo wants.”
You can’t argue with that. Utahime would know best. She did grow up with him after all. She knew him well. You’ve never met the man, being just a Window, you doubt you ever will. Out of all the Sorcerers, you’ve only ever met Utahime and Principal Gakuganji. You’ve never even met any of the students. You all run in different circles, but that doesn't mean you don’t keep up with the going-ons of the Jujutsu world. Everyone knows Satoru Gojo.
“You should really sign up, though,” Utahime suggests once more. “You might meet a good person. If anything, you’ll get a good vacation out of it.” With that, she stands. It’s clear that the wine is hitting her again, because she wobbles clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
If it’s anything like every other week before this, you’ll be peeling Utahime out of your bathtub because she will have inevitably fallen asleep.
Your eyes fall back on the hidden message on the television, reading it over and over before you finally just hit play and let the finale finish.
Joey chooses whatever that girl’s name is. You’re only halfway paying attention because against your better judgment, you’re actually thinking about applying to this. But you think the show is stupid, right? Why would you waste your time? But what if Utahime is right? What if you do meet someone? It’s not that you’re against dating. You’re just not actively in the market for romance because you’ve found that dating non-Sorcerers is more stress than it’s worth.
The constant obligation you feel to regulate their emotions so you can avoid the creation of a cursed spirit that you’ll have to call in and do paperwork for? Exhausting. Not to mention, if you ever grew to truly love this person, you’d be overwhelmed with guilt if a curse manifested and harmed them in any way and you couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as you made a phone call.
You’d never really given any thought to it, but perhaps dating a Sorcerer is what you needed. You could end up meeting an amazing man!
But also, semantics or not, you were not technically a Sorcerer. You were simply a Window. Why the hell would an actual Sorcerer want to be with you? Better yet, what were the chances of this show even choosing you as their next Bachelorette?
- - - - - -
Apparently, the chances were extremely high, because one phone call, four video interviews, a nearly five hour drive from Kyoto to Tokyo, and days of promotional video and photo shoots later, you find yourself standing outside of the Bachelor Mansion, donning the most expensive gown that money could buy.
This is not what you expected. Not at all. There is so much going on. You want to run and hide from every single camera you see being propped up. You want to curl into yourself when the lights come on and the director calls, “Action!” And you see some man you’re just meeting for the first time approaching as he speaks directly to the camera.
“...and she’ll be making history tonight as The Bachelorette’s first Jujutsu Sorcerer,” you hear him tell the camera as he stops just a few feet short of you. Tall, blonde and handsome. He looks like an American football player. “I’m Jesse Palmer, ladies and gentleman. Now, let’s meet our Bachelorette!”
He turns to you, wearing a bright smile. The cameras follow, moving closer to catch a close-up of your face, so you smile as naturally as you can and try not to flinch when Jesse moves forward to embrace you in a swift hug.
Jesse calls your name as though you’ve been friends for a long time. “So nice to finally see you. You look great.”
The camera pans down your body and back up to your face. “Likewise, Jesse.”
“How’re you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m nervous! Definitely nervous, but feeling good! I’m so excited for this,” you lie. You’re dreading this process. But it’s too late to back out now. So you just hold your smile, conversing politely as Jesse makes small talk and gets to know you before the first contestant pulls up.
And you hope that if Utahime is watching, she sees the message behind your eyes screaming that you’re absolutely going to kill her.
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purple-babygirl · 3 days
Text
in the far corner of the forest III
Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader
Word Count: 6,540
Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.
Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.
A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜
~
“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.
He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.
Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.
“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.
She was ignoring him.
Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.
It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.
Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.
She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.
Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.
“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.
When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.
“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.
“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.
“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.
Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.
He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.
So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.
It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.
“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.
“Yes.”
“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.
“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.
She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.
No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.
“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.
Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.
She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”
She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.
She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.
~
She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.
“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.
Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.
She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.
It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.
But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.
When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.
“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.
He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.
She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.
Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.
It was just like… a date.
Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.
She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.
She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.
“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.
She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.
She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.
Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.
She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.
It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.
“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.
“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.
He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.
In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.
She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”
Gods, the way she said his name was something else.
“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.
As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.
Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?
She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.
She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.
Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.
Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.
Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?
No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.
She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.
So she did.
And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.
She knew just the thing to do actually.
She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.
She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.
She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.
She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.
This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.
“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”
~
“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.
“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.
It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.
It felt… way better.
“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”
She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”
“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”
A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.
“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.
“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.
“And who’s Sam?”
“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.
At least Sam was a male.
So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.
“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.
“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.
“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.
The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”
She looked up at him with a silent glare.
Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings
“Are you… jealous?”
Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.
Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!
“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.
“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.
“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.
Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.
She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.
She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.
Who did he think he was?
It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.
He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.
The clan he never introduced her to.
How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?
Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.
She was jealous. She was jealous over him.
He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.
He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.
She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.
When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.
Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.
He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.
A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.
“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.
“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.
Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.
It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.
Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!
Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.
~
The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.
She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.
She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.
Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.
“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.
“She’s not my—”
“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.
Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.
She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.
Oh, that was it.
She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.
But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.
Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?
She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.
Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!
How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!
She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.
She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.
This marriage ends today.
~
Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.
After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?
Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.
How could he make her see that?
As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.
“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.
Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.
He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.
Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.
Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.
Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.
He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.
~
“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”
Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.
“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.
“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.
“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.
“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.
Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.
She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.
“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.
Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.
“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.
“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.
Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.
Not even a real marriage.
Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.
“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.
Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.
“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.
Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.
She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.
What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.
Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.
He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.
Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?
“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.
“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.
Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.
Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.
How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?
“Hey.”
She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.
“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.
“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”
She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.
Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.
“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.
Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.
“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”
“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.
He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”
She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.
He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.
This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.
“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.
“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.
“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.
So she had read the contracts.
“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.
“What do you mean?!”
“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.
“You what?!” She became even angrier.
He did this? She was here now because of him?!
“I willingly picked you, little human.”
“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.
Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!
“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”
Won a glimpse
Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you
No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?
“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”
She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.
She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.
No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.
“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”
She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.
“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”
“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.
“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”
Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.
But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.
When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.
Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.
She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.
When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.
“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.
She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.
She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.
She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.
Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.
“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.
“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.
She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.
How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?
“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.
Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”
She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.
“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.
She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”
“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.
“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.
“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.
It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.
“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.
“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.
“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.
She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?
She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.
In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.
“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.
“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.
“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”
Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.
He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.
“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.
She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.
“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”
“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.
They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?
“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.
Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.
“Don’t be upset, little human.”
She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.
Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.
Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.
“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”
“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.
“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.
He smiled wider because she could.
Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.
For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.
Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.
“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.
But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.
Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.
“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.
As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.
She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.
She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”
Yeah, they were going to be okay.
~
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shanastoryteller · 1 day
Note
Happy birthday!!!! More FMA!
He’s fucking tired.
In Xerxes, he’s Van Edris. In Xerxes, he’s the son of a former slave, having narrowly escaped being born into his father’s fate by virtue of him being awarded freedom by the time of his birth. In Xerxes, he’s an uncommon commodity, an alchemist with a skill that hasn’t been seen since his father fucked off to who knows where.
In Amestris, he’s Edward Elric. In Amestris, he’s the son of Trisha Elric who was born free and died free because while there are lots of different forms of freedom, in Amestris there’s one that everyone shares. In Amestris, he’s unknown and unremarkable and no one gives a fuck about what he does.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says flatly.
This is what he gets for visiting his father’s country. It’s just fucking unfortunate that the really good alchemical texts are here.
He should have let Al (Van Altun, as they know him, even though the two of them having been using their Amestrian names almost their whole lives, regardless of what country they were in) do it. They’re not nearly as weird about him.
Pakor is alright, as far as kings go. He’s freed a lot of people, is poking at the laws of ownership that has governed his country for centuries to see if he can do anything about them without getting beheaded for it. He’s also known Ed since he was a barely able to walk, back when his father still made court appearances and brought the family along with him. Former slave against most talented alchemist in the country, and people tended to politely ignore the former. Hell, Ed’s been counting on the same thing since he was twelve.
Of course, now it’s coming back to bite him. People say he’s a genius, but if he was really smart he would have stayed far, far away from court. Like in Amestris, perhaps.
“You’re fluent in both languages,” Pakor says, coaxing.
“So are you,” he says accusingly. “We’re speaking Amestrian right now!”
Pakor sighs and switches to Xerxian. “You also speak Xingese and Drachman. You’re a difficult man to keep secrets from.”
“I’m also Amestrian!” he shouts. “And free, might I add! You can’t sell me off to slavery just to get some intel!”
“It’s not like we’ll brand you,” he says, affronted, and Ed is reminded that alright for a king is still pretty shitty. “We just need someone to do a little – double checking. To ensure the situation in Amestris is as it’s advertised.”
“You want to gift me to the Fuhrer to spy on him and you’re, what, just hoping he doesn’t notice that I understand everything and know everything and am, oh yeah, one of his citizens? I’ve been to Central before! With my luck, I’ll get recognized the first day here and then run out of Amestris! And, again, Amestris doesn’t have slaves! The leader of the country really can’t have one.”
Pakor sighs. “You’re very dramatic, Edris. It won’t be so bad. Here, I’ll say you’re my personal slave and that you’re on loan. It’ll be for cultural exchange purposes. He speaks Xingese, so you can communicate in that language without letting on you know Amestrian.”
Ed pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a stupid fucking idea.”
“If you do this,” Pakor says, “I’ll give you the key to the royal library.”
Ed slowly lowers his hand, eyes narrowing. “I’ve been asking you to let me in there for years.”
“I figured I’d need to bargain it away eventually,” he says. “I was hoping you’d marry one of my daughters for it.” Having even light court obligations is bad enough, he’s in no way stupid enough to marry in. “You’re very difficult, you know. I’m your king. I shouldn’t have to bargain with you.”
“Tough shit,” Ed says, because Pakor may have known him for nearly twenty years, but that knowing goes both ways. Besides, he can’t piss him off because then he and Al will stop reparing all their shit bridges and infrastructure. “Fine. But if I lose my Amestrian citizenship over this, I’m going to be pissed.”
“Noted,” Pakor says brightly.
Uhg.
It doesn’t help that everything he’s heard about Fuhrer Mustang makes the man sound insufferable.
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bitchy-craft · 2 days
Text
PICK A CARD: What kind of person they are
Hello and welcome to this new post of mine! In here I will give you a reading on what kind of person your s/o is. I hope you guys enjoy and find this interesting.
Masterpost > Paid Readings
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~pick a card~
Pile 1:
Your future spouse is a very detail oriented person. Especially when it comes to their interest they will have a habit of pointing out every little thing most people wouldn’t notice. It works the same when it comes to easter eggs in movies or making spelling or grammar mistakes in your day to day life. Some of you might find this annoying, but the way your future spouse does it makes it rather amusing.
Your future spouse is also a very calm person, you will hardly see them be annoyed, irritated or angry. They think very rationally rather than emotionally, and whenever you come up with wild conclusions too quickly they will be there for you to ground you and your emotions with their words.
Pile 2:
Your future spouse is someone who gets straight to the point when it comes to basically everything in their life. If something is bothering them they will voice their opinion (not in a rude way), if they want something to be done they will voice this and take action if others don’t do it. Your future spouse is well aware of the things they look for in life as well as in a partner; so the moment they choose you, it wasn’t a choice taken lightly. Your future spouse will have thought of many possibilities and futures ahead of them, and decided that it looked best with you in it.
They are not only clear when it comes to what they want and need, they are also confident in themselves, their looks, and their personality. Your future spouse stands strong in their shoes, and is almost impossible to take down. Thankfully, that confidence is infectious, and the more you two spend time together the more you start to feel it too.
Pile 3:
Your future spouse is very set on decisions when they make them; changing their mind is difficult and it will bring some frustrations with it in the relationship. But they are also set on having a relationship with you, and will know perfectly well what to give you in order to keep you, what it is you need in a relationship and what it is you wish to possess.
Their mind is one that goes really fast, and because they have trouble changing their minds on many things it will sometimes occur that they get stuck in a certain mental space that is difficult to get rid of; their thoughts will turn and turn and go in circles. The best way to help them in this situation is by making them write everything on paper; make them see instead of think to get a clear mind on the things happening around you two.
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bunny584 · 19 hours
Note
Thinking about our boys this fine evening,,
What would their reactions be if you bought them a present?
TURNING TABLES
A/N: My love, I’ve been sitting on this ask for MONTHS. Just chomping at the bit to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy this fluffy fluffy drabble with a lil sprinkle of angst 💕
C/W: Nada, the boys just being adorable. Established relationship. I hope this gives y’all as many delulus as it did me.
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GETO
“You’re never going to guess what I got you for your birthday, dimples!” 
Your pretty finger digs into the crater in his left cheek that you’re so fond of. 
Suguru swallows a grin. 
Two things. 
One, you’re the only human in this lifetime and the next, who could call him that and wake up the next morning. 
Two, he knows exactly what you got him. 
Because you’re oblivious in a way that made him fall for you in the first place. 
To you, birthdays are sacred. And must be treated like National holidays. All week you’ve been padding around the apartment, glee in your footsteps. 
You’ve been staring at him. A whole galaxy in your eyes. Precious little giggles escape you at every turn. Because there’s a secret only you are privy to. 
Or so you think. 
Suguru has heard you badgering someone over the phone. 
“No no, it can’t be purple. His favorite color isn’t purple. It’s indigo. The shade between royal blue and violet. Blue. Indigo. Violet. ROY-G-BIV. Rainbows. Indigo.”
You almost flung your laptop off the balcony   two mornings ago. 
Instead of just closing the browser displaying shipment confirmation for the silver analogue watch with the indigo face and chrome bezel. You tossed the entire laptop away and Suguru had to lunge to catch it from shattering.
You are clumsy. 
And terrible at surprises. 
And he adores you. 
More than he knew possible. 
Suguru shrugs out of his grey peacoat. Dinner was phenomenal, yes. But now he needs you on his tongue for dessert. 
He watches you step out of your heels, somewhat upset you didn’t let him take them off for you. 
“On the couch and close your eyes!!” You squeal before disappearing into your bedroom. 
“Yes ma’am.” Low chuckle spilling from his lips. 
You’ll be the one following orders in a second. 
Suguru does as he is instructed. Back against the plush couch. Legs spread a little further than usual. 
You’ve had him stiff as a board the whole night. Doting over him. Petting his thigh. Pretty lips full of quick kisses and “Happy Birthday baby” and “I love you.” He almost took you at the dinner table. 
But he’s a gentleman. 
At least, before you get behind closed doors. 
“Are you ready for me, birthday boy?” You call out. And your voice alone strips him of manners. 
“I’m ready to be inside you, gorgeous.” Suguru palms the length of his shaft. 
“Suguru!!! Behave.”
In a matter of seconds, your full body weight lands on his lap. You straddle him and his hands fly to your rounded hips. 
You are wearing significantly less clothes than you were 2 minutes ago. 
Suguru eyes flare open. The zipper on his suit pants nearly breaks. 
“Ohhh, my pretty girl.” 
His eyes violate every inch of your negligée. Lacy. Delicate. Riding the gentle dips and curves of your beautiful frame. Saliva pools in his mouth. You have no idea what he’s going—
“Eyes closed!” Your tiny palm can barely span his face. 
“Alright, alright.” Suguru hikes you further onto his hips. His rod thundering against his fabric. 
“Before you start, baby. Reach into my jacket pocket for me?” 
“What?” Suguru always loved how pretty you sound when you’re shocked. 
“Do it.” 
Your fingers scramble to follow his order. Always so compliant. His name, tangled with an airy little gasp escapes next. 
“Suguru Geto, what is this?!” 
Eyes still closed, Suguru flashes a mischievous grin. You’re so pretty when you’re stern with him. You punish (reward) him with a quick slap on his chest. 
Suguru pulls his lids open. He finds you holding 2 nearly identical boxes. A bigger one in the right, a demure one in the left. 
You’re flushed up to your ears and Suguru hasn’t ever seen a woman so beautiful. 
“What is this?” You probe again, eyes glossed over. 
Suguru gently works the smaller box out of your hand. 
“A present,” he plants a chaste kiss on your pouty little lips. 
“But it’s your birthday. And I wanted to surprise you. I saw this—“
“—silver analog watch with an indigo face and chrome bezel, I know baby.” Suguru’s lips find your flushed, warm cheeks. 
“Suguru…”
“So I got one for you too.” He opens the smaller box, just as you reveal his surprise. 
Yours is daintier. Scaled down to your small wrist. Both of your initials inscribed at the base of your watch. 
“Baby.”
Mist coats your eyes the way it does. The way your love coats him. In all places. All at once. Gentle. Refreshing.
A blessing. 
“You are the love of my life. In this lifetime and the next. Thank you for the birthday gift, sweet girl.”
                                 ——
GOJO
“Satoru, Jesus Chri—are you kidding me right now?” 
“What’s the matter, baby?” 
Your boyfriend was born with a silver spoon and a silver tongue. 
An expert at rolling, whipping and twisting words until they’re saltwater taffy. Sweet on the mouth. Sticky in reality. And at its worst, kryptonite to the person consuming them. 
As if he didn’t just steal the pink satin bow, from your head. And your hair falls in a slow cascade around your face. 
Satoru slides into the seat across the dinner table. Candlelight kissing his high cheekbones. Tonight makes it three years from the day he asked you to be his. 
Not that it matters, really. Because time crumbles to stardust around him. 
Every minute, every second with Satoru feels like the first. Your heart can’t tell the difference, and you’ve stopped trying to. 
A mischievous grin reaches his 10-carat diamond eyes. Razor sharp, and a reminder to everyone within a 1 mile radius that he’s not of this world. 
“You’re gorgeous.” Satoru toys with your hair tie. Deftly knotting it into a bow on his wrist — an egregious accessory next to his cuff links. 
“Save the pillow talk, Satoru!”
 “What?” He retorts, slinging his elbow over the back of his chair. Dangling his newest prized possession in your face. 
“Is it so bad that your boyfriend wants to feel close to you? You won’t let me sit next to you — I’m desperate.” 
You feign a gasp and lean over. Hushed because what you’re about to say is sacrilegious. 
“The Strongest Sorcerer in the modern era won’t survive sitting across from his girlfriend instead of next to her? Don’t let the bad guys hear that.” 
Bellowing laughter erupts. His base low and clear as an alpine lake. Your soprano a feather light harmony. 
Unbridled joy that is so unique to your relationship echoes throughout the dining room. Waiters and waitresses send fond smiles your way because the restaurant is dedicated to your celebration.
Satoru’s lips find the back of your hand. Embers from the candle catch the golden flecks of sunset in his Mediterranean Sea. Eyes with still waters, tonight.
He’s beautiful, your boy.
“Happy anniversary, princess.” 
“Happy anniversary, my love. I have something for you.”
 You glide your hand out of his grasp before he locks it in. Eyebrows already crawling to the center of his face. 
“I told you not to get—“
“Hush!” 
Always one to give, never one to receive, Satoru narrows his gaze. You know that look — he’s planning on tripling his retaliation gift. 
Satoru reluctantly takes the box out of your hands, while you watch on bated breath. 
His full lips hang open. Cotton candy dusting the tip of his nose, blooming to his ears. He’s never like this. Taken aback. Full of surprise.
Your full name tumbles out of his mouth. Almost foreign to your ears, but indulgent when coated in his rich, loving tone. 
Satoru pulls the leather bracelet out of the box. An infinity symbol woven in the center with your initials and his initials flanking either side. 
Before you get a chance to breathe again you’re standing in his arms. In the middle of the empty room. Face nearly eclipsed by his large hands.
“Baby,” Is all that escapes him before he crashes his lips onto yours. 
His tongue immediately begs for entry. Faint taste of mint chocolate ghosting your taste buds. 
It’s comforting. It’s dizzying. It’s Satoru.  
“L-let me explain the gift.” Panting out of his embrace. A light sheen already coating his eyes. He’s statuesque except for his thumbs that strum the apples of your cheeks. 
“Of course.”
“You’ll probably live forever, fighting demons and such—“
“Curses, baby. The demons are just personal.” He laughs. 
Satoru flashes another smile, but this one is blue. Melancholy in a way that tugs on your heart strings. You draw him in for a quick kiss. 
A mere bandaid on a lifetime of third degree burns.
“I know I’m not invincible like you and your friends. And you spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with the fact that I’m a Normie.” 
Satoru’s nose crinkles. “It’s not a crime to not see curses.” 
“I rather you not see them. I don’t want you subjected to that.” Grit in his voice and his eyes glaze over. You know that Satoru is watching gruesome memories on his mind’s big screen. 
“I know, handsome.”Your hand cups his face and he subconsciously unravels in it.  All but purring into your warmth. 
“But that doesn’t change the fact that the world needs you for far greater things than it needs me.” 
“Do not talk like—“
Your finger presses against his lips. Your boyfriend has a real habit of cutting you off and at this rate you two will never get to enjoy your dinner. 
A small chuckle escapes him. He’s sorry. And you continue.
“I got you that bracelet…because..” Suddenly shy under his undivided attention, you drop your gaze. Thumbing his new gift instead. 
You pause. He pauses. Everything around you halts.
Then it all tumbles out at once. 
“You’re it for me, Satoru. The One. Forever and always. In every life we’re reborn in, even if I can’t stick around as long as you can in this one.” 
Cheeks incinerated by your confession, you muster the courage to lock eyes with him once more. Nearly flat lined at what you see.
A crystal tear sliding down one side of his face. All of his sharp lines and angles, like melted butter. Mouth ajar. Moused. Imperfect. Like his heart is splayed open on his chest for the world to see. 
“Satoru…?”
Hearing his name jumpstarts his engine. Satoru lifts you into his arms and strides toward the exit in milliseconds. 
You toss your head back. Full of breathy giggles because this is the man you know and love. The modus operandi that made you fall so deeply for him in the first place. 
“Dinner! Baby our dinner!” You squeal a little too late, given that he’s 4 more long strides away from the door. 
“It’s taken care of. I’ll have them send it to the house.” Eyes straight ahead. A man on a special grade mission.
The two of you come to an abrupt stop just shy of the front door. Satoru rakes his glassy eyes over your flushed face.
“I would die for you. You know that, right?” His voice cracks. Actively staving off the flood threatening the rim of his eyes. 
“You and me…you know that I…I lo—, I’ve…you’re the only…fuck.” 
Satoru draws in a frustrated sigh. Tossing his head to the side. Hopeful that looking at anything else in the room would make this easier.
 “You know why I cant.. I can’t say it baby I—“
“I know, Satoru. I know.” 
‘Because love is the most twisted curse of all.’
And he believes that the moment it falls off his tongue, you’ll be taken from him. 
Your lover’s presence is grandiose. Demanding. Loud. Noticed from miles away. Earth shifted on its axis when he was born. 
A loan from Heaven’s stash. He’s a gift to mankind and your personal Moon.
But his love is the opposite.
Found only in quiet moments. Moments when his shield, breast plate and sword clamor against the hardwood floor after saving lives time and time again. 
When you wake up to him staring at you, caressing your cheeks. A gentle wake up call because he needs a kiss. A temporary reprieve from his nightmares. The demons that haunt him day in and day out.
When he comes home early from every single mission. Just to get back to where his heart is. 
His love is woven into your satin pillow cases, that hold his triumphs with students, his frustration from work, his regrets. 
His love is painted on walls of your apartment. The walls that could barely contain his grief. Wails loud enough to shift earth’s tectonic plates. That heard him scream in your arms. For months. All because he lost his first love at his own hands. 
His love glows under the moonlight. When he is buried deep inside you. Rambling about giving you a son first, then a daughter. Because he has to teach his boy to be strong. Strong enough to keep up with him. Strong enough to watch the world burn for his sister if it has to. 
Satoru Gojo is not soft, but he loves you softly. 
Another tear glides down his porcelain skin. Somewhat ashamed that he can’t swipe it way with his hands full of you, he flashes a lopsided smile. It makes his otherwise ethereal coalescence of features so boyish. Tangible. 
Human. 
Satoru presses a salty kiss against your lips. And it’s the sweetest he’s ever tasted. Pulling away briefly, to affirm you in a way that only he can.
“Infinity, baby?”
“Infinity, baby.”
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rreids · 2 days
Note
Hey love I have an ask bc I’ve been feeling super depressed lately and I haven’t wanted to get out of bed lol can you do a one shot when spencer leaves for the week on a case and comes home to the house a mess and the reader laying in bed crying and he makes her shower and eat and cuddles her
oh my love <3 i hope you are feeling a little better. please make yourself a nice warm drink and try to spend some time outside or doing something outside of bed, even if it's just five minutes <3 it's worth it, i promise — someone who also bed rots often
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LITTLE BY LITTLE • S. REID X READER
hurt/comfort; reader in a depressive episode; mentions of emotional eating and food; perfect bf spencer; nonsexual nudity and intimacy; kisses; pet names; fluff; ~1k
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Spencer being gone was normal, a common occurrence. You didn’t normally struggle when he was gone, but with a mix of bad days at work and him being gone, you could barely bring yourself to eat.
You liked to keep the house clean while he was gone so he’d have one less stressful thing to come back to. This time, it was a mess, clothes and food packaging left around. You’d raided the sweets stash, and made a mental note to replace his chocolate bars before he realized.
“Honey?” Spencer’s voice calls, and you blink away the sting of tears. You weren’t hydrated enough for more to roll down your cheeks, but you didn’t want to worry him. With a swipe of your (his) sweater sleeve, you work on rubbing away tear stains as he comes into the bedroom, tilting his head at the wrappers and mess on the nightstand. “You okay?”
You shake your head, not trusting your voice. “You’re home early,”
“It ended well,” he tells you, gathering the trash left sitting. He doesn’t even comment that his nice chocolate bars were clearly eaten. “How long have you been like this?”
“Few days, maybe?”
“Why didn’t you call?” He sighs. He sounds exasperated, but you know he’s not upset at you as he rubs a soothing hand over your cheek and lets you lean into him.
“I didn’t wanna worry you,” you mumble, voice muffled into his palm. You press a kiss to it, smiling softly when his fingers twitch at the ticklish sensation. “‘S okay.”
Spencer shakes his head adamantly, you know he disagrees. “Find some nice pajamas for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”
He comes back after throwing out the trash. “I put some water on. Tea or hot cocoa?”
“Tea,” you mumble, rubbing your throat.
“With honey. Don’t even try to tell me not to add it.” Spencer grabs the pajamas you scrounged up. “I’ll fluff these in the dryer, too. C’mon, gorgeous,”
He helps you stand and lets you curl into his side as he walks you into the bathroom and helps you undress, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he tugs the sweater off. You shiver at how cold the air is, and he reaches behind you to turn the water on and let it start to warm.
Spencer carefully brushes your hair out of your face with his fingers, frowning when you pull away a little. He doesn’t comment on it, just studying your face with his intent stare.
“Stop looking at me,” you mumble.
“Just trying to see if you’re okay, sweetheart,” he whispers, ghosting a kiss over your cheek. “You’ll tell me about it after. Do you want me to help you wash up?”
You pause. “Dunno.”
Spencer chuckles. “Ok, well, I’m gonna go start fluffing your clothes and put water in the kettle. Let me know when I get back?”
You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as his movement creates a draft.
When he peeks back in, you’re staring at the water.
“You have to get in, honey,” he reminds you, voice sweet. It makes you feel like crying.
“I know. I think I’m okay.”
Spencer pauses as his mind processes what you’re responding to. “Okay. Take as long as you need. I’ll be waiting in the living room,”
The water is nice — heated exactly where you like it to be —, and you take much longer than normal letting it run over corded muscles and wash away your sadness as you get clean. It’s nice, and you know you’ll feel better when you get out. Part of you hates that, because it just makes another thing Spencer is right about (and he’s always right about things, so you pride yourself on the times you beat him). 
When you finally step out and towel dry, you find your warm clothes on the counter. He must’ve brought them in while you were distracted.
Finally dressed in clean clothes, you drop the dirty ones in the hamper and pad out to the living room.
Spencer is in comfortable clothes — a Washington DC hoodie, sweatpants, fluffy and mismatched socks — and his hair is no longer styled. That’s the first thing you notice. Then you notice the tea, the bowl of perfectly cut-up fruit, and the spread of cheese, crackers, and lunch meat.
“Figured you wouldn’t want a full meal,” he tells you, patting his thigh. You walk over and settle on him gently, squeaking in surprise when he pulls you into him more tightly and presses kisses on your face until you squirm from the contact, giggling. “C’mon, open,”
He taps the strawberry piece to your lips and you roll your eyes as you eat it.
“I love you, you know that?”
“‘Course I do, Spence,” you tell him, voice soft and scratchy.
“Then tell me. Please? Me not knowing you’re upset hurts more than being unable to be here for you. I can at least call you and leave voicemails or talk you through stuff.”
You sigh, shoulders dropping. “But you’re busy and dealing with hard stuff already.”
“And I will always choose to deal,” he says the word like it’s poisonous, “with what you are struggling with first. I signed up to be your number one supporter. Always,”
He hands you your tea and waits for you to finish drinking before he takes it and sets it back down. He holds your hands, rubbing his thumb over the back.
“Okay? Tell me.”
“Okay.”
Spencer smiles and relaxes, kissing you more gently. “Now eat up, sweetheart. It’s all for you.”
You whine at that, and he cuts you off with a stern look.
“My chocolate bars are not proper sustenance for an adult of your—”
“Spencer.” You mumble, picking up a grape. “Shut up. I’ll eat.”
He smiles, pleased, and leans his head on your shoulder. It should be weird, him watching you eat, but it fills you with warmth and happiness as he traces aimless shapes on your thigh and makes sure you’re okay.
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title is bc: little by little you will be okay. i know you will. we all will be.
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chowadoe · 2 days
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so more on that role reversal au...
Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik
some more expanded thoughts below ^_^
SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT
Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.
he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)
the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.
Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..
If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?
what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.
Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.
au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil
when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)
SONIC - ACCOMPLICE
Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)
Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.
He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)
and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!
his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...
has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.
Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^
Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 
the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm
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