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joelsgreys · 2 days

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a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze.

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

#fic: a safe haven #fic: ash #tw dv #tw domestic violence #tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction

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yuu-extended-yuuniverse · 2 days

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Pokémon AU! (Yuu & Riddle)

Trainer looking at Grim: What kind of Pokémon is THAT???

Grim, offended: I'm not a Pokémon! I'm a TRAINER. Just you wait! I'll be the greatest Elite Four Champion ever! Myahahahaha!

Yuu: Does that make me the Pokémon in this relationship?

~*~

Riddle Rosehearts was the youngest trainer to ever become a gym leader in Twisted Wonderland, and remains one of the most ruthless.

Gym leader Riddle specializes in primarily fire type Pokémon! Which is why so many new challengers who come prepared with a full team of Water-types are so caught off guard when Riddle's partner Pokémon, Roserade, comes out! Who finishes them off with her signature move "Off With Your Head!"

Losers are enlisted to paint the hedge maze roses of the Heartslabyul gym to appear like Poké balls.

More headcanons and enlarged photos below:

Riddle

Heartslabyul is the first gym most new trainers encounter

It is situated in the same city as the trainer school, where Riddle enjoys tutoring on his days off

His partner Pokémon, Roserade, was gifted to him by a childhood friend (Trey) back when it was still a weak little Budew

Mrs. Rosehearts belongs to the ranks of Nurse Joys and originally wanted Riddle to study medicine. To everyone's shock, obedient young Rosehearts went on to become a formidable trainer and eventually declared, much to his mother's chagrin, his intention to become a gym leader and help new trainers

Riddle is still the youngest gym leader, at 18 years old

Despite his harsh exterior, many trainers still attribute much of their success to Leader Rosehearts' insistence on practicing the basics.

If you are strong and fortunate enough to ever challenge Riddle again, his fully trained 6 team includes Roserade, Ninetails, Flareon, Rapidash, Alolan Rapidash, and Shaymin.

When pressed, Riddle refuses to answer where he met a member of the elusive Shaymin Pokémon.

Riddle can often be found racing or playing polo at the Equestrian club, riding either of his Rapidashs.

Despite all the good he does, Riddle can often be too much of a stickler to the rules and unable to see outside-the-box

He first meets Yuu when he is kicking Ace and Deuce, two new trainers, out of his gym for trying to cheat their way through his hedge maze puzzle and disparaging the idea of going to trainer school, refusing to let them challenge him and effectively ending their dreams of challenging the elite four.

It is only after Yuu challenges him for Ace and Deuce's right to re-enter the gym, and uses both lessons Riddle preaches and uses unusual outside-the-box thinking to defeat him, that Riddle reconsiders his black and white view of the world.

He gives Ace and Deuce a second chance, on the expectation that they first go to trainer school for a week, and asks if Yuu would consider sharing their unique battling style with the students at the school (despite these techniques not being taught in any books)

In the end, all three, Ace, Deuce, and Yuu, earn their Heartslabyul badges, and Riddle wishes them luck at the next gym.

Yuu

No one quite knows where this trainer came from.

All anyone knows is that they showed up out of nowhere with a talking feline Pokémon no Pokédex recognizes, named Grim.

For whatever reason, Team STYX keeps trying to capture Grim for some nefarious purpose.

But despite Yuu's unimposing figure and having just recently started their journey, they are actually a very formidable trainer and have managed to battle off every one of Team STYX's attempts.

Yuu meets Ace and Deuce while the two of them are being kicked out of Heartslabyul gym and a fast friendship is formed.

Ace declares that they are all rivals now, but they still travel together from city to city.

To Ace and Deuce's horror, Yuu seems to enjoy sleeping over in abandoned and haunted houses on their journey

Ghost Pokémon seem to particularly like Yuu

Yuu sometimes runs into an interesting person during their travels, a man they have nicknamed Tsunotaro

Tsunotaro seemed to always show up whenever Team STYX is getting up to no good, and helps Yuu battle them off and clear out various Team STYX bases of operation throughout Twisted Wonderland.

Ace and Deuce have never met this mysterious Tsunotaro, but if they did they would be shocked to discover that he is actually Malleus Draconia, Twisted Wonderland's infamous and terrifying Elite Four Champion

But to Yuu he's just Tsunotaro, a weird but nice guy who seems to think fighting off crime syndicates together counts as a date

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanart #twst yuu #twst yuusona #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #pokemon #pokemon au #twisted wonderland x pokemon #twst x pokemon #malleus x yuu #mallyuu

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chilschuck · 2 days

Note

beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333

— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.

꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k

✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33

— LAIOS:

✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.

✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.

✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.

✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!

✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.

✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.

“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.

In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”

Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.

✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.

✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…

✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.

✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…

✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.

“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.

You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”

The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.

— FALIN:

✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!

✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.

✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.

✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.

✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.

“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.

“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

— MICKBELL:

✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.

✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.

✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.

✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.

✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.

“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.

“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.

“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#HOPING THIS IS OK ANON HHHHH #i’m hitting a creative roadblock with school #which is causing me to stress a bit #but i wanted to get this out for you guys!!! <333 #first time writing for falin so i hope it’s ok…#sorry if anyone’s ooc!! WAHHH #laios x reader #laios touden x reader #falin x reader #falin touden x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #mickbell tomas x reader #mickbell x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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haeryna · 2 days

Text

the sadness we shared is my clarity ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ↪ fushiguro megumi x reader

summary: it's spring when fushiguro megumi finds you. it's summer when he realizes he loves you. but as the days shorten, and time runs out, megumi realizes you're slipping away.

tw: angst, as per usual. mentions of gore, and sexual tension but nothing explicit or nsfw. you and megumi are both idiots. half of this was churned out in a day so please give the author grace. not proofread. arrangedmarriage!au and friends to enemies to lovers. megumi is Mean. mutual pining, so much that i want to throw up. mmm yummy clan politics

notes: banner by the lovely @/cafekitsune! title taken from txt's deja vu. had this fic rotting in my head and in my drive. dedicated to riko, for being one of the first mooties i ever had. love you @riaki !!

also i'm sorry everyone for vanishing off the face of the earth pls accept this fic as an apology :'))

part one/??

It’s summer, and the air in Kawasaki is miserably hot and oppressive. Tacky skin clings to thick cloth, and Megumi grimaces at the feeling. Gojo had finally decided to send all the first years together on a mission to deal with a group of Grade 3 spirits, deeming his pupils “worthy to finally make their debut!” To celebrate, Nobara had corralled everyone to a small cafe, located near the train station. “Cmon, this place has air conditioning, and Ijichi won’t be here for at least another hour,” she insists, fingers wrapped around the curve of your wrist. Begrudgingly, Megumi follows along, heavy with the knowledge that where you go, he'll follow.

He can’t help but sneak glances over, as you and Nobara fawn over the icy desserts and drinks the cafe has to offer. The soft swoop of your neck is revealed as you lean in closer to peer at the deserts hidden behind the glass. A bead of sweat trickles down into the hollow of your collarbone, and Megumi swallows hard, forcing himself to look away. The flush on his cheeks is from the summer heat, he tells himself. He can’t quite bring himself to believe it.

“Fushiguro!” you call out, and he forces himself to look at you. “What is it?”

“Aren’t you going to get a drink?”

Megumi hesitates, before grumbling an affirmative. As the other three move to secure a table, he turns to face the cashier. She seems younger than him by a few years, makeup done even in the hot weather with mascaraed eyelashes batting at him innocently. She misses the proffered bills, running her hand along his, before apologizing a bit breathily. “It’s fine,” Megumi sighs. His thoughts wander as the cashier chatters away mindlessly. You were favoring your right side. Were you injured? Had one of the curses somehow reached you before he could stop them? Your technique had seemed to wane towards the end of the fight. Were you overexerted? Did he have to speak to Gojo about how hard he’d been training you?

He pulls himself from his thoughts just in time to notice the cashier leaning over the counter, watching him curiously. “Would you like a receipt, sir?”

“No,” is his curt reply, shoving all of his traitorous thoughts of you deep down inside of himself. The cashier pouts. “If you fill out a survey, you can get five dollars off on your purchase!”

Megumi can feel himself grimacing. Nobara would kick his ass if he didn’t at least take it and offer it to her. “Fine then.” As he turns back to the table, he scowls at the too-bright smile on Yuuji’s face. “What’s that look for?”

“Fushiguro, she was totally hitting on you!”

He swats away the eager high five. “Did the curses fuck with your brain or something?”

“No, seriously, look at the receipt she gave you!”

Megumi can feel the heat of your gaze as he unravels the receipt. Under the printed text of “FIVE DOLLARS OFF AFTER SURVEY COMPLETION!” was a line of neatly printed numbers. Scowling, he shoves the offending piece of paper in your direction. “Here. Take it.”

“I don’t want your leftovers,” you shoot back, eyes blazing, and his traitorous heart wrenches. “It’s not for the number, idiot. Weren’t you and Kugisaki just complaining about spending that much money on drinks? Take the survey and stop whining.”

He lets himself fall back in the familiar rhythm of bickering with Nobara as she swats at him. He’ll do anything to avoid the way your offended gaze turns thoughtful, how you seem to study his face as he forces himself to continue the lie he’s let himself live. You cannot be his, Megumi thinks desperately, even after the four of you depart the cafe, and after you toss the crumpled up wad of paper into the trash can. Even as you fall asleep in the backseat of the car, head perched onto his shoulder, he fights down the growing panic and nausea. He would rather break his own heart in the process than let you suffer from his affections.

Cursed, he thinks. There’s a reason his mother passed, his father killed, and his sister stolen away. He’s as cursed as the shadows that seep from his domain with their tendrils that wrap and curl over every inch of light. Megumi has already accepted that the feelings that grow by the day can never be revealed. You, with your sunshine laugh, whose tender hands would always reach for him after a mission. Fushiguro, you’d say, kindly. You’re hurt again. Let me grab the first aid kit. You, with your hands that are soft and gentle, as much as Megumi’s hands are calloused and stained.

I love you, he finally admits, as he carries you from the car back to your room. Yuuji had an ankle injury, and Nobara couldn’t handle hauling your weight up the stairs leading back to Jujutsu Tech. At least, that’s what he tells himself, as he shifts your weight in his arms, feeling the way you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. I love you. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep, brow crinkling ever so slightly. Gently, Megumi smoothes it over with his thumb. I love you.

Fushiguro Megumi was by no means a religious man. He’d known that there was no god in the battlefields of a sorcerer, no mercy in the torturous death that only curses could offer. And yet, as he lowers you down to the comfort of your mattress, he finds himself praying. I’ll do anything, he thinks, as he watches you in the depths of your slumber. I’ll give up my body, my soul, my life. Just please let her live. Please let her be happy.

Please give her someone that could take better care of her than I ever could.

Fushiguro Megumi found you in the first rainfall of spring.

You hadn't noticed him, quietly watching the droplets fall on the sakura trees planted near the perimeter of Jujutsu Tech. The edges of your kimono were stained with mud, with a chunk of your haori ripped out on the left side. Megumi frowned. Silk, he noted, and gold. You’re dressed too well to be here, but too oblivious to be a threat. Just to be sure, he let his fingers curl around the handle of one of his tonfas before he spoke.

“Who are you?”

Startled, you turned to face him, and his scowl deepened. You were pretty, even with your eyes rounded in shock, and the undignified noise that had escaped you when you realized you weren’t alone. When you told him your name, voice hesitant, Megumi couldn't help but hate the way his heart reacted as you spoke.

“I’m looking for Gojo Satoru,” you finished, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip as you waited for his response. Megumi swallowed hard.

“A lot of people do.” He kept his tone steady, forced himself not to let the heat in his chest rise to his face. “What’s a Kamo doing here, looking for him?”

Megumi had heard of you, of course. Gojo had raised him with at least a basic understanding of the three Big Families, and their prominent figures from both the past and present. The half-sister to Noritoshi Kamo, you had been held behind while your elders sent him away to the sister school in Kyoto. Women, Gojo had said, tone playful but eyes cold, are seen as nothing more than breeding stock and political pawns. They’ll probably keep her there until she’s married off.

Something seems to settle inside you, and Megumi can’t help but watch, ensnared in the web you weave. Your hands smooth over the creases in your kimono as you exhaled, shoulders rounding back. Even covered in grime you radiated elegance, though you were betrayed by the still-skittish look in your eyes. “I’m here to make a deal with him.”

A few days after the four of you had returned from your assignment in Kawasaki, you realized that Megumi was behaving rather oddly.

At first, he seemed moody. Tired, you assumed. With promotions coming up, Gojo-sensei had been training the four of you even more rigorously than usual. Your mornings were filled with research, analyzing the few texts that Jujutsu Tech had recovered on cursed techniques that were even remotely similar to your own. The evenings were spent sparring, with thick dust kicked up under the lukewarm breeze, and the faint howls of Megumi’s shikigami in the distance.

Sighing, you squat down, calling softly into the woods until one of his Divine Dogs trot out, tongue lolling out happily. You can’t help the wistful smile that tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through soft, black fur. They’d taken a liking to you, after you started carrying a few dog treats in your gear to give to them. Megumi had always complained that you spoiled them, babied them too much. You couldn’t help it. You loved his shikigami dearly.

What did that say about you? The thought makes you lightheaded for a moment. The heat, you think, a bit desperate. It was all the heat.

“You’re late.”

You tilt your head backwards, startling at how close he’d gotten to you. He’s dressed for the summer heat, ditching his uniform for something more practical. Linen pants brush by you as he reaches your side, and your heart seems to convulse when you realize you can see the slight ripple of muscle under the fabric of his shirt. Heat flares in your cheeks and you look away. Stormy eyes study you, a flicker of something predatory passing through them before he turns to his shikigami.

“And you. Stop running off like that.”

The Divine Dog whines, and you crinkle your nose, turning back to meet his gaze. “I was calling for it because I couldn’t find you. You weren’t where we normally spar.”

“Gojo wanted us to use the other fields.”

“Fine, fine.” Petulant, you reach for his wrist, hoisting yourself up off the ground. Before you can even speak, he’s tearing it from your grasp as though you’ve burnt him. “Hurry up. We’re losing light.”

You follow after him quietly, ignoring the sting in your hand from the phantom contact. He’s probably overwhelmed with the work we’ve been doing, you remind yourself, yet you can’t help the slight feeling of dread that runs up your spine. His dog noses at your palm, whining softly, as thought it can sense your distress. Its owner however seems none the wiser.

“Why did you want to spar today? Didn’t Gojo-sensei say we could take today off?”

“The next mission is the one that the higher-ups are sending us on to see if we should be recommended for a higher grade. That means it’s going to be more dangerous than usual.”

The trees clear to reveal a clearing, grass matted down from hours of sparring. “I hate when you’re right.”

Megumi spares you a sharp glance but says nothing else. “Warm up quickly. I want to be back before it gets dark.”

You stretch out under the waning light, letting your technique run through your body for a few moments. Cheating, Yuuji would insist, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager for a fight. The upcoming mission loomed over you, anxiety building as you thought about the uncertainties of it all. You hadn’t trusted the higher-ups from the beginning, and you especially didn’t trust them in any circumstance where Itadori Yuuji’s life was at risk. You exhale, feeling the familiar buzz of your cursed energy flow as you move. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Sparring with Megumi feels like a dance, more than anything else. He was your partner long before Yuuji and Nobara had even transferred to Tokyo, and your body has been trained to move as seamlessly with him as possible. Every step forward he takes you step back, and with each swing of the staff, your katana rises up to meet up. You lose yourself in it for a moment, watching the way his jaw clenches in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as you narrowly avoid a pointed elbow. A sharp jab of your blade, and Megumi is suddenly right in front of you. The air leaves your lungs in his presence taking in the scent of his laundry detergent and the slightest tinge of the soap he uses. He takes advantage of your distraction to disarm you, flipping you neatly into a hold.

“Yield,” he says, pressing his knee down into your stomach a little more firmly. You try your best to ignore the sight of him kneeled between your legs as you try to kick out from under him. His eyes darken at the sight of you, pinned and struggling to free yourself.

“Yield,” he says, once more, and you do, letting your body rest against the ground as you stare up at him. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, the veins of his slender hands raised as he holds his staff. You let your hand curl against the wood of it, feeling the pressure of it resting on your throat.

“I yield,” you say, and in that moment you know that you have. Fushiguro Megumi has stolen your heart from the day you met him. I’d give you everything, you realize, as Megumi helps you to your feet. There are 35 trillion blood cells in the human body, and every single one of them runs for you. You let your fingers intertwine with his for the briefest moment before forcing yourself to pull away. I would do anything to have you. My greatest sin and my holiest salvation wrapped into a single body.

“That was a good fight,” he tells you, taking your silence for sulking. Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I did want to fall for you. Would that be such a sin?

“Thanks,” is your stilted answer, the setting sun sealing your fate. You’re in love with Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t quite know what to do about it.

The mission is simple enough, until it isn’t. An abandoned hospital, Ijitchi had said in the car ride over. Residual curses had been spotted clinging to the interior, feeding off of an unknown source within. Intel had suggested that it was a Grade 2 spirit at most. You watch as Nobara takes a bit too much pleasure in nailing the swarms of weak curses that had greeted you at the entrance, Yuuji laughing at how easily his fists send them to a rather unpleasant demise. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. This is too easy for a promotion mission. What were they hiding?

Then Megumi opens the doors to what would’ve been the emergency room, and all hell breaks loose.

Bloodstains, bright red, catch your eye first. They’re splattered all over the room, on the floor, curtains, and on the hospital sheets yellowed with age. You see the bones next. Human; skulls, ribcages, femurs, all picked clean and white enough to shine under the fluorescent lighting. The light flickers. A tumorous mass sits in the center of the room, a conglomeration of hair, teeth, and eyes that blink slowly at you. Your spine stiffens, and immediately, you pull Megumi towards you as a ropelike strand of hair tightens around the spot where he was standing.

Those fuckers. A Semi-Grade 1?

“Megumi,” is all you can make out. In the hallway, you can hear something more menacing, something equally as terrible as what sits in the room inside with you. You can hear Nobara’s cry of pain as a nauseating crack rips through the air. They won’t survive without him. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen in understanding a fraction too late as you gather all your energy and shove him back out into the corridor as the curse flings a file cabinet at you. It crashes into the door, and you can hear Megumi calling your name with something that sounds like desperation. The hinges rattle as he throws his weight against it, but the cabinet holds firm. When you turn to face the curse in front of you, the look in its eyes is amused as you draw your blade. A cavernous maw opens, splitting it down the center as misshapen lumps of flesh spill out. Smaller curses, remnants of the innocents it had lured and devoured. A sudden chill goes through your body.

This isn’t a Semi-Grade. This is a full-fledged Grade 1.

There’s something vicious in the way you move, tearing through cursed spirits as though they’re paper. Ichor stains the ground around you, as red as the blood you channel through your veins. Dimly, you think you’re screaming. It was a set up, you think desperately. Of course the higher-ups would try to kill Itadori Yuuji at any cost. They didn’t give a fuck about you, or Nobara, or Megumi. Fury fills the cavern of your chest as you lunge for the hulking Grade 1, as it grotesquely pushes out the corpse of one of its victims into something far more sinister. You rip it to shreds without a second thought.

The sound of steel on flesh makes the hair of your arms rise as you finally manage to cut a nasty gash into the misshapen curse in front of you. It howls in pain, tendrils reaching for your body as you leap away. Instead, the tendrils open the serrated wound a bit further, opening a new pocket for its children to crawl out of. That was the first blow you’d been able to land; ten minutes have passed since you trapped yourself inside a room with it. Will you make it out alive? You shake the thought away angrily.

Gritting your teeth, you increase your blood flow, shooting it down to your legs and the fibers of your muscles. Your blade shines as it cuts down curses, the Grade 1 merely watching with a demeanor that you can only describe as bored. It’s toying with you, you realize, but what pricks your heart isn’t fear, but resignation. Your foot catches on the rubble for only a moment, and the Grade 1 moves, slamming you into the wall with enough force for you to feel your ribs shatter. Blood fills your mouth and you choke, lungs heaving. Punctured, your technique tells you, a liter gone. The air tastes like iron and salt, and you realize with a start that you’re dying.

You feel oddly calm as the world spins, watching as the ropes of hair approach your prone body. The last thing you see is the door shattering open, and the look in Megumi’s eyes as he sees you. There’s terror in his normally stoic expression, his arm outstretched towards you as Nue dives for you. Nobara and Yuuji are moving, but all you can see is him. His hands are bloodied at the fingertips, as though he’d been clawing at the door with his own hands to pry it open, his lips moving soundlessly. There’s a dull ringing in your ears, the toll of death that signals your end. His hand cups your face, and you allow yourself to lean into it for a moment, reveling in the touch. I could die like this, is your final thought as you succumb to your injuries. I’m happy that you’re holding me, Megumi.

The world around you feels muted, when you finally awaken. Your vision is blurred as you peel your eyelids back, and you wince at the sensation. How long have you been out for? Slowly, the blurred tinges of light start to focus. A lamp, dimly lit to your right on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water and an empty cup. A punctured lung, a liter gone. Your hand drifts to the bandages that wrap your chest, carefully letting your cursed technique scan your body. A few lacerations, but for the most part you were fine. Crisp sheets rustle as you sit up, examining your surroundings. The hospital in the infirmary. Somehow, they managed to bring you back.

Megumi’s eyes, so desperate and lost as his hand reached for you.

You try not to think about it, as you carefully test your body. Your limbs ache, but that’s to be expected. Your hair has been neatly pulled away from your face; Nobara’s work, no doubt. Her screams from behind the door, the dread in your chest when you realized they might not survive without Megumi. You watch your fingers shake as you reach for the water, letting it soothe away the pain in your throat. Did she even make it? Did they live?

The door opens, startling you from your thoughts. Megumi stands in the doorway, hand pushing through his hair. You take a moment to examine him, noting the dark circles under his pale skin, and how his long hair seemed mussed. His eyes scan the room, passing over you before focusing on you with startling clarity.

“You’re awake.”

Hesitantly, you nod, as he drops into the seat beside you. “Did…did they…”

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Kugisaki and Itadori are fine.”

You stare down at your hands, letting the silence wash over you. Yet, you’re dimly aware of how suffocating it feels, how your shoulders were unable to relax even with the knowledge that your friends were alive and safe. Megumi continues to watch you, but before you can say something, anything, his voice fills the air, terse and clipped.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Startled, your eyes meet his. “What?”

“Did you think I was too weak? That I couldn’t handle it just because you’ve been a Grade 2 longer than I have?” The eyes that normally watched you with a hint of affectionate exasperation were cold, and hard. “You behaved recklessly. Did you even think about how it impacted the rest of us? Because of you, Kugisaki broke her leg, and Itadori almost had his arm cleaved off. You did all of that just for the rest of us to find you half dead in a puddle of your own bones and blood.”

“Stop it,” you whisper, but Megumi’s voice only twists into something far more cruel. “You thought you were being so brave, sacrificing yourself, only to realize that you weren’t that special. You couldn’t even take down that Grade 1 alone. Kugisaki had to save you, even as she was practically screaming from the pain.”

“Megumi,” you whisper, and he pauses, clearly unused to his name falling from your lips. “Why are you so angry at me?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly and you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, ashamed at the wetness in your eyes. “Where is this coming from? I don’t understa-”

He slams his palm against the wooden surface of your bedside table, rattling the drawers. “Are you really that stupid to ask what you did wrong? You fucked up. I thought you were different, but in reality, you’re no better than the rest of your clan, are you? You’re just another filthy Kamo.”

Your hands shake as you twist them into the off-white infirmary sheets. “What are you talking about?”

Megumi laughs, but it’s jaded, sharp. “Congratulations. You’re being promoted to a Semi-Grade 1, all because of your little stunt that landed the rest of us into hospital beds. Even though we all had to help you finish it off, they’re only choosing you. I wonder why.”

“Megumi.” Your voice rises, as your heart finally shatters. “I did it because I thought you would die, you know that. I don’t give a fuck about the politics of the higher ups, or my clan, or even my grade. I just wanted to protect you all. You know that.”

He rises from the chair next to your side, expression indifferent to the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “As if I’d believe you.”

“Megumi,” you call out, desperately, as he walks away. “Megumi!”

He doesn’t look back, and you’re left alone in the dark with only the moon to bear company as you sob. I don’t understand, you think, deliriously. Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you see I’d rather die than watch you break in front of me?

Megumi barely makes it to the lawn before he retches into the bushes. Bile rises in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut as he replays the moment over and over and over again. For five days, he’d held vigil at your bed. For five days, he realized that your love for him would get you killed. For five days, he’d wrapped his heart in iron, knowing that what he was about to do would break the both of you. I would’ve only gotten you killed, he thinks, numbly. It’s what landed you here in the first place.

Yet, Megumi can’t stop recalling the exact moment the relief in your eyes had turned into betrayal, how your lips had trembled and your hands shook. Your voice, desperate and pleading, calling his name as he forced his legs to walk away from you. How he can hear your sobs faintly trailing from the windows above, matching the tears that are trailing down his cheeks.

You’ll hate him forever, he thinks, dazed, as he forces himself onto his feet. You’ll hate him forever, and by god it’ll be the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, but as long as you’re alive he can bear it. As long as he never has to see you there again, laying in a heap of your own blood, eyes dazed and unseeing, he will carry the sins that it takes to keep you alive and away from him.

I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry that someone like me ever fell for someone like you. I love you so much that the thought of being without me tears me to shreds. I love how you take care of my shikigami like they're your own. I love how every touch you give me heals something that I didn't know I was missing. I love you, and I need you to live more than I need air to breathe.

I love you, and even though I don't think you'll ever forgive me, I'll always follow wherever you go.

#haerinwrites #megumi x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader angst #i would like to apologize in advance #that is all </3

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koolades-world · 2 days

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Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.

I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.

Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!

hi there! i can do that :)

hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me

enjoy!

Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself

Diavolo

he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert

you've never seen him more serious

he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack

he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3

Barbatos

if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you

since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future

in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it

perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)

Simeon

he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what

even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit

you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever

let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3

Luke

he's immediately freaking out

what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!

100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you

the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha

Solomon

he's very impressed!

gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice

deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable

even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha

Mephisto

he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation

he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness

it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is

if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections

Thirteen

she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time

she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large

but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before

she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33

Raphael

he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright

but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way

he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side

he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me thirteen #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me raphael #obey me mephisto #obey me solomon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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daisyblog · 3 days

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First Date

Summary: Harry and YN are set up on a date.

2019

Jonny had separately nagged YN and Harry to let him set them up on a date. Harry’s argument was that he was in the middle of writing his second album, and wanted to be on his own after his last break up. YN’s protest was that she was a single working Mum who didn’t have the time, and added “nobody wants to date a single mum”.

After what felt like months of constant begging, Harry and YN both gave in to their friend and agreed to go on a date. Jonny had arranged for them to meet at a small quiet restaurant on the outskirts of London, knowing Harry would want to stay under the radar.

YN had been nervous all day. She had messaged Jonny several times to try and cancel but he insisted that it was just nerves and she should give it a chance. Harry felt mixed emotions, part of him was nervous, he was meeting someone new but the other part of him was excited because he knew Jonny wouldn’t set him up with just anyone.

Harry arrived at the restaurant first, being fifteen minutes early. He was shown to their table which he was grateful was tucked into a corner away from other tables. He knew that was down to Jonny’s request. Wanting to calm his nervous, Harry ordered a bottle of wine for them, hoping YN liked it too.

He had just taken a small sip from his glass, when he saw the waiter walking towards him with a woman following behind. Harry stood from his chair, ready to greet her. “Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you”. Harry spoke first, bringing YN in for a hug.

“Jonny and his persuasive ways huh?”. YN joked, causing Harry to smile knowing Jonny must have nagged YN as much as he had nagged him.

Harry pulled YN’s chair out for her to sit before taking his place back in her own. “I ordered wine, I can get you something else if you’d prefer”.

“No…wine is perfect, thank you”. YN smiled with appreciation, showing her little dimples. “I like your tattoos”. She complimented as she noticed them on his arm, that was exposed due to his short sleeved shirt.

Harry glanced down as he looked at his arm, smiling slightly at the mixture of ink that covered his skin. “Uh thanks…I have too many to count”. He giggled. “Do you have any?”. He gestured to his tattoos.

YN hesitated before explaining. “I have one…on my wrist”. She turned her hand over to reveal the delicate ink on her right wrist. “It’s my son’s name”. YN watched for a change in Harry’s response or how he may end the date now.

But what surprised YN was Harry’s genuine grin as he looked down at her wrist. “What’s his name?”. His question was genuine, YN could tell by how he looked at her directly in the eye which a soft look.

“Jacob”. YN smiled as she thought about her favourite person. The little boy who saved her in more ways than he would ever know. “He’s five and a real sweetheart.”. Harry noticed how YN’s whole face lit up as she spoke about him. “Does me having a son not bother you?”. YN couldn’t help but ask.

Harry frowned at her question before shaking his head. “Of course not…I don’t date people based on if they’re a parent, or if they have a certain job or x amount of money in the bank…I date people for them.”.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t help but ask, I’m not used to people being so understanding when it comes to Jacob”. YN apologised, hoping she hadn’t ruined the date before it had started properly.

“Hey…it’s fine, you can be yourself tonight…there’s no judgement from me.” Harry reassured her, knowing how it felt for someone not to get to know you and having a false opinion.

“Thank you…that really means a lot”. YN smiled before taking a sip from her glass, needing to treat her dry throat.

“So tell me about you and Jacob…I can see he’s your life and I want to know more”. The sentence caused a spark in YN’s chest at how interested Harry was in not only her but the one person who mattered the most.

Harry and YN had talked, laughed and smiled all evening. YN couldn’t remember the last time she felt like herself and was able to be just YN and not just a Mum. Harry wondered how he hadn’t met YN sooner because for once someone didn’t want to speak to him because he was Harry Styles, he could see that YN was genuinely interested in getting to know him as just Harry.

Harry had learnt that YN was in university studying business when she fell pregnant but had to drop out before graduating. But now owned her own florist in London. He noticed that she hasn’t mentioned her family apart from Jacob, but decided it was best to leave it that way for now. She didn’t ask one question related to the band or his music, she asked questions about his family, where he grew up, his childhood memories and all the little things that built up who he is today.

After they had finished their meals and nicely argued about how the bill was going to be paid, they found themselves walking through a quieter part of town, still chatting and giggling like two teenagers. They wanted to blame the wine but deep down they both knew it was from the excitement of each other.

Harry had arranged for a taxi to drop them both back home. They were both supposed to realise that YN didn’t live far from Harry’s Hampstead house. He walked YN up to her door to make sure she was home safe. They both stood staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence. Smirks covering their smiles.

“I had a really nice time tonight”. Harry broke first, meaning what he had said.

“Me too!”. YN felt shy for the first time all evening.

“Can I see you again?”. Harry was bold, he hadn’t felt like this after a date before and he wasn’t willing to lose his chance.

YN smiled, she felt special and chosen for once and inside she was screaming with happiness. Harry really wanted to see her again. “I’d love that”.

They quickly swapped numbers and Harry was eager to arrange to see YN again. Before making his way back to the taxi that was waiting patiently, he leaned in to hug YN goodbye. It was like neither of them wanted to let go but the feeling of Harry’s lips leaving a peck on her cheek is what caused YN to jump around in happiness once she closed the door behind her that night.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r

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vivwritesfics · 2 days

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Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Three - Maxie

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.

On the third day, Max was ready to give up.

He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.

As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.

She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.

Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.

But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?

Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?

At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.

"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.

Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.

He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.

"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.

Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."

She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.

Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.

"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."

"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"

But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.

Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.

How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.

Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.

"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.

Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."

She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.

It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.

She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.

Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.

Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.

As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.

"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.

Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."

"Mr Du-"

But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.

"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"

Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."

She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.

A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."

With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.

right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa

Series taglist (CLOSED): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28 @evie-119 @bigratbitchsworld @closestthingtocoffee @maximofflove @sillygoose5 @purplephantomwolf @thehufflepuffavenger1 @thatsusbitch @annispamz

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emeraldspiral · 3 days

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So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is it's take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

#jane eyre

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the-lil-spud · 15 hours

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Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo part FOUR!

lets see what else is in store for y/n ... you didn't think Velvette was just going to let her get away now did you?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

Seems Velvette had tagged your photo on her story with the hashtag #newmodel? Flicking your gaze back up to an amused Angel.

“Well toots … you might as well collect all three than just two. Here’s to you babe - you are so fucked”. He raised his glass. Raising your own you blink in shock.

Fucked was right.

It had been a few days since your exciting little adventure to the Vee Tower, coupled with the fact Velvette had not only shared your post on Sinstagram but followed you was helping you gain thousands and thousands of new followers and likes. But like your tequila, you took this with more than a pinch of salt. The Vee’s didn’t do anything for free. There was always a catch. You were waiting for this one to hook you sooner or later.

Unfortunately for you, it was sooner rather than later. You had finished your job for the night ready to head home, plus there was a bottle of whiskey and a hot bath with your name on it. Arm raised to wave a taxi you were distracted by your phone starting to buzz in your other hand. Unknown Number. Huh, weird. Deciding to answer it you lower your arm. What harm could it do?

“Hello?”

“Is this Miss Y/n?” Frowning at the unfamiliar voice, hmm you were rather selective about who got your number. So … who was this?

“Speaking…?”

“Ah Miss Y/n I am Velvette’s assistant, and she is insisting that you come in to meet her to discuss an opportunity that you really do not want to miss out on” huh. Okay. Was not expecting that.

“Uh huhh … and when is she wanting to meet?” Looking up at the darkening sky you had a horrible feeling you weren’t going to be going home anytime soon.

“Well, what are you doing now?” Ohhh nooo! Come on!

“I have just finished work and was actu-”

“Ah perfect so you are free. Come to the Vee tower now and we will sort everything. See you soon” your mouth opened and closed as they hung up on the phone. Right eye twitching you took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. The bloody nerve! Grinding your teeth you raise your arm up again and wave at a taxi. Trying to calm your anger you shove yourself in the first one that appears, telling them to take you to the Vee Tower. Stewing in the backseat you think it must be nice to be an Overlord – just ordering small insignificant demons around. Shaking off the attitude you realise you need to tidy yourself up.

Looking down at your outfit, a sigh escapes you. Not exactly the outfit you’d want to meet the fashionista Overlord in – a leather bustier, leather pants and your customary neon pink accessories and heels matching of course with your favourite faux fur coat – but it was going to have to do. You didn’t exactly have time to prepare. Scurrying around in your purse to find your compact mirror, you quickly tidy up your eyeliner – snarling at the cabbie when he purposefully swerved nearly wrecking your makeup – and pop a new layer of dark pink lipstick on with a topping of gloss. A quick fluff to your blonde/pink hair and that was the best it was gonna get with such little time to prepare. Spying your perfume, you give a little spritz to your neck, wrists, and boobs. Noting that you’d need to get some more on your next outing as you were nearly out.

Thankfully you had just enough time to get all that done before the taxi pulled up at the tower, throwing the money at the demon you step out on the street. If possible the tower seemed even taller than before. Intimidating. Shaking your head you steel yourself for this meeting, how the last one went down with the other two is not what you want this time round. No unnecessary touching. No being cornered. And no flirting. Okay maybe a little bit of flirting, you were a demon after all. Wait – no! No! Bad thoughts!

Stepping in to the reception you check the board to see what floor Velvette was on, marching to the elevators you ignore the same receptionist who seemed surprised to see you again. Yeah, Bitch I’m back! In the elevator you press Velvette’s floor and breath deeply. It would all be okay. Perhaps they were just going to tell you how much they liked your post? Or they were wanting a thank you in person for all the followers? Or how surprised at how naïve and stupid you sounded. Shaking your head you groan softly. Of course it wasn’t doing to be okay, dealing with the Vee’s was never okay. Or safe.

At the soft ding you pulled your attention away from your depressing thoughts and instead to the scene in front of you. Velvette yelling at a load of models, other demons running around grabbing body parts off the floor and clothes being burned. Well. That was different. A twitch of your lips hid a smile – so the Vee’s weren’t as organised and poised as they’d like you to believe. Good to know.

Taking a step into what felt like the Thunderdome your movement must have caught Velvette’s attention, she suddenly was advancing on you and quite fast for someone so short. You thought you were small, but she only came up to your shoulder. Of course her attitude, energy and that amazing hairdo made up at least a foot, if not more. And living with the other two Vee’s she needed as much attitude and sass to keep up.

“Ah so you are Y/n, totally nice to meet you face to face. Saw your post girl and I am in love with them – that last photo dump was so gorgeous and hitting all the trends so good on you.” Linking her arm with yours like you two were old buddies she pulled you further into the room, her voice so quick you had to focus so intently to understand what she was saying.

“So … any who, guess you are wondering why I brought you here?” She gently shoved you down on the chaise lounge, a small ‘offt’ escapes your lips when you hit the seat. Steadying yourself you turn your body to face the Overlord who decided to take a seat right next to you. Your knees almost touching. Okay then.

“Yes, I was curious why…” a glass of champagne appeared in front of your nose – accepting it gingerly you carefully held it in your lap thanking the demon who passed her boss a glass.

“Look, your style is cute but I think with my influence your style can be out of this world – I am in the market for a new model” - a glance to the pile of body parts in the corner of the room made you gulp - “and with your figure and my style we could totally rock this Hell, making us a tonne of money and you a star so whatcha think – whatcha say I can sort the contract out asap no problem, no fuss”. Blinking in a bit of shock at the speed of what she spoke and what she was speaking about you had to hold your hand up to stop her for a second. Information overload.

“Uh – wow that’s real generous of you Miss Velvette-“

“Please call be Velvette, or Vel! None of this Miss business,” Her smirk was widening, her black lipstick was shining under the florescent lights above us.

“Well, Velvette, I am really touched that you think I could model for you as your fashion range is just fantastic and I love it – but if I am to sign that contract what am I giving you?” You pretend to take a sip from your glass. No liquid entered your lips. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d heard of someone being drugged and signing their soul away – you wouldn’t be one of those.

“Oh, nothing big really. Just something tiny. Teeny really. You wouldn’t even miss it.” She wafted one of her hands around as the other was typing away on her phone.

“Uh huh and what would that teeny tiny thing that I wouldn’t miss be?” You hedged her for the answer what you knew was coming.

“Just your soul babes – nothing big.” Yeah, to her maybe. To you it was a massive thing. And you’ll be honest, you didn’t have masses in this Hell but you did have your soul which was more than some have.

“Then the answer is going to be no, Velvette” you placed your glass down on the table. Her fingers stopped twitching across her screen, her red eyes focused solely on you. Now normally you were one to bow your head and not make eye contact, but you’d had enough of the bullying attitude of these Vee’s now – not one but two now have tried to contract you into losing your soul and you weren’t having it! Matching her glare with one of your own.

“No?” Keeping the eye contact you nodded.

“Not to say I am not grateful that you thought of me, or the fact you even took the time to speak to me. But my soul is non-negotiable. Plus, I have a job already. One which I love and want to continue. So, thank you. But my answer is and will always be - No.” You might have held your eye contact, but your hands were starting to tremble a little. Clenching them together in fists you keep your gaze on hers. A small sneer was pulling on her lips, and you were getting ready to be dismembered like the model before you. But it never came. Instead, she laughed. Laughed?!

Not like an evil MWAHAHA laugh. But a genuine laugh. Confused you wrung your hands together as she lightly slapped your knee and wiped a tear from her eye.

“You got guts girl; I’ll give you that.” A strained smile tugged at your lips, dead heart thumping in your chest. “Fine then. No soul contract – which is a shame we could have had so much fun” her expression darkened with mischief sparkling in her eyes pulling a little heat to your cheeks. “But instead let’s make a little deal? No souls just two businesswomen making a deal, whatcha say?”

Raising your eyebrows in interest you place your elbows on your knees leaning forwards: “what do you suggest?”

“Your socials are starting to take off, people are noticing you babes, and I am here for it! You are a rising star, don’t think I haven’t been paying attention and seeing that people are using your hashtags and your name when they’ve seen you at one of the clubs singing performing”, surprised she had even looked you could feel your blush deepen. “So, here’s the deal – you wear some of my designs, tag them in your socials, etc and you come and do a catwalk for me and sing?”

“You want me to promote your clothes and sing at one of your Cat Walks?” you clarify because this evening was not going the way you had planned or thought it would go.

“That’s it gorgeous – whatcha think?” You think this was probably the longest Velvette had been off her phone.

“And that’s it? No loopholes, no contracts, no soul-binding – just for me to wear your clothes, promote them on my social media and sing at one of your cat walks – that’s it?” You narrow your gaze at the Overlord, there’s got to be some sort of catch here. The way she was gazing at you like a cat that had caught the canary you were sure you were screwed in some way.

“That’s it honey. No catch, no loopholes, just good business”. Humming under your breath, you racked your brains to see if there was anything that could go wrong.

“Okay, how long do I have to promote your clothes for and when is the Catwalk show?” you ask, tapping on your own phone bringing up your notes and typing away.

“Shall we give it six months and see what happens from there? The next Catwalk is in a one month’s time” her smile only got bigger. You couldn’t think where or what could be a loophole, it seemed like too good of a deal. And your mama raised you to believe if a deal was too good to be true then it usually is. But then again. When did you ever listen to her?

“So far so good, but what do you get out of it?” Her smirk grew, well that can’t be good. She reached over and squeezed your leg softly, your eyes flitted from her hand to her smug expression.

“I get exactly what I want gorgeous, but honestly helping rising stars get their fame is mainly it” her charming smile didn’t win you over. She was a lying. But let her keep her lies for now. You knew how to play the game and so far, you hadn’t been burnt. What’s a little risk.

“Okay Velvette, you have a deal”. Raising your hand, she slapped hers into yours and gave it a strong shake – red and black smoke erupted from her making you jump back a little but was stopped from the grip she had. Her grin was terrifying. Her hair was waving around her head like it was full of static. But as soon as the smoke and lights appeared, they disappeared as if you had imagined it. Pulling your hand away, the tingle of electricity ran through your fingers, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. Not at all.

“Well then gorgeous now that’s all done – you can pop back tomorrow and we will get all your measurements and go through colour schemes, styles, etc so keep you day wide open yeah!” Finishing off her glass of champagne we leaned back against the chaise lounge – never once had she let her gaze off you.

Nodding in agreement you thank her while rising from your seat, it was time for you to go and drown yourself in that bottle of whiskey. “You can stay if you’d like?” A flush covered your cheeks at her racking her gaze up your body.

“Thank you, but I better get home. Big day tomorrow I want to be rested” you give her your best winning smile, slipping your purse under your arm. Rolling her red eyes at you she huffed a little, “fineee be boring babes”. Happily!

Before you could even think of taking a step towards the elevator the doors slid open. An unimpressed Vox stood in the middle tapping away on his own phone, not tearing his gaze away from it he steps into the room.

“So what unfortunate soul have you managed to convince to work with you now Vel?” His charismatic voice lacked his usual flare and instead sounded bored. Not something you usually would hear from the TV Demon.

Clearing your throat, you were frozen in place when his eyes connected with yours. Uh oh.

“That unfortunate soul would be me” you smile nervously at him, watching as his screen glitched slightly. That was weird. His bored expression disappeared with the glitch and in its place was his usual charming smile.

“Ah Miss Y/n what a pleasure to see you! What was that you just said?” Velvette appeared at your side, wrapping an arm through yours you watched his screen glitch a little again.

“She’s mine now Voxxie” she smirked at the glitching demon.

“She’s WHAT?!”

Taglist: @tasha-1994 @azullynxx

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wasabi-gumdrop · 1 day

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thinking about modern au Kabru

ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).

Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).

his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).

he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).

he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.

Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.

he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.

it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.

Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’

and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.

he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.

he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.

Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)

#wow if you made it to the end of this post here’s some surprise labru #kabru says fuck my gpa i need this white boy to like me #i am plagued by demons (labru professor/student situationship)#dungeon meshi modern au #ok but the Kabru Milsiril dynamic is my new favourite chew toy #especially them in a modern setting #all of the lavish gifts and expensive lifestyle that Milsiril would want Kabru to have #perhaps even as a way of depending on her forever (love to an unhealthy degree)#but Kabru is more interested in people than material things #so perhaps he’s a little out of touch financially (thinks a jug of milk costs $12)#but he’s still very much socially aware #enough to know that he can’t just be another annoying trust fund kid with a dumb car and designer clothes and zero fucks about academics #so his social and academic excellence is probably in large part overcompensation for his privileged upbringing #and even the thought of someone not liking him gives him stomach cramps LOL #kabru my love you will always be famous #kabru of utaya #kabru #wasabi rambles #labru #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 day

Text

The Man 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare at your phone. It can’t be. After everything else going wrong, you can’t deal with Floyd. It suddenly makes sense why he was messing around with your phone. Ew, he’s kind of a creep.

You don’t answer and put the phone away. Well. You have no money, you’re about to have no home, and your milk is spoiled. Don’t panic. You can figure this out. You’re an adult, aren’t you?

First, go to the bank. You need milk. Once you have a coffee, you’ll worry about the whole eviction thing. You leave the convenience store and open Maps to look for the nearest bank kiosk. Not too far, one block. At least you’re getting your steps in.

You follow the directions on screen and turn to cross the road. You’re so distracted, you forget to look both ways and nearly get hit by a gleaming bumper. You wave a head but don’t look up. You need to get to the bank.

You come up to the pulsing blue dot and glance around. Huh. You don’t see a bank. You turn around and face the ATM built into the side of the building. Oh goddang! You walked to a bank machine, not a bank. Is it you? Are you the problem?

You drop your shoulders. Alright. You’ll just try again. You scroll to the next location and spin around, nearly colliding with a new wall. Oh, not a wall, a person.

You look up at Mr. Henson as he watches you with a line between his brows. Somehow, you’re not very surrpised. This guy is everywhere. It’s almost like he has no hobbies.

“Oh, hi, sorry, excuse me, I’m just on my way to the bank--”

“Ah, running short? Need me to spot ya?” He raises his hand, showing a black credit card.

“Um... noooo,” you utter in confusion. The other day, you ran off after calling him names. You really don’t believe he’s changed his stripes. He’s still a snarling tiger getting ready to feast. “Thanks, but I--”

“Things are tight. Job market’s trash, housing isn’t any better, and those banks,” he whistles and puts his card away, “they like to fuck around, don’t they?”

You look at him, scrunching your face up.

“Y-yeah. Weirdly, I did just get a notice to...” your voice trails off. “Why are you bugging me?”

“Bugging you?” His brows pop up and he guffaws, “oh, sweet lips, you’re funny, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know few jokes but--”

“Think a little harder, cupcake,” he lowers his timber and stares at you.

You blink and wet your lips, pushing them together. Think about what?

“Look, about yesterday--”

“I’m talking about today,” he insists.

“Sure, uh...”

“Do I really need to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out?” You cringe, clawing for some hint of what he means.

“Your bank card isn’t working, right?” He asks, you nod. “You’re getting evicted.” Another nod. “You have no job.”

You make a face, “yes, okay. Rub it in. Alright. I get it. You’re some important guy and I’m a loser. Don’t worry. You own this city but I think I’m on my way out.”

He sighs and presses his fingers flat on either side of his nose. He drops them and opens his eyes again, “it was me. I’m the reason you—Don't you understand what I can do to you? I got you fired, kicked out, and poor in one day. What else do you think I could do?”

Your chest hollows out and your stomach lurches. What? Him? He just doesn’t stop.

“Sir, what—why would you—I'm sorry I called you a meanie. I was upset and the coffee, I tried--” You sniffle and shudder out a half-sob, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, well, you shoulda shut those sweet lips and opened those ears, huh?” He grins, “look, cupcake, you’re not going anywhere. You try to run back to your family, I’ll find you. Your mom’s a good lady, you shouldn’t trouble her. She doesn’t make enough teaching brats to put up with another one.”

“My mom—how--”

He spins his finger in the air, “catch up, honey bun. Alright? This is it. I’ll lay it out real clear for you, right now. You have no money, no home, you have nothing. You are nothing.” He jabs his finger at you, “so, I can solve all your problems and make you something.”

You look around. There’s really no way out. He’s a psychopath. You think. You don’t really know the difference between that and sociopath.

“Are you like CIA or something?” You ask.

He scoffs and flinches, “oh man, you are something else. Really, each time you open that mouth, I’m blown away by the idiocy. Rather just get blown, you get it?”

You shake your head and pout.

“Look, I think we can sort this out, Floyd. Really, I’m really sorry and I understand now. I get it. You’re very important and I messed up. I’m nothing and I did everything wrong. And from the bottom of my heart, I apologise. So, can I please have my life back?” You say, “I think we’d both be happier if we just went on our way and never saw each other again.”

His eyes dart away and he stares into the distance. Exasperation wrinkles above his brow and he looks back to you, hands on his hips, “too late, buttercup. So, let me put it as plain as I can. You don’t get a choice. You belong to me now. Just like everything else in this city. You are mine.”

“You can’t... do that.”

“I am doing that,” he insists. “Another thing,” he raises his hand, showing his palm, “it’s Lloyd.” He emphasizes the consonants of his name, “Lloyd Hansen. You can call me sir or Mr. Hansen. Hell, if we’re getting frisky, you can call me daddy.”

“Ugh,” you groan in disgust and curl your lip.

“Ugh?” He mimick the noise, “I’m about to--” He shakes his hand and sucks in the end of his sentence, “fine. Show, don’t tell. Got it.”

You cry out as suddenly he lunges at you. He grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you forward down the sidewalk. He marches beside you as you writhe and paw at his large hand. You whimper, helpless as pedestrians move out of your path.

“Your mouth got you into trouble, now let’s see if it can get you out,” he growls.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the man #the gray man #drabble #series #au #mob au

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caffedrine · 2 days

Text

Matias Asbrink - GW Happy Bag 2024 - Summary

Still not good at my reading comprehension, much less my Japanese language skill. If you depend on this to be accurate, you have made a major mistake in your life and should rethink the path of events that brought you here.

(Just your everyday innocent daydreamer who the Geneva Conventions want a word with)

One day while staying in Achroite, Emma was invited to the castle’s dance hall by Matais.

Unlike Rhodolite’s dance hall, the polished wood floor had geometric patterns that created a warm space and made Emma’s heart flutter. Her breath was misty white, but she was in such awe that she didn’t even notice the cold.

Matias reminds Emma that during one of their conversations, she had mentioned reading about the dance hall in a book and had wanted to see it for herself. Emma is impressed that Matias remembered that casual remark, and thanks him for thinking about her.

Matias is looking at Emma, before remarking that her ballgown suits her. Emma is confused, she’s not wearing a ball gown. Just in case, she glances down and, yes, she’s still wearing her normal work skirt and blouse, with the addition of a coat.

Matias apologizes and agrees that he doesn’t think her workwear is a ballgown. He asks if Emma can dance, and she tells him that she has gone back in Rhodolite. Privately, she fondly recalls Sariel’s harsh lessons.

Since she can dance, Matias offers to bring her to the next dinner party hosted here. Emma reminds him that she’s just a commoner and a bookstore clerk at that, but Matias hurries to reassure her. Achroite is progressive enough that even those without peerage can join balls at the palace.

Besides, Emma is his friend. That gives her some privileges in his home.

(We wouldn't take advantage of him . . . right?)

Emma is surprised at being called Matias’ ‘friend’ and he grows concerned. Aren’t they friends? Was he wrong?

Emma quickly reassures him that she’s happy and honored to be considered his friend. Matias smiles in relief, the attractiveness of it making her dizzy.

Well, then, since they’re confirmed friends, Matias would like to give her a dress to memorialize the event. Emma starts to refuse, but Matias insists. It would be difficult for a commoner bookstore clerk to prepare the dress herself, so he will gift one to her, as to not overburden his new friend. Besides, he’s already made some plans.

He’s currently deciding between a pure white dress as lovely as a snow spirit, or a red dress as passionate and bewitching as a rose. Oh, but don’t worry, it will be neat and modest while still enhancing her beautiful waistline. And, like any dress, it will be one that she’ll have to gently hold up to avoid tripping and falling over the hemline . . .

Emma tries to get Matias’ attention, and he comes back to himself. He assures her that she won’t have to worry about her dress in any way, and tells her to leave the arrangements to him. His determination radiates with a sensual sexiness, and Emma gives in before her heart fails her.

Emma tells Matias that she now owes him and needs to make up the cost of this dress. Matias is confused at this, but then leaps on the chance, he asks if she wouldn’t mind practicing dancing with him. He wants to dance perfectly for the upcoming ball, but unfortunately cannot find a dance partner.

Emma is confused, Matias and his sexy, sexy self should be able to find a partner without any problems. Matias explains that he has asked several women to be his partner in the past, but the practice failed. For some reason, they would just stare at him and not dance properly, or act like a predator who has just captured their prey. Unlike his other female acquaintances, Emma can speak to him normally.

Emma begins to wonder what kind of experiences Matias has had with other women.

Matias concludes his thought by adding that having Emma as a friend is very precious, and worth the cost of a dress.

(Just a friendship date)

If that’s what he thinks, then Emma would be happy to comply. Besides, its been a little while since she last danced and she could use the practice. Matias is pleased and suggests they start immediately. As in right now. When Emma balks, Matias reminds her that it is quite cold and moving would warm them up.

Accepting Matias’ hand, Emma is led to the center of the dance floor, and the warmth of his hand spreads through her body. Matias’ steps were precise and perfect, to the point that Emma doubted he really needed to practice. Even though she was rusty, thanks to Matias’ lead, her steps were smooth. She was having a lot of fun dancing with him.

Matias notes that it’s fun to dance with friends, and Emma agrees. The hand on Emma’s waist holds her close, the distance between them taking her breath away.

Matias asks if Emma will accompany him during the ball as his partner, as he has no intention of letting another man dance with her. Emma considers it, thinking that Matias’ voice is even sexier up close, making her imagine wicked things.

Emma had been cold at the start, but before she knew it, her body was boiling hot.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #matias asbrink

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the-scythes-pen · 18 hours

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Ratio x Reader

I threw this together for my dear friend's birthday! ♥ sorry it's not that great tho, my brain feels fried ;w; hopefully it's still ok though... </3

edit: rip copy + paste from google docs shredded any italics </3

-----------

“…and where do you think you’re going?”

You’re barely able to even squeak before a pair of strong, muscular arms wrap tightly around your waist and drag you back into the warm body they belong to; the sheets falling back around your body and embracing you in tender warmth just as the man behind you does.

You can feel his breath across your neck and jaw, can feel the way his strong hands so gently caress your skin, just barely teasing the bottom of your breasts.

His voice is groggy, low, and almost a growl due to him still being half-asleep, his eyes still closed and his face buried in your hair as he just barely is able to remain conscious.

“…Veritas, I gotta get up-”

Your protest is cut off by his deep sigh, and his biceps squeezing you just a little tighter.

“I do believe I told you to keep this day free of any activities, and yet you still have something you must do…”

“I couldn’t just say I can’t go, it’s mandatory-”

“That does not sound like it has anything to do with me, does it? Thus, it isn’t my problem if you happen to be late- or neglect to show up at all.”

Now it was your turn to sigh. Why was he choosing now of all times to be stubborn? He knew you had to go, and it wasn’t like he was one to encourage this type of behaviour.

“You will not be severely punished for being late, yes? So stay with me a little bit longer.”

Oh, how you wish you could. With his firm chest against your back, his arms wrapped around you oh-so-tightly, and his scent all around you. It really was heavenly here.

“Veritas, I can’t…”

You try to move again, to swing your feet over the edge of the plush bed, but Veritas is swift to pull you tighter against him.

“Stop moving. I still have a bit of time to sleep in. Do not make me angry, darling.”

A thought passes through your mind- what if you want to make him angry…? No, no- bad- you really shouldn’t! Ah, but it is really comfy here, and you are still tired…

Your hands idly wander his forearms as your eyes close, letting out a breath through your nose as your body sinks back into the mattress. “To think that I must let you go on a day such as this…” Veritas grumbles into your ear, his voice rough and husky. “…it truly is a travesty.”

You can feel his arms squeeze you just a little bit tighter, as if he knew that you didn’t want to leave him either, as if he knew that you were a bit worried about today, and wanted to keep you safe in his arms.

It’s a few minutes before you realize you nearly dozed off like this, wrapped in Veritas’ embrace, and you decide to take advantage of his seemingly loosened hold of you- pushing his arms off of you to pull yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed.

Before you could even make it all the way up however, you were suddenly yanked right back down into bed, your back hitting the bedsheets and your head once more on the pillow; and when your mind finally caught up with what was going on, you saw Veritas’ intense honeyed eyes boring into you from above.

“I told you to not make me angry, darling.” He says in that gruff, morning voice of his. “And yet you still insist on being difficult.”

Your face blooms into a deep blush, red decorating your cheeks as Ratio smirks in response to your own reaction.

He knows how much you love his physique, how much you love to see his bulging biceps and thick pecs.

However, Veritas Ratio is also aware of just how much you love his dick.

So when he sees your eyes dart away in shyness, sees how your breath catches and how your face becomes several shades darker, he’s more than willing to bring your focus back to him.

“No no, darling, look at me when I am speaking to you.” His thick fingers grasp your chin, guiding your face back towards him before tilting your head down.

His thick, erect cock laid heavy on your navel; his tip just reaching your belly button.

“Do you really think I’m going to allow you to escape when your mere presence provokes such an animalistic response in me? No- I’m going to teach you how to take care of what you’ve caused…”

#honkai star rail #veritas ratio #dr ratio #x reader #reader insert #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #ratio x reader

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trashogram · 1 day

Text

A Drabble for Octavia in the He Chose You universe (if you don’t know what that is, it’s just a Lucifer/Reader I’ve made — you’re the Queen of Hell) who deserves none of the BS she’s had to deal with in Helluva Boss.

Octavia knelt to sit on the playmat, long legs awkwardly splaying outward as she tried to get comfortable. Even if she managed to make her lower half unwind, the Goetian heiress couldn’t imagine her shoulders loosening in this expansive, unbelievable castle. It was even more opulent than her own home. Princess Charlotte watched her make the attempt with a wide, gummy smile from where she’d been trying to roll onto her tummy. Her mother, the Queen, had gotten up only a moment ago and was speaking in hushed tones with the person Via wished the least to see much less hear since she’d taken shelter in Lucifer’s palace.

Pudgy hands on chubby baby arms reached out and Octavia couldn’t help smirking. She reached back and allowed Charlotte to grab onto one of her talons, sharp point curled inward to prevent any injury to the fragile baby.

The baby yanked at her owl counterpart and babbled, until Octavia’s smile softened into something more genuine. It was as if Charlotte knew that Via needed distraction.

“Your majesty, I understand what you’re saying, but I must insist that I at least see my daughter.”

Octavia sunk down further onto the plush pink carpet at the sound of her father’s voice.

“It’s been days!” Stolas said, loud enough to be heard from behind royal walls.

“And as I said before, Octavia shouldn’t be forced to do anything that she’s not comfortable with.” The Queen countered politely, yet firmly.

“Mah!” Octavia’s gaze switched from the ground to Charlotte once again.

The threat of tears in the bird’s glowing eyes were forgotten momentarily as she watched Hell’s princess struggle to flip from her back to her belly. Octavia couldn’t help her frame from shaking with quiet laughter at the sight.

Charlie waved a hand again and her playmate finally took the bait and gently pushed the baby to maneuver onto her side. Charlie’s hooves kicked in the air for purchase as she flopped the rest of the way. She huffed in satisfaction before looking back up at Via with her round, ruby eyes, arms held out to grip and kneed at the fibers beneath.

Charlotte babbled before scooting up toward Via, moving like an inchworm just to get to her.

“What are you doing?” Octavia snorted, instantly stopping the Devil baby in her tracks by leaning over and plucking the tiny thing from the floor.

It was so easy, like picking up taxidermic armadillo paperweight to admire. Just a tad more wriggly and loud.

Charlie smiled widely again and lightly petted Via’s beak. “Mah!”

“Yes, I heard you the first time.” Octavia held the Antichrist close, for lack of any alternative. “You’re nuts, you know?”

The familiar whoosh and accompanying sparkling light of a portal opening up a few feet away had Octavia pulling Charlie to her chest tightly. It earned her a high-pitched bit of nonsense, but Via waited in fear for the figure on the other side to step through.

The becoming-familiar figure of Lucifer hopped through. “Hello girls!”

It took Octavia a moment to get her bearings. Charlie fussed in the owl princess’s loosening arms as Lucifer focused on the two of them.

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. Didn’t mean to startle you!” The King hunched in on himself to appear smaller, voice going low. “Mom said she had to step out and I got here as fast as I could.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He continued. “Here, want me to take her?”

Octavia slowly gave Charlotte to her father, watching numbly as he lit up for the baby.

“Dah!” Charlie squealed.

“That’s right! Daddy’s here!” Lucifer kissed her brow, and Charlie was already enthusiastically babbling once more.

He looked back to Octavia. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long…?”

“No, he… he got here a few minutes ago.” Octavia answered.

Lucifer’s expression turned remorseful and subdued, even while Charlie grabbed at lapels. This was the fourth-going-on-fifth time Prince Stolas had come requesting his daughter’s return home, and the situation was becoming as sad as it was frustrating.

It was difficult for Lucifer personally. On one hand, he was a father, and he knew that he’d tear apart Heaven and Hell to keep Charlotte safe with himself and his wife. On the other hand, Octavia’s parents were definitely not Lucifer and his wife. Being around Stella and Stolas Goetia, especially at the height of their marriage falling apart at the seems and one attempting to kill the other — as well as the other flaunting their extramarital affairs (in front of Octavia for fuck’s sake) sounded like the opposite of safe.

“Hey,” Lucifer offered the Owl princess a hand while moving Charlie to his hip. “Are ya hungry? We’ve got a kitchen all the way on the opposite side of the house with anything you could ever want. Or oh! Maybe we could go to that arcade Mammon commissioned up here — Dag and Belphagor’s? I bet they have food, and non-rigged games! Well for us, anyway.”

Lucifer chuckled. And Via looked up at him for a long moment, sizing up the rather diminutive ruler of all Hell as he waited for her with utmost patience. Charlie mimicked him once she’d assessed the situation (as much as a baby could) and held out her hand to Octavia as well, with an energetic ‘Gah!’.

Via smiled before she took the offer. “Sure.”

#HCY #READER IS MOM AND LUCIFER IS DAD #Hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #octavia goetia #helluva boss #Frustration is my inspiration #This is pointless fluff crack idfk

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misshoneyimhome · 2 days

Note

Inexperienced reader marked up Willy's neck while sitting on his lap. His desperate groans forced her to bite down harder than she had before as they grinded against one another. She felt her heart rate speed up as her breathing became shallow. Willy's body began to tense up as he let out a loud moan. She released her grip and pulled away, her cheeks burning. Are you gonna try & hide them?" You say, pulling away with a pout on your lips. Willy shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he pointed his index finger at her. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm gonna show them off." They are both possessive in their own right.

Mmm yes, they're definitely possessive babe! And we them for it 😉

So, this chapter turned out to be rather soft, yet still filled with loads of smut - and I just hope you all enjoy it 😊🤍

[casual outing] [Hair tucking]

Tropes & warnings; jealous!Willy, Jealous!reader, Smut 18+; fingering, handjob, penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, light spanking, cum inside, oral sex (m receiving), more penetrative sex (p in vi), cum shot, praise!kink;

Word count; 5.6K

"God morgon, prinsessa," = Good morning, princess

"God morgon, min prins," = Good morning, my prince

「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @Fortheloveofnylander @justwanderingbutneverlost

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt XV I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

Navigating life as an NHL girlfriend always came with its share of highs and lows. And as the regular season drew to a close and the playoffs loomed closer, you found yourself experiencing the bitter side of the journey.

Your feelings for your boyfriend William Nylander remained steadfast regardless, yet the strain on your relationship was becoming palpable.

Describing the final weeks of March as tough felt like an understatement; victories against the Oilers followed by losses to the Hurricanes and the Devils, then another win against the Capitals and the Sabres. It was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone involved.

And after each game, you did your utmost to either console William or provide him with unwavering support. But it wasn't always a straightforward task.

While William typically kept his emotions in check in public, behind closed doors, he was gradually becoming more open. The topic was somewhat delicate, with several small discussions sparked by his seemingly too calm demeanour, yet you encouraged him to let it out.

As you'd discuss the games on your way home, he'd often brush it off, insisting that everything was fine, and they simply needed to perform better next time. And he wasn't entirely wrong. It was perhaps the healthiest mindset to maintain mental stability. Yet, beneath the surface, you sensed there was more to the story, something simmering beneath his composed exterior.

But when William avoided delving deeper into the matter, you decided it was best to table it, at least for the time being.

As April began, the stakes grew higher than ever. The Toronto Maple Leafs teetered on the edge of playoffs, demanding undivided attention to games and training. Consequently, you found yourself inadvertently assuming the role of a housewife, managing grocery runs, meal preparation, and dog-walking duties, especially when William's trainer couldn't spare the time. And balancing your own work responsibilities with being a supportive hockey girlfriend was gradually becoming overwhelming.

Just weeks ago, amidst some wonderful moments shared with William, discussions ventured into territories like finances and the integration of your lives, leading you to make the decision to give up your apartment and fully commit to living with him.

However, as tensions simmered within the walls of your spacious condo, each evening seemingly hotter with unresolved arguments, you reached a breaking point. So you opted to spend a few days at your own place. It wasn't about avoiding William but rather acknowledging the toll these conflicts were taking on you, and recognising you needed a breather before it got too tense.

You knew the conversations weren't too bad, at least not as per what some of the other girlfriends and wives had shared with you. It was simply around this time of year when the players tend to turn everything into a debate at home. Yet it felt as if the world would come crashing down if you kept it going.

It would typically start with you attempting to console William, and then it’d escalate.

"Come on, Willy, just talk to me – that's what I'm here for,” you spoke firmly.

"There's nothing to talk about. Just leave it, y/n,” he avoided your attempt for a conversation.

"Look, it's obviously bothering you – I can sense it..."

"Oh, so now you can feel what I feel? Great talent there, y/n..." William almost snorted.

"That's not fair, Willy... All I want is to try and help..."

"But there's nothing you can do to help! It is what it is."

"Stop saying that! All I want is to support you – there's no need for you to be a dick about it!"

"Well, that's just how it is! You knew that when you got into a relationship with me..."

"Yes! I knew this would be a challenging time, and I was prepared for it – but you also knew you were getting into a relationship, so now you have to accept that you're not alone in this anymore. I'm here to support you, William Nylander, whether you like it or not!"

And with that, the discussion came to a close. It was a delicate balance, wanting to show support while giving William the space he needed. Meanwhile, he needed to understand that you would always be there for him, ready to lend a listening ear, and he couldn't simply push you away when he didn't want to confront his emotions.

So, after a few trial-and-error attempts, you somewhat figured it out.

Yet, stepping into your familiar home brought a sense of relief. Within your own walls, away from the chaos of hockey and media scrutiny, and the unanswerable questions at work about the team's performance, you found tranquillity.

Being apart from your boyfriend for a few days, even though you were in the same city, wasn't easy. But it felt necessary.

And for William, it did provide some focus on his training and the upcoming match against the Canadiens.Deep down, he understood that you weren't trying to leave him, though a part of him feared it. He recognised that you needed time and space, just as he often did, to concentrate on matters beyond the minor disputes at home.

And as the Leafs returned from Montreal, having officially secured their place in the playoffs, it felt like things were returning to normal. Back in your shared home, wrapped in each other's arms, it was pure celebration. You were practically inseparable upon his return, elated from the victory.

Sunday was solely dedicated to celebration, and in his role as a gracious host and teammate, Mitch had extended an invitation to the team for dinner at his restaurant. It was meant to be a relaxed evening, bearing in mind the upcoming game against the Penguins the following day, and with the tense and challenging times ahead, everyone saw it as an opportunity to enjoy some calm before the storm.

However, as you moved about the condo, getting ready for the evening proved to be a bit of a challenge.

"Willy," you giggled as you struggled to put on your outfit, standing in the walk-in closet wearing nothing but your underwear. "You really need to let go so I can finish up."

"Hmm," he hummed as he embraced you, burying his face in your neck and planting kisses while his hands wandered over your body, eventually settling on his favourite spot: your ass. "But then you'll just put on clothes... and I prefer you without..." he teased, pulling back to meet your gaze with a mischievous grin.

"Well, I'm sorry, but that would be highly inappropriate for a restaurant outing," you chuckled as you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body lightly against his.

"Or... maybe we skip the dinner... and just stay in here, where we can both be naked," he suggested seductively, and you couldn't help but smile and shake your head gently.

"You can be such a brat sometimes – this is your team, Willy, and we both know you'd love to be with them for dinner," you reasoned with a playful glint in your eye. While the idea of staying home, naked and cuddled up with William was tempting, you also recognised the importance of gatherings like tonight's.

"Hmm," William merely hummed. "I suppose I'll have to... maybe then, try and persuade you."

William's chuckle was nothing short of cheeky and seductive, and you couldn't help but emit a squeak as he hoisted you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom where he playfully tossed you onto the mattress. It was a typical Nylander move, and once he had that dark look in his eyes, there was no stopping him from giving in to the sexual tension, from feeling him inside you as he elicited cries and moans from your lips.

And tonight, even before dinner, was no exception.

As William captured your lips with his, you were immediately drawn into his touch, completely captivated as his tongue danced with yours. Your lips moved in sync, your hands clutching his blonde locks tightly as his body pressed against yours, igniting a hunger and intensity filled with raw lust and desire. And before long, he freed his already hard member from his boxers, discarding your lacy underwear in the process.

You knew this wouldn't be one of those drawn-out sessions where William took his time eating you out, ensuring you reached climax multiple times before satisfying himself. Instead, it was a quick, eager, and playful encounter, where you started out by stroking his shaft, eliciting moans from him, while he moistened two fingers with saliva and inserted them into your core.

The kisses were fervent, occasionally interrupted by moans and heavy breaths. Hands explored each other's bodies, drawing each other closer until William abruptly pulled away. And in one swift motion, he turned you around, knelt behind you, lifted your ass, and entered you.

"Fuck yes..." he groaned deeply as he effortlessly filled you, hitting all the right spots with ease.

"Mmm, yes, Willy..." you moaned in tandem with his deep sounds, quickly succumbing to primal passion. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, while William's hands firmly grasped your hips as he thrust into your warmth. It was far from romantic; it was raw, unbridled passion as William intensified his pace, his hips colliding with yours, his heavy breaths mingling with your loud cries.

William was simply overcome with desire for your body, but knowing he wasn't one to climax too quickly, he also knew he had to exert force to prevent the encounter from dragging on.

And caught in the heat of the moment, he couldn't restrain his actions. His thrusts were powerful and unrelenting, his hand finding your long hair and gripping it tightly as he increased his speed.

"Fuck... Willy!" you cried out as he piston deeper and faster with each thrust. Pleasure surged through you, tears threatening to spill from the sheer intensity as your body surrendered to his forceful advances. Your core clenched around his relentless shaft, your walls overstimulated, and your cunt dripping with every movement. "Shiii- Willy... Oh god, I'm gonn—"

You couldn't even form coherent words as he pulled your head back, intensifying his movements even further. And you were certain his thrusts would leave a mark on your skin, yet in that moment, you couldn't care less.

William's actions were so fierce and dominant that you had to close your eyes and surrender to him completely. Your body belonged to him, and you had no desire to challenge his power. Instead, you allowed ecstasy to consume you entirely, your moans growing louder and louder as your orgasm surged through your body, mind, and soul, causing you to scream his name for all to hear.

"Fuck, yes... that's my good girl," William praised, maintaining his movements as he felt his own climax nearing. "I fucking love this ass..." And with a swift motion, he let go of your hip to deliver a firm smack to your cheek.

Your wet core seemed tailor-made for his cock as he pounded into you with incredible force, his shaft drenched as it slid in and out of you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room. With each thrust, he increased his speed, pushing himself closer to the edge, and his deep grunts filled the air as he shut his eyes and moaned deeply, releasing himself into your depths.

The experience was nothing short of amazing and intense. It took a few minutes for both of you to catch your breath and regain your strength before slowly disentangling yourselves from the position. No words were necessary. Your core was sore and tingling, coated with William's release as he withdrew, yet your mind was in a blissful state, completely consumed by the rush.

And William couldn't help but admire his handiwork as he noticed the slight redness on your skin from his actions. With a playful grin spreading across his lips, he gently caressed your cheek before placing a tender kiss on it.

"Fucking love this ass," he repeated, this time softer and filled with desire, causing you to look back at him with a chuckle.

"You're a real problem, Nylander..."

"What do you mean?" he chuckled darkly.

"Look what you've done. Now we both have to shower again and get dressed, meaning we'll be late for dinner..."

It was a familiar scenario. William was notorious on the team for always being late, and for the past four months, you had been one of the main reasons for that. Your sex life had always been adventurous, but it was the spontaneity that made it even more fun. And William made no effort to hide it from anyone.

"Well, then we better get moving," he simply chuckled before getting off the bed with a wide grin.

"Finally, you guys decided to show up!" Auston exclaimed as you entered, everyone already seated.

"Still running late, Willy," Mitch chimed in with a chuckle.

"Yeah, but I bet it's not entirely his fault this time," Järnkrok added with a grin and a wink, causing you to blush slightly as you couldn't deny the truth. Yet, you were quick with a retort.

"Well, at least he's getting some action, unlike some others," you said with a cocky smile, eliciting loud 'oooohhhh's from the players, with William laughing loudly beside you.

And the evening unfolded beautifully, as always. Mitch and Stephanie were excellent hosts, and the upscale restaurant buzzed with nothing but laughter and conversations. The delicious food delighted your taste buds, and the atmosphere was overall filled with joy.

And as everyone anticipated the approaching game, it was evident that everyone needed this evening to unwind and simply enjoy each other's company. Yet, one small detail disrupted your comfort.

"Hey, are you okay?" William whispered as he noticed your slight movements in your seat.

"Hmm," you simply nodded before leaning closer to him. "Though... I'm a little sore, Willy," you whispered, unable to suppress a chuckle.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, flashing a satisfied smirk that earned an eye-roll from you.

"Yeah... you were a bit rough, mister," you smiled.

"Hmm, thought you liked it when I'm rough," he grinned, a statement you couldn't really refute. A significant part of your sex life often involved dominant and submissive play, and truth be told you had no complaints.

"Hmm, maybe I do," you softly admitted. "It's just... not easy to sit when your lady parts have been pounded like that..."

Biting his lower lip, William couldn't resist voicing his naughty thoughts. "Well, then I suppose we'll just have to keep practicing until you get used to it."

Even among close friends and their families, the two of you couldn't control your banter. However, as the night progressed, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

After the third course, you joined a few of the ladies in the bathroom, engaging in heartfelt conversations and sharing experiences from the past few weeks.

"Don't worry, y/n," Aryne spoke sweetly. "It's just the playoffs weighing on him. William will be back to his usual self in no time – it just requires a bit more patience from our side this time of year." The other girls nodded in agreement.

Their words were comforting and reassuring. Being your first time dating a professional athlete, you needed their encouragement and support. And after all, most of them had dealt with their husbands and boyfriends throughout their careers.

"How about a drink?" Tessa then suggested with a smile, earning enthusiastic agreement from the group, including you.

And as you all headed to the bar for drinks, any worries seemed to fade away. Amidst laughter and playful jokes about how the ladies needed drinks to cope with their men, you felt completely at ease and comfortable.

That was, until you suddenly felt someone's gaze on you. And it wasn't your boyfriend's.

A few feet away, a rather handsome man was looking in your direction. Though he could have been staring at any woman in the group, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you turned your head and met his eyes, and he offered you a smile. It wasn't overly direct or forward; just a man trying to flirt with a woman from across the room.

However, almost instinctively, while trying not to consciously reciprocate the flirting, you soon felt a pair of hands on you. And this time, it was your boyfriend's.

He didn't say a word. William's hand simply found its way to your ass, where it belonged, as he stood close to you, flashing you a sweet smile before planting a kiss on your cheek. You didn't even have to look to know that he was eyeing the man who had been attempting to flirt with you, sending him a clear message with a look that said, 'she's mine,' while discreetly giving your cheek a gentle squeeze.

And you couldn't deny how good it made you feel. Knowing that William was boldly asserting your relationship status to the world had you feeling captivated. Especially since you were aware of the numerous girls who longed to be with him, fantasising about your breakup so they could swoop in. But William didn't hide the fact that he was taken, and that made you smile.

Yet, a small part of you felt the temptation to play with fire.

"Feeling a little jealous, are we?" you chuckled lightly as you sipped your drink, William's hand still firmly on your cheek, while more people joined the group at the bar.

"Mmm, he wants what's mine, and I don't like that," William huskily whispered under his breath.

"Yours? Willy, I'm not anyone's property," you raised an eyebrow, but he simply chuckled darkly.

"Yes, you are," he smirked. "It's part of the deal of being with me. I give you a place to stay, and in return, this belongs to me."

His words ignited another arousal within you, despite having just experienced a wonderful orgasm a few hours earlier.

"Oh, so that's how you see it? Hmm, then maybe I should reconsider giving up my apartment," you challenged him, and it seemed to awaken something primal within your boyfriend.

"No - you can't back out now. I've claimed your ass, and now you're mine."

There was a silent exchange of glances as the intensity of the moment lingered, William's hand remaining firmly in place. However, when Mitch announced the arrival of the next course, you both silently agreed to set aside your playful banter for the time being.

It was all fun and games between you and William. Well, most of the time at least.

He'd assert his possessiveness over you, you'd playfully challenge him, and then he'd assert his dominance in a sexual manner, reminding you that you did, in fact, belong to him. However, as Monday rolled around and it was time for the Leafs to face off against the Penguins, the dynamics seemed to shift.

The game was nothing short of exhilarating, but it was almost too intense for your liking. After Pittsburgh scored the first goal in the opening period, Kniesy retaliated in the second, followed by Auston putting the Leafs in the lead in the third. But just when victory seemed within reach, the Penguins fought back, forcing the game into overtime. Fortunately, McCabe saved the day, securing a 3-2 victory for the Leafs on home turf, boosting their confidence before their upcoming trip to New Jersey.

But despite the win, a slight unease lingered within you as you prepared to meet your boyfriend in the hallways after the match. Normally, you prided yourself on not being the jealous type of girlfriend who felt insecure when her boyfriend talked to other girls. However, there was something about this particular girl that set your mind spinning.

She was undeniably stunning, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling as her brown hair cascaded gracefully down her back. And seeing her laughing and chatting with William sparked a small wave of guilt within you.

Nevertheless, you maintained your composure. Slowly, you approached your laughing boyfriend and gently wrapped your arms around his sturdy frame.

"Oh, hey babe," he chuckled, still engrossed in his conversation with the beautiful girl, only briefly acknowledging your presence.

"What's so funny?" you smiled, trying to join in on the conversation.

"I was just telling Willy here about some of the comments people have left on his Rogers' commercial," the girl explained with a sweet tone and smile. "They're just hilarious."

And William continued to laugh, his signature laughter filling the hallway.

"Oh yeah, those were indeed funny," you tried to laugh along, though the amusement quickly faded.

"Anyway, I better get going," the brunette smiled before bidding farewell to William.

There was a moment of silence as William's laughter subsided and he turned to face you.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"What what?" you replied, feigning ignorance of the fact that he had caught on to your jealousy.

"You know what... you're being jealous," he pointed out with a smirk.

"Well, of course I am," you retorted, your voice firm as you gently crossed your arms over your chest. "My boyfriend's chatting with a gorgeous girl after a win, smiling like he's a teenager seeing boobs for the first time, and acting as if I didn't notice."

"Oh, come on, she's just a journalist, babe," William chuckled nonchalantly.

"Well then why isn't she asking you questions along with the other journalists over there?" you pointed to the station where players usually gave their post-game statements.

"She just came up to me and asked me if..." he trailed off, stopping himself before he dug himself deeper.

"Asking you what?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing..." he tried to brush it off, but he knew it was futile.

"Well, if it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" Your voice softened, tinged with vulnerability as you were reminded of other girls who were interested in your boyfriend.

And letting out a deep sigh, William knew honesty was the best policy. "She asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee together..."

"Oh..." you paused for a moment. "And you said yes?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, it doesn't mean anything - she's just doing her job," he chuckled lightly.

"Right... her job... so that means she's also getting coffee with all the other players?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Um... no, I don't think so... but that's because she was there when I did the commercial thing... and she's just... I don't know, catching up, I guess."

You tried your best not to let your frustration show, but William was already aware of your feelings.

"Hey, babe, it's not like she's making any moves - I mean, she's a journalist, she knows I have a girlfriend..." he flashed you a confident smile, and though you didn't trust the journalist's intentions, you trusted your boyfriend.

Just as you expected him to trust you despite other men hitting on you.

So, you let it go and simply let out a calm sigh. "Right, how about we go home then, and I'll remind you just how much I love this relationship," you smirked up at him, gently wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"Mmm, I don't think I can say no to that," William chuckled, before bidding goodbye to the others and leaving.

You already started the foreplay in the car, teasing his thigh higher and higher until you were close to his groin. Then, in the lift, he couldn't resist, eagerly kissing you as he pressed you against the wall. So, when you entered the condo, you took charge, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket, flashing him a lustful smirk as you pulled him towards the bedroom.

William didn't resist; he enjoyed your attempt at dominance. But as soon as you were both in nothing but underwear, he reclaimed his dominant role.

And of course, there was no other way for you to express your desire for your boyfriend than by kneeling in front of him in your fine underwear, opening your mouth as your eyes pleaded for him to feed you with his hard cock.

With you kneeling before him, eager to take him deep into your throat, William felt like he was in heaven. Your warm mouth worked wonders around his throbbing cock, and the small gagging sounds you made whenever he pushed a little too far only added to his pleasure.

You were his submissive, and your sole desire was to please him.

"Mmm, baby, you're so good," he hummed under his breath as you continued to bob your head, focused solely on breathing through your nose as you took him deeper and deeper. Occasionally, you glanced up at him through your lashes, watching as his muscles tensed under your hand, which you used for support while the other stroked his length where your mouth couldn't reach.

But as you pressed yourself further, your nose hitting the pubic hair of his crotch, and you gagged around him, saliva drooling from the corner of your mouth and trailing down your chin, William found it incredibly arousing. He held significant power over you, and the sight thrilled him.

However, as he felt his climax approaching, he knew he wasn't ready to finish just yet. So, instead, he withdrew himself from your wonderful mouth.

"Such a good girl…" he praised softly, before gently guiding you to the bed. But as you moved towards the mattress, you signalled your desire to be on top, and William happily granted your wish.

After removing your underwear, he lay down on his back, and you couldn't help but smile as you straddled his hips. He was already dripping with precum, mixed with your saliva, and your arousal was evident, making it effortless for you to sink down onto his cock and let him fill you up.

"Oh yes, Willy," you moaned as his thick member stretched your entrance, stimulating your walls with every inch.

"Mmm, baby, you feel so good around me," he moaned in harmony, his hands instinctively gripping your hips.

And as your bodies connected, you began to sway your hips, rocking back and forth in sensual motions, your hands finding support on his chest. With each movement, allowing his hardness to glide in and out of your wet core, your moans grew louder. Pleasure rushed through your body, and you increased your pace, your breaths heavy and your mind consumed by sensation.

Then as the intensity grew, your bodies became sweatier and hotter, your vision blurring with each thrust. Addicted to the pleasure, you increased your speed once again, seeking that euphoric high.

"Mmm… shit, Willy," you moaned in a soft cry, your hips moving desperately as your thighs pressed against the man beneath you.

"Yes, älskling… you're such a good girl," William muttered. "Fucking ride me, baby… fucking cum on my dick…"

In the heat of the moment, his words worked like a magic spell, and with a forceful motion, you panted and gasped for air as you reached climax.

You even had to pause your movements, filling your lungs with air as you shut your eyes and cried out his name in pleasure. Your tight muscles pulsed around his shaft as you calmed from the high of your orgasm, your legs trembling from the intensity.

And as you slowly came down from the euphoric state, William sat up, gently pushing his cock a little deeper inside you as he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a messy kiss.

"Hmm, fucking love it when you make yourself cum on me," he spoke huskily under his breath, and with a smirk adorning your sweaty face, you then started to slowly move your hips again, rocking gently as you kissed his bearded chin and neck, occasionally biting down with your teeth before pulling back.

The room was hot and steamy, and as he felt your cunt pulsating around his member, he felt the need for his own release stirring. So, taking a firm hold of your body, William then turned you both over and pushed your back into the mattress.

In one swift movement, he seized your hands and held them above your head as he began to thrust into you, while your legs instinctively wrapped around his lower body, heels pressing into his skin as you surrendered to his actions. His movements were powerful, yet this time, he attempted to maintain a sense of romance as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, allowing him to thrust mercilessly and deeply, pushing you to the edge of overstimulation as he approached his climax. William's grip on your wrists was strong, and as he pounded even faster, you knew he was nearing completion.

"Oh, yes, Willy, cum for me…" you moaned loudly, gasping for breath as you became undone for him.

"Yeah... baby, I'm so close..." he breathed heavily in response. So, with a few more intense thrusts, William withdrew abruptly, knelt back, and ejaculated onto your lower stomach with a deep grunt. "God...," he moaned huskily as he reached a more intense climax than expected, his sticky white cum covering your skin like a canvas.

It was messy, yet incredibly arousing. Your body still trembled as you recovered from the intense sex, and your legs shook as you gradually regained strength. Meanwhile, William caught his breath, admiring his handiwork.

Your body was undeniably stunning, but what he admired most was how well he knew it and how effortlessly he could please you, eliciting loud moans and squirms with his touch.

And as the two of you gradually returned to reality, smiles graced your faces, unable to contain the sense of satisfaction. Additionally, William naturally assisted in tidying up the aftermath by leading you to the bathroom, where he tenderly and leisurely washed your bodies with lukewarm water cascading over the two of you, sharing deep kisses and reaffirming the connection that had united you from the outset. It was the bond that held you together through the peaks and valleys, through all the challenges you encountered as a couple.

As morning broke and William's alarm shattered your peaceful sleep, you couldn't help but smile as you turned to see his serene expression, while William, true to form, didn't immediately wake from the alarm; he was a dedicated snoozer. Yet, what always brought him to full consciousness was your kiss. You ran your fingers gently through his hair, planting soft kisses all over his handsome face until he slowly opened his eyes.

"God morgon, prinsessa," William murmured huskily, still half-asleep.

"God morgon, min prins," you smiled in return.

Despite the early hour, it was a cosy morning, with the passionate warmth from the night before still lingering between you. Any lingering traces of jealousy were overshadowed by the depth of your relationship, dispelling any intrusive negative thoughts.

As you exchanged lazy morning kisses, William's embrace tightened around you, drawing you closer to his body, the warmth emanating from him as you felt his morning hardness pressing against you. And with a smile of your own, you summoned the strength to position yourself on top of him.

William sat up straight, his bare chest pressed against your breasts as he drew you even nearer, deepening the kiss. However, you pulled back slightly, biting your lower lip before licking them seductively, trailing your fingers along his neck where you admired the faint marks from the night before.

Yet, not entirely satisfied with your handiwork, you returned your lips to his skin, your fingers tangling in his hair as he leaned back against the headboard. Despite the early hour, William could already feel himself responding to your touch, the anticipation of being apart from you again igniting a primal craving.

And his desperate groans only spurred you to bite down harder as you allowed your hips to gently grind against his lap. Your heart rate quickened, breaths becoming shallow, while William's body tensed, releasing a loud moan. Then pulling away from his flushed skin, you felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"Hmm," William muttered. "Leaving your mark, are you?" he chuckled mischievously, earning a light nod from you.

"Can't have you walking around without people knowing you have a girlfriend, can we?" you spoke seductively, your fingers delicately tracing the marks you skilfully created.

"And why's that?" William grinned, rhetorically acknowledging the possessiveness stirring within you, mirroring his own.

"Well, maybe there's going to be another journalist trying to grab coffee with you…" you playfully smiled.

"Hmm, yeah, we can't have that, can we," William chuckled, merely acknowledging the playful banter.

There was a brief moment of silence as you both admired each other in the soft morning light, knowing you would only be apart for the day, sharing a tender kiss.

"So," you spoke, pulling away with a pout on your lips, "Are you going to try and hide them?"

But William simply shook his head, a mischievous smile on his face as he gently rubbed his index finger across your lower lip. "No way," he said, his voice a low whisper. "I'm going to show them off."

It was a simple moment, yet it emphasised the possessiveness you both held for each other. Though you trusted each other implicitly, there were still lingering worries in the back of your minds.

You always harboured a nervousness that William might grow bored of you, drawn instead to the other incredibly beautiful women who seemed to appear in his life. Meanwhile, William feared that you might tire of his lifestyle and one day simply decide to leave in pursuit of a more conventional life.

Yet, neither of you had any intentions of parting ways.

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