#Home - Garden my new fed
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miesozernacma · 10 months ago
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the way sharing a home with no real corridors, with not a single room Just For You, where you can sit in all day without SOMEONE coming in, will litterally drive you to insanity
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virelia · 1 month ago
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Promises of the Seven
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ੈ✩ pairing: Brothers x Reader
ੈ✩ summary: With the new Obey Me! game where MC and the brothers are married, these headcanons imagine how each of them might have proposed. From flashy and bold to quiet and sweet, these scenarios show their personalities and the love behind their proposals — just a fun way to picture those special moments before “I do.”
ੈ✩ wc: 4.1k
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“When Pride Chose to Kneel” [Lucifer]
A king without a crown, baring devotion in the language only the fallen understand. For once, not duty — but desire.
Lucifer would never propose on a whim. Every moment of his confession would be deliberate — a blend of ancient tradition and personal meaning. He’s waited too long, lived too long, and finally loved too deeply to treat this lightly. The proposal would be steeped in Devildom lore and royal elegance, but its heartbeat would be entirely human: his vulnerability.
Lucifer doesn't announce his feelings with fireworks. Instead, he whispers them through detail — a rare midnight bloom that only opens when fed by truth, a ring forged from obsidian mined from the same cavern as Diavolo’s crown, and music composed over centuries that tells the story of his love in every note. He doesn’t propose as a demon or an avatar — he proposes as a man who has finally found a reason to let down his guard.
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You’d known something was coming — Lucifer had been quiet lately, but not in his usual cold, aloof way. This was different. He looked at you longer. His touch lingered. And once, you’d caught him staring at the sky with a softness in his eyes that scared you. As if he’d made a decision he could never go back from. Tonight, he led you to the royal gardens at the top of the castle. Not the public one where nobles drank demon wine and whispered gossip — this one was sacred, tucked away beyond enchanted gates that only opened for blood and vow. You felt the magic curl around your skin as you entered, the air thick with ancient energy. The sky stretched wide above, dark and endless, and beneath it, the garden bloomed in silence. Midnight flowers — Nocturnis Lux, they were called — shimmered under the moonlight. Lucifer once told you they only bloomed when someone spoke their deepest truth. Now, they opened in waves around you. A string quartet played nearby, hidden behind a curtain of ivy and illusion. The music was haunting — slow, melancholic, composed in a minor key. You didn’t recognize it until halfway through the melody. It was his. You remembered the pages he'd once tucked away in his study, scribbled with passion and pain. He had turned your story into a symphony. Lucifer said nothing at first. He walked beside you, gloved hands clasped behind his back, face unreadable. When he finally stopped, it was beside an obsidian pedestal glowing faintly with enchanted fire — the kind used only for royal rites. He turned to face you, and his expression shifted. The mask cracked. “I had this ring forged from the same obsidian Diavolo’s crown was born from,” he said quietly, slipping the glove from his hand. “It’s imbued with an oath spell — not because I need it to mean something… but because I need you to know that it means everything.” He lowered himself to one knee — not in submission, not in performance, but in honor. His wings shimmered faintly behind him, half-unfurled, as if caught between instinct and emotion. “I once thought eternity was enough,” he said, voice raw. “That pride would sustain me. That duty would fulfill me. But then you came, and I realized… eternity means nothing without someone to make it feel like home.” He opened the ring box. It sparkled like starlight trapped in volcanic stone — elegant, dark, timeless. “I am Lucifer, First of the Fallen. I have rebelled, ruled, and been broken more times than I’ll ever admit. But tonight, I offer you the only part of myself I’ve never given away. My heart. My future. My eternity. Will you marry me, MC?” You didn’t speak at first — you couldn’t. Tears blurred your vision, but you nodded, stepping forward and taking his hand. It trembled. “Yes,” you whispered. The garden responded — flowers blooming wildly around your feet, music rising into crescendo. Lucifer stood, cradled your cheek with his bare hand, and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your lips — reverent, slow, full of every vow he didn’t need words for. In that moment, pride ceased to be a sin. It became devotion.
“Worth More Than Gold” [Mammon]
The selfish devil who never believed he deserved love — until you showed him what treasure really means.
Mammon’s proposal is chaotic in theory, but pure heart in execution. He doesn't plan it like Lucifer, nor calculate it like Satan. For him, the idea takes root during a random moment — probably while watching you laugh at one of his dumb jokes or defend him when no one else does. That’s when he realizes: he could spend eternity proving he’s worthy of you. When Mammon proposes, it’s not about grandeur. It’s about truth. Raw, unfiltered, trembling truth. The ring may not be enchanted or royal, but it’s real. Bought with savings he never touched, chosen not for cost but for meaning. He’d risk everything — his pride, his fear of rejection, his future — just to ask the question. Because for once, he’s not gambling for riches. He’s betting everything on love.
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It started like any other ridiculous Mammon plan. He told you to dress up — not fancy, just warm — and meet him outside Devildom’s old carnival grounds at sunset. You expected a half-baked scheme involving cursed games or rare demon snacks. What you didn’t expect was this: The lights of the long-abandoned fairground flickered to life the moment you stepped through the gate. Strings of golden lanterns lit the cobblestone paths. The once-broken Ferris wheel creaked to motion, restored by magic that felt distinctly Mammon-esque — patchy but passionate. “I… uh, borrowed some spell cards,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck when you turned to look at him. “Don’t worry, I returned ‘em. Mostly.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes. Just grabbed your hand like it was the last lifeline he had and pulled you toward the center of the grounds. There, he’d set up a table — crooked, with uneven legs, but decorated with your favorite snacks, old photos of you both, and a little plush version of Goldie wearing a bowtie. “I know it ain't perfect,” he said quickly. “It’s not like Luce’s royal garden or nothin’. But it’s mine. Every light you see? I fixed it. Every charm holding this place together? I cast it. And I did it all for this one thing.” You blinked, stunned. Mammon — who once panicked when you complimented his cooking — was shaking. “I ain’t good with words, okay? I mess stuff up. I run when I’m scared. But not this time. Not with you.” He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a tiny black box. It wasn’t velvet, but it had a tiny golden sticker of a crow on it. Inside was a ring — silver, engraved with a tiny star and your initials. “I ain’t proposin’ ‘cause I think I’m good enough for ya,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m proposin’ ‘cause I wanna try for the rest of my damn life to be.” He dropped to one knee, fumbling the box a little. You heard a whisper from the shadows — probably Beel and Levi, hiding badly. Mammon didn’t notice. His eyes were locked on yours, wild and terrified and beautiful. “MC… Will you marry me?” You knelt down too, cupping his face in your hands. He flinched like he didn’t deserve it, but you kissed him anyway — slow, sure, grounding. “Yes,” you said. “You already won the bet, Mammon. I’m yours.” And behind you, the Ferris wheel lights shimmered into a heart-shaped glow.
“In Pixels and Promises” [Leviathan]
The shut-in demon who found his greatest adventure in loving you — beyond screens, beyond worlds.
Leviathan doesn’t believe he’s the kind of person someone proposes to, let alone the one who gets to propose. Love, to him, was always behind a screen — safe in fiction, predictable in games. But falling for you was a glitch in his system, a patch he never wanted to fix.
He plans the proposal like he’s crafting the perfect final boss sequence — every line of code, every moment, balanced between awe and intimacy. His biggest fear isn’t rejection — it’s you not realizing how serious this is. That you might think this is just another one of his fantasies.
So he crafts a digital world for you — one only you two can enter. A realm coded with memories, quests reflecting your journey together, and at its center, the truth he’s never been able to say out loud without a screen between him and the world: you’ve changed him. You’ve made him believe he’s worthy of love, not as an avatar, but as Levi — awkward, obsessive, vulnerable.
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He invited you to his room one night, sheepishly texting ahead: "come over pls. new game. v. limited release. u get to beta test lol." You expected a fun co-op adventure. Maybe a dungeon crawler or another otome parody. What you didn’t expect was the way the lights dimmed the second you entered, or how the screen pulsed with ethereal code in violet and gold — his colors. The title screen shimmered: "Player Two: The Game I Can’t Play Without You" "Okay, okay, I know it sounds cringe!" he said immediately, pacing like a trapped sea serpent. "But just — just try it! Please? I worked on this for, like… forever. I even stayed up three nights in a row and drank real coffee. Beel was worried." You took the controller, and the screen dissolved into pixels and stars. The game opened on a digital version of his aquarium, but more surreal — like you’d been submerged in a dream. 8-bit coral glowed. Fish with tiny anime faces swam by, and every level represented a piece of your time together: The first time he let you touch his figurines. That Deviltendo competition you both entered. The night he cried when you said you liked him just the way he was. And then… the final level. A throne room beneath the ocean, lit by moonlight through rippling water. At the center: a lone character — Levi’s avatar, cloak shimmering, holding something small in his pixelated hand. A text box appeared: “I never thought I’d get a second player.” “I always thought I’d be a background character.” “But then you came.” The avatar kneeled. “MC. Will you… stay in my party forever?” The game paused. Then Levi’s hand touched yours — real, trembling. He was holding something. Not a pixel sprite. A real box. Inside was a ring — ocean-blue gem, set in silver that looked like rippling waves. The design was unmistakably his — subtly anime, undeniably heartfelt. "I know I’m not a real hero," he said, barely above a whisper. "I’m not suave like Asmo or noble like Lucifer. But I’ll level up for you. Every day. I’ll protect you. I’ll— I’ll love you until my HP hits zero." Your voice caught in your throat. You pressed your forehead to his. "Yes," you breathed. "I want to be your Player Two. Forever." He blinked fast — once, twice — then let out a laugh that was half-sob, half-joy. And behind you, the screen exploded into golden fireworks and a new achievement badge: “♥ TRUE ENDING UNLOCKED ♥”
"A Quiet Flame for You" [Satan]
Behind his scholarly calm burns a fierce devotion — a love whispered between pages and shadows.
Satan’s proposal is a rebellion — not against rules or Lucifer this time, but against every lie he once believed about himself. That he was only anger. That love was too volatile, too human, too fragile. But loving you? It was the first time he didn’t feel like a vessel for wrath. He felt like a man.
He doesn’t stage his proposal like a dramatic scene — he curates it, like a rare book. Every element steeped in meaning. The location? A hidden sanctuary where ancient knowledge and rare magic converge. The ring? Forged from the metal of a fallen star once written about in a forbidden grimoire — beauty born of what once threatened to destroy.
Satan doesn’t declare love in loud ways. He proves it — in well-thumbed poetry, in books annotated just for you, in spells that keep nightmares away. When he proposes, it’s not the anger in him that trembles — it’s the part that hopes.
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It wasn’t a place most people knew. Tucked behind a shifting wall of the oldest library in the Devildom, there was a room sealed by a spell written in forgotten tongues. You once asked if it was real. He only smiled. Tonight, he brought you there. Satan walked ahead of you, fingers tracing the ridges of the wall until the enchantment responded — books shifting, bricks rearranging, like the building itself bowed to his will. With a low rumble, the entrance appeared. “Only opens for truth,” he said softly, stepping aside for you to enter first. The room was unlike anything you’d seen. High ceilings arched above, lined with floating shelves and glowing glyphs. Books hovered like stars in low orbit, their pages whispering softly as if exhaling secrets. And in the center, a circle of warm light, enclosing two chairs and a table set with tea… and a single book, wrapped in velvet. “I wrote this,” he murmured, voice oddly fragile. “It’s not a grimoire or a spellbook. It’s… our story.” He handed it to you, and as you opened it, you realized — each chapter detailed your moments together. Your laughter, your arguments, your silences. Your impact. The final chapter was unwritten. Just a title: “The Beginning of Always.” When you looked up, he was already kneeling. His eyes, usually so sharp and controlled, were full of raw light. “I’ve studied love,” he said, fingers curled around a small box. “I’ve dissected it in literature, tracked it in history, even tried to summon it. But nothing — nothing — prepared me for you.” He opened the box. The ring inside pulsed with a soft, celestial glow. Not flashy. Timeless. “I am not perfect. I still burn. But you…” His voice broke, and he swallowed. “You make the fire something holy.” He lowered his head, golden hair falling forward. “Will you marry me, MC? Will you help me write a life worth living?” The tears in your eyes blurred everything — the books, the walls, even the stars. But his face was clear. Honest. Yours. “Yes,” you whispered. The glyphs around you flared to life — not in warning, but in celebration. Books rustled like applause. And as you embraced him, Satan exhaled against your neck. “For the first time,” he said quietly, “I’m glad I exist.”
“The Heart Beneath the Glitter” [Asmodeus]
When the world only sees a mask of charm, he dares to show the fragile truth beneath — and finds love that stays.
To the world, Asmodeus is temptation incarnate — the Avatar of Lust, always smiling, always admired, always wanted. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t want to be adored. He wants to be chosen — not for his beauty or his charm, but for who he is beneath the sparkle: the loneliness, the hunger, the soft, scared heart that learned to seduce before it could speak its own needs.
Asmo’s proposal is neither grand nor scandalous. It is sacred — a vow not of possession, but of devotion. He crafts a moment where all masks fall away. No performance. No glitter. Just him. And you. And the unbearable, beautiful truth that he has never loved like this before.
When he proposes, it’s not the Avatar of Lust asking for your hand. It’s the boy who once fell from heaven, craving love in every mirror. And for the first time, he sees his reflection in your eyes — and finds it worthy.
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The invitation came in pink parchment, sealed with a kiss. Typical Asmo, you thought — until you opened it. “Meet me where we first danced. Midnight. Wear something that makes you feel like your favorite self.” The ballroom was abandoned, long since closed off for repairs. But when you arrived, the door opened for you as if pulled by invisible hands. Candlelight flickered within — soft, golden, warm. He was already there. Not in sequins. Not in silk. Just a simple black suit, his curls loose, his face untouched by glamour. No spell shimmered on his skin. No perfume clung to the air. He was radiant anyway. “You came,” he said, smiling gently. “Even after everything, you still choose me.” You reached for him, but he took your hand instead and pulled you toward the center of the floor. There was no music, yet your bodies swayed — a slow, silent dance in a world reduced to candlelight and breath. “I’ve had lovers,” he whispered into your ear. “Fans. Followers. But they all wanted the idea of me. The fantasy. You… you saw me. Even when I was ugly. Even when I cried. Even when I tried to push you away so you wouldn't see how much I needed you.” He spun you gently, then guided you to a tall, full-length mirror propped at the far end of the ballroom. You stared at your reflection — and gasped. It wasn’t enchanted. But somehow, it showed something more: every moment you’d shared with him flickered through its surface like memories — laughter, tears, kisses. The time he held your hand in silence. The time you stayed by his side after a breakdown no one else saw. “It’s not magic,” he said. “It’s just you. And me. And what we’ve built.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Then slowly — reverently — he knelt, arms still wrapped around you, cheek pressed to your back. “I’m not asking you to love me forever,” he said. “I’m asking you to let me love you. Forever. Not because I’m perfect. But because with you… I want to be real.” He opened a small pink box. Inside was a ring shaped like a blooming rose, the petals formed from soft pink diamonds and warm gold — beautiful, but not overwhelming. Like him, stripped bare. “Will you marry me, MC?” You turned in his arms, kneeling to face him. Tears slipped from his lashes before yours could fall. “Yes,” you whispered. “You’ve always been real to me.” And in the mirror behind you, two reflections glowed softly — not idealized, not filtered. Just true.
“More Than an Appetite” [Beelzebub]
The gluttonous giant who hungered for something deeper — a soul to fill the emptiness inside.
Beelzebub’s love is simple, but never small. He feels things deeply, but speaks sparingly. To him, love isn’t about poetry or performance — it’s about being there. Carrying your weight when you’re tired. Sharing the last bite. Catching your hand when you trip — even if it means falling with you.
So when Beel decides to propose, it’s not because he’s worked up courage or found the perfect ring. It’s because he’s known, deep in his bones, for longer than he can remember. Loving you fills something he thought would always be hollow. A hunger that had nothing to do with food.
His proposal is quiet, but cosmic — a promise whispered in between breaths and bites, a vow baked into something homemade, something shared. Because to Beel, love is nourishment. And asking you to marry him is his way of saying: let me feed your soul for the rest of your life.
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It started with the scent of cinnamon and honey. Not a typical Beel dish — you’d expected meat, maybe something savory — but instead, your kitchen had been transformed. Counters dusted with flour. Dough rising quietly in the warmth. Spices in delicate balance.
Beel stood at the center, apron dusted, hair tied back. He looked up as you entered, and smiled that slow, gentle smile that could undo the world.
“I made something,” he said, lifting a tray with careful hands. “It’s a dessert from the Celestial Realm. We used to make it when… when things felt too heavy. It reminded us we were still alive.”
He placed a slice on a plate, set it before you. It glowed faintly — like light had been baked into it. The first bite was warm, tender. It tasted like comfort, like childhood memories you didn’t know you had.
“It’s missing something,” he murmured. “One last thing.”
He stepped away, rummaging through a nearby container. When he returned, he wasn’t holding a garnish.
He held a ring.
Simple. Handmade. A braided band of gold and copper, inset with a single orange gemstone that looked like crystallized sunlight. It pulsed faintly — the magic in it not showy, but steady. Alive.
He didn’t kneel. He didn’t need to.
He sat across from you, elbows resting on the table, eyes softer than candlelight.
“I didn’t think I could ever feel full,” he said quietly. “Not just my stomach. My heart. But when I’m with you… it’s not hunger anymore. It’s something else. Peace. Joy. Hope.”
He reached across the table and took your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“I want to share every meal with you. Every quiet moment. Every sunrise and every ache. I want to protect you — not just from danger, but from loneliness. From emptiness. Will you marry me?”
You couldn’t speak. Not right away. You squeezed his hand, hard, and nodded through the tears.
“Yes, Beel. Always.”
He slipped the ring on your finger, and something settled between you — like the last puzzle piece sliding into place. He leaned forward, kissed the corner of your mouth, and smiled.
And for the first time in his long, aching existence, Beelzebub felt completely full.
“A Light in Eternal Twilight” [Belphegor]
Lost in shadows and sleep, he finds a spark that refuses to fade — a promise of love beyond the night.
Belphegor doesn’t trust happiness. Not because he’s incapable of it, but because it’s always been something fleeting — a soft thing that crumbles in his hands before he can savor it. Death has left fingerprints on everything he touches, and love… love felt like a dream meant for someone else.
But then came you. Not a dream. Not a delusion. Real. And terrifying.
He tried to ignore it. Tried to drown it in apathy, in sleep, in sarcastic deflections. But love snuck in — soft as twilight, steady as moonrise. You didn’t wake him from the darkness. You joined him in it. Sat beside his grief, held hands with his ghosts, and whispered, “You don’t scare me.”
So when Belphie proposes, it isn’t dramatic or well-rehearsed. It’s hesitant. Shaky. Real. Because this is the first future he’s ever dared to believe in — and he’s still afraid he’ll lose it.
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He asked you to meet him in the planetarium. Not the grand one open to the Devildom’s elite — but the abandoned one tucked inside the observatory near the edge of the Devildom sky cliffs, where forgotten stars still flickered on mechanical orbits, and the air smelled of dust and old dreams. You found him lying in the center of the domed floor, arms behind his head, eyes open — watching galaxies spin above. He didn’t look up when you entered. He just patted the floor beside him. You laid down. The silence stretched — not uncomfortable, but heavy. Sacred. Time passed like breath. Then, his fingers brushed yours. “I used to come here after Lilith died,” he said, voice low, almost inaudible. “I’d watch the stars and pretend she’d become one. That maybe, if I stared long enough, I could follow her.” You turned your head to face him. His lashes were wet. “I never thought I’d want to stay,” he whispered. “Not really. Even after the war, even after I forgave everyone. I thought I’d just drift until my body gave out.” He paused. Swallowed. “Then you came. And for the first time in eons… I didn’t want to follow the stars. I wanted to build something beneath them.” He sat up slowly, then stood — and reached into the pocket of his hoodie. “I don’t have a box,” he muttered. “Or a speech. But I have this.” He held out a ring — small, dark silver with tiny, faint constellations etched along the inside. At its center was a polished moonstone that shimmered like sleep. “I had it made from starstone. Same kind they use for grave markers in the Celestial Realm. It’s a stone for rest. For endings.” His voice trembled. “But I want this to be a beginning.” He knelt beside you. Not formal. Not poised. Just a boy who once hated the world, daring to love it through you. “I’m not easy to love. I know that. But you make me want to try. So… will you marry me?” You sat up and reached for him, your fingers tangling in his hoodie as you pulled him close. “Yes,” you breathed. “Even if we sleep under the stars for the rest of time — it’ll be enough. You’re enough.” His forehead rested against yours. His breathing hitched. And high above, the planetarium stars paused — as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath for you.
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@virelia
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nerdygirlramblings · 5 months ago
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the pups come home!
an: it's another long one. sorry?
cw: poorly executed accents, omegaverse biology, m/m anal sex (including knotting)
previous
Quiet but not quite. Still but reatless. Nervous energy crackles in the air. Excited tension. The house holds its breath, waiting. Your parents and the new pups are on their way home.
Every passing car causes a cascade of glances before the eventual, "Not them," from Ben, positioned at the front window until the gentle rumble of the engine in the drive sets everyone in motion.
Surprisingly, it's Davy who beats everyone to the door, opening it, revealing Mum mid-reach. From the sofa, you watch first as surprise then love chase away her momentary shock. Shaky arms come up as she enfolds Davy in a hug, murmuring softly to him. He returns the embrace, the muscles in his arms tensing as he squeezes her back. Michael and Helen drop quick kisses on her cheeks before slipping past her into the front garden. The three of you decided last night how you'd help when everyone came home from the birth centre. Their job is to help the moms bring Dad and the new pups in. You job is to get everyone fed and settled. There's soup for Dad, full plates for Mama and Mum, and two bottles ready.
While the elder twins bring in the younger twins, you let the triplets greet Mum and then Mama and Dad as they come through the door. All three adults give all three teens the same treatment: whispered words and tender hugs and kisses. It's a much more joyous return from the birthing centre than the triplets have seen your parents have before. All they've known is the litters Dad lost. You want them to be able to celebrate this miracle.
Though the elder twins bring the new ones in, it's the triplets who are officially introduced to them first, lifting each baby into the crook of their neck for just a moment to let the baby smell them, imprint their scent, and know this is family. Watching the ritual your parents established when the first twins were born, telling the triplets, "They aren't our babies, they're your babies too. You'll be here to love them and guide them. To look out for them. And one day, when we're gone, you'll be there for each other. Family."
Hearing it again, you realize your parents always stressed family, but they never said pack. You know many people see them as synonymous terms, but Mama was a literature major at uni, and you were raised with the importance of using the right words. You know there is a reason they use family instead of pack. You wish you understood what it was.
When you finally have a chance to be introduced, you take each baby from Michael, Grant first then Amelia, holding their little heads close, whispering the same thing you've only said five times, "You are more than my sibling. You are part of me, and that will never change. I will love you and support you and care for you always." Each reverent phrase accompanied by a kiss to the baby's temple before passing the child off to one of your parents.
Michael and Helen swing through the kitchen and pick up the bottles to feed the babies. You all remember how tired Dad is after a delivery, so you wrap an arm around his waist in the guise of holding him close after the successful delivery, Mum and Mama slowly trailing after you. You settle them all at the table, then join them to catch them up on how the household has fared in their absence.
You hadn't had a chance to talk with them when you first arrived, and now they ask why you're home. "Clearly you couldn't have expected this," Mum huffs a laugh.
"No," you smile indulgently at first her then Dad, "this was a pleasant surprise."
The question of why you're here, now, is tied up in feelings about your team you don't quite understand and aren't sure how to process, so you don't answer it. Hopefully your parents are too fatigued to notice, but it feels like Dad is watching you pick at your fingers even though his eyes are on his food and the doorway through which you can hear Michael and Helen teaching the triplets how to hold and feed the pups. Mum and Mama must catch on something too - your avoidance, your nervous tic - and blatantly watch you over their plates. "Did something happen with your team?" Mum whispers, keeping this conversation to the kitchen.
A shoulder rises and falls. Your lips twist for a moment. Small movements there and gone belie the mess of emotions you don't know how to name.
Mama's hand on yours, a warm weight tethering you. "I think we need to talk when the rest are in the nest and the pups are sleeping." You can only nod.
"Dunno if ye heard, but the lass's Da had his pups," Soap whispers into the quiet evening. All he receives is a grunt in response. He's wrapped in Ghost's arms, Ghost's knot slowly deflating in his ass. A cock in the ass is one thing. Heat and stretch. The burn pleasant, a successful workout. An alpha's knot is an altogether different experience. Heat hot enough to scorch if you're unlucky. A stretch too far to be comfortable for either party, despite biology at play. Micro tears and burst capillaries. But he and Gaz do this for Ghost and will do it for Price in a few months if you aren't pack by then. It's one way they help the pack with balance.
Soap keeps up his running commentary in these stolen moments when Ghost is lucid, unconsumed by his instincts. "Price said 'e thinks she may be open ta courtin' when we get back." The arm around his waist grips tighter, and Ghost's scent goes briney with his arousal, a perfect compliment to Soap's own marine notes. "Ye like tha', huh, havin' Ren as oor own 'mega?" He knows the other man wants you. They all want you. And Ghost has been vocal this rut, calling out your name. Soap overhead Price's side of yesterday's call with you. Could hear a tinny version of you voice through the phone. The sadness there unmistakable. He knows Price is playing the long game. He only wished he knew how it will all play out.
Things are dark, closed, safe by the time your parents pull you from the nest. The pups and triplets are fast asleep, but Helen startles from half-slumber and Michael turns from his screen. "Just need to chat with your sister before she heads back to base," Dad tells them. "Can ya watch the pups? We'll be in the kitchen, yeah?" Michael nods, back to scrolling through his phone in the dim room. Helen scoots into the space Mama left next to the new pups, her body a gentle barrier to the nest's edge.
In the kitchen, the quiet feels oppressive. The lights don't make the room warm and inviting, instead you're on the wrong side of an interrogation, like when your parents caught you sneaking in from a party when you were in Lower Sixth. A butterfly under glass. Pinned by the weight of their knowing gazes.
The air takes on weight. There's some silent conversation between the moms and Dad. You remember the looks they shared when you told them about being on the boards on base. Finally, you crack. "What?" you ask, nervous and unsure of your footing.
"Baby," Dad starts, "why are you here?"
You avoided the question earlier but know they won't let you deflect now. "Well, the team had leave, so I came home." The omission is deafening.
"Ya didn't want to take leave with yer team?" Mum asks. "Get ta know them without all the trainin' ya do?"
Somehow they've mastered the art of seeing past your artifice, and if you don't start telling them now, Mama will cut through your bullshit faster than a dog can lick a dish. You shift uncomfortably. This is somehow worse than the conversations you had in your teens about sex and consent and your heats and an alpha's ruts. Your jaw clenches briefly before you force yourself to relax. "Well, I'm here cause it isn't really leave fer the others. One of the pack alphas has his rut, and the whole pack takes a week to handle it together." You don't rush because if you go too fast and have to repeat yourself, you will self-immolate.
Mama blinks while Mum stares at Dad. Clear whatever planned conversation they had, this is not the information they expected you to share. "Er," Mama says, "that's very... progressive of them, yeah?" She recovers quickly because she asks, "Aren't they on suppressants?"
You shake your head. "Captain Price said they only use 'em during missions. Keeps 'em from throwin' anyone off balance for too long." Dad nods, and you hope he's remembering your bad reactions.
He's the one who breaks the silence next. "How do ya feel about them doin' that? Takin' off together, without you, to handle their alpha's rut?"
You think he's asking about you, but he could be asking about your omega, and you hate that you don't know which one answers when you say, honestly, "I miss them."
Mum hums and Mama nods along, but it's still Dad who speaks. "Have ya given any more thought to the other half of yer Captain's offer?"
There's no denying now this is about you being 141's omega, being more than teammates. Your hands fiddle in your lap. The longer you wait, the more obvious your answer seems to be, to them and to yourself. "I don't want things to change," you finally whisper, sounding so much younger. Vulnerable in a way you haven't let yourself be in too many years to count.
"Hey, pretty girl," Dad croons. You can't help but look at him. "Captain Price seems like a good alpha. We know he's a good Captain and a good man. From what you've told us, the whole team supports you and wants you to be a successful soldier. They're already looking out for you in their way."
Your parents let you sit with that truth for a few quiet minutes before Mama tells you, "Seems like they've shown interest. And it looks like your omega is interested. You deserve a pack of your own, honey. You've already put so much faith in these men. Maybe it's time to take that last leap, yeah?"
Mum chimes in with, "You'll always be our sweet girl, but you deserve a pack who will love you in a way we can't." There are tears lining her eyes, but she blinks them away before they fall. "We want you happy."
When they head back to the nest, you don't immediately follow. You sit in the stillness and listen, really listen, to your omega. How the team makes her feel safe, desired, cared for. How she wants what your parents have: the love and support and eventual family.
You know the 141 wouldn't make you retire. They'll support your career, and in that way, they're already better than most packs you could find. If rumors spread about you sleeping your way into the team because you're their omega, you know the pack would have your back. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To be seen as who you are, not what you are?
Isn't it worth it to try?
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muletia · 8 months ago
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✧˖° 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
inspired by 'if not for you' by george harrison
[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader
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summary: after winning the war, optimus found his safe haven. with you.
cw: fluff, pinch of angst, obsessive thoughts, i may have romanticized his obsession a bit... self-indulgence, canon divergence - optimus gets his happy ending :))
word count: 1200
this fic can be treated as the yang to my previous piece about his dream and as the good ending to the whole obsessed!optimus arc
Once, a fire burned within his body. It consumed every conduit, reached every metallic tissue. The blaze wrought devastation, destroying and leaving behind necrosis until it consumed him entirely, mercilessly incinerating the remnants of optimism, the hope that he might live to see a better tomorrow.
Optimus burned out; the flame hollowed him from within and left behind only a shell. Deep within his spark, however, an ember still flickered — a reminder that he could not surrender, that he must endure to the end and serve his own, for that was the role he had chosen those ages ago. He could not capitulate. He would not.
And then, you appeared. A tiny spark that reignited the fire.
This one was fiercer and more painful, but within it lay the beauty of caring for someone, loving their flaws and imperfections, lending strength when it was most needed. You gave him enough of it to end the conflict once and for all. Optimus had long lost hope for a better tomorrow for himself. But for yours, he was willing to do absolutely anything. To ensure your well-being, reshape the future so you would no longer have to live in fear for your home. He did not factor himself into it; knew the sacrifice required to bring an end to a war that had escalated to an interplanetary scale. He could only dream, nourishing his imagination with visions he would never behold.
At least, that was what he once believed.
The wind gently brushes against his armor, and the spring sun envelops him with warmth. Far from civilization, no sounds of haste or petty conflicts reach him. It is only him and your garden, the flora that continously surprises him with something new. Colors, shapes of flowers, bloom schedules. Simple organisms, mundane and primitive, yet he saw beauty in them. Their simplicity fascinated him, as it was the complete opposite of Cybertron and its inhabitants.
But what captivated him most was their will to live, their resilience, the extent of suffering they could endure before yielding, before giving up. He drew inspiration from them, saw himself in them, for he, too, wished to live.
Now, yes. For you.
He knows you will return soon; your weekly schedule is deeply etched into his processor. But until then, he does not know what to do with himself. He always spends his time waiting for you, for the moment your vehicle rolls into the garage, for it is only then that he begins to truly live. In your company, surrounded by conversation, your kindness, and an affection impossible to replicate.
Everything he does in your absence is merely to kill time, to hasten your return, to occupy his processor and stave off madness without you. Sometimes, he manages, especially when a former teammate visits. But there are days when all he can do is meditate beneath the tree closest to the driveway, waiting for you. Thinking about what you will do together when you return, what news from work you will share with him, and how he might bring you joy today.
Without you, he is lost. The self-sufficiency built over so many years suddenly crumbles, revealing an uncertain, astray being entirely dependent on his conjunx.
Today is no exception to the routine. No one has visited. Optimus remains alone with his thoughts, which, for several years now, have been recalibrated to revolve solely around you. Once, they fed the fire he had to vigilantly tend, for he easily lost control over it, and it burned him alive. Now, it envelops him in a pleasant warmth, more soothing than the sun’s radiance. More comforting and tender. It brings him solace and peace, though it still fuels an unhealthy devotion. No longer destructive, but still imbued with a fiery passion, more powerful than Primus himself.
Sometimes, he misses Cybertron. Guilt over abandoning the search for a way home gnaws at him when he is not entirely focused on you. He knows the others still strive to find a solution. Occasionally, they invite him on missions, living fossils of his former life, but Optimus ceased aiding them for his own interest long ago. He does not wish to return, could not bear to leave you, to forsake the life you have painstakingly woven together. He might as well perish if it meant never seeing you again.
A sound pulls him back to reality, the scratch of tires on a gravel road. You are still distant; he will see you in precisely four minutes and twenty-six seconds, but a subtle smile already creeps onto his faceplate. This is the exact moment he has awaited half the day, yet even now, his composure cracks, revealing his excitement. He wishes to greet you. Now. Immediately.
He mass-shifts, preparing for your return. Would prefer to drive you himself, but you insisted on not taking advantage of him, a decision he never fully understood. Had he not made it abundantly clear that he would do anything for you? That he was at your every beck and call, ready to please and serve? Yet, to his misfortune, it was a harmless decision, one you had every right to make, and he was never the confrontational type.
He watches as you park and step out of the car, holding shopping bags, which he immediately takes from you.
"Greetings, my dearest," he says.
"Hello, love!" you reply. You want to add something else, perhaps to start recounting your day, but he must interrupt you.
His servo cradles your face, fitting its contours perfectly, as if you truly were made for one another. He lowers his helm to your face and kisses you. First the edge of your lips, then your cheek and jaw, steadily trailing down to your neck.
Once, he feared touch, terrified of its power, of how quickly and completely it consumed him. How much he craved, and how little he possessed. Each time, he waited for your permission, for you to dictate what he could and could not do, lest he accidentally hurt you. Destroy the relationship that sustained his wretched life, shattering the trust you had placed in him. And though similar moments remain a near-daily occurrence in your relationship, they have migrated to other spaces, to intimate places. In other circumstances, he has relaxed the self-imposed rigor, dictating for himself when he could, when he should, and when he wanted.
“Not wasting any time today, are you?” you laugh.
"Opti, not here," you chide.
Even he is unsure of what overcame him, you closeness addictive and consuming. He usually waits until you both calmly return home to prove how much he has missed you. Today, he cannot wait. The sight of you breaks him, making him acutely aware of his yearning, which he must somehow release before it consumes him entirely.
He stops immediately, though the taste of your skin lingers on his glossa, teasing him to continue his advances. It unsettles his processor as it invigorates his frame.
"I missed you," he says, syncing his stride with yours.
“I missed you too,” you reply, smiling in a way that infects him with the same expression.
He needed this. Simplicity, a place he could call home. You. For without you, there would be no new day, no spring, and the universe would become empty. Soulless and cold.
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shrimpybbq · 8 months ago
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thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that
this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,
“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”
“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”
rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.
“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.
“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“
rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.
“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.
“No, but-”
“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”
rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),
“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”
rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,
“Feeling better, baby?”
she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.
“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”
rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 30 days ago
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𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝒅𝒂𝒚 5~𝒕𝒊𝒆
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👔scarred! nanami kento x fem wife!reader
👔 synopsis: it's been a while since you and your husband have made time for intimacy. you test his patience at a summer party, regardless of the consequences that involve his signature tie.
👔word count: 3.7k
👔cw: minors dni, smut, light bondage(wrists), orgasm denial, edging, fingering, p in v, rough sex, light degradation/praise, kento gets fed up
👔a/n: wouldn't be like me not to submit another late entry 🙈. This is my day 5 entry for Nanami week for the NSFW prompt: tie. And with that I am finished 😮‍💨😮‍💨 going to be real: I'm not sure about this one 😓☠️ but I had fun celebrating and spreading the love for the hubby💕 blue dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more. sparkles by @/anitalenia
👔 my nanami week masterlist
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Being married was beautiful, but it wasn't exactly easy. They never did warn you about that transition from dating to marriage. The butterflies had settled. The spark that would ignite when you and Kento would lay eyes on one another was of a different kind now. It soothed instead of aroused. Spontaneity melted into familiarity. It was relief. It was home.
You both shouldered a new set of responsibilities as you acclimated to this life you started together. While you accepted them, it felt bittersweet as time passed and you grew further and further away from those early days.
You missed the first several months of knowing one another where you couldn't know one another well enough. Longed for the times where passion alone couldn't quell the unquenchable desire and you sought the most biblical parts of one another like you were long deprived.
You missed the fleeting touches that would set your heart off in a tizzy. The intensity of those first few kisses that surrendered you to pure carnality where you'd nearly being devouring one another. The fervor and and insatiableness that would rack your body whenever he slid that heavenly cock of his so deeply inside you. Those looks across the room that carried fire in only a language both you and him understood.
Now, back in Tokyo for a quick summer weekend away from your permanent home in the country, you still hadn't managed to find that much needed time alone.
You knew Kento adored you just as much as you did him, but every moment apart just fed the monsters in your brain, aggravated by the alcohol that went down with less and less resistance at this staff summer gala in a fancy hotel courtyard while you studied him from across the garden.
Kento could make any outfit as opposed to the outfit making him.
He stood out from the golden light of the fading sun that mingled with the silken tresses of his hair that were arranged in a neat tousle that was signature of him, save for the subtle cowlick on the back left side of his head and those one or two unruly strands that liked to fall in front of his forehead.
His dress shirt clung to his lean muscle which only became further emphasized when he raised his arm, briefly flashing his watch and the fleeting glint of his wedding ring as he gently tucked his fingers into his pocket, allowing a sneak peek of his narrow waist.
The low, gentle inflections of his voice were drowned in the murmured chatter from among the guests, but came through based on your memory of having heard it so many times. Left eye covered by his black eye patch, the brown of the other intently focused on Hiromi as the two traded quiet conversation, his scars portraying that hint of ruggedness to him that always hit you with that surge of desire.
As though your knowing gaze summoned his attention, he looked up at you briefly, the faint wrinkles near his temples would loosen softly for a moment in tender familiarity, then tighten once more as he furrowed his brow and returned to the depth of the conversation he was already engaged in.
You huffed out a breath in frustration. A pale lavender sundress canvassed the soft curves of your body tonight complimented by your beige wedge sandals. It was the first in awhile you felt particularly confident, but aside from Kento complimenting you in your shared bathroom back at your penthouse before leaving, you had been starved of any sort of verbal feedback from him since.
"Ladies?" Satoru, man of the hour, smiles and gestures for you, along with the other women to sit on one side of the polished dinner table across from your men on the other side. Twinkling fairy tea lights cast an allure on your husband's face that grew hotter as he drew nearer, honey of his eye locked on yours as you sat across from him.
A glimmer of hope rose within you at the breadcrumb of attention only to be quickly dashed as dinner began and he continued his conversation with the dark haired lawyer next to him.
Once the food arrived, you found some of your restlessness subsided in the richness of the fire roasted Yakitori and seared vegetables.
You looked at Kento across from you as you ate, eyes practically boring into his skull. Willing him to give you something, anything at all. A glimpse, a smile. Even better if he'd reach across and take your hand in his. At least acknowledge you were still alive at any point in the evening, nevertheless he continued into the heat of his conversation.
Resentment mixed with sexual frustration and alcohol motivated you to start taking slow, slow bites, even let some of the sauce dribble slightly down your chin and make it a point to run your tongue slowly across your lips.
It was almost as if Kento could pick up on your plotting, turning his head, an eyebrow raising ever so slightly as you gave him an angelic smile with intentions far from innocent, inviting lips locked around your utensil.
Kento's chest rose momentarily, eye wandering left and right before he cleared his throat, his sharp jaw jutting in brief acknowledgement before one of his large palms closed briefly over yours on the table, giving a subtle squeeze which you knew was code for "behave."
Oh, but now you were finally getting somewhere. It was too soon to stop now. You smiled, silently relishing in your small victory, taking it a little further when the dessert eventually was brought out. Dainty bowls of raspberry lemon sorbet and each little spoonful you licked into your mouth more suggestively than the last.
The tips of Kento's ears began to turn pink ever so slightly, another victory to add to your growing tally, only this time, he's clearly unamused, teeth tutting in disapproval.
"Darling, mind your expressions, please."
This annoyed you, quickly withdrawing your hand from underneath his and putting it back into your lap.
Now, Kento's turn to be displeased. You were being a brat, but little did you know that he was paying attention. Perhaps you were too focused on getting it that you weren't noticing the building tent in his pants or the tightening grip on his wine glass.
Of course he's wanted to fuck you all evening, the way the neckline of your dress plunged just slightly allowing glimpses of the shiny swells of your breasts, the way it flowed away and emphasized the softness of your waist and the feminine curve of your stomach, he had to talk to Hiromi just to resist the urge to call it early and make you a moaning mess underneath him, dress hiked up your thighs before the evening could even begin.
Kento's jaw tenses. Underneath the table, one of your smooth legs gently uncrosses, shedding your sandal, the bottom of your heel barely grazed over the skin on his ankle, making the small hairs raise on end. He halts his breath as he feels your polished toes trace a teasing path up his shin, tickling his calf.
The white in his knuckles becomes even more prominent, his focus on the drunken words Hiromi is mindlessly spewing towards him is all but evading him.
Ah, there it is. You bite your lip as the arch of your foot teases the seam of his slacks, right over the tender area of his crotch, almost making him choke on a bite as you gently press with your bare foot, the warm bulge beginning to softly pulse from the attention.
Kento's cheeks are now a hue like the cranberries bobbing in your tropical summer sangria by this point, and not due to the bourbon he was casually nursing all night.
You notice the breath he was holding barely squeezes out in shaky release as you massage your arch into the now protruding distraction between his legs, responsive and aching for some tight, wet, stimulation.
Your mouth waters at what your mind remembers, what his cock looks like: long, thick, and heavy. Feels like: warm, veiny, and rigid in all the right spots that felt so snug and thick against your walls, stretching your pussy in just that right way like it was divinely crafted to hold and respond to only him.
Don't you dare...
He closes his eye, begging for the last shred of whatever strength he has left in him to come through at the very last minute before his boner does in front of every last guest at this summer gala.
His mind is at war with the pleasure and his conviction to not entertain such risky intimate behavior so publicly.
Before you know it, he stands up abruptly, brief exclamation of the guests sitting nearby as the silverware and drinks jolted in their place, knocked slightly askew, saying goodnight and leaving firm yet hasty apologies for the Nanamis' abrupt departure before you both disappeared into the pleasant night.
----
The garden path weaves into the trees, winding down large stone stairs with deep green moss, and guardians etched out of marble watching over the orchids and lilies alike that adorn the bushes in blossoming bursts of pink and white.
The sunset has nearly departed, the coolness of the night settles, dashing the humid air and the moonlight summons the soft glow of fireflies, hiding in the budding blossoms while the fish ripple and glide under the calm surface of the ponds and the frogs begin to croak their evening lullaby.
"The entrance is that way-"
He pulls you down the path hastily, gripping your hand more firmly when you don't hold his as tightly as he'd like.
"Hold my hand properly, please. Thank you."
"Ken, where are we going? Kento?"
He ignores you and detours you both off the path, arriving at a small gazebo. You're on the very edge of the gardens, the sounds from the party nothing but distant echos where your voice can't reach from here.
"Ken-"
It's an immediate clash of teeth and lips. He's angry, you can sense it in the urgency that he's kissing you as though it's been bottled up. The frustration you caused makes him take measures that may be unlike him. Ones that start at a dinner table and wind up in a hotel courtyard while his colleagues partied several yards away, remaining none the wiser. Your kiss was the kindling and his the flame that quickly evolved into a wildfire, skimming and prodding his warm tongue into your mouth.
"You're so greedy."
"I'm not the one who insisted on dragging me out here to the gardens when our home is just mere blocks away."
"I'm not the one who's been acting insufferable all night."
"Insufferable?" The word sits in your mouth like venom.
"Insufferably needy." Kento clarifies with a huff, the spotted print of his tie zipping through his collar in one swift motion. "Wrists, please."
"Kento, I-"
"Wrists, darling." He gives you that look like he's not going to ask more than twice.
You relent, presenting your wrists with a mixture of defeat and annoyance, holding back a snort as he tied them together. With them bound and immovable from one another, you stand there, testing the restraint with little tugs, but the knot holds tight.
"Hmm...sturdy." You smile.
You had been in situations with Kento like this before. While you wouldn't describe yourselves as particularly adventurous, there were certain situations where you might deviate into that territory, though they were quite rare. So seeing this unfolding tonight the way it was, was a bit of a wildcard. You can tell he's frustrated, which leaves you equal parts excited and apprehensive for what's to come. You disguise your building anticipation with one of your cheeky, cavalier grins.
Kento notes the smugness in your expression, knowing he's about to wipe it off your face in a matter of moments.
"Did you find it amusing, Mrs. Nanami, acting so shameless like that in front of all my colleagues?"
With your wrists still knotted together, he throws your arms over his neck in a loop, squeezing you together so you're chest to chest.
"Ken..." You giggle, trying to lift your arms back over his head, but your wrists stay held tight.
"So like my dear wife to try and back out as soon as I start to give her what she wants..." He scoffs in your ear, as he gathers your dress in his right hand.
He squeezes your cheeks together with his left hand before his thumb brushes along your lips, pausing in the middle. "Open your mouth."
You suck on his scarred fingers, glossing your tongue generously over them, lingering nice and slow, burrowing yourself deeply into his gaze through your eyelashes on purpose. You know you're about to be at his mercy but you'll make damn certain you have the last laugh on your way out the door.
The cadence of his breathing pauses just momentarily, a shudder of weakness you detect in the softness of that brown iris of his as he feels the slobbery rolls of your tongue, but he refuses to show you any further that it's whittling his composure.
How funny. You both are stubborn. A match made in heaven.
Finally he withdraws them, syrupy and wet. You jolt when his long fingers immediately start circling your clit without preamble, the wetness from kissing earlier helps him rub and glide them much more smoothly, exploring your soft terrain, the gentle folds of flesh, that spot right along the outside of your clit just to the left that always makes you arch your back. Right there.
"Oh, Ken..."
"...and never fails to get wet so easily."
He smiles darkly at you. Back to being sweet because he knows he's wrecking you.
"But that's because you love when I make such a slut out of you because you, my darling love, are so impatient..."
He brushes his nose against yours, kissing you right as he curls his fingers, swallowing your scream in his mouth.
"Kento...Kento...." You moan as soon as he breaks away, fucking you even deeper with his fingers, until he settles on that low thrumming motion against the spongy softness he coaxes with his middle and ring fingers, right along your convulsing walls.
"You know better than that." He murmurs, kissing lazy trails down your neck as the windows to your eyes roll back.
"Riling me up like that in front of everyone. You would like it if I fucked you in front of everyone, wouldn't you?"
Your pussy lewdly squelches like jelly as he withdraws his fingers, spanking your clit. You shudder, with the abupt flicker of pain that dissolves into pleasure that you never would have trusted anyone else to ignite in you but him. And fuck, he always did it so well.
You keep your face buried against the loose edges of his collar that were once wrapped in the tie that's now binding your hands.
"Maybe I would like it..." You moan between smiles and then whine, "Mmmmmphh, Ken...I was so close to cumming..."
"I know you were, darling." He replies, already setting the low simmer for another wave of pleasure as he starts rubbing your clit again. "But this will take as long as I say. You're a minx. But your little fantasy is going to stay that way. You forget who you belong to..."
"Fuckkk, Kento...." The delicious ache settles into a new rush of warmth that feels euphoric, but the remnants of the old one are already being layered underneath this one, making you feel like you're going to burst. "You're so mean..."
"I'm mean, am I?" He retorts playfully, amused as he kisses your temple. "On the contrary. I am being fair, Mrs. Nanami."
He groans into your neck as he unzips his cock, glossing the fat tip between your folds, before he uses it to tease your clit. You squeeze him even tighter, hands almost going numb as you fight against the knot securing them.
"I'm merely returning the same frustration you've been building up in me all night."
"But you weren't paying attention to me, Ken. I couldn't even get you to hold my hand at dinner. Fuckk....d-didn't hear a word from you since we left the penthouse..."
"Maybe so..." He hums as the underside of his cock glazes through your web of sticky nectar. "And is trying to arouse me when we're in front of our friends any way to ask for it?"
You grumble and he chuckles with self-assuredness. He exhales as the folds of your pussy glide and dribble with the seamlessness of silk. A soaky oasis of juices between your thighs he'd love nothing more than to sink himself into.
"But if you'd still like to know...I've been thinking about how warm and soft you'd feel around me all night. Ever since I saw the back of your dress and how it fits so beautifully on that gorgeous body of yours..."
He smacks your ass hard with an open palm before grabbing one of the cheeks to guide the rolls of your hips more harshly against his erect cock, still using it to wetly grind and swirl against your slick clit, basically doing everything but fucking you while your hands and wrists stay tied up.
"You wore those cheeky panties that don't leave anything to the imagination whenever the dress clings to you. Do you've any idea the kind of war I was at with myself?"
"Kento...Kento....Kento..." You sob the mantra of his name as the coil winds tight, and let your head fall back in his neck when he removes the stimulation, yet again.
"What do you have to say, darling?" He lavs his shaft from the cream leaking through your folds again, coaxing everywhere but the glistening pearl or inside you where your body aches to feel him.
Now he's bribing you. And luckily for him, you're loosened up enough that you'd give him just about anything after being denied twice. He's lucky the buildup to each incident felt better than heaven, making up for the fact that they were so rudely interrupted each time.
"Sweetheart?"
"Mhmm?" He kisses the corner of your jaw, thumb tracing the edge of your panties under your dress, tugging them to the side, leaking your shiny pussy exposed to the cooler air. "Yes, darling?"
"I'm sorry..."
He breathes and pushes inside you with one shove, your unified moans shatter the silence and set you both on fire as the beautiful stretch of you welcomes him: warm, silky soft, slick, home.
"Yes...fuck, yes, I'm sorry...mmmphhh, so sorry, Kento!"
His thrusts get harder the more you apologize, his arousal fueled by your initial regret that was quickly turning into pure desperation.
"Mmmphhh, yeah, you're sorry?"
"Nghhhh yes, yes baby, I promise!"
"Yeah? And what else, darling?"
"I love you Kento, fuck...love you so much."
"And I love you darling, so much...oh I could cum like this..."
"You feel so good..." You breathe angelically against his ear. "You s-still mad, Ken?"
"No, darling. I'm not." He pants as he slows down his thrusts, adjusting the rhythm to hard and deep as he speaks slowly to allow every word to sink in with every motion.
"Just don't... rile me up like that again." He moans deeply, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your shoulder as he uses the embrace he's got you locked in as leverage to pull you down and fuck you even harder on his cock.
"So sweet for me. Always so good...Fuck!"
He stills to hold all his cum inside you that runs in three leaky spurts, leaving your pussy walls soaked a pearly white. He holds you, his grip iron white until as he softens inside you, tracing circles along the stars of your spine like a silent apology of his own.
He lowers you down, removing your arms from the loop around his neck, leaning down to kiss the exposed parts of your fingers as he unravels them from his spotted tie.
Finally, when they're free, and you're cleaned up, satiated and filled with his cum, he holds your hands in his, kissing them again for good measure before he pulls you into his chest, walking with you towards the moon, a lavender bath and evening massage with your name on it as soon as you get home.
"I do need to be better at being present for you." He cradles your shoulder thoughtfully as you stroll side by side. "You brought up some fair points earlier, and I apologize too, for being neglectful." He teases a wisp of your hair, thumb brushing the precious stone of your earring.
"What do you say we go to breakfast tomorrow and have a day on the water?"
"Oh sweetheart, I'd love that so much."
"Good." He smiles and chuckles into your hair. "But you know, I wasn't being dishonest before. I had to hold back, otherwise we'd have never made it to this damn party."
"But you hate parties, Ken." You return a laugh into his neck. "We could've just stayed home and fucked all evening. It would have been fine by me."
He huffs and brings you closer, groaning in your ear hoping that nobody else heard that.
"You don't mince your words, do you, darling?" He pinches your shoulder in a tender manner that carries no sting.
"And not giving you a chance to wear such a gorgeous dress? Would be a shame."
He muses as he reconsiders in silence. "But, I have always liked keeping surprises for myself."
He kisses you at a red light on the crosswalk.
"I'll consider it next time, Mrs. Nanami."
"Thank you, my love."
He tucks you closer to him, shedding his coat and draping it on your shoulders, that tie of his undone against his chest.
It's not long before he's carrying you the rest of the way with your sandals in his hands.
The glint of your wedding band can't outshine the smile on your face that you lean against his heartbeat, thinking you'll push your luck and find a creative way to get him to order smoothies before your favorite shop closes.
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caramelarrowswife · 5 months ago
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DARK CACAO COOKIE AS YOUR FATHER!
─── ∘°❉°∘ ───
Because this old man needs a child to cheer him up <3
Father!Dark Cacao Cookie x GN!Child!Reader
─── ∘°❉°∘ ───
Needless to say, Dark Cacao gets EXTREMELY protective of you. He lost his son, he will not lose his remaining child.
You got a partner? Oh, that’s cute. Are they prepared for his 275-question interrogation? What do they do for a living? What’s their mayor? Are they trained in any type of martial art? What do they love most about you? Are they prepared for the consequences of breaking your heart? Would they throw themselves in front of a bullet for you?
He’s not very up-to-date with the norms of the current age. He’ll accept and love you if you’re gay or trans, but he might need Caramel Arrow or Crunchy Chip’s help with new terms.
Extremely old-fashioned. You do not get to sleep in the same room as your partner before you get married.
Dark Cacao will call you by your name in public, but has nicknames for you at home. ‘My little knight’, ‘Aegiya’ (Korean for ‘baby’), ‘my dear’.
He finds cooking a very important skill, so you grew up watching him cook something every night. He almost cried when you were in your cooking-ramen-every-night-phase.
You best believe he is not leaving your side after a failed assassination. He would rather host a meeting digitally (or, God forbid, host the meeting in your room) than leave you alone.
You have to play at least one sport, one instrument and one martial art. He loves playing the piano along with your instrument of choice or training with you in his free time.
He has to meet your friends at least seven times before you’re allowed to meet up with them without constantly being under a bodyguard’s careful watch.
You’ve decided to marry someone of an extremely low rank? Good for you! If you look closely, you can see Dark Cacao banging his head against the wall in the background. Don’t worry, he’ll come around… eventually.
Dark Cacao’s not a big fan of E-cigarettes. If he catches you vaping, he’ll sigh and tell you to smoke a cigarette like a normal person. Maybe he’ll realise he told you to smoke later in the night, which will result in a complete clearance of any type of cigarette in your room.
He was so proud of you when you killed your first rabid animal, most likely a Dire Creamwolf. His advisors were more than a little concerned.
The other Ancient Heroes absolutely adore you. Hollyberry Cookie fed you alcohol when you were nine (she was banished from the Kingdom for three months), Golden Cheese Cookie liked to fly really high up with you when you were a baby (Dark Cacao had a panic attack on the ground), White Lily Cookie will work in the royal garden with you and Pure Vanilla Cookie will do fun things with you and teach you a little bit of healing magic.
Dark Cacao is a big fan of classical music, especially Bach’s Goldberg Variations. He lies awake at night when you’re in a phase and blast B.A.D 4 music all day and night.
While Dark Cacao doesn’t always know how to show it, your opinion is extremely important to him. He already lost Dark Choco because he didn’t listen well enough (at least, so he thinks) he tries to be a better father for you.
Hollyberry got him drunk (on ‘accident’) the day you left for college. He called you, moping because his only child had ‘left him’.
He would literally pass through fire for you, but to eat the sweet things you consume religiously..? Most certainly not.
You convinced him to come with you to one of your favourite bands once. It ended up being something his therapist would hear about.
Dark Cacao likes musicals a lot better than movies, so you’ll be growing up with a lot of Lin Manual Miranda.
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milkandkissesss · 15 days ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐭𝟐
John Price x Fem!Reader
Part 1 here!
An: Ts is about the early 1800s/early 1900s post with John I made on my other profile @everlong0girl! Have fun^
Warnings: small fight, age gap (early20s/late30s) making up.
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^^
It had been a long while since you saw them. Your beloved parents whom you thought cared enough to even try and find you, reach out to you..
You wanted to send a letter or a few, but you knew better. John was your family now.
You settled into a sweet stone house just at the edge of town, just a train ride away from John's work base
Two bedrooms, bathroom, a slightly bigger kitchen and a sweet looking lounging room. Library for all of your books and your studies, along with his office and a sweet looking balcony that overlooked your small garden.
Life was simple. He made a house, and you made a home. He brought home money, and you'd make use of it.
But as months went by, for some reason you became slightly distant. Resenting him for, in a way, breaking you away from your family. It came suddenly, irrationally, and you didn't even know how those thoughts started.
He noticed it right away. How you'd shy away from his touch, and how you'd lean away from him at night when he'd try to nuzzle or hold you.
Tonight he came home from work, few days passed while he was gone, which was not an unusual occurrence. He was a Captain after all. You were in the kitchen stirring some sweet stew you made, liking the thought of eating hot stew on a winter night.
He came up behind you and hugged you around your waist gently. Immediately feeling the way you tensed up when under his hands. His gruff voice filling the room besides the sound of the boiling liquid atop the stove. "Are you alright my love?"
Sometimes when the irrational thoughts would get to you, he'd remind you just why you loved him. All these small touches and simple gestures of want and need were there to remind you, he was yours. Your husband.
You sighed. "I'm alright honey.. Just have a lot on my mind lately."
You knew you were being weird. But sometimes the thoughts of your mother's words came back to your head. "Think about your future"
But then you reminded yourself that they were ready to marry you off to some stranger for the rest of your life, just for the sake of money and favor.
"I think about my mother.. a lot lately." You cooed.
As his hands just slightly tightened on your waist.
"Your mother you say? My love they're past.. They aren't in our lives anymore." He muttered under his mustache.
"I miss my family, John." You said, though not realizing how it might have come off to him.
"I'm your family love.. Me." He answered. His voice just a tinge possessive. He was a bad man in people's eyes, but in your eyes he was a good man who did "bad things". That was because the others only saw those things, and you were the only one who felt that gentle, loving man. He only showed himself to you, opening up to you and being able to fall apart, knowing you'd put him back together.
And lately when he'd feel that tension in you, he felt like that ability to open himself up was diminishing with every small flinch you'd make.
"Love, they didn't care about you, nor your feelings.. I do."
"I know, i know.. I just can't get them out of my head." You said tentatively. As if feeling him also get more and more rigid behind you.
"No, you don't know." He bit back in a slightly more agitated voice.
"We're married, you're my wife. You're not their daughter anymore, you said that."
"I know i did, i.. I just miss them.. You got to understand John." You stuttered out, before hearing him argue back. "Sweetheart. I can't. They hurt you, and you.. You continue missing them and call them family, as if I'm some kind of man that took you away from them. Do you even know how that makes me feel?"
"I know, I-" He cut you off, as if needing to say. "No. I work.. And i break my back, to make sure You're comfortable, fed, happy. I buy you new dresses, shoes, everything. And i can't even have you care enough to stop saying something because it hurts my feelings?" He said in a biting remark. "Lately, when i touch you, you act like I'm sick contagious."
"No. No John no.. Thats not true. I appreciate you so much, i'm just having a lot on my mind lately."
"Yeah and i do too."
Then you realized how selfish you had been. Almost two months, you've been plagued by guilt and worry, simply because your parents programmed you that way, whenever you did something against them. And you had been disregarding his feelings for quite a while.
You sighed and turned around to face him, when you saw the thing you least expected. His manly sweet eyes had little sparkles at the corners. Shaking your head immediately, your hands went up to cup his face. Whispering. "I'm so sorry honey.. I'm so sorry.."
Before you know it, his hands were looser around you, and he leaned down into your neck with a shaky exhale of relief. He was so worried you'd think this was a mistake, which you even started doing. But he snapped you out of it. Feeling that same care and need for him, he knew he was welcome in your arms again.
You kissed over his head and held his hair, making him gently hum against your skin.
"Come on.. Dinner should be done soon, you must be hungry."
Few days later, it was a usual night before bedtime, you were getting ready to sleep. Sitting on the small wooden chair in front of the mirror. Eventually seeing him in the back, walking in wearing a simple cotton shirt and some sleeping pantaloons. Giving you a small glance in the mirror, and a small smile.
You were brushing your hair and gave him a smile back. It was one of those nights. You knew simply from the little hopeful look in his eye.
John was in his mid thirties, and he had been wanting a family for a long time. He even voiced to you, how he wished you'd conceive and have a baby, since you had been married for a good year now.
You stood up, your night gown fluttering against your ankles, as you walked over to him, sitting by him on the edge of the bed.
Hearing him say. "Good evening missus.."
"Evening Mister." You muttered back. Over your time together, you've learned the things he liked, and seemed to like them yourself just as much.
His hand went around your waist, scooting closer, as he asked. "May i?"
You just let him. Like you always let him. As afterwards, you laid down on his chest, your fingers gently going through his chest hair with small affectionate movements. He loved it. He loved you, and the fact that you two were back on track.
His hand atop your belly, as he was like a hopeful kid, wondering if you could maybe conceive tonight even. Muttering. "Do you think we did it love?"
"Maybe, maybe not.. i sure hope so."
Then he nuzzled into your temple and cheek a bit. His beard scratching at your skin as you chuckled. Saying gruffly. "I hope so too.. but i don't mind the process neither, sweet pea.. I love lovin' you.."
You grinned at him. Always getting a bit timid when he'd make such blunt comments. Simply answering playfully. "You fool.."
"Oh If it means i'm a fool for wanting ya, then im a bloody fool Darling.."
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@ohdrey89 your part two delivered !!
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sincerelyyuu · 1 year ago
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"in the end, it's still you." p3. • gojo satoru & geto suguru
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three
Today was the day.  Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.
To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.
Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.
Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years. 
You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.
Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.
You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench. 
Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term. 
He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.
“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”
“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.
You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.
“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.
Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”
“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.
“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties. 
Had you really known him at all?
The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance. 
“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you. 
“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”
You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”
“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”
You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.
“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”
Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.
“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”
Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to. 
You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.
“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”
“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”
You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”
Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location. 
“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.
You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”
How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?
Gojo Satoru.
You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot. 
Did he even want to see you?
A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.
“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.
Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”
Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”
“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.
You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”
On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.
Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”
The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.
“(y/n)-sama?”
“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.
“I love you.”
You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?
“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.
The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong. 
Suguru.
You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.
“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.
Run faster.
You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.
You had to make it to Suguru.
Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight. 
You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest. 
Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy. 
There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta  intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.
But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.
Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.
And it was aimed directly at Suguru.
“SUGURU!”
You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears. 
For Suguru, it all happened so quickly. 
The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika. 
Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.
There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.
Then, Rika charged.
Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.
For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.
When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.
Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.
‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this. 
He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down. 
“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.
“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.
The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.
You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”
Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”
“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.
You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.
Satoru.
As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too. 
If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.
Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out. 
“I’m dying, Suguru.”
Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.
“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.
You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”
“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.
When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.
“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
“I love you.”
Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.
“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”
Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”
Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.
“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”
Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.
“Sleep, baby. I got you.”
With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.
Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from. 
Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.
You wouldn’t have had to die for him.
If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.
“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?
“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.
Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin.  Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.
“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.
Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”
Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”
Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”
He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you. 
And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.
“It was always you, you know that?”
Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.
Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie. 
The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…
“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.
“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.
Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.
…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…
“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”
He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.
“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.
Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”
Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.
Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”
…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.
Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?
Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”
Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’
Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.
The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind? 
Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.
But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.
“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.
Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”
“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”
Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.
Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.
Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.
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🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174 divider credit: @/saradika-graphics
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bitchinbarzal · 1 year ago
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Red, White & Blue | M Barzal
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part three of blue, white & orange
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Mat was miserable and it showed. It fed over into practices and his on ice performance.
The islanders bailed out in the second round, no thanks to Mat’s horrible playing.
He spent the off season at home, not his usual extravagant plans with you by his side. He only flew back to BC for a few weeks before he got home and back to work. He needed to get his mind off you.
You’d blocked him and seemingly moved as he dropped by your apartment only to meet a nice Swedish man named Jakob living there now.
Your jacket and jersey still hung over his dining room chair where he dropped them that night he got home. The jersey was still dirty from the floor and the jacket still smelled of her perfume.
When the season rolled back around in August Mat was all eyes forward. He still hadn’t heard from you and he was slowly but surely getting better.
The season opener was in Madison Square Garden, facing off against the rangers. He wasn’t worried, he just wanted the game to be done with. This team brought him nothing but horrible memories and feelings.
The game started strong, the islanders were on a positive beginning. They were leading by three going into the third. Mat was confident.
That was until he saw you on the jumbotron.
His breath caught in his throat when he saw your face, the smile he missed and loved so much. You were sat there wearing the thing that started all of this, that stupid jersey. The red, white and blue made Mat feel sick.
That threw him off. They lost. He just wanted to go home.
While heading back to the bus he heard someone shouting his name, turning to see Alexis calling for him.
He scowled “What do you want?”
Alexis rolled his eyes “Don’t forget she was my fiancé first… anyway, here” he thrusts a post it note into Mat’s hand
“What’s this?”
“That’s her new address” he explains and notices Mat’s confused expression “She still loves you Mat and all I ever wanted was for her to be happy if it was with me or you”
Mat took the post it with a shaky hand a soft smile “Thanks man…”
He gripped it tightly on the way back to UBS. Staring at it, as if trying to memorise it.
When he got back to his car it was the first thing he did, punch that address into his GPS.
When he arrived he sat in his car staring at the window of the apartment he had figured out was yours. It took him an hour before he finally had the nerve to go into the building and knock on your door.
He heard you call out “coming!” Before opening the door. You looked shocked to see him, suddenly aware of what you were wearing.
The blue burned Mat’s eyes. He wishes he could rip It off but he knew better.
“Mat-“
“I love you. I love you in this jersey, in my jersey - I mostly prefer you without anything to be honest!” He rambled, his hands flapping around
“You gave her my jacket” you mumble, curling back into yourself.
He shakes his head, scrunching his eyes closed “I- I didn’t give her it! Please just- she took it! She was cold and I turned my back for like a second. I had the jacket because I was coming to find you, to make up for what was happening between us”
You bit your lip “How do I know that?”
He shrugs “I can’t make you trust me but you know how much I love you, that’s never been in question. We fought, we were each jealous because we love each other so much so please don’t stay away from me any longer I can’t take it”
Your bottom lip quivered “How do you know we’re not bad for each other Mat?”
“Even if we are… I’m willing to take the risk”
You let out a shaky breath “Come here”
He immediately steps into the apartment and kisses you, both of you stumbling back a few steps. You feel him lifting up your jersey to reveal nothing underneath
“Mat!”
“I lied, I don’t love you in this jersey please get it off”
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milolunde · 1 year ago
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Triplets Born
Like most things, I started rewatching Sonic Underground for fun and nostalgia and ended up making a version of it for myself in my head. However, UNLIKE most things, I felt I needed to draw it immediately instead of keeping it in my head.
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Welcome to the stage Sonic Subternion
There was a time when Robotroplis was beautiful, full of life and peace, a time when it was known as Mobotroplis. Mobians were free to take part in the glory the queendom had to offer. They were free to take charge of their future, build a home, explore the world. But, just after my children were born the evil Doctor Robotnik used his technology to turn our world into a place of terror. Capturing the great realm of Mobotroplis, Doctor Robotnik and his machines turned our paradise into a prison of concrete and metal. 
As the source of Robotnik’s wealth, the aristocrats were left to play their tea parties and lavish masquerades, dooming my people to mechanical graves of servitude. Refusing to bend to Robotnik’s terror, he stripped me of my right as Queen, placing a bounty on my head… and the heads of my infant babies. Imprisoned in my own home, unable to aid my beloved queendom, I was left with a choice: Submit and forfeit Mobotroplis, or forfeit the life of my family. When all hope was lost, the Oracle of Delphius revealed to me a prophecy…
You must give up your children, separate, hide them from the evil that seeks their demise. Someday, you will reunite and overthrow Robotnik as the Lost Council of Four. But you must not act too soon. Cement your place in this destiny, for revealing yourself too soon will plunge your world into catastrophe. 
To give up my babies, to leave my queendom to the hands of Robotnik, then stand idle for years while the prophecy became realized. The Oracle laid before me a destiny where my worst fears were set in stone. Without a choice, I took my babies, smuggled myself and them out of the prison that was meant to be our palace home, and left them on the doorsteps to their true destinies… then fled.
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Sonia “Sophia” Windermere
On the steps of House Windermere, Queen Aleena hesitated. The Windermere family had been sponsoring Robotnik since he first began the siege of Mobotropolis. Was leaving her darling daughter in the palm that fed Robotnik truly what destiny demanded? Looking at the lush garden within the tall fence, Aleena stepped through the dead grass to the gate entrance and left her daughter, her beautiful Sophia, cradled in her crib, and ran, imagining herself running with her children through the lush court grass to the grand fountain at the center.
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Sonic “Oliver” Oakcrest-Hedgehog
Stepping carefully through the poison oak and already-dead pine saplings, Queen Aleena carried her baby boy through the woods strapped to her chest, arms curled around him in protection from the low branches. Upon hearing the rush of a waterfall, she took a breath and looked down at her baby. Wryly, she smiled at Oliver, who stared up at the sunset sky through the dead tree branches in awe. Untying the woven cradle from her back, she placed the sky-blue hoglet in the blankets, swaddled him tight, and gave him a final kiss before knocking on the cabin door and running back into the trees, arms shielding her face from the pine and twigs in her way. As she ran, she listened as the waterfall hushed and wondered what it would have been like to teach Oliver to swim.
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Manic “Maurice” Roach
Fearfully creeping through the ruin of her queendom, the new city of Robotropolis, Queen Aleena held on tight to the handle of her basket. Draped in a cloth, she hoped to disguise the cradle as an ordinary basket for carrying groceries. However, the ornate design of the cradle could not be completely covered, and the shape undoubtedly gave away that it was anything but an ordinary basket. Hoping the shadows and late hour, fifteen minutes before curfew, would keep her hidden, she tread towards her destination. It was a humble home, its front door blocked off and relocated to the narrow passage between the home and its neighbor. She loomed in the alley, hesitating for a moment as the green light flickered above her. Her realm did not have shadows before, but there she stood, skulking through her own queendom. Blinking, she set the cradle down and uncovered it, heart swimming when she laid eyes on Maurice. She brushed his quills, kissed him twice, then soothed her hand across his body, watching as he drifted to sleep with his medallion in his mouth. Finally standing, she covered the basket, rang the bell, and fled to hide for the night before curfew officially arrived. She ran with her eyes forward, knowing if she looked back she would gather her son into her arms in an instant. Tears stung her eyes and she wondered if fulfilling a cruel destiny felt much like being watched: Fingers numb and quills on end as it peered through the back of her throat.
=================
That's it as far as origins go... Sonic does still end up with Chuck a few years after living with the Oakcrest family, and Manic is still super kidnapped after Aleena leaves, but I thought that would lend better to another post. That is, if I have the motivation to make another post lol. I really enjoyed making this one. It's refreshing to get my ideas out somehow rather than just letting them stir in my head until I forget about it. WELL please let me know, of you read this far, if you liked it! I plan to do more with this "rewrite" or "AU" or whatever it is. Not sure what form it will take, but I already have how they all meet typed out somewhere and I look forward to sharing it!
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heavyhitterheaux · 11 months ago
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On Bended Knee
First Lady of Private Garden Fic
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Synopsis: You and Jack go to a series of therapy sessions to talk about your marriage that you honestly feel in the back of your mind is going to lead to the two of you being separated and Jack is desperately trying for it not to happen
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Mentions of postpartum depression, death, and miscarriage
“So, what is bringing us in today?” Fatima, your therapist asked both you and Jack as the two of you were sitting at opposite ends of the couch in front of her.
Jack glanced over at you and you simply had your head resting on your arm as you looked straight ahead so he figured that he needed to be the one to speak first.
“We are at odds like we've never been before and I don't know what else to do. It seems like I take five steps forward and ten steps back when it comes to her. I love my wife and I can't see myself without her.” He quietly said as Fatima smiled at him and nodded. She then turned to you.
“Y/N? Would you agree with that?”
“To a certain extent, yes. But I reached my breaking point a long time ago.”
Hearing that made Jack’s heart drop.
“Tell me more.”
“The man who claims that he's my husband and sitting across from me is someone that I truly no longer recognize as far as some of his actions go. Because the Jack that I know wouldn't do those things in a million years.”
“Such as?”
“Making me feel that my thoughts and feelings are invalid. We've been together since we were fifteen years old, got married at 19, but something switched in 2022 when his fame went to an entire new level. Our relationship has been tested and I don't know if it's even worth saving at this point.”
Jack turned to look at you in disbelief because he couldn't believe that those words came out your mouth.
“Babe…”
“No. You begged me to come to therapy with you so you need to put your big boy pants on even if it's something that you don't want to hear. Because trying to talk to you at home is obviously not working. You asked for this so don't shy away now.” You told Jack as you finally looked at him. All he did was play with his wedding ring and nod before turning back to look at Fatima.
You and Jack had barely been speaking to one another and it seemed as if the arguments over little things were getting more and more frequent. You were sitting in the living room since you had just fed the triplets as Jack came and sat next to you.
You glanced over at him, but didn't speak as you turned back around to look at the TV. This was the first time you were able to have peace and quiet all day and the last thing you wanted was to argue with him again. Because at this point, you knew that the two of you were not on the same page.
“Baby?”
“What?” You said and it came out a little harsher than you intended.
“I don't want to keep fighting with you. We're on the same team.”
“Are we? Hadn't noticed since it doesn't seem like it.”
“Y/N, come on. You know we are.” He told you as he attempted to grab your hand. He was surprised when you didn't move away from him.
“Some of your actions state otherwise.”
“I want to fix this and I know you do too. I signed up for marriage counseling and we meet the therapist on Wednesday. I just…. We need to get on the same page if we want this marriage to last.”
You turned to look at him and simply sighed before crossing your arms over your chest.
“And if this doesn't work, then what?”
“Babe, that isn't an option.”
“And you didn't answer my question, Jackman. Tell me what will happen if it doesn't work?”
“I don't have an answer because I don't plan on that happening. We love each other and we’re going to get through this.”
“I'm not sure that I want to go.” You told him being completely honest.
“Can I ask why?”
“If you can't even listen to me when we're at home, what makes you think it'll be any different in therapy?”
“Y/N, you're shaking your head as Jack is talking. What are you thinking?”
“He remembers that a lot differently than I do. I told him not once, but multiple times that she made me uncomfortable, but he steadily ignored me. So much so that he actually asked her to be in his video for First Class.”
“But, you're in it, are you not?”
“Yes, only because I stopped what I was doing when I saw her post a picture of the both of them on Instagram and she was sitting in his lap.  He claimed that she took the pic so fast that he didn't even have time to react. I went to where they were shooting the video and told her to leave and made her delete the picture. Oh, and when I actually did fight her because this had been building up for months with her constantly harassing me, never not once did he ask me if I was okay. Instead he acted mean as hell towards me because the only thing he seemed to be concerned about was our reputation in the public eye and not my actual well-being. We were both at home for a few days after which ended in another argument and him leaving.”
“But you left out the part where you had talked to me the same day that it happened and said absolutely nothing and tried to hide it. I was in a whole different state when I found out and caught a flight to Atlanta to confront you about it because you had stopped answering your phone. There was no need to lie to me about that.”
“Yes there was because I knew you would lose your shit which you did when you came and saw me backstage before my show.”
“Because you could've gotten hurt!”
“Hmm, nice try. I think you meant damage your reputation because those words didn't even come out of your mouth when it happened.”
“Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean that I want any harm to come to you. You're my wife! Why would I want you to put yourself in a situation which could lead to you getting hurt? That's what I was mad about.”
“Wouldn't have had to be in that situation if you would have established boundaries with her from the beginning. I'm your wife. We share a last name. Not her.”
Therapy had been going steady for the first three weeks and Jack simply didn't know how to feel at this point. He wasn't able to read you as of lately and had it in the back of his mind that a divorce would be coming soon and you would be the one to ask for it. 
And that made him sick to his stomach.
When you were pregnant, it seems like everything was halted and the two of you put your issues to the side. But as soon as they were born and you had healed from it, everything had come back up to the surface. It also didn't help that Jack knew you were also going through postpartum depression.
It was one in the morning and he had gone for a drive after checking on you as well as the triplets and making sure all of you were okay. He didn't have an exact destination in mind, but he simply pulled out his phone and took a deep breath before dialing his mother’s number. He was absolutely desperate at this point.
Maggie picked up on the third ring and he could tell that she was still wide awake by all of the background noise which he assumed was the TV.
“Hey honey, everything okay?”
“No.” 
When Maggie heard how distressed her oldest child sounded she immediately grew concerned.
“What's going on? Are Y/N and the babies okay?”
“They're fine, but umm…” Jack trailed off as he struggled to say his next sentence.
“But what?”
“I honestly think deep down that Y/N is going to divorce me and I… can't live without her. I haven't had to do it in so long that I wouldn't even know where to start. She's the love of my life and the mother of my kids. I can't lose her.”
“What exactly makes you think that she will?”
“We're going to therapy but there's such a huge disconnect that I don't think we'll be able to fix. She didn't have high expectations going into it so…”
“Can I be honest?” Maggie asked and took a deep breath after doing so. However, Jack had a strong feeling that he already knew what she was about to say.
“You saw this coming, didn't you?” Jack asked as he turned onto Bardstown and was casually driving throughout the city.
“Yes from a mile away. I don't know what exactly happened, but 2022 was the start of the rift being made in your relationship with each other. And I've pulled you aside a few times and warned you that how you were acting wasn't a good portrayal of the person I raised you to be or the husband that I know you are towards Y/N. That girl basically worships the ground you walk on and you used to do the same thing. The fame got to you and you were starting to achieve your goals and she was supportive of you. You didn't give her the same support in return and now look where you two are.”
“What do I do to fix this? I need her to forgive me.”
“Then you need to remind her of how much you love and care about her. Because your actions haven't reflected that you do.”
“And what if that doesn't work?”
“Then you'll be signing divorce papers.” 
“Definitely can't forget how he thought I was cheating on him and he actually followed me to see what I was doing.”
“I apologized for that. I was paranoid. I had been gone a lot and missed you.”
“What did Y/N do to make you think that she was cheating?” Fatima asked Jack as he once again started to play with his wedding ring.
“Not spending time with me like she said she would when I finally got back home and she would lie about where she was going so I followed her.”
“And what came of that?”
“She was planning a surprise party for me because First Class had done so well. And she then explained who every single person was that she had met up with. She was just trying to keep it a secret as best as she could. But the day of the party unbeknownst to me of course, I confronted her about it and the look she gave me was utter disbelief and I then knew that I had fucked up. She did show up eventually to the party and then went on her festival run and left that same night.”
“Y/N, is that how you remember it?”
“Yes, I just couldn't fathom that he thought that I would ever want to do something to hurt our marriage. I haven't looked another man's way since we started dating and I still don't. He's everything that I ever wanted and more so what would be the point of that? It just really hurt me. I have this man's name tattooed on my body for everyone to see so why would I do that?”
“I can tell by the way you're talking about it that it still hurts you.”
“It does and the thing is that I am always putting everyone else's needs before my own. I have a big heart and that has always been the case. But I feel that Jack used that to his advantage.”
“How so?”
“If he called and said that he needed me, everything else would be forgotten at that moment. It doesn't matter anymore and we can go back to it once I go and make sure he’s okay. It didn't matter that I was trying to establish a career of my own. If my baby needed me, nothing was going to stop me from getting to him. It didn't matter how big or small the issue was and he knew that.”
“Hmm, Jack, what are your thoughts on that?”
“Now that she said it out loud, I can admit to taking advantage of her as horrible as that sounds. I never want to do that to my wife. I would call her because I know that out of anyone at the end of the day she has my back and my best interest. However, I also should have taken into consideration what she was trying to do for her career at that time because I was the one who pushed her to do it and make a name for herself.” 
“And I still put people's needs before my own. It's something that I have to learn to stop doing. That also takes me back to the whole Anitta thing.”
“What about her?”
“She threatened to release a portion of our sex tape in May and Jack didn't even tell me until December. That's when I called off the wedding, when I found out he lied to me.”
“Jack, why didn't you tell her?”
“I thought I could handle it on my own and simply make it go away. I wanted to shield her from that since a lot had happened between the two of them already. Not the smartest choice since it led to us not doing our big wedding for our five year anniversary.”
“And then I went on tour and found out I was pregnant…. With triplets.”
“And told me in a text message because we really weren't talking during that time.”
Urban glanced at you as you were feeding Autumn and called your name to get your attention. He had come over to check on you because you hadn't been acting like yourself and wanted to see if there was anything that he could do to make it better.
“Lil Bit.”
“Yes?” You answered as you looked up at him.
“Are you and Jack okay?”
“Depends on what your definition of okay is.”
“I… the two of you just seem sad and out of it lately.” Seeing his best friends’ marriage crumble before his eyes was not on this year's bingo card.
“Well we started going to therapy and Jack practically had to beg me to go. I don't know, Urban. I love him and we all know that's true. But the question is if our marriage is worth saving at this point?”
“Only the two of you are going to be able to answer that question at this point. I can't answer that for either of you. But I know that Jack loves you all the same and that he's doing everything he can to show you that he deserves another chance to get this right. He doesn't want to lose you.” Urban told you as you simply nodded and adjusted Autumn in your arms.
“My thing is that it should have never come to this.”
“I agree, but what's done is done and the only thing that the two of you can do is move forward. The triplets deserve to see a happy marriage between their parents and know what real love looks like.”
As soon as those words left Urban's mouth, it got you thinking that maybe he was right. You honestly couldn't see yourself with anyone except him despite all the two of you had gone through that year.
“But so much has happened and I… just don't know anymore.”
“You know that you love him. I know that loving someone isn't the only thing you need in order to make it work but it's a good start.”
“As the two of you sit in front of me, I've heard the good, the bad, and the ugly when it comes to your marriage, but I know one thing for certain. The two of you undeniably love each other despite everything that has happened. Yes, there were hardships and plenty of ups and downs, but Y/N, every time you even talk Jack lights up and looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Usually in this room, it ends up being the complete opposite because by the time that couples get to me they are too far gone.”
She glanced at both of you and it looked as if you wanted to say something.
“Y/N? What's on your mind?”
“Um, I was just thinking that because of everything that happened, I wanted to separate from him for a while.”
Jack didn't dare let you see it, but tears had pricked his eyes.
“But, I have decided not to. If he's doing all of this and trying to put the effort in then I guess I can give him another chance. Because when I had suggested going to therapy and doing things to hopefully help us repair the relationship, he just waved me off. I feel as though this was too little too late but…”
“Y/N, it wasn’t too late because the two of you are sitting in front of me. That goes to show me despite it all, deep down you still had hope for your marriage too.”
“I have three kids to think about.”
“No, that's not it. Even though they deserve to see what love and happiness looks like, you also deserve the same thing. Jack, how does that make you feel hearing that Y/N wanted to separate from you?”
“It hurts. I've been in love with her since I first laid eyes on her. I know I've messed up and I can understand why she feels that way. I wasn't treating her how she deserved to be treated and it shouldn't have taken me almost losing her to realize that. She died in front of me not once, but twice. But I had already made it up in my mind that if I became a widow, there was no way in hell that I was marrying someone else.”
“And I'm not totally innocent either, but at one point I was damn near walking on eggshells and I shouldn't have to do that in my marriage. And you could have married someone else. I would not want you to be lonely for the rest of your life.”
“No, because I would always compare her to you and when it comes to you, no one comes close.” Jack said as he turned to you and took your hand in his.
“Besides, I was also scared that you were probably going to haunt me if I did.” He told you and a small smile broke out on your face. 
“So with that being said, I have homework for the two of you. If you want to start to repair this marriage and make it work, start dating each other again. It seems like ever since the triplets have been born that the two of you actually haven't spent time with each other with just the two of you. Let me know how this goes and I honestly can't wait to hear about it.”
The night was winding down at the Kentucky State Fair as you and Jack were sharing a funnel cake piled high with powdered sugar and strawberries. The two of you rode so many different things and decided that it was time for food before it was closing time. A few people had asked you and Jack for pictures, but for the most part they were keeping their distance and you almost felt normal. You guess it was the fact that they saw the two of you out and about so often. 
As the two of you were eating, you looked at Jack and giggled, noticing that he had powdered sugar on his nose.
“What? Why are you laughing at me?” He asked as he pinched your cheek.
“You have powdered sugar on your nose.” You told him as you wiped it off and then kissed the tip of it making him smile.
“Did you want anything else before we leave?” He asked and your eyes lit up as you looked towards the pigs that were across from the two of you. Jack followed your gaze and his eyes went wide.
“Baby, NO.”
“But….”
“I meant food wise! We have two pigs already! And the ones over there are huge! They're bigger than me!”
“Exaggerating much? Can't I just look!? Piggy Smalls and Pork Chop need a sibling.”
“They have one in the house already as in the bacon I ate this morning.” Jack replied as he began laughing.
“JACKMAN!”
“You can look from here. Now didn't you say you wanted fried oreos?”
“Yes, but you're forgetting something.”
“What's that babe?” He asked as he fed you the last of the funnel cake and made sure to get all of the powdered sugar off of your face. 
“You haven't won me a stuffed animal yet.”
“Let’s do it then. Which stuffed animal do you want?”
“The pig since you won't let me buy another one.”
“The two of you are smiling, so I take that as a good sign.” Fatima said as she looked at you and Jack and she that the two of you were basically sitting on top of each other and nodded.
“So, the dates went well?”
“Yes, we went bowling, he took me to the state fair, and we went to Vincezo's. We also had a cooking date where we made pasta from scratch. Surprised that Jack lived to tell the tale after that one.”
“HEY! I thought I did pretty good!”
“I mean it did end up being edible so I guess.” You told him as you laughed and he scrunched up his nose.
“We've come a long way. The two of you came to me about six months ago and Y/N was ready to call it quits. And now look at the two of you. Communicating how you should and taking the time out for each other. Just because you have kids doesn't mean you two and your well being gets put on the back burner. As of now, we can continue these sessions if the two of you want, but I truly don't see a need.”
“Oh, there was another thing.” Jack started to say and Fatima looked at him to continue.
“I played her ‘Down on Bended Knee’ because I feel that it summed up the point that we were at in our relationship. I was desperate and willing to do anything for her to forgive me and make her see that she is still the only person that I want to do life with.
“That’s an amazing song choice. I know you were at a loss. Dealing with her dying in front of you, the birth of the triplets and the possibility of losing your only son, the miscarriage, Y/N working her way through postpartum depression and that isn't even all of it. But the two of you pushed through all of it with the undying love that you share between each other and I'm so proud of the both of you.”
“Now, I feel like I can finally get the big wedding that I always wanted.” You said confidently as you twirled your wedding ring around your finger not knowing that Jack had already started planning it in the back of his mind.
Jack noticed how you were looking at him as the two of you were laughing on your first date night in a while since the two of you had been so busy with everything going on around you. The triplets were with Urban and the two of you had finally finished going to marriage counseling, however, Fatima told the two of you to reach out whenever you needed her no matter how big or small. 
The two of you were still seeing your regular therapists and it was helping you communicate better with one another to set up to have a positive household environment for the triplets.
“Why are you looking at me like that baby girl?” Jack asked as he stole a sip of your iced tea and then slid it back across the table.
“Nothing. I’m just really happy.” You said while smiling back at him.
“Why, is it because I rearranged your guts this morning or? I mean I can do it again once we leave here too, it’s not a problem. Just say the word.”
“Jackman! Shut up!” You responded and continued to laugh.
“What? I was just asking.” Jack said as he shrugged.
“You want me to be honest?” You said while starting to play with the fabric at the bottom of your dress.
“Of course I want you to be honest with me. That’s all I ever want.”
“I’m trying to think of the best way to describe it.”
“Take your time, sweetheart. We have all night.”
“Loving you feels lighter.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked as he was trying to understand what you were saying.
“I just feel that before with all that we were going through, I felt a heaviness I guess I should say. Every day I woke up not knowing if our marriage was going to survive and I hated having that feeling. I wanted for us to be okay again.”
“And now we finally are. And I’m thankful that you gave us another chance.”
“I mean you got me fucked up if you thought you were getting rid of me that easily. Been together since we were fifteen and love like that doesn’t go away overnight.”
“I never want to get rid of you, you know me better than that. If anything, my love for you continues to grow every single day. It doesn’t matter if we have a bad day or not. It’s just knowing that I have you by my side makes it all worth it because I know we’ll do anything for each other and make sure that the other is okay. No matter how big or small the issues might be.”
“Okay that will be the second time you made me cry today.” You said as you could feel the tears in the corners of your eyes.
“Don’t cry, baby! I’m just being honest. I honestly don’t think there’s enough words in any language on earth that can describe how much I love you and care about you."
"Yep, now I'm crying." You said through your tears and Jack immediately grabbed your left hand to kiss the back of it as he played with your wedding ring.
"Putting this ring on your finger was the best thing I've ever done and you have my heart. Always."
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sweptawayghost · 1 year ago
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In Dreams Pt.1
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PAIRING: Joel Miller X Reader
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Joel Miller is down bad for the first time in a long time. After him and Ellie arrive and settle into life in Jackson, Joel is itching to get out. He becomes your patrol partner but he could be so much more if you give him the chance.
Hello!!! 
This is my first time writing any kind of fan fiction so please be nice. I'm a huge fan of The Last Of Us and a major Joel Miller apologist. God, I love that man. Lots of Joel's inner thoughts. NO USE OF Y/N. W/c 4.1K
Anyway, I wanted to write a series and I had a hard time laying the groundwork but baby I got dirty things brewing. No warnings for this one but I will mention any trigger points in the future. Anything Written like this {Italic} indicated Joel's inner thoughts
CHAPTER WARNING: Mention of male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, Age gap
Joel Miller was down bad. 
He found himself wondering how far too many times. He was sure he'd sworn off love and romance but then there you were. With your toothy grins and your warm palms. Eyes that made him feel safe and seen. 
Your laugh filled his ears and swelled his heart. He would do anything to be in the same room as you, he would move where you move, he would go where you go, He could listen to you talk about anything and nothing as long as you kept looking at him and laughing at his jokes. 
He wishes he could tell you right now how badly he wanted you. He wishes he could let you know how important you were to him, how he would move mountains if it would make you smile. 
He hoped you would see how much Ellie loved you.
Joel saw the spark return to her eyes thanks to you. He loved that you cared about her so much, as if she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world. 
How you fed her, brushed her hair for her. You happily opened your home to her when you knew Joel would be gone for a night or so just to make sure she wouldn't be alone. 
There were just certain things that Joel couldn't provide for Ellie. But He knew you could. He wanted you to be in her life regardless of how he felt for you and how you felt for him. How do you feel about me? 
///
He sat with Tommy in the Tipsy Bison one fall afternoon, the sun was sinking down behind the hills, the cool breeze whipped and swerved around the town centre. The Trees with their many hues of orange hung lazily ready to be whisked away.  
The town prepared for the cold months that were to come, fixing and unblocked gutters, salted and jerked meats, pickled and preserved anything they could. prepared the garden beds in the greenhouses for new crops to come, pulling weeds and turning soil. It didn't feel rushed or urgent, it felt like a normal town, on a normal day, in a normal world.
Joel and Ellie had all but settled into Jackson by now, not like they had a lot to unpack when they arrived. He remembers one of the first nights they had come back. The feeling of the hot water on his skin made him want to cry. He had a chance to wash away all the blood, all the grime, the sweat, the shame, the guilt, the tightness in his chest and the pain in his heart. 
Tommy had handed him a large crate when they arrived. Soaps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, Conditioner and shampoo in solid bars, lip balms, razors. Simple items that were worth more than gold. Most of the items were handmade and imperfect in shape which made them seem even more special. Someone made this for you. 
There were also a number of clothing items given to them, shirts, pants, socks and underwear, jackets, even a few dresses that Ellie all but discarded in the back of her wardrobe. 
It felt odd to be given so much when he had taken so much. 
Stop thinking about it. 
 he wanted to make himself useful, he didn't want to sit still anymore, he wanted to move, to distract his mind. He started to worry about what Jackson would do to him in the long run. Would it take off his edge that kept him and Ellie alive all this time? What would happen if it burnt to the ground? He didn't want to put Ellie through anything more than she had already had to endure. 
He felt naked without his pistol glued to his hip, exposed, vulnerable. He wasn't used to people smiling at him on the streets, raising an arm to wave or finding cooked meals or small gifts on his front door step. Those first few weeks were a lot to adjust to. He wondered how Ellie was handling it. She seemed closed off and quiet. She's worried about fitting in. Joel thought to himself. Teenage girls are still teenage girls after all. 
///
“So your patrol partner…” Tommy sat looking from his glass across the table at his older brother “ you’ll like her, she's a bit rough around the edges at first but she's got a good head on her. She just weary of people '' Tommy spoke with a small smile on his lips but drew his eyes back to his glass. As if thinking back on you with fond memories.
Tommy had taken Joel out for the first few weeks. He had learnt the ropes quickly, to be honest there wasn't much to get, it was straight forward and it was what Joel was good at. He knew the job wasn’t for everyone but he knew he was damn near built for it. 
He wasn't particularly worried about getting a new partner, he and his brother worked well together. The communication was little but clear, a nod of the head, a knowledge of the others limits, no need to make small talk and comfortable silences.but damn did Tommy know how to get on Joel's nerves. 
He was more worried about whether his partner would crumble under pressure. If they would make stupid moves and get one or both of them killed. What would happen to Ellie? 
“Is that your subtle way of tellin’ me she a bitch?” He raised an eyebrow at his brother. 
“Some would say” is the only reply he was offered
Some would say. 
But Tommy wouldn't. Good sign.
“She aint real good at small talk either” Tommy mumbled from the rim of his glass before he sipped back the amber liquid. 
“She’s good quality” a smile hung from his lips “she’ll just say some shit that’ll catch you off guard” 
/// 
He woke up with a tightness in his chest. Like he does most mornings. As the soft glow from his window floods his room he stills the thumping in his chest, rubbing small circles to alleviate the ache.
He sits up and lets reality wash over him. It's okay.
It feels wrong to feel safe. 
He went about his normal routine he had set up for himself, any distraction from the nightmare he awoke from. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. Coffee was a non negotiable, even the instant stuff was doing it for him these days. He slowly opened the front door, ultra aware of the creaks of the old home he now called his. He found himself thinking about the family who lived there before him. Stop 
Stepping onto the front porch with socked feet. He let the steam of the coffee swirl around his face as he inhaled the chilled morning air. Seeing the street lights glow softly as the morning creeps over the hills. Jacksons main street was a few blocks over and he could hear soft murmuring of people start to make their way into the mess hall for breakfast before starting their daily assignments. It reminded him of before. 
He could almost imagine that the last 20 years were just a really bad, really vivid dream. 
The sounds of a neighbourhood waking up to begin their day. The sound of gravel crunching in the distance, a soft yell from the other side of main street, the sound of his neighbours walking around the upper level of their home. All once familiar sounds to Joel. All sounds that now feel alien. 
He let his chin drop to his chest and began slowly moving it from side to side to relieve some tension, noticing a large hole in one of his woollen socks right at the big toe. The padding on the heel is also threatening to split open any day now. 
Moments like this were scary for Joel. moments of silence. Moments when he could let his mind wander because he didn't have urgency at his back, he wasn't being chased down the street by a horde of infected or being shot at by a group of raiders, he wasn't doing supply run with the threat of a QZ guard blowing his head off if he got caught and he wasn't lying in the woods wide awake all night to make sure Ellie was safe as she slept a few feet away from him.  
No. Joel Miller, for the first time in a long time, was safe. 
His attention snapped up quickly when he heard a slam a few doors up from him. He let the goosebumps run down his spine as the thought faded from his mind. 
///
When Joel arrived at the gates of Jackson to meet his patrol partner he wasn't expecting… Well, you. You greeted him with a simple nod of your head and handed him the reins of a horse. He looked down at your extended hand, small cuts and scrapes that covered your skin, they looked soft but worked. He grabbed the reins from you and let his eyes jump to yours. 
In the low morning light, your face serious but soft, your eyes beamed up at him. You were younger than him, a hell of a lot younger, that much he could see. He wondered what you'd be like out there. What kind of person is he stuck with for the next few hours?  Would you run at the first sign of trouble? Or worse, someone who wouldnt shut the fuck up and would rather spew bullshit then sit with the silence. 
“You a decent shot?” His voice came out low almost like a whisper, all thick with sleep that still lingered in his lungs.
You gave a small huff as you turned to mount your horse and only looked at him, without saying a word. 
You made him a little nervous. This he could admit to himself. He couldnt put his finger on it right away but as you continued on your patrol that day he started to work it out. You had already checked out the weapons and saddled the horses before he reached the gates that morning, You had taken the lead on the trails, you didn't offer him your hand or even said hello for that matter, You hadn't spoken a word to him full stop. Did you think you were too good to talk to him or give him the time of day? Did you think he was incapable or stupid?
Incapable. Useless. Ineffective. No, surely not. You were just some girl, what did you know about me? 
As these thoughts swamped his brain he became overly aware of every move he made, any noise he made, he felt like he was under a microscope with you.
 Every now and again he would feel you looking at him as you slowed to ride beside him, he tried to catch your eyes. It made him sweaty, uncomfortable and restless. Why are you so nervous? Why do you care if she likes you or not? you're working together not getting married.
Neither of you had made an attempt at small talk. He didn't even know your name until you had been out for several hours and that was only because communication was mandatory at that moment. 
“Im Joel by the way” He offered you. The response you gave was only a look that said yeah I know dumb ass
That was the last time he tried to talk to you. You made him feel small and like his presence was unnecessary. He was meant to be the stoic one, the quiet one, the protector, the one who takes the lead, not some girl 30 years younger than him. 
Tommy had been right, you had a good head on your shoulders and while your silence unsettled him to a degree he did feel safe, you weren't distracted and you weren't distracting him. Right?
He didn't like being the one on the outs as much as he would protest that he didn't care and didn't need people to like him. For some reason he wanted you to like him. He wanted you to talk to him at least. 
The rest of the patrol was uneventful. You were good, he did what he could although he just felt like a supporting act to you. An odd feeling stirred in his gut when he looked at you. Everytme he let his eyes wander over your form he noticed small details.
Your cheeks were flushed as the cold afternoon wind whipped past you. You were swimming in the sweater you wore, small mended patches where you had repaired holes in the ageing fabric. The way you would adjust your backpack periodically, cracking your back in the process.He liked the way you smelt when you walked close to him or when the wind changed in his direction. Small things. He wondered what you would notice about him.
You still held a stony expression as you approached the gates of jackson. While he felt relieved to get out of your presence he also wanted to look at you more. He wished he could pause you just to study your expression. 
You held your expression when you looked up at him. He looked back blankly at you before he noticed you had extended your hand out in front of you towards him. He glanced down at your hand and then back to your face, he shot you a confused look.
“The horse” you gesture with your eyebrows and a small tilt of your head towards the reins that he still held. 
“Unless you wanna hold hands” you said with a small smile on your face. She smiled at you
He handed the softened leather rein to you, he looked back at you and returned a lazy grin. You turned and began to walk towards the stables with a horse on either side. 
“Do you need help getting back or do you think you've got it under control?” you asked him with a slight turn of your shoulder. 
“Im good” was all he could muster with a small crack in his voice. 
But that didn't matter because you smiled at him. 
Joel thought about you as he walked back to the Bison, he couldn't stop the way his lips curled at the corners as he walked, Kicking up dirt and rocks as he went, hands in his pockets and head hung low. He thought about the flutter of your lashes. He thought about the strands of hair that fell in your face when you bent over. He thought about the way the strap of your rifle hugged your shoulder. He thought about the hushed tone of your voice when you spoke to him. He thought about the way you looked at him over your shoulder and the way your cheeks flushed when you caught his eyes already on you.  
///
“How was it?” Tommy had asked him as he honed in on the bowl of stew, he held it close to his chest as if someone would swipe it from him if he didnt. 
“It was fine” was the only reply Joel was willing to give. She makes me feel like she doesn't need me.
Tommy raised his eyes from his meal to peer at his brother. He rested the bowl in his hands down on the table. 
“Really? Just fine” He said it like he was digging for more.  
“Nothing interesting happen that you wanna tell me about?” Joel only raised an eyebrow in place of a reply. 
“Yeah Tommy we had so much fun, we sang songs and picked flowers and braided each other's hair” Joel spat at him with annoyance. 
“No, nothing interesting happened” Tommy’s expression didn’t change at Joel's words, he had a lopsided grin glued to his face.
“It's just that you haven't whipped that smirk off your face since you walked in” 
“Fuck off” 
When Joel woke up the next morning he didn't feel as tired as he usually does, his back didn't feel as ache as it normally did and tightness in his chest felt lighter than most days. His mind felt quieter than usual. The normal shouting and screaming was dulled by miles of distance.
He chalked it up to having something to occupy his time, keeping him busy so his brain had less time to spiral. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. He got his coffee and returned to his place on the porch once again, he absorbed the sounds, the smells, the houses around his own, the sharp feeling of the cold morning on his skin. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. He could hear music, the crunch of stone, the shower running from inside the house, the neighbour walking around the second floor. 
“Morning Miller” the sound of your voice pulling him out of his daydream, He opened his eyes to see you standing at the foot of his porch. 
“You busy today?” 
///
That was the first time you had taken Joel out on a non official patrol. He remembers the sun beaming down on his back and sweat beads forming in his hairline as you walked side by side along the overgrown trail. The pack on his back felt lighter today, The weight of the gun on his shoulder was eased and the throbbing in his feet was a faded tickle. 
He liked walking beside you. He liked the way your hair fell. He liked the way you smelt. He liked to watch the smile grow on your face when you looked at him. He liked the way you looked at him.
“ Why invite me out today?” he asked “given how talkative you were yesterday” 
You laughed and looked up at him. He wondered if he mistook your seriousness for dislike. 
You let your eyes fall back to the trail. Some of the behaviours Joel noticed yesterday returned, you adjusted your backpack and he heard the snap of your spine in the process.
“I'm sorry about that” You winced when you spoke, your eyes lifting slightly from the trail to gauge your next move and secure your footing "In a world where women like me are beaten down, stolen away, used and left for dead…” Joel peered down at you when you stopped, you refused to meet his gaze as you spoke “I want people to see me as a threat before they see me as anything else"  
Fuck
///
Once you arrived back in Jackson you had asked him to walk you home. The idea of spending more time with you made his heart jump and even with the ache in his back returning and a throbbing pain in his knee, he would walk to the other side of the country with you if you asked. 
He followed you up your porch stairs taking in the exterior of your home. It was small, the front steps bowed from years of pressure and use. The paint on the weather boards peeling and faded with time. The elements had not been kind to a lot of the homes in Jackson, Joel had spent a lot of time looking around his own home and thinking of all the things he would do if he had the resources. It didn't stop at his own and soon he was imagining renovating half the town. 
Your front wire door looked like it was hanging on by a thread and one of the gutters that ran down the side of your home was all but rusted out. 
He stopped when he reached the top step and watched you shove the front door open with your shoulder. You dropped your bag to the left of the door and kicked your boots off to the right. He watched you disappear into the house, he could still hear your voice as he approached the front door, not stepping over the threshold but he wanted to get a glance at your home, it was almost like eavesdropping on a secret or reading someone's diary.  
You didn't invite him in but you also didn't tell him not to come in. I'm just looking. 
Old books sprayed out on the ground near the fireplace, balls of yarn and half finished projects laid out on the daybed in the corner of the room. The whole room was lit up in a soft yellow glow from the afternoon sun, it looked like a home, it looked warm and inviting. He could imagine you sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped up around your shoulders, half asleep with a book in your hand or laid out next to the fire, the peaks of your face highlighted in the soft glow of the flames. 
“What are you smiling about?” you asked looking up at where he stood in the door jam. 
“Just lookin” he replied. He felt his palms go sweaty as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't have.   
He looked down at the item you had extended out towards him. You were holding a bottle, the label all but worn off from age and water damage. The seal on the top had been broken and the lid had dents and scratches on it. It looked like it had been used before and once opened used again and again. Take the bottle you moron.
“Thank you” He said as he reached for the bottle “its real nice of you” 
Joel didn't know it at the time but this would be the first of many gifts you would bestow upon him and Ellie. The next thing you would do would be mending his clothes including the socks he was currently wearing.
After that you would be lending him tools and teaching Ellie how to sew ‘a skill that everyone should know’ you would tell her. 
He would come over in the coming days and clean out your gutters before the weather turned and sunny clear days would be consumed by grey skies and rain. He would rip out rotten floor boards on your front porch and replace rusty nails. You would bring him home made meals or fresh bread to which he would invite you in and you would accept without a second thought. He loved how at home you seemed kicking off your shoes and leaving them next to his, throwing your jacket on the back of his couch or hanging it over his. 
He didn't know it now but soon he would be showing you chords on the guitar and swapping books with you. He would be following you out for more non official patrols, sometimes for days at a time, looking for supplies in dilapidated barns and old properties that have been lost to the elements. He would be coming over to your house to drag Ellie home when she was trying to avoid doing homework.
“You need me to help you get home?” a bashful smile laced your face, Joel couldn't tell if you were just flushed from the warmth of your home or if you were blushing. You brushed past him in the doorway and raised your arm with a pointed finger past his shoulder down the street.
Joel’s eyes followed your finger down the street. Seven houses were all that separated you, seven houses and across the street.
“See you neighbour” 
As Joel walked home he couldn't drop the stupid smile that hung from his lips. He slowed his steps as he walked, observing the bottle in his hand as he went. People started returning from assignments to rejoin their families, others turning straight for the Bison in favour of a drink. He listened to distant sounds of children laughing and playing in the streets. The sounds of a neighbourhood filled the air but all Joel could think about was the smile you gave him and the way you looked at him.
///
That was the first night that Joel dreamt about you. It was the first night you pulled him out of a bad dream and you didn't even know it. It was the first night that he went to sleep with your face glued to the back of his eyelids. When he woke up in the middle of the night you were the first thing on his mind. When he closed his eyes and pulled his cock out of his boxers and started jerking himself off he saw your face. What are you doing Joel? He saw your smile and the strands of hair that stick to your forehead. He pictured you laid out by your fireplace with his lips pressed to your neck as you moaned his name. 
Just once, get it out of your system. She’s attractive, I'm only human. It's fine. 
“Just once” he whispered to himself in the silence of his room. 
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hudsonpatootie · 2 months ago
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Magic of Creation
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Characters: Taesoo ma - Lookism
Warnings: none, just a light read.
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“What kind of fairy are you?” That’s the question that came up along with a trend on the internet, where many people wondered which group from Tinker Bell’s fantasy world they would fit into based on their talents and personality. “I have a strong connection with animals, so maybe I’d be a fairy like Fawn,” or “I love cultivating all kinds of flower species, so I’d belong to the group of garden fairies alongside Rosetta.” You, however, never needed to question that—no, no—you knew exactly who you’d be: a tinker fairy.
You threw your phone aside when you read some comments from people saying they would feel disappointed or frustrated being a tinker in a world where you could talk to animals or control sunlight, as if that function were any less important than the others.
-“Screw them!”
That was your answer to those comments. You love your work and hated when someone belittled it, whether in reality or fiction.
-“Did those people not get the message from the first movie?”
As much as you tried to move on, those comments echoed in your mind for several days, you didn’t like seeing craftsmanship being undervalued, because it fed your insecurity regarding the path you chose to follow. It’s hard to pursue a career that’s your passion, but highly underestimated by others.
But luckily, you’re not the only one who appreciates it. Your boyfriend, Taesoo Ma, was always delighted to hear you talk about your profession. When you showed him some of your finished pieces, Taesoo noticed the care present in each one. To him, anything in contact with your hands could be molded into a masterpiece.
Your collection of creations was extensive: cups, vases, mosaics, birdhouses, ceramic items, among many others. After seeing a fox-shaped mug and a mosaic patterned with a pond full of lotus flowers, Taesoo liked knowing that his girlfriend also had an appreciation for nature, and for that reason, he invited her to spend an afternoon on his mountain.
“Many of your works are inspired by aspects of nature, so how about spending a day exposed to it?”
You accepted, you couldn’t refuse that opportunity. Spending a day in the presence of your love, turning off your mind from digital environments and searching for inspiration outside of your Pinterest was everything you needed at that moment.
The hike through the mountain was a unique experience. The landscapes awakened your creativity, the various types of raw materials in front of you made your hand itch to bring some back to your studio, and you mentally sketched everything you wanted to create inspired by the scenery before your eyes.
After settling in an open area, Taesoo began assembling a makeshift camp, something he was already very used to. When he finished, he approached you and was surprised to see you sketching a birdhouse project. The measurements, the sketch, the notes—everything was meticulously detailed. He stood above you, observing as you laid your ideas on paper.
-Oh, Taetae! I didn’t see you there, sorry — you smile — you were right, this place is a well of inspiration.
-Already thought about a new project? — he says, sitting next to you.
-Yes, there are a lot of birds here, so I thought about making a place for them to rest — you say as you pull some tools from your backpack.
-If I’d known you’d brought so many things, I would’ve offered to carry your backpack instead.
-Pff! I may not bring down a wild boar with my bare fists like you, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak. Do you know how many KG of clay I can mold?
-No, I don’t — he gives a small side smile — but I’d love to see you in action.
You sketch a few more details before turning again to the man and asking:
-You don’t mind if I make this to leave on your mountain, right?
-A gift made with your hands would be like having a little piece of you at my home—why would that bother me?
You smile, slightly embarrassed by the man's words. Taesoo’s comments supporting your art were like a lighthouse to your mind lost in a sea of negative thoughts.
After some time writing down everything you’d need to carry out your project and drawing all the details you wanted to include, you stared at the drawing, restless. Your mind began to wander, and thoughts about your future following your profession started to resurface.
-Something bothering you? — Taesoo says after noticing your discomfort.
-Can’t hide anything from you, huh? — you sigh — yes, my head is bubbling with thoughts.
-Go on.
-I’ve been feeling insecure about my profession. Don’t get me wrong, Taesoo, I love art and I feel like I was born for it. But sometimes I think maybe I should’ve kept crafting just as a hobby and not a profession.
-Do you really think that, or did people make you think that? — the man asks, suspiciously.
-I don’t know! Maybe I should’ve gone into a more stable field like medicine or law.
Taesoo sighs as he pulls one of his cigars from his pocket and steps slightly away so as not to bother you with the smoke. He takes a long drag before speaking again:
-You know... when I bought this mountain and built my house here, people said I should abandon it, just use the mountain as a place to spend time and live somewhere more stable and safe, like in a city condo.
-But I didn’t care about that. Life in the city might be more practical. But living there wouldn’t be living the way I want to.
-What I mean is: you should only take another path if it’s a choice from your heart, which I imagine isn’t your case.
— It’s hard, but sometimes the rockiest trail leads you to the most beautiful waterfall.
You had to hold back a tear that threatened to fall, you didn’t imagine Taesoo could be so poetic. Those words were everything you needed to hear. The storm in your mind dissolved and you felt embraced by the sun once again. You realized you didn’t need to focus on a thousand words of disapproval, but rather on just one of support.
-Thank you, Taesoo, truly...
-You’re welcome — he smiles, seeing the relief on your face.
-I don’t know what I’d be without you — you say, approaching the man and resting your head on his shoulder.
-You’d be a craftswoman, okay? A single craftswoman? Yes! But still, a craftswoman - he kisses your forehead warmly, while running his hand along your back, offering you a bit more comfort.
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warriorheart13-blog · 27 days ago
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One Piece Loki x Giant! Reader: From Now On
Im not really reading the manga too much so i had to read his wiki to get an idea on him. But i think this is pretty good. I hope you like it @natchayaphorn !! Gn! Reader with slight fem leaning
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I saw the sun begin to dim
And felt that winter wind
Blow cold
A man learns who is there for him
When the glitter fades and the walls won't hold
You hadn't expected to return this place. Your homeland, which held both fond and negative memories. The Island of Elbaph was where you were born. You were a giant, and you grew up with Prince Loki and Prince Hajrudin.
You loved Lokis eyes, despite the man trying to discourage you. Soon, he fell in love with your kindness. But suddenly, a few years later, he broke it off and sent you away. You went with Hajrudin, sailing as a simple Chronicler.
But after Dressrosas' aftermath, the New Giant Pirates desired to return home. But this is not what you expected.
You stood in front of Loki. The man you once knew was chained and blindfolded. He felt a shell of himself. He knew it was you. He hated that it was you. Loki still loved you.
But he had known what was coming. He had known for a while. That's why he had pushed you away. To save you. But you came back.
Cause from then, rubble
One remains
Can only be what's true
If all was lost
Is more I gain
'Cause it led me back
To you
"Why are you back? I thought you said you'd never set foot again." He said gruffly
"Hajrudin wanted to return. It's not like i wanted to. Loki..." You noticed he flinched at his name.
"Dont say my name. It's cursed. You..." he seemed to be out of breath. That's when you noticed it. The blood.
"You're hurt!! Loki, what happened??" You hurried over to his side. The slashes were deep.
You fed his some food. You knew of the ancient blood that ran through his veins. You had large pieces of meat jerky you had been saving.
"You know i never stopped loving you?" You said softly, wrapping the worst injuries with gauze.
I drank champagne with kings and queens
The politicians praised my name
But those are someone else's dreams
The pitfalls of the man I became
For years and years
"I know. But there's something that's coming. I dont want to lose you to that." He said softly.
"Im not a fragile flower in the garden Loki. Im an Elbaph warrior. I may not be strong, but im one of the best archers." You scolded.
"I know...for the first time, someone saw me as me. It's not a curse. Not a prince. Just me."
"Of course. I know you have a mask to protect yourself. But you dont have to hide with me." Suddenly, you heard Luffy and Zoro in the distance.
"I'll be back for you, ok?"
"Ok. Stay safe Flower."
"Of course. I love you, Loki." You said before disappearing.
"Idiot...i love you too."
I chased their cheers
The crazy speed of always needing more
But when I stop
And see you here
I remember who all this was for
From now on
These eyes will not be blinded by the lights
From now on
What's waited till tomorrow starts tonight
Tonight
Let this promise in me start
Like an anthem in my heart
From now on
From now on
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linos-luna · 2 years ago
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My Queen (Pt. 4) 🔪
Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
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(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3) (Pt. 4) (Pt 5)
Warnings: delusions, Stockholm Syndrome, toxic relationship, yandere
—————————— 👑 ———————————
Gently, Hyunjin braided your hair, adding little flowers and clips, making you feel special. After months of staying indoors, you finally convinced him to go on a date outside, beyond the usual garden or park outings.
It’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just worried about someone stealing you away. As he finished tying your hair, you discussed the day's plan.
"So, first the cafe?"
"Yes, love," he nodded
"Then a walk through town and maybe some shopping?"
"Mmhm..." he nodded, a bit nervous.
"And dinner at the end?"
"Yes, only the best for you, my queen," he replied.
"That makes me happy," you said, turning to give him a quick peck on the lips.
"Thats good," he smiled, the nervousness fading as your affection warmed the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ 👑
You took a sip of your hot mocha, sighing with comfort as you took in your surroundings. It was so nice being out in public. Fresh air and the warm smell of coffee had you feeling good.
It was a chilly day and Hyunjin had you dressed in a skirt with warm tights and boots. While at the cafe, he would be eyeing any and all people in the surrounding area. No one should lay eyes on his queen. No one here is worthy of her presence.”
Due to drinking a large Iced Americano, Hyunjin had to take a bathroom break. He wanted to be quick, but he knew you wouldn’t move.
"Y/n? Is that you?"
You hear a familiar voice and turn around. It was a friend.
"Oh, hi Jihyo!"
"Where have you been?" The girl asked while coming right up to you.
"What do you mean?"
"You've been gone for months! We thought you were kidnapped!"
"Oh I’m okay. I'm not kidnapped. Hyunjin brought me home."
"Hyunjin?” She said with a pause. “That weird guy who likes you? Did he kidnap you?"
"No, he brought me back to the castle."
"The cas— y/n, that's crazy talk! He kidnapped you! He's not right in the head.”
“What do you mean?” You ask with the tilt of your head.
“You’ve been gone for months!” She said frantically. “How could you let him keep you imprisoned like that??”
“Oh no.” You replied. "He's the love of my life,"
"Y/n, he's brainwashed you," Jihyo said, grabbing your wrist.
“How has he done that—?”
Hyunjin returned, glaring until Jihyo let go. "Who is this?" he asked.
"A friend, Jinnie. We were catching up, right?"
"Y/n..." Jihyo spoke cautiously. "We should hang out sometime."
"Yeah? Maybe you can visit." You added excitedly. “Jinnie, can Jihyo visit the castle?"
"I'll think about it," he said.
"Come on, darling," Hyunjin said, pulling you away. "Let's go; I want to get you some pretty jewelry."
"Okay! See you later, Jihyo!"
Your friend watched as the man lead you out. She was incredibly worried. Yeah she was glad you’re okay but she’s also worried about how you spoke. What has he done to you?
~~~~~~~ 👑
“What were you talking with your friend about?” He asked while getting back to the car.
“Not much really.” You said with a shrug. “She’s just been wondering where I’ve been.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that you took me home. Back to the castle.” You said with a smile.
Hyunjin sighed with relief while leaning in to give a quick kiss.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, my love.”’
~~~~~ 👑
After some shopping and him just spoiling you in general, you found yourselves at a restaurant. Nothing too fancy but still nice.
As you waited for your meal, Hyunjin, rubbed your hand and admired the new necklace he'd given you. He had an even bigger surprise planned and was excited. When the food arrived, you felt awkward; you were used to him feeding you.
"Sorry, Love," he apologized, noticing your hesitation. "I didn't mean to make you wait!"
"It's okay, Jinnie.”
Ignoring the curious looks, Hyunjin cut up your food and fed you, even taking care of your drink. It might have seemed strange to others, but they figured it was just a cringy couple thing.
After finishing, he ordered dessert, a slice of cake for you to share along with ice cream.
As you waited, Hyunjin stood up next to you, taking your hand.
“Y/n, my love.”
“Yes?”
“You are the most beautiful and amazing woman ever. No one compares to you, my queen.” He continued. “I wish to spend all eternity with you. I wish to rule by your side forever and ever.”
“Hm?”
After getting on one knee, he pulled out a ring from his pocket, one he had bought earlier in secret. “Will you marry me?”
You covered your mouth in shock. So unexpected! You could feel as the others in the restaurant turned their heads at the interesting scene.
“Of course I will!” You said with a smile, hugging him tight as he stood up. This illicited the surrounding patron to clap and cheer. Believing that this was so sweet.
Some tears rolled down your cheeks as he slipped the ring on. “I love it, Jinnie.”
In this moment, you felt so happy. Surrounded by cheering people and your loving boyfriend— no Fiancé! You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him. The love of your life.
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