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irisintheafterglow · 7 months

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if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom

summary: the strawhats are summoned back to baratie so sanji can cook for a high-class diner. they can't figure out why zoro is so nervous. (opla!zoro x you)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of food and eating, established relationship, pet names (sweetheart, doll, lover, pretty), spoilers if you squint, sanji being himself and zoro having absolutely none of it

note: this was requested by an anon a few weeks ago and i finally got around to writing it!! every time i write for zoro, i have a new favorite fic i've made because he's just so fun to write for. hope you enjoy!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“You know, they’re a lot hotter in person.”

“Shut your mouth, waiter, or I’ll skewer it closed,” he mutters with palpable distaste. Another swig of rum burns down his throat and, for the first time that the crew can remember, Zoro seemed nervous. It wasn’t obvious, but they’d sailed long enough to know that he never stopped surveying a room for threats, no matter how familiar he was with it. Today, though, the only thing that took his attention was the rim of his glass and he was subtly avoiding the eyes of the crew’s target. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve had in a long time.”

“Thank you for your input, Zoro. I will, however, be belaying it,” his captain replies brightly, unfazed by the blank expression of his first mate. The uneasy faces of his crew only makes him beam more, giddily excited for the anticipated challenge. “C’mon, guys. We’ll be fine. They just need to see how awesome we are and they’ll totally give us a new sail!”

“Loud, loud, too loud,” Zoro warns in response to the increasing volume of Luffy’s voice. They were already causing enough of a scene, as is, and he damn sure didn’t want other guests looking in their direction. To make matters worse, the amount of alcohol in the table’s bottle was dwindling too quickly for comfort.

“Hey, if we’re lucky,” Usopp offers, “we might just get a whole ship. You know, maybe one that Captain Usopp can command as the second ship in the Straw Hat fleet.”

“You think we’ll get a whole fleet?”

“Hell yeah. Maybe, we can all captain our own ships–”

“Alright, let’s get our heads out of the clouds,” Nami cuts in. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get over there, in the first place. And just for the record, I’m with Zoro on this one.”

“First time for everything,” he deadpans. She smartly elects to ignore his sarcasm and continues to argue why the plan is a bad idea. The call from Zeff came at an opportune time and during an unfortunate situation when the Merry sailed straight into a torrential thunderstorm that ripped the main sail clean down the middle. Despite their best efforts to patch it up, it was beyond repair; with the Marines constantly on their tail, having a working sail was a matter of survival. Zeff’s reluctant summons for Sanji to cook for a special guest provided a means to buy a new sail and have a little extra spending money. But, in his wildest dreams, Zoro could not have predicted that the special guest was you. The smug look on the chef’s face snaps him out of his thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen, waiter?”

“Shouldn’t you be downing the rest of this bottle, drunk?”

“I’ll smash this damn bottle on your head, I swear–”

“No, no. Zoro has a point,” Luffy agrees. Sanji gives him an odd look and he quickly realizes what his statement insinuated. “Not about smashing the bottle on your head. We need you to bring them your food so then I can go over and talk with them.”

“You don’t think I can charm them on my own?”

“Don’t look so aghast, blondie,” Zoro answers and receives a knife-sharp glare in response. “This is not someone who will entertain your theatrics.”

“How would you know anything about them, hmm? I believe you’re a little too dead inside for their liking,” Sanji baits and Zoro’s on the verge of biting before Nami steps in again.

“Sanji, get in the kitchen. Let’s just get the money and get out of here.” Zoro silently thanks her in his head for effectively ridding the chef of the table for the time being. His gratitude turns into a grimace when she turns to him expectantly. “You’re gonna hate me for asking–”

“Then don’t ask,” he finishes. She doesn’t relent.

“How do you know them? It seems like you’re nervous about being here, but we’ve never met them before as a crew.” Hitting the damn nail on the head. “So, you must’ve met them when you were still hunting down pirates. Am I right?” He grumbles an unreadable response, but the slightly pink shade of his face tells the table everything they need to know. “You’re terrible at covering up secrets.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“Ah, you’ve got him on the run, now. He’s deflecting,” Usopp chuckles, immediately shutting up when Zoro shoots him a deadly scowl. He hated that all of them were right and would never admit it to save his life. After all this time, seeing you still made his heart rate skyrocket and cause his hands to clam up with boyish nervousness. You were just as beautiful as the last time he saw you, instances that were too few and far between for his own liking. Your father would have a fit if he saw you in such an unregulated environment as Baratie, but he knew that you were safe. As long as you breathed the same oxygen, he vowed no harm would come to you.

“I met them when I first started hunting,” he admits and the words felt wrong on his tongue. Every nerve in his body was telling him to stop revealing his relationship to you. It didn’t matter if he’d almost died surrounded by his crew; his connection to you was sacred and something he was going to take to his grave. It was mostly for your safety, the late-night sneaking out and stolen displays of affection. In another life, he wouldn’t have to hide you from other hunters that wanted to see him fall. “Their father is a captain in the Marines. When I first met them, they were training with Mihawk. Their father wanted them to be the most feared Marine in the seas.” The jaws of his friends fell to the table and he knew how wild it sounded, a legacy Marine trained by a pirate lord. “But, Mihawk taught them more tricks than just swordfighting and their father fired him on the spot.”

“He taught them sympathy for pirates,” Nami concludes and he nods. “Why are you so shifty around them?” He shrugs half-heartedly and tries to make it look like his face wasn’t on fire.

“Just haven’t seen them in a while,” he states, zeroing in on the blonde asshole waltzing to you with a plate. Your surrounding guards stiffen, hands flying to the weapons at their belts. You, however, roll your eyes and tell them to stand down. He knew you hated going out with security because they were always watching, watching, watching. “Eyes up. The waiter’s making a move.”

A strange sense of nausea washes over him as he watches you smile politely at Sanji, laughing softly at his jokes and kindly nodding as he explains the dish to you. You trust them, Zoro keeps telling himself. That waiter doesn’t stand a fucking chance. All the reassurances don’t stop his gut from churning when Sanji does his signature lean-down-and-whisper-suggestively into your ear. To his surprise, however, you don’t immediately meet the chef’s eyes. Your attention flicks to Zoro, instead, with a look that he knows all too well.

Please get me out of this.

Despite the protests of the table, he’s standing in an instant and walking with his hands on his swords like your guards didn’t even exist. His sight becomes tunnel-vision on nothing but you and he bypasses your guards with ease. Your shoulders relax when he stations himself protectively behind you, much to the confusion of the chef in front of you. As subtle as he can, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, inching closer until he’s just barely touching your shoulder. It’s small, but speaks wonders for his presence.

“Zoro,” you murmur without looking up, your fingertips brushing against his knuckles. Your touch on his skin after so much time away feels electric.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Sanji stiffens at the term of endearment so easily leaving Zoro’s mouth and you can sense the boost it does for his ego. “Whatcha got there?”

“My new friend was just telling me about the dish he made. He said he crafted it especially for me, with his own hands,” you inform him with a sly sparkle in your eye. His jaw clenches unconsciously. You knew exactly what was going on in Zoro’s mind and he knew it, too. “Apparently, he can work wonders with his hands,” you remark casually and you can hear the chair crack under the force of the swordsman’s hand gripping it. To your delight, Sanji’s face has also taken on a slightly darker shade of red at how crassly you echo his suggestion. And in front of his rival, no less.

“Was he, now?” His tone is lethal and it sends goosebumps up your arms. “Well, it best be time for him to get back in the kitchen, no?”

“Mmm, but he said he had a proposal for me–”

“I had one for you too, though I did ask you in a much finer establishment than this one.” You can’t help the smirk that spreads on your face and you have to look to the side to keep from laughing aloud. Zoro’s jealousy was rearing a very indignant head; you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it a little hot. “Got that stone on your left hand to prove it.” Sanji’s eyes darted to the band wrapped around your finger, a ring that looked suspiciously like the one hanging from a chain around Zoro’s neck. “Give us some time alone, yeah?” His question becomes rhetorical as he pulls out a chair next to you and tugs your seat closer until you can cross your leg across his. His palm rests possessively over your thigh and the chef gapes for a few moments more before turning back to the kitchen.

“That goes for all of you, please,” you order your guards without looking at them, absentmindedly tracing Zoro’s jawline with the back of your pointer finger. “Take my bag and buy however many drinks you want. I’m safe,” you state with absolute certainty. Once they’re gone, all you see, feel, and know is him.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you smile just as softly. “What’re you doing in a place like this?”

“I can ask you the same question, pretty.” His eyes shine with nothing but adoration. You forgot just how much you missed him.

“Took a detour to prolong my time at sea. I didn’t want to go home just yet.”

“Your old man’s being an ass again?”

“You know how he is,” you reply. “Why are you here?”

“Believe it or not, that blonde shithead is my crewmate. We’re here to get some extra Berry for a new sail.”

“Sail, hmm? I always knew you had a little pirate in you,” you tease and he sticks his tongue out immaturely. “Heard you fought my esteemed mentor. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking.”

“You don’t think I can beat him?”

“I don’t think I can fathom what will happen if you don’t,” you say quietly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Don’t do any dumb shit, okay?”

“You’re acting as if I’m already leaving you again.”

“Aren’t you?” Your smile is sad and it makes his chest ache. When he beat Mihawk and killed your bastard father, he was going to give you the life that you deserved.

“Not yet,” he promises. “I don’t wanna go yet.”

“I don’t want you to go, either. How much do you need for that sail?” He gives you a number and you don’t even blink. You just nod and reach into your coin purse, fishing around and deciding to just give him the entire pouch. “Will that cover it?”

“Doll–”

“It’s a yes or no question, husband,” you say with lighthearted sternness. He shakes his head in exasperation but can’t hide the grin painting his features.

“Yes, lover. It’s more than enough.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum in contentment. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. D’you mind introducing me to the rest of your crew besides the flirty waiter?”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n #zoro fluff #opla fluff #ask iris!#one piece x y/n

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months

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I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby headcanons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders headcanon #tommy shelby headcanon #peaky blinders headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic

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anistarrose · 3 months

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I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

#accessibility #image descriptions

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nerdiellers · 8 months

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If Only

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

summary: gojo loves you more than anything in the world. all he wants is to have the opportunity to marry you and have a family with you

cw: jjk spoilers

The feeling of you in his arms. That’s when Gojo Satoru felt at ease most in the world. He didn’t have to worry about curses, curse users, nothing. He could let down his infinity and let you in. Waking up to you every day was pure and total bliss — a feeling he never wants to give up. From going to bed with you every night to waking up to your sleeping form every day.

For once in his life, he felt like he could fully and actually relax so long as he was with you. His time with you mattered as much as his time with his students.

He had plans for the two of you. Despite avoiding giving his clan an heir to follow in his steps, he wanted nothing more than a child with you. He wanted to marry you.

And one day he did. He took you on a walk to a well lit area, got down on one knee, and proposed to you. You had a face full of tears and you excitedly said yes. A grin on his face, he picked you up and twirled you around before setting you down and sliding the ring on your finger.

Despite his clan’s wishes, he held a small, intimate ceremony as he wanted the wedding to be about the two of you. He knew his clan wouldn’t approve of you; you were a normal human who couldn’t see but sense curses. His clan wanted a powerful sorcerer to marry another powerful sorcerer. He thought otherwise. He refused to settle for less than love.

Soon after, you were pregnant with your first child with him. He was ecstatic and made sure to go to every appointment, massaged your hips and back, and even went on midnight craving runs. On days he was away, he’d order them for you.

He absolutely loved it.

The day had finally come once you hit full term — well, the little one was a week late. He was ecstatic. He asked Shoko to deliver his first born child, which she agreed to before she began studying to prepare for the birth.

After 6 painful hours for you (and his hand), your daughter was born. She had your hair and eyes and it was what he wanted in the case that anything were to happen to him.

And the day came. He was fighting against Sukuna. All he wanted to do was go home to you and his daughter. His family.

He opened his eyes and thought to himself: Ah. That’s right. He never married you, never had a family with you.

He felt the blood pool out of his mouth as he thought back on this. A single tear fell out of his eye as he stared at the sky.

The reason for this is because his fears got the best of him and he left one night, blocking your number and leaving you to find your own happiness away from curses.

Away from the world of jujutsu.

Away from him.

tags: @mrsyixingunicorn10 @cinnaa-x @xamilarin @cloudsinthecosmos @rivaiken @vr00m-vr00m @shycreatorsandwich @the-fab-killjoy @yoriichiswife @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @nineooooo @aelynaneedsalottathing @phoenix666stuff @surhii

Epilogue can be found here

Jujutsu Kaisen belongs to Gege Akutami

Dividers created by @cafekitsune

©️nerdiel-has-no-braincells 2023 Please do not copy, translate, and post as your own. Reblogs, likes, and comments are ok with me!

#— ❁ nerdiel has no braincells #jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x you #satorugojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

Text

A LITTLE SUN - SERIES FINALE

rating: 18+

tags: None. No spoilers in my finales!

summary: It's go time.

a/n: Y'ALL. Who knew this ATTEMPTED ONE-SHOT would end up being this fuckin' long and make me fall even deeper in love with the amazing trash panda/rat king Dieter Bravo? It was a labor of love, that's for sure (see what I did there? heh heh). I should note, your girl's never had a baby and I'm pretty sure a bunch of the shit here is inaccurate and borderline unsafe. OH WELL. This is a Hollywood romance type story so suspend your disbelief, k?

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS MEAN YOU LIKE ME AND THAT MAKES ME WANNA KEEP WRITING.

[ ppppsssssstttttt if you wanna be nice and send a broke writer some cash because you like her writing and her stories and they made you happy, the paypal addy is [email protected] because ko-fi is givin me a headache. ]

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

"This can't be happening," you say in the passenger seat as Dieter speeds you both towards the hospital. "He's not due for another week."

"He's a Bravo," Dieter tells you in a tight voice. "Bravo's never fucking do what they're supposed to. It's part of our charm."

You let out an agonized wail as he speeds around the corner, holding your belly as you lurch back. He spins down the highway, honking at passersby. When half the vehicle ends up on the highway you shout at him to drive normally.

When you settle, Dieter presses a button in his dash and your mom's number comes up. You hear a phone ringing in the car and then your mother's voice soft on the other end. There are hospital noises in the background, she’s at work.

"Hello Didi-"

"Hey Mimi," he says breathlessly interrupting her. "It's go time. Our girl's water broke."

"Oh my goodness," you can hear your mother flapping around in excitement. "I'll be there! I just have to get someone to cover my shift! Oh he’s early! I’ll see you soon, loves!"

"See you soon."

The call ends and you're left staring at the man intently focused on driving.

"Did you just call my mother Mimi?"

"Yeah," Dieter says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "It's my nickname for her."

Didi and Mimi? What the fuck? How did he get Mimi?

Before you can question their weird interaction further your hands grip around your middle, the strange stabbing sensation increasing with every mile that passes between the house and the hospital.

Thankfully Dieter gets you there quickly, pulling into the hospital's ambulance lane helping you out of the car.

"You can't park there," a man shouts after the two of you. Dieter gives him the finger before helping you onto the sidewalk. You can barely move and you double over, hissing before you can reach the doors. When you are able to right yourself again Dieter is there with a wheelchair he urges you back into.

"Dieter where did you get this?"

"Some old guy smoking on a bench."

"Dieter!"

"Relax," Dieter insists as he rolls you to the front desk. "He won't miss it."

Dieter feels like he's vibrating. After that emotional decree to you he was certain you'd been striding towards him before you doubled over in pain. But now he's not certain. As he follows the nurse now wheeling you to the private suite he's wondering if it was just wishful thinking.

But he doesn't have time to worry about that right now. You're whimpering in pain, one hand over your belly, the other groping the air next to you.

"Are you Dieter Bravo?"

A voice sounds out beside him but he ignores it.

"Can I get your picture?"

"Why are you here?"

He ignores them all, rushing to the side and grabbing your hand as they wheel you into the large private suite.

The space is beautiful if not sterile. Nurses file in, helping you into a pale pink robe before urging you back into the hospital bed.

Dieter steps back to give the medical staff room but it hurts him to be even this far from you. Your feet go in the stirrups and Dieter feels his heart crack. You look so tired, so scared there in the hospital bed.

"You gotta be gowned up, Dad," a nurse says helping Dieter into a blue gown. A hairnet is forced over his unruly locks and a mask over his face. He feels like he's getting ready for another part in a movie, dressing in costume.

Nurses crowd around you, taking your temperature, urging a device onto your finger. There's chattering, movement like some strange ballet.

"She's already nine centimetres."

"Call Doctor March in."

"Dieter!"

Your voice cuts through the overlapping chatter. He moves through the throng, going to your side, ignoring the huffs of irritated medical staff. You gaze up at him through watery eyes and Dieter feels a swell of indignation rise as he watches you squirm in pain.

“Where’s the fucking drugs?”

“It’s too late for an epidural,” the nurse tells you both cringing. “She’s too far along. I’m sorry-“

“What the fuck? I can’t do it without drugs! I can’t do this!” Your eyes are wide and terrified. You glance up at Dieter. “It’s going to hurt! Don’t make me do this!”

“You can do this,” Dieter insists, his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You could do this in your sleep.”

"I can't do this," you whimper, terrified of what's about to happen.

What if something goes wrong? You've read about losing blood about emergency C-sections.

"You can," Dieter says, eyes big and beautiful. He cups your face in his large palms. "You've got this."

"No, I can't," you insist, eyes watery. "I... I'm not strong enough."

"Baby, that's not true. Who got me on SNL after my DUI even after they turned me down twice?”

“Me.”

“And who got me out of my contract for Hot Ones when I found out the chicken wasn’t organic?”

“M-me,” you cringe as a stab of pain goes through you. You can feel the nurse probing to see how far along you are, but all you can focus on is Dieter’s face in front of yours.

“And who wrangled me out of Russia with only a fake passport and a bad accent?”

“Me!”

“That’s right,” Dieter insists, his voice proud. “You don’t take shit from anybody, baby.”

The doctor swans in, a serious looking woman who spares a brief smile for you and Dieter as she reads your chart.

"Hi Mom and Dad, I'm Doctor March and I'll be delivering your son today."

You both give her a weak greeting before she sits on the rolling stool between your parted legs. Dieter isn't looking there though. His eyes are fixed firmly on your face. Your head is tossed back, your forehead damp with sweat.

"Alright Mom, you're ten centimetres so I'm gonna need you to start pushing."

Dieter watches your face blanch and feels a chill go through him at the terror in your face. You look up at him, tears clinging to your lashes.

Dieter doesn't even think. He toes off his shoes and crawls onto the hospital bed next to you. The nearest nurse shouts at him from behind her mask, hand reaching for him.

"Sir, you are not allowed in the bed-"

"I'm staying," Dieter snarls settling in behind you. His long legs go to either side of you, bracketing your body. You lean back against him, relief flooding you at his nearness.

"Sir, I'll call security-"

"Just let him stay!" You cry out. "Please!"

All of a sudden a pain rips through you, causing you to jerk back against Dieter's chest and give out a sharp shriek.

"Baby's coming," the doctor says irritably. "Nurse, I need you here."

The woman scowls at Dieter from behind her mask. The staff begins talking to one another and everything feels like it's happening too quickly.

"Alright Mom, gonna need you to push."

Your fingers dig into Dieters thigh. You feel like the lights are too bright and the room is too cold and the entire thing is just too… scary. You're brows pinch together in anxiety.

"C'mon baby mama," Dieter urges at your temple. "This is all you. You can do it."

You try your hardest, gritting your teeth and trying to push with all your might. But you can't do it. There's too much noise and chaos and the only thing that's keeping you grounded is the warmth of Dieter behind you.

Dieter feels your trembling body and wishes more than anything that he could calm you with his touch alone. Dr. March is calling things out to you but all Dieter can focus on is the way your eyes are darting around the room, the way your body feels trembling against him.

"S'too much," you groan. "Can't do it."

"You are," Dieter insists, his hand over yours braced on his thigh. "C'mon, I know you can keep going. You're so fucking strong."

"I can't," you weep, your body aching and breathing shallow. "I can't-"

"Who chased me down to the Chateau Marmont and snuck into a celebrity party just so she could return a watch to Cartier?"

"M-me," you groan as another ripple of pain goes through you. Dieter sees the doctor leaning forward, disappearing under your gown.

"And who threw me into a shower to get sober for an interview on her first day?"

"Me."

"That’s right,” Dieter smiles, recalling your first introduction to one another. “Know why? Because you don't take shit from anyone and you're not starting now. You show that baby who’s in charge.”

Something in his voice gives you resolve. You nod, hands going to his knees and bracing. You tilt back as you push, head falling on Dieter's shoulder.

"Push," the doctor commands again calmly.

This goes on for what feels like forever. You straining, pushing and crying out in pain as Dieter cradles you between his legs, ensuring how good you’re doing.

"Good job, good job," doctor March encourages.

“That's my girl," Dieter murmurs proudly in your ear. It makes you want to sob.

"One more big push," doctor March says.

You're exhausted and shaky and you don't want to do this. It wasn't supposed to be today. You had a week. You planned it out. This is all too soon.

"No more," you groan, sweat beading along your forehead. You don't want to let go of your son. Not yet.

It feels unnatural to have carried him so long just to be removed from your body this way. He feels like a part of you, like was always meant to nestle under your ribs. It's like removing your own heart.

Dieter lowers his mask and pushes back the sweaty hair from your face, replacing it with a sweet kiss.

"C'mon baby," Dieter insists, his voice a rasp in your ear. "He's almost here. Our son's almost here."

Our son. Yours and Dieter's.

Despite the frenzy of the moment your eyes drift from the doctors head between your legs up to Dieter.

"Our son," you echo weakly.

He's staring down at you, dark eyes so full of adoration. He's nodding, smiling gently at you.

"Our little boy," Dieter says, kissing your damp cheek. "And we're so close to meeting him baby; you just gotta push one more time. Can you do it for me? For him?"

Yes. You can.

You give out an animalistic growl that turns into a shriek. Dieter continues to hold your arms, murmuring that you're so brave, so beautiful.

"Holy shit I can see hair," Dieter whispers against your cheek, peering over your belly to see as the doctor encourages your son forward.

You give one last guttural scream, arching in Dieter’s arms before you feel that stinging between your legs settle. And then the most beautiful sound in the world - the tremoring wail of your sons first breath.

"It's him. He's here."

There is awe there in Dieter’s voice, his eyes wide as he watches the moment his son is pulled from you. Feels his heart constrict as this tiny boy gives out a shuddering cry for the very first time.

Dieter laughs through tears as he watches his son, gold and puffy emerge, his smile dropping as he views patches of white creamy something over his body.

"Wait, what the fuck is that?" Dieter all but shouts. For a horrible moment he's terrified that it's from him fucking you so deeply last night.

"Vernix caseosa," the nurse says with laughter in her voice despite everything. "Protects him from the amniotic fluid in the womb."

Dieter sighs in relief as the squirming baby is pressed to your bare chest for skin-to-skin contact. Your chest is exposed but for once Dieter isn’t horny. He’s just struck dumb at the sight of this small creature nestling there against your body.

"Hi little boy."

Your son lifts his head shakily, eyes blinking slowly, blurrily trying to take you in. He knows your voice, his face instinctually tilting in your direction. Dieter gazes down at you, tears spilling over his cheeks as he sees the love so clear in your gaze.

"It's you," you whisper down at the cherub-like face of your son.

I'd know you anywhere.

Because you would. You don't know how but the second you see his chubby cheeks and long lashes you just know exactly who he is. You would have known him anywhere. He's a part of you. He's been a part of you so long it's surreal to see him outside, here against your skin on this side.

"Look at all his hair," Dieter marvels. "You were right."

He's tiny with long legs and a thick head of dark curls. His skin is a golden color and his fingers long like his dad’s. He’s got your ears and your toes though, and the sight makes you feel strangely giddy. That’s you in this little body, a small piece of you.

The doctor and nurses murmur at your feet, and you feel relief when one says "all good". No emergency blood loss, no anything. The sound of a pager goes off and doctor March stands.

"Got another delivery down the hall. Must be a full moon or something. Congrats mom and dad!"

"Thank you, Doctor March."

The doctor and most of the nurses file out of the room; leaving only two nurses standing beside the bed making notes on a clipboard before one gently removes your son from your chest. You give a little whimper of protest, eyes going wide.

"Just gonna weigh him and we'll bring him right back, Mom."

You watch them leave, already feeling incomplete without him there against you. You feel tears welling at your lash line.

"He's perfect," you say through hiccups.

You feel as Dieter shifts behind you, gingerly removing himself from the bed. He makes sure to do so slowly, ensuring you're propped up comfortably for when they bring your squirming newborn back.

"You did such a good job, baby," Dieter says, kissing your temple before his attention is drawn back to his son being weighed and measured. "Can't believe he's finally here."

You both watch as your son squirms and grunts during his examination, smiling gently when they lift him up and the tall one announces: "Seven pounds, three ounces and twenty one inches."

Dieter holds back his desire to make a dick joke.

The nurse holds your son clad in a tiny diaper. He looks so tiny in her hands. She prepares to hand him back to you but Dieter looks strangely animated, reaching into your go-bag bag next to the bed.

"Oh shit, I almost forgot. Petra made him this."

It's a tiny blue knitted hat. Both the nurses give girlish awwwww's at the sight of it. One gingerly puts it on your sons head before smiling at you.

"Okay Mom, let's do some more skin to skin and see if he'll eat in a little bit."

Mom. Mom. Mom. You’re a mom.

You're already nodding, arms outstretched. It feels wrong not to have him against you right now. The nurses help to wrap the robe you're wearing around him, almost like a swaddle.

You breathe slowly, taking in every second of this moment. He's so fucking small and his eyebrows are so tiny. Everything is just so little.

His mouth smacks together, grunting as his pink lips strain towards your nipple when they place him on your chest.

"Like father like son," you murmur to Dieter, so quiet only he can hear. He gives a loud chuckle and his son makes a small hiccupping sound in surprise. Dieter’s long fingers trace down his son’s back, marveling at the softness of his skin.

"I'm a Dad," Dieter murmurs, as if it's just hitting him now. His eyes slowly travel over to you, your gaze locked on the squirming infant on your chest. "And you're a mom."

"I'm a mom," you whisper and it feels right when you say it.

You were always his mom, from the moment he began to grow in your womb. You were mom. He'd known it long before you had. The kicks and the flutters. He knew you were his and tried to remind you at every turn.

"Thank you," Dieter whispers, eyes damp. "Thank you for bringing him to me."

"Thank you for helping me make him," you whisper back, the hot tears staining your cheeks. "Fuck, I feel like all I've done lately is cry."

Dieter and you share a laugh while the nurses call out that they'll be back to check on you three in a little while, pointing out the call button beside your bed if there's an issue.

They close the door to the suite behind them and suddenly the room is quiet, save for the sound of your son grunting against your chest as he gets comfortable.

"I want to be his mom."

"You are," Dieter says with a smile as he grabs the chair next to the hospital bed, his large palm resting on his son's back lightly when he settles back.

"No I mean... I want to be in his life. I want to see him every day. I want to help raise him."

You see the way Dieter’s body jerks as if he's been slapped. He stares over at you, eyes wide.

"You do?"

"Yeah," you sniffle. "Is that okay?"

"Are you kidding me?" Dieter is leaning over you gently, kissing you so soundly you whimper.

He pulls back, but not before giving a gentle kiss to the top of his sons head.

His eyes search yours, the sweet chestnut color softening the longer he looks at you. He brushes the hair from your face, thumb lingering on your jaw.

"That's all I've ever wanted."

The sincerity is there in both his expression and his husky voice. He means it. And suddenly guilt is the emotion that overtakes you, almost surging through your veins.

"I feel so guilty," you say, overcome with emotion. Your son makes a little squeaking noise before settling.

“Why, baby?”

“Because I closed myself off to everyone. Even him.”

How could you have ever thought of giving your son away? How could you have imagined he was nothing but cargo to be bartered? You kiss the top of his head, hoping that a lifetime of love will make up for months of apathy.

"I think losing my dad just made me so scared of loving someone else," you sniffle, kissing your son's downy head. "I mean my dad was a part of me. And now-"

You look down at your newborn son. The scrunch of his face as he yawns and you think that you've never seen anything quite as beautiful before.

"He's a part of me," you say softly. The tears fall down your cheeks without effort. "And he's the most perfect thing I've ever seen."

Dieter gazes down at his son. "He really is."

"I thought if I could just separate my feelings I could do it, you know? I could walk away unhurt. But then..."

You break off, but Dieter is riveted. "Then what?"

Your eyes blink furiously.

"That day I saw him for the first time I knew I couldn't walk away. I knew it. But I told myself I had to. That I couldn't stay attached."

This hurts Dieter. Knowing that it was months of this personal torture hurts him in a way that makes him breathless.

"Why, baby?"

"Because losing something you love breaks you. It takes a piece from you that never comes back." You rock your son gently. "And I've never loved anything as much as him. Even before he was here."

You’re trying in vain to hold the sobs back now. Your son makes a frowning face, lips smacking together once more before you falls back into his drowsy slumber.

"And I'm scared," you whisper. "Terrified, actually."

Dieter suddenly understands it all. The loss of you father, your inability to cope, your need for control and order. He sees how this challenged all of it and his heart shatters. Dieter runs his hands through your hair, pressing kisses to your cheek as he gently soothes you. You're crying, eyes squeezed shut.

"It's okay to be scared," Dieter murmurs against your ear. "I'm scared too."

You're exhausted and sore and emotionally wrung out. But that doesn't stop you from smiling gently up at him, hand going to brush the tears clinging to his lashes.

Soon the emotional and physical exhaustion comes in, lulling you into a slow slumber. Dieter watches the two loves of his life sleeping, both making the same little nose scrunches in their sleep. He sees so much of you in his son, the curve of his ears, the full of his upper lip. It makes him feel warm and contented.

You haven't confessed any long standing love for Dieter, but now that his son is here and you want to be a part of his life it doesn't matter. You'll be near him and that's enough for Dieter, even if that's all he can have. You'll be the most amazing mother and he'll support you any way he can. Of course it's been a draining day and he feels his emotions spinning off in all directions, but with a rosy hue of compassion.

Of course it hurts that you likely don't feel the same for him.

Images of Dieter and a toddler son dressed in suits dance across his exhausted mind. You under an arch in a wedding dress, leaning down with a smile and arms open as you son toddles down the aisle towards you. You marrying someone else, but with Dieter's support. Dieter doesn't look forward to the day you find your future husband, but he'll support it.

Love always felt selfish for Dieter. A way of staking claim: mine. But this love feels different. He just wants you happy. That's good enough for him.

One of the nurses comes back a short while later and you're still dozing with your son sleeping on your chest. One of the nurses pushes in a bassinet on wheels.

"Gonna put him in this so Mom can get some real rest," one of the nurses tells Dieter in a hush. "Do we have a name yet, Dad?"

"No, not yet," Dieter whispers back. "Can I put him in it?"

"Of course," the nurse says happily. "You know the correct hold?"

She shows him how to correctly hold the newborn supporting his neck and his spine. Then she leaves giving him a quiet congratulations.

Dieter looks down into his arms, rocking the small child - his son - gingerly as he begins to blubber. The tears slide down his nose and one lands on his son's bare belly. He twitches in his sleep before yawning and blinking up at Dieter.

And he feels it pass between them, this ancient sensation of home, of lineage, of love. Dieter thinks of his own father and his ambivalence. He can't understand how he could have ever walked away from his own creation. He stops crying long enough to see his son give a flash of a smile and then fall promptly back to sleep.

"You have your whole life ahead of you," Dieter tells his son, going to stand at the window, looking out into the sunshine filled day. "This world is just yours to conquer. Me and your Mama are gonna be there every step of the way."

You stir in the bed when you hear Dieter’s gentle rasp from the other side of the room. Your eyes flutter open to see him holding your son by the window, rocking him.

"Gonna give you everything I didn't have, gonna spend time with you and play catch and all that good dad shit."

You giggle gently at this, drawing Dieters attention your way.

"Did I wake you?"

You shake your head, watching with adoration as the man you love comes walking back with your son. You think Dieter has never been as perfect or as beautiful to you as when he’s holding your son safely in his broad arms.

"He needs a name," you murmur, watching your dozing child. "Where's your list?"

"Up here," Dieter says tapping his temple with his free hand before looking down at the slumbering infant in his arms. "But... Now that I see him, none of ‘em fit."

"Hmmmm," you purse your lips in thought, watching as Dieter carefully places him in the bassinet. The two of you lean over, watching your son in mild awe. A thought occurs to you.

"My mom doesn't know what room we're in."

"Oh I already texted her," Dieter says. "She's stuck in fucking LA traffic of course. She should be here soon. Lemme check.”

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out and dropping his keys in the process. He picks them up and the keychain makes a soft clinking noise. The baby stirs in the bassinet, kicking out his tiny legs and tilting his head in the direction of the keys.

Dieter grins, holding them above his son. You see the green Jameson bottle from Ireland hanging off of it. You both look on as your tiny son’s fists tap against the enamel item, sending it spinning.

“He’s got good taste,” Dieter grins. “I’ll have to take him when he’s older.”

“Much older,” you say with mock warning.

The keychain spins again as the baby attempts to grip it with his tiny fingers. But he can’t, it’s much too early for that kind of coordination. The name of the brewery glints in the light and then like a flash you both meet eyes over the bassinet.

"Jameson." Dieter breathes with a crooked grin. "James."

"James Bravo.”

The two of you smile so widely your faces might break.

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s perfect. Hello James.”

Dieter and you gaze down at your son who’s now grown still, sleeping deeply.

“Now we just need a middle name," you say quietly as the two of you sit staring at him.

"What was your dad's name again?" Dieter asks quietly after a beat. "Michael, right?"

You slowly gaze up the length of Dieter, seeing the soft way he's looking at the baby and then over at you. Something swells behind your sternum.

"Yeah, Michael."

"That's a nice name," Dieter nods before smiling down at the squirming infant. "A good middle name for our son."

Our son.

Affection hits you like a ton of bricks in that moment. The fact that he remembered your dad's name. The way he calls Jameson your son as much as he is his own. The way he loves you so fucking ardently, the way he wanted to take care of you even if you didn’t feel the same as he did.

You think of this past year with Dieter, all the ways he showed her loved you, the way he protected you. You think of nights in his arms, laughing with him and the way you don't want to be without him anymore. You stare up at him from the bed, taking in the sleepy edge of his eyes, the tussled hair, the full mouth. He's fucking beautiful. How did you miss it this long?

You don't want anyone else. You just want him.

"Will you marry me?" you whisper without thought.

Dieter blinks over at you, eyes rounding and for a moment you tense. He's made it clear that he cares for you but maybe this is too much too fast. You haven’t exactly been forward with how you feel about him until now.

"You wanna marry me?"

"Yeah," you say smiling dopily up at him. "I do."

Dieter lets out a little sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp and before you can say anything more his broad palms are on either side of your face, holding you there so that he can kiss you soundly before pulling back, looking concerned.

"Might be the drugs," he worries.

"No drugs remember?"

"Might be post birth delirium."

"I don't think that's it," you assure him, thumb stroking the patch in his beard that doesn't grow. "Might be because I've never had someone care for me like you do. Might be because I don't want to be apart from you or our son. Might be because I'm madly in love with you and have been for a while now. Might be because I’ve never loved someone the way I love you."

Dieter feels like his heart is expanding so rapidly it might crack his ribcage. Seeing you there in the bed with your hair disheveled, your face flushed and your eyes starry and soft as you gaze up at him, Dieter feels an almost incapacitating sensation of adoration for you.

You're so rarely soft with anyone. Because of this he knows what you've admitted is monumental for so many reasons. Tears spring to his eyes, and his smile is watery.

You picked him. You want him.

He clamors into the bed next to you again, pulling you into his arms gingerly. His mouth is pressing against yours again, wet eyes squeezed shut. He holds you with the kind of care and affection he has always shown you.

"Fuck yes I'll marry you," he whispers against your lips.

You giggle against his mouth when he kisses you again and the sound hits him everywhere.

"I want you to come home with our son as my wife and I want to make you two the happiest people alive."

He melts against you as your arms wrap around his neck, fingers trailing in the curls at the base of his skull.

"I love you, Dieter."

He whispers his love for you against your neck, rocking you. You let him kiss you slowly, mouths moving languidly. You sigh as he dabs his tongue against yours before he abruptly pulls back.

He pushes back from the bed, gaze suddenly distracted. It startles you.

"Diet-"

Before you can even finish his name he's taken off, his crocs slapping against the hospital floor. Then it’s just you and James in the suite, shaking your head with a laugh.

"What is your dad up to?" You ask the sleepy baby in the bassinet. You turn back to face the doorway, heart leaping when you recognize a woman in scrubs strolling by.

"Mom!"

Your Mom is already sobbing when she runs into the room and you expect her to make a run directly for the baby. But instead she’s going to you, holding your face in her hands and kissing your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, the fucking traffic-“

“It’s okay,” you assure her. “Dieter was and he was wonderful.”

“He’s early,” she comments, eyes flitting to the bassinet before going back to you.

"Just like his dad, he has a flair for the dramatic," you grin. "Couldn't wait until his due date."

“How are you feeling?”

“Good Mom, I promise,” you say, smirking at her frazzled expression. Your mother takes a deep breath, nodding. She shrugs off her jacket before going to scrub her hands in the sink. She comes back over to you, her eyes wet.

“I’m so proud of you. Your dad would be too.”

You let the tears fall again, accepting that this is just what you do now, you cry all the fucking time. Your mother stands next to the bed, holding you around the shoulders and rocking you like she did when you were little. You cry into her shoulder, overwhelmed and hormonal.

“So do you want to meet my son?” you ask sniffling.

Your mother’s eyes alight to the bassinet before drawing back to you.

“Your son?”

“My son,” you confirm, chin wobbling. “Your grandson. Jameson Michael Bravo. James for short.”

And now your Mom bursts into tears, thick fat ones that pour down her cheeks. And you know she’s not crying for James, or for the beauty of this birth. She sniffles heavily before going over to the bassinet. She sees Jameson's shock of dark hair and you watch her melt.

"Oh he's beautiful."

“You might be a bit biased.”

"I am," she laughs.

The two of you are still laughing when Dieter returns to the room slightly out of breath, a young man in tow. When he sees your mother he waves and pulls her into a tight hug. You watch the two of them embrace, still shocked at their closeness.

"Mimi! Perfect, we need a witness."

You realize now that the young man Dieter urges over to your bed is wearing a collar and holding a bible.

"Dieter, why have you brought a priest here?"

"He just gave last rites to some guy on the other floor," Dieter explains with a wide beaming grin. "I told him about you and me and he said he'd be happy to perform the ceremony right now."

Dieter is absolutely lack of impulse control personified.

You're about to answer when you hear the sound of your mother's voice.

"No, no, no," your mother tuts, shaking her head. "You are not getting married in a hospital ten minutes after giving birth."

Dieter gives her imploring eyes. "But Mimi-"

"Didi, you and my daughter got pregnant, hid it, gave birth and are now engaged." Your mother lists these off with sharp clarity. "I beg of you, let me have my way with this. I only get to be mother of the bride once."

“Okay,” Dieter relents, understanding that perhaps this is a fair compromise.

He debates something for a moment before taking your right hand. The claddagh ring he bought you is tight thanks to the pregnancy, but it finally slips off. He slips it onto your left finger, heart facing out.

And so the wedding is postponed for six months.

(If you’re honest, you’re pretty relieved. Getting married wearing a sweaty hospital robe while your vagina healed wasn’t exactly your idea of a dream scenario.) It takes about that long to move all your things into Dieter’s place and to get life sort of under control.

Being together as a family of three is better than you could have ever imagined it. You’re both fucking exhausted and unwashed for the first few weeks, but it doesn’t matter because you’re doing it together.

Watching Dieter as a father makes you fall in love with him in a completely different way. Watching as he carries your son in his arms, gently swaying him after being fed.

"He smells so good," he murmurs.

Dieter is as much a parent as you are, insisting that you did the heavy lifting for the last nine months and that he should do his part. The first time he tells you this after changing and putting James back down at 2 am you suck Dieter’s cock so well he almost cries.

Your mother all but moved in the first three weeks insisting that you’d need her help. As much as you wanted to deny this, Dieter had been excitedly setting up the guest house for her before the offer was out of her mouth. Roach free.

You definitely get on each other’s nerves for the following months, tired and grouchy at times. Petra and Magda are there and like to give advice. Sometimes you take it; sometimes you and Dieter roll your eyes at one another.

But mostly you grin stupidly at each other and kiss like you’re in high school. You love kissing. He’s so sweet and gentle until he’s licking into your mouth and grinding against you on the couch. Dieter doesn’t want to rush you into bed after the birth so it’s you two months post partum who tackles him during James’ nap time and rides him, telling him he’s “such a good Daddy.”

Dieter is in heaven. That’s the only way to describe it.

“I love you,” you murmur in the mornings when he brings you over a smoothie. He always kisses you slow and sweet before replying.

“I love you too, baby.”

This love, this free flowing mutual adoration incapacitates him at times. It brings him to his knees knowing that his love is returned in equal measure. His phone is full of covert photos he’s taken of you with James. His favorite is the one of you passed out on the couch. You’re wearing only your panties and socks. Your hair is unkempt and James snuggles against you, both back lit by the early morning sun.

He wants to show everyone the photo, wants to tell everyone proudly that this is his son and soon-to-be-wife. But you’ve made it very clear that while Dieter is fine with the spotlight, your son will not be until he’s old enough to choose it.

He shares only one photo on his social media announcing the birth. One of Jameson’s left foot with the caption: He’s finally here.

Diane approved it.

You’re relaxing in the tufted chair in the nursery, feeding James when an alert comes through on your phone.

Bravo spotted looking at engagement rings.

Oh right. You still have his name flagged for alerts.

You smile a little to yourself as you read the article about Dieter travelling all over California in search of the perfect ring. Your heart races even though you know very well that you're getting married shortly.

There's another alert ding on your phone and you see it's a text from Mia.

[3:21pm] MIA: Congrats lovebirds. I knew he'd get his shit together eventually. So happy for you both.

You grin widely.

You didn't expect to find such deep affection for Mia, but you can't help but love her. After all, without her you may never have truly faced how you felt about Dieter. And from the stories Dieter has told you over the last few months, Mia may have been instrumental in the two of you getting together in the first place. It’s what prompts you to reply with a photo of you and James snuggling.

[3:22pm] Any chance you feel like taking on the role of godmother?

You and Dieter had talked about it; he’d been worried you’d think it strange. But it hadn’t felt strange at all. It had felt somehow right that she be a part of James’ life.

[3:22pm] MIA: Thought you’d never ask.

The wedding is an intimate one of less than fifty people. Your dress is over the top and exactly the kind of thing that Dieter imagined you in. Your son is done up in the tiniest and most elaborate baby tuxedo you’ve ever seen. You both cry all the way through your vows as your mother sits with James in the front row, a picture of your father beside her.

The wedding takes place in a sweet little village in Chile where Dieter grew up. It’s where his parents met and where his mother is buried. He has a few relatives there who insist on helping with everything.

Dieter isn’t expecting the emotions that come flooding back. Ones that take his breath away when he sees the photos of his mom still hung in his Aunt’s house. The ones of him missing teeth, arms around her and a look of absolute contentment in his youthful features.

“She would have loved you both so much,” he whispers as the two of you stare at them.

“I know, baby.”

And just like when he took your hand and led you through that sea of paparazzi, you take his hand and do the same. You guide him through the first few days where he feels emotionally raw and strangely quiet. You lead him through the days of family reunion and wedding planning. And finally you take his hand and walk with him to the graveyard where his mother is buried.

He takes his son from you, kissing his tiny nose before kneeling in front of the tombstone. He places a hand on its marble surface and he lets the tears fall.

“Mama this is your grandson, James.”

Not long after you return home Dieter is called to do online press for a franchise he’s been signed on for. One that will keep him filming locally for the next couple of years. The interview is being streamed on Tiktok Live, much to your amusement as you watch from home, reclined with a sleeping James on your chest.

Dieter sits in one of the chairs, looking remarkably handsome as the interviewer asks him questions from those that pop up in the comment section. The viewers at home would never have known he’d been covered in baby puke only hours before.

“Mr. Bravo thank you so much for coming out.”

“My pleasure,” Dieter smiles. You sigh at how handsome he is just existing. Your eyes draw down to the comment section that pops up, many of them causing you to giggle to yourself as you read them.

He’s so fucking hotttt Hit my line, Daddy, plz SPIT IN MY MOUTH Is he wearing a wedding ring??? I love his hair SHUT UP HE’S SO HOT. I’M EATING DRYWALL I have thots

“There’s a lot of frenzy from the comment section,” the interviewer says, shaking her blonde hair from her face and reading some of them out loud.

“User3766 wants to know: will you be wearing the cape that others have donned in the past for the same character?”

“Nah, I’m not a cape guy,” Dieter says shaking his head. “They seem a bit overdone.”

“That seems to be the consensus online,” the woman says with a nod and warm smile.

“GlitterPonyz asks: Why did you choose to be in this franchise after famously telling the world that after Cliff Beasts you were done with franchises altogether?”

“Because the filming takes place mostly around California which means I get to be home to my wife and son most nights,” Dieter says with a crooked grin.

"So the rumors are true?" The interviewer asks.

"Yep," Dieter smiles with a slight blush to his cheeks. "She'd have been Mrs. Bravo a long time ago if she wasn't so damn stubborn."

At this he winks playfully at the camera before the interviewer dives into more questions. You can almost feel Diane rolling her eyes in frustration off-screen.

"Dieter!" You groan with a pained laugh at your phone.

So much for waiting to share the good news! At least your mother knew about this one before the rest of the world.

Jameson stirs slightly in your arms, still sleepy and warm after swimming with auntie Madga and Petra all morning in the pool. He smells like the coconut lotion you rubbed into his pudgy arms and face and you inhale, sighing.

You compose a text to Dieter.

[11:02am]:You said we were gonna keep it quiet! [11:02am]D: Couldn't help it. Wanted everyone to know you're all mine.

You send a photo of Jameson that you took earlier.

[11:03am]: He says he's worried he'll be fatherless once Diane gets through with you. [11:03am]D: Nah. She told me she understood. [11:03am]: Really? [11:04am]D:Yeah. Said that a child and a wife could only help my image.

You laugh to yourself. You take another photo, this one of you and the baby in frame, you smiling up at him.

[11:05am]: We miss you. Xo [11:05am]D: Can't wait till I get home to you both. Shouldn't be too much longer. Love you baby mama!!!!! [11:05am]: We'll be waiting for you, baby. Love you more Xo

Your mother comes in smiling and carrying a cup of lemonade for you.

"So he couldn't keep it a secret," your mom says with an affectionate shake of her head as you tell her about the video.

"Silly boy."

She says it with a mother's fondness.

She takes Jameson from you, citing that she needs some time with her grandson as if she doesn’t already see him three times a week when she visits. You don’t mind at all.

Most of your days are taken up with James. Baby classes, hiking, swimming and more. Your education isn't going anywhere, but time with your son at this age is fleeting. You like that there's not that pressure to perform anymore.

When you do return to your studies after Jameson’s’ first birthday it’s for your love of learning, not because of some pressure you’ve put on yourself. You do a course once a semester online, just to keep yourself sharp for when you decide you'll return full time.

On days when you really have to study Dieter takes Jameson out to the park or for ice cream and you can hear him whispering "Shhh we have to be quiet so Mama can study and get even smarter!"

When you’re not doing that, you’re on the board for Dieter’s charity funding medical procedures in developing worlds. Something you find yourself so passionate about and as Dieter commented you spend his money well.

Award shows still have you on edge. The screaming and the flashbulbs always have you gripping Dieter, but he is always there with a hand at the small of your back, never letting you go. Sometimes if Dieter has to film overseas and you miss him even after hanging up with him, you watch old interviews or old movies with him in it. You can’t help but giggle every time you see him. When you watch The Rogue Heiress you giggle and send him off a photo of you pointing at the screen and winking. His response is immediate.

[9:07am]D: Missing your favorite sausage?

“Bravo!” you say with a light chuckle.

“Bwavoh!" A tiny voice echoes behind you.

Your son comes toddling towards you, his large eyes full of mischief just like his dad. His hair is your color, but it’s got those wild waves like his father. No matter how much you brush it, it’s still impossible to keep looking tidy.

"No, no baby," you say gathering your son into your arms and giggling. "That's Papa. See him?"

Jameson nods and claps at the screen where a serious looking Dieter frowns at his colleague.

"Papa!"

Jameson is three when you and Dieter decide to renovate the main bedroom. Now that your Masters is done and your attention not as fixated on it you want something a little more ‘you’ in the space and Dieter is more than happy to oblige. He’d tear down the whole thing if you wanted to.

You’re both midway through pulling out things from the big closet when he hears your muffled shout from the back.

“What the fuck?"

Dieter looks up to see you laughing.

“Why do you have an old camcorder in here?"

"I used to use it for.... Adult sleepovers," Dieter tells you with a sly grin. "When we wanted to...immortalize the moment if you will."

"Oooo," you give him a flirty wink. "And when was the last memorable performance captured?"

Dieter squints his eyes as he folds a blanket, trying to recall. "Uh, some blonde guy I was seeing for a bit. Ryan something."

You're immediately taken back to the time you walked in on Dieter with the hot guy blonde man with his head between Dieter's legs.

"Was he blonde with facial hair by any chance?"

"Uh, yeah," Dieter looks at you curiously.

You feel your thighs clenching tightly together. Dieter doesn't miss this and a mischievous smile crosses his features.

"You wanna watch it, baby?"

"I mean, Jameson is at Grandma's all night" you say with a cheeky grin. "Why don't you go get this hooked up to the television while I pop some wine?"

"Sounds perfect."

“Oh my gosh we look so young!”

“It was only four years ago, Dieter.”

“Yeah, but look at my hair.”

“Ugh, look at mine.”

“I love it.”

Dieter pulls you tighter to him, practically onto his lap as you watch the two of you drunkenly move onscreen.

"My name is Dieter Bravo and this is my assistant," he slurs as he motions to your wobbling frame attempting to stand beside him. "And we're making this video because we're gonna make a baby together."

You tilt towards the camera, your eyes half closed.

"And I want it on-on-on record," you stutter. "That I'm getting three hundred thousand dollars for this baby he's putting inside me right now."

You point to your stomach as Dieter nods blearily.

"We're so fucking drunk," you say with a laugh as you and Dieter sip your wine. "It's a miracle we didn't pass out before we got to the bed."

"I'm half convinced you picked it up from the toilet seat at this point, Christ. Did I just fall?"

You look back just in time to see Dieter tripping over himself onto the ground before jumping back up as if nothing happened.

"Okay, let's make the baby now," Dieter says, taking your hand in his.

"Okay!" You nod, walking with him towards the bed a few steps away.

"Left the fucking camera on," you say with a roll of your eyes. "So dumb."

"Too excited to get to the good stuff to remember things like turning off cameras," Dieter grins, fingers trailing down your spine in the soothing way he knows you like.

When you see Dieter sit on the edge of the bed and pull you into his lap you can't help but flush.

When he grabs your face and drags your mouth to his you're shocked to see how easily your arms wrap around his neck. This is further compounded by the obvious sight of your tongue slipping into his mouth, causing you both to groan onscreen.

You and Dieter hold your breath as you watch the screen. Despite it being yourselves only a year ago it feels strangely voyeuristic to watch these two morons kiss sloppily on the bed.

Suddenly you pull back, cheeks flushed and panting.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Yeah," Dieter nods, looking excited. "I love secrets. And I'm good at keeping them. No one knows that Hugh and Taron fucked the whole time on-"

Dieter pauses, looking concerned.

"Oops, wasn't supposed to say."

You're only half paying attention because apparently undoing your strappy shoes is a struggle at this point. Dieter sees this and flops to the ground, tugging at them. You glance down at him with a smile when he finally unravels both.

"Tada!"

You give an exaggerated clap at if what he's done is truly remarkable. Dieter shifts into the center of the bed.

"So what's the secret?"

"My secret is I have a crush on my boss," you say with a drunken giggle as you kick off your heels and crawl towards him.

"Really?"

"Yeah." You draw your face to his. "But don't tell him."

You situate yourself on his lap, hips rolling against his.

"Okay I won't," Dieter agrees, his mouth chasing yours before he suddenly stops, eyes wide. "Wait, I'm your boss!"

"Oh right," you say, pulling at your shirt and giggling.

"Well well well," Dieter says from beside you on the couch his mouth on your ear. "Looks like someone had a crush on their boss the whole time."

Your cheeks burn as your drunken self makes this proclamation. You can’t stop watching as the two of your younger selves continue on.

You struggle with your bra for several moments as Dieter tugs off his clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

"Fuck you have nice tits," Dieter slurs as he leans back into the pillows.

"Yeah? I like em," you say proudly cupping them, running your fingertips over them until they're hard little buds. "Wanna touch em?"

"With my mouth."

"Okay."

“Still got nice tits,” Dieter says, hand slipping up your t-shirt. You sigh, leaning back against him and feeling as his palm cups your breast.

You keen onscreen, head tilted back as Dieter licks and sucks at your nipples before Dieter pulls his mouth from you.

"I like you," Dieter says almost shyly as you sit in his lap. He's holding you there, naked and waiting and instead of fucking you, he's looking into your face, utterly entranced. "I've liked you for a long time."

Your drunken self obviously isn't one for heartfelt remarks because as Dieter admits this, you have a mischievous look in your face.

" Do you touch yourself when you think of me?" You ask in a slur. It's not visible due to your positioning and the angle of the camera, but you can see that your hand goes to grip his cock and begin to stroke.

"Yeah," Dieter whimpers, eyes on your hand and then back to your face. "All the time."

You grin, your hand pumping him quickly. Dieter's face goes slack, eyes half closed as he leans back on his hands.

"Y-you gotta stop," Dieter grunts. "Or I'm gonna f-fuck, gonna come."

Your drunk self shrugs at this before you raise yourself up only to slide down his twitching length all the way until your cunt is nestled in the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Immediately his arms are around you, holding you as your hips move against his.

You sigh, head lolling forward as Dieter whimpers.

"Wanted to fuck you for so long, Dieter."

Even in his drunken state, Dieter looks shocked at your murmured admission.

"Yeah?”

"Yeah," you nod, wrists on his shoulders. "Ever since I saw you with the blonde man... I just .. oh fuck, right there... Fuck... Ever since I saw you with him I couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to ride your cock."

"Fuck," Dieter groans, mouth kissing down your sternum. "You're riding it so well, baby."

"Wanted to bounce on it," you say breathlessly.

Dieter makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

"Fuck, bounce on it," Dieter all but begs, gazing up at you face. "Bounce on it for me now."

You do, sliding your feet to either side of his hips. You arch back, sliding up his glossy length before sinking down onto it. You do this several times and with each pass Dieters moans get louder. You tits jolt with every bounce.

You are not immune to Dieter's cock lengthening in his sweatpants under you.

"You're so fucking big," you groan, hips rutting against his.

"Keep talking," Dieter all but begs as he starts to fuck up into you. "Keep going, baby, I'm so fucking hard right now."

"Wanna do this all the time," you groan, arms behind your neck, stretching lazily above you, showcasing your body, your tits, your sensuality.

"Fuck, you do?" Dieter pants, his hand going to caress your ass as you roll your hips.

"Uh huh," you nod, your rhythm increasing as your arms go around his neck. "Wanna do this every night and then go out for pancakes."

"I love pancakes," Dieter enthuses. Your head moves towards his, eyes half open.

"So we'll get pancakes?"

"Yes, baby," Dieter promises, mouth finding yours.

You give a satisfied hum as his arms go around you and he gently maneuvers you onto your back. He holds your hands on either side of your head, fingers laced as he gently sinks into you.

He groans when he watches your head tilt back into the pillow, exposing your throat and your tits.

"Dieter, it’s so fucking good," you groan as your head tilts back, eyes closed. "How do you feel so fucking good?"

"You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, eyes transfixed on your rolling breasts.

His hips drive into you now, but it's slow and tender. Your thighs flex slowly around his middle. You're soaked, practically dripping onto his sheets. Your eyes are open, glossy and gazing up into his face.

"Never knew it could feel this good," you murmur up at him.

"It doesn't usually," Dieter grins down at you. "You must have a magic pussy or something."

"Christ," Dieter mutters, holding a hand over his eyes in embarrassment.

You've been hiding your face in your hands, humiliated at everything showing up on the screen. But at Dieter’s admission you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Magic pussy, Dieter? Really?”

“I swear I’ve never used that term before.”

The two of you continue writhing slowly against one another on the screen for what feels like forever. The sounds of your kissing and your moans flooding the room.

"You close?" Dieter groans, tongue coming to lick your neck.

"Uh huh," you nod, your hips starting to rut against his in earnest. Dieter still holds your hands pinned to the mattress as he drives himself up into you, his movements still slow and measured.

"C'mon baby," he encourages. "I wanna feel it."

"Yes," you breathe, hips rolling against his. "Fuck yes, I-"

You've never watched yourself orgasm before. The sight isn't anything like porn. You don't make cute little faces or noises.

You arch almost violently, brows knitting together as you make a stuttering cry in the back of your throat. Dieter fucks you through it, eyes transfixed.

"Fuck baby, yes, just like that. Oh fuck, come for me."

You shudder around him, your voice cracked as you cry out his name. Dieter kisses his name from your lips before he begins to piston in and out of you, grunting your name before he too follows. His body shivers as he finally empties himself into you.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, panting heavily and gazing into one another’s eyes. Then he dips his face to yours, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. He pulls slowly away from you, averting his eyes as you pull on your dress.

You roll onto your side, facing Dieter. Your arm goes around his neck, and to Dieter's obvious delight, you kiss him gently. Then you spin around, facing the camera once more with your eyes closed and a little smile on your face.

"Goodnight," Dieter says, pulling your back against him.

"Night," you reply back with a yawn, snuggling back into his embrace.

The two of you lay like this for a moment and Dieter raises the remote, about to turn the video off when you hear his voice on the recording.

"I hope we made a baby," Dieter murmurs, eyes closed.

You smile, hand going to cover Dieters at your waist.

"Me too."

The tape continues on with the two of you sleeping. After a minute Dieter turns it off and the two of you lapse into a thoughtful silence. You’re still in his lap and you tilt your head to face him, seeing his eyes damp.

Your heart hiccups at the realization that you both wanted each other long before you could even understand it. Your mouth finds his, and it’s not long before the moment is heated, his hand crawling up your shirt again.

"Fuck baby, I need you," Dieter groans, tugging your panties off. He stops for a moment, hand groping in his sweatpants pockets for a condom.

“Don’t,” you say, hand coming to rest over his. “Let’s do it without.”

You’ve been thinking about it for a few months now, surprising even yourself. You thought you’d never want to be pregnant again, but thoughts of a dark-eyed girl with a dimple in her cheek have been there in your dreams as of late.

“Really?”

“Thought we could do it properly this time,” you tell him with a soft kiss, arms around his broad shoulders. “Baby showers, Lamaze classes, being in love at the same time and all that.”

You wait for his decision, nibbling at your lower lip. Dieter beams, holding you tightly to him and marveling that you’re here, still as in love with him as he is with you. He kisses you sweetly, mouth curled into a smile.

“I mean it’s unconventional but I’d love to give it a shot.”

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

a/n: Thanks to everyone who loved Bubble as much as me.

One thing I do wanna address is that I wanna make it clear that women do not have to have children to be a family. You can be a family with just your partner. I also don't believe in shaming those who chose to remain childless (I'm the president of that club) or women that choose to have them (thank you! I love being an auntie!)

Okay, that's a wrap folks - onto my next tale!

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

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officialdaydreamer00 · 5 months

Note

Dear Star Child, if this letter could see it's way to Idia Shroud, I would be most grateful. If you could get the gummy sharks to Idia I would be very happy, but the rest of the sweets are for you ^w^

Dear Idia Shroud,

Wow, it has been a while since I've written a letter that's not for school. Nvm, I have never written a letter outside of school; guess I'm finally putting that knowledge to use… Oh where to to begin, I'm rlly bad at doing the whole social thing yet if you would let me I'd be yapping on for eternity but luckily this is a letter and I have to condense it.

Well, Happy New Year! How the sale going? From what I can see into your world it looks amazing especially Ortho's gear. I'm always so impressed that someone was able to make a robotic body that ranged in movement-- here it feels like we just barely started to touch on robotics here, yet you are designing outfits for Ortho like it's nothing. Honest question, did you bless me with luck for the gacha or something did you know I fell like right when the clock hit midnight or someth, but srsly getting three SSRs without even indenting on getting them is something? I had to get a blessing from you or something. My irl would say that is a blessing from you… they have said "At this point I'm scared your obsession with Idia will transport you into the game" well I do wi Imagine if that happened? I don't even know what I would do? I think I would miss my friends but idk if they would miss me.

ANYWAYS, thats sad, moving on. I could have actually missed all of this I could have been boring and sad and still stuck on my utdr phase. Though it wouldn't be too bad Undertale and Deltarune still have th- WAIT YOU ARE A PURE SOUL-- FREE FROM UNDERTALE SPOILERS. Well I know whats happening if I ever get isekai'd. Gosh I would love to actually sit beside you and watch you play games. It's almost fascinating watching someone who is good at games play… Ehe.. I rlly don't know how to end this? Thx for existing please continue to do that.

P.S. Rlly srry for an typos, I wrote this at like 3 am cause I woke up n couldn't go back to sleep.

~ Your moonlight

(HELP ITS 4:30)

oh I LOVE THE BLUE THEME!! had a bit of oopsie delivering this letter but it's all good!! ( ^-^)/ *

Hey Moonlight.

Ugh nvm that sounds cringe please ignore that-- You know I'm not good with this thing either, so I'm gonna ramble if you don't mind. (I hope you don't or it'd be so embarrasing hhhhhhh)

I guess because of our worlds' differences that you'd find Ortho's gears impressive. I mean, I still do, and he's my brother now, he's gotta have the best tech to accomodate his needs. Your world sounds lowkey slow if they haven't even scratched the basics of robotics yet. Still I gotta hand it to them for making a kinda gateway connecting our worlds together.

YOU GOT? THREE?? SSR CARDS OF ME??? IS THAT WHY I KEPT FAILING GACHA EVENTS?? BC MY LUCK WENT TO YOU???? /j but congrats ig. Hope my cards been helping you through the game(?) By the Sevens, that is so weird knowing that I'm just a game character in your world.

But anywho, ignoring that blatant spoiler of fandoms I've never heard of before, for some reasons, I don't exactly mind having someone like you playing games with me beside Ortho. Maybe it'd be easier to breathe than going out and socialise with normies ugh.

Help how do I end a letter Happy New Year, may you be blessed with luck through the gacha system ig.

Idia Shroud

tags: @identity-theft-101 @twistwonderlanddevotee @ameleii @vioisgoinginsane @cave-of-jade

remember to reblog if you enjoy my works!! ^-^

#irene's writings ♡#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #idia shroud #twst idia #twisted wonderland idia #idia #idia shroud x reader #twst idia x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud fluff #letters from the stars 🌠

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astarion-approves · 9 months

Note

Ahh okay so I've never actually requested anything before ever so this should be fun. You know the scene where Tav hugs Astarion and it lasts for like .2 seconds before they pull away? I was wondering if you could write something where either the hug lasts longer bc Tav just doesn't want to let go or where Tav just keeps hugging Astarion for the smallest little things. I just need to hug him more that hug was not enough. Also your writing is so freakin good and cute and I love them all sm <333

Astarion x GN! Tav - Forever

Tags: Hugging, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Blood Drinking, Established Relationship, Drabble, Soft Astarion, Short & Sweet, Some Spoilers, Act One spoilers, gender neutral reader, 400+ words (very short.)

Read below or on AO3

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

“Mh. You’re so warm…” Astarion whispers into your ear, his arms wrapping around you tighter, your head resting against his shoulder as he holds you. “I can never get enough of this… Of you.”

You sighed softly, choosing not to reply and simply allowing yourself to live in this moment with him. A hug, one that you never wanted to end.

Weeks ago, you hugged Astarion for the very first time. The vampire was stiff then, unsure of how to react and what to do with his hands… But he returned the hug, allowing himself to melt into your arms and welcome the embrace.

Now, it’s all he asks for.

He strokes his hand up and down your back, massaging you through your shirt with lazy little squeezes. His eyes are closed as he inhales your scent, breathing deeply, and allowing himself to indulge in everything that’s you.

Little kisses across your neck and down your throat, sighs of nothing but content as he gives in to your scent and he sucks gently at your skin.

You gasp as his sharp teeth nick you, his fangs nudging across your skin, just for a quick taste. His tongue running over the scratch, lapping up the small pooling of blood, his hands now digging into your back as he holds you tighter still.

Your head rolls to the side, away from him, granting him permission to keep going. Astarion hums and leaves a light kiss against your skin, thanking you without words before he bites down.

In the night, Astarion would feed from you, his bite careful not to wake you, and not to take any more than he needed. It was a favor, a gift, one that you had no problem giving.

But now— with his arms around you and his teeth buried into your skin…

This was something else.

He was treating you like the most precious of glass, afraid that you would break, and that he would be the one to break you. Releasing his bite, he continued to suck, hardly taking any blood at all, only enjoying the intimacy that you willingly shared with him.

“Astarion?” You whispered, your hands moving from his shoulders to sink into his hair, his hair soft like velvet.

He pulled back, just for a moment, your blood decorating his lips in the prettiest display of your love for him. “Yes, my sweet?”

“I love you.”

Astarion smiled, his eyes closing. He took a deep breath before opening them again, those red eyes of his filled with all of the love and passion that he could hardly contain any longer.

“And I you, Tav. Forever.”

Then he tucked head back into the crook of your neck, holding you still, well into the night.

——-

Gale and Shadowheart in the background—

Gale: That’s not even sexual, is it? He’s just openly feeding from them, right there… in front of all of us.

Shadowheart: I think it’s sweet.

Gale: Ah yes, nothing more romantic than drinking the blood of your loved one… Where everyone can see it.

Shadowheart: You eat magical items because of your history with your past lover, Gale.

Glae:….

Gale: Fair enough.

---------

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irisintheafterglow · 11 months

Text

You Are In Love (Gojo Satoru x You)

summary: you can't stop dreaming about him, and your friends start to notice a change in your behavior. (2.4k words)

cw/tags: mild angst to comfort, friends to lovers, pining, idiots in love, profanity, elder sorcerers being assholes, pet names (doll, gorgeous, etc), uhh gojo loses his cool and blows up a building lol, kissing, one instance of foreshadowing manga spoilers but only if you squint

note: HELLOO GOJO NATION. ok so i'll be so honest with you, this stupid man was my #1 for so long and i think those feelings resurfaced so i got a little carried away with writing this (it's my longest fic so far, my bad). but yk something about gojo, hawks, and kuroo all being played by the voice actor just gets me. the prompt for this is from the AMAZING @creativepromptsforwriting and was supposed to be a drabble but turned into a full fic. anyways, hope you enjoy it!!

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated!

“It’s too quiet. Can I tell you guys a joke I heard on TV?”

“Mmm, please don’t.”

“But it’s funny!”

“Satoru.”

“Ooh, using my first name. Something’s up with you.”

“Something is not up with me, weirdo.”

“No, something is definitely off with you today.” You thought Suguru and Shoko had stopped listening, but they chimed in with evidence of your odd behavior.

“You said good morning differently,” Shoko added, casually taking a sip of her soda and peering at you over the rim. Her hair sways gently in the breeze outside of the convenience store you four had stopped at before heading back to Jujutsu Tech. You glare at her and open your mouth to defend yourself when Suguru adds his two cents.

“You tripped up during that last mission that should have been a cakewalk,” which was true, but you thought your mistake had gone unnoticed. The truth was, the spirit had caught you off guard with a simple teleport trick. It warped behind you and unlatched its grotesque jaws to end your life faster than you could blink. You should have been able to predict the movement with your eyes closed, but you’d been too focused on making sure a certain white-haired sorcerer was alive after your group had been ambushed several hundred feet underground. Suguru had given you a curious look after one of his demons saved your ass, and you’d flipped him off hoping that would be the end of it. “And you also flipped me the bird instead of saying thank you,” he shrugged.

“You also finish your food the fastest out of all of us, and today you haven’t even taken three bites,” Shoko says, finishing her drink and standing to toss it in the trash bin. “Something’s going on with you, and I, for one, am incredibly curious as to why.” Satoru watches you with a smug glint in his eye, and it takes all your willpower not to strangle him.

“As glad as I am to know that you all pay such great attention to my habits, I promise there’s nothing wrong.” The three of them stare at you skeptically but thankfully decided to drop the subject, instead pivoting to who’s most likely to go to jail first (it’s Gojo).

After the late lunch, you begin the walk back to Jujutsu Tech as the sky transforms into faded shades of orange and pink. The vanishing sun casts shining reflections on the surrounding skyscrapers, bouncing off the windows of speeding cars and zooming trains. Satoru and Suguru walk ahead, playfully shoving each other and almost falling over doing so.

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s going on now that Dumb and Dumber aren’t here?” Shoko asks as she falls into step with you. The sides of your mouth turn down, realizing that she didn’t forget about your conversation at lunch. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell your closest friends what was going on; you just didn’t know how to explain what you had dreamed about the previous night and the night before that, and all the nights the past two weeks.

It began with a look he had given you after a meeting with some higher-ups in the sorcerer world. They had visited Jujutsu Tech unexpectedly, stating that they would be evaluating the skill levels of random students. Out of your group of friends, only you and Satoru had been pulled to be tested. Principal Yaga had instructed both of you before entering the room to give the evaluation your best effort and to not become indignant if they judged you poorly.

The brass declared your evaluation to be first, and you poured all of your energy into showcasing the power of your Cursed Technique. You even managed to pull off a few strikes of extension techniques that you’d been perfecting for months. Though the entire performance lasted less than ten minutes, you were breathless and light-headed when the panel told you to stop. After bowing deeply, you moved to exit the room, desperate for fresh air, but they stopped you and began listing every single reason why your demonstration was unsatisfactory. Besides “inefficient technique, predictable attacks, weak offense, insufficient defense,” and a general lack of power compared to that of other sorcerers at your level, they informed you that your Cursed Technique was obsolete and would eventually render you useless as more innately talented sorcerers take your place. You were speechless at their blunt criticism of your effort, on the verge of breaking down, but you managed to nod in acknowledgment as you stepped out of the room.

But then you saw him sitting there, waiting on his phone and looking up at you with a bright smile as he stood to greet you. A confusing blend of disappointment, anger, sadness, and loneliness panged in your heart and spread to the rest of your body, and you rapidly tried to blink away the moisture welling up in your eyes while Satoru approached. He was halfway through a snarky remark about you blowing away their expectations when his smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Shit, he’d noticed you crying.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me. What the fuck did they do to you?” Dashing blue eyes found yours through the clouds in your vision, and his thumbs gently brushed away stray tears that escaped down your cheeks.

“Do you think I’m weak, Satoru?” Your voice cracks when the words finally spill out, swallowing hard to push down the sobs threatening to break loose from your constricted lungs. Satoru freezes, eyes searching yours. He doesn’t answer your question immediately, but instead asks again.

“Doll, what the fuck did they do.” You can’t get a reply out in time before his focus snaps up to behind you, and a second later you hear the door roll open, one of the officials commanding Satoru to enter for his evaluation. His large hands hold your face and turn you to look up at him, and you move unconsciously to cover his hands with yours. “Stay here for me, okay?” He glanced at the official waiting in the doorway, blue eyes dark with suppressed rage. “This won’t take long.”

His evaluation lasts two minutes and four seconds. At first, the room was silent and you couldn’t hear any demonstration of Satoru’s technique, almost as if the panel was having a conversation with him before they began. Then, at two minutes on the dot, the room was blown to splinters. The door, the ceiling, the porch, and all of the furniture inside were violently thrown outward in an explosion that made the ground beneath your feet tremble. Curiously, none of the debris had hit you, but you coughed through the dust and saw that the panel hadn’t been so lucky, all of them buried under shredded beams of wood and canvas. And, standing at the center of the room’s remains with a satisfied grin plastered on his beautiful face, was Satoru. He found his way over to where you stood in disbelief and took your hand in his, interweaving your fingers and guiding you away from the ruined building.

You two walked hand-in-hand in silence back to your dorm, where he seemed reluctant to let go of your hand. Before he walked away, he finally answered your question from earlier.

“I tell you this not just as your friend, but as another sorcerer. You are not weak. Your technique is special and something that those shithead elders haven’t seen in decades, and they don’t like what they don’t understand. I know the thought of leaving Jujutsu Tech crossed your pretty little mind, but you shouldn’t. People need you here, Shoko, Suguru, Mei Mei...” He hesitated, taking a shallow breath and reaching back for your hand.

“Me,” he said, his voice low, and his voice got even softer until it was almost a breath. “I need you here.” As quickly as the fondness in his voice appeared, it disappeared. “And, plus, you definitely can’t leave us here with ol’ Yaga. What the hell am I gonna do if I can’t hide in your room while he’s trying to beat my ass?”

You laugh, and the feeling makes you feel better. He makes you feel better. You smile back at him and finally bid him farewell, and he raises your hand to his lips as he says goodbye.

After that, he’d appeared in your dreams for two weeks straight. The dreams started as a continuation of what would have happened if you didn’t just say goodbye to him, if you’d invited him into your dorm, or if you’d let him pull you into his. They transformed after the fourth day into what it would be like to love him and receive his love in return: stolen kisses, flirty whispers, and movie dates to name a few. All these dreams added up to the previous night’s nightmare, where a mission had gone bad and he’d been imprisoned with no hope of breaking him free. You’d startled awake covered in sweat, and barely fell back asleep before your alarm forced you to start the day.

“It’s… hard to explain,” you reply apologetically, and Shoko looks at you with so much skepticism written on her face that you have to turn away and look in the other direction.

“So something is bothering you.”

“Yeah, there is. I’m sorry; it’s just really, really hard to verbalize.”

“Can I take a stab at what’s bothering you?”

“If you could actually stab it that’d be great, but sure. Knock yourself out.”

“It’s Satoru, isn’t it?” You stop mid-stride and her face lights up with amusement. “Holy shit, it’s Satoru. You like Gojo Satoru.”

“Jeez, Shoko, go ahead and say his name four hundred million times, why don’t you? But really, what tipped you off?”

“Ten seconds ago when you asked me to stab your problem, I figured it out,” she chuckles, bumping her shoulder against yours playfully. “If it’s any consolation, I’m 99% sure he’s felt that way about you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“How do you know?”

“Would you let me off the hook if I said it was hard to explain?”

“Har, har, very funny. Could you at least try?”

“Mmm, I think it’s better if he explains it himself.”

“You’re no help, Shoko.”

“Yes, and you love me anyway. But not as much as you love Sa–” You groan, covering your burning face in both hands and increasing the speed of your steps to escape your friend’s teasing chuckles.

When you finally arrive at school, the stars have started rising and the moon hangs in the sky. You walk in the direction of the dorms when Shoko suddenly unlinks her elbow from yours, winking at you over your shoulder.

“Suguru, can you help me move something from the gym real quick? I forgot a few things over there.”

“Sure, but why do you need my help?” Shoko gives him a pointed look and realization quickly washes over his features. “Oh, OH. Okay, of course, sure.” Suguru turns on his heel awkwardly, briskly walking in the direction of the gym.

“Satoru, walk them back to their dorm. Don’t want anything happening to them after their little slip today,” she adds before heading in the other direction with Suguru, who tries and fails to communicate something to Satoru with a nod of his head.

“Alright, pretty girl, you heard Shoko. C’mere and let me walk you home before she beats my ass.”

“I think you have too many people on this planet that want to beat your ass. And, for the record, I’m one of them.”

“It’s the price of being this gorgeous, gorgeous.” A soft laugh escapes your mouth, and you swear Satoru’s smile gets a little wider. The rest of the short walk to your dorm is just as easy and comfortable, Satoru making stupid comments and you replying with a quick remark over and over until you’re back in the same situation you’d been in two weeks ago. But, this time, you realized that Satoru was a lot closer to you, leaning back against your door with your hand touching the handle but not opening it. You both spend a few moments there, just looking at each other, and his mesmerizing eyes flicker to your mouth when you unconsciously lick your lips. He opens his mouth to say something smart, but you beat him to it.

“If you’re gonna look down at my lips and say something stupid about it, you might as well do what I’ve been wanting you to do for ages.”

“Oh? And what’s that, pretty girl?”

You sigh in mock disappointment and look up at him through your eyelashes. “If you don’t know what it is by now, then I guess… you don’t deserve to do it.” His pupils are blown wide with desire, and you resist the impulse to laugh.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” he says, before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you melt into him, arms snaking around his neck while his hands find your waist and hold you up from your knees that have turned to jelly. The first kiss is gentle and experimental, but having the flirtiest asshole in the country chasing your lips as you briefly pull away gives you a newfound wave of confidence, pulling him closer and closer until his body is flush against yours. When you finally pull away from each other and catch your breath, he doesn’t go very far, resting his forehead against yours.

“You know, I wanted to kill them. Those wrinkly assholes two weeks ago that had the gall to call you weak. And I would have, you know I would have, but you were outside… and you were crying… I just didn’t know what to do. I saw red, and, uh, then the building exploded.” You chuckle at his confession and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, rubbing his nose against yours.

“I had a dream about you. Well, a lot of dreams.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. Got a little nervous today when I heard you talk with Shoko about liking a boy, but it helps knowing now that the boy is me. And, hopefully, it will only ever be me.”

“You pretentious asshole.”

“You know it.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

“I know you are.”

“And I’m never going anywhere.” He kisses your forehead sweetly, and it’s just like the dreams that had plagued you for weeks before. “Ever.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo fanfic #gojou satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk shoko #jjk suguru

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runnning-outof-time · 2 days

Text

Up Until You | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy Shelby realizes that he might just have someone he wants to live for.

Warnings: smoking, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 3698

A/N: boy does it feel good to post a story again! I hope there won’t be as big a gap between this and my next one … I promise I’m getting these requests written! Anon, I hope this is as angsty as you were hoping….the prompt you sent is bolded. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I almost forgot! I wanted to give a shoutout to the lovely Mars @toms-cherry-trees for helping me so much in the planning process of this fic…I don’t think it would have gotten finished if it weren’t for you!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sent Ada Shelby a look that asked 'where is he?' the second the latter opened the door. Ada answered with a head nod to the left, which conveyed the answer of 'he's in there'. A glance over the Shelby woman's shoulder confirmed it - Tommy was sitting at the table in the front room. His back was to the door, so he hadn't noticed that she arrived...yet.

She sent Ada an appreciative smile before she quietly walked into the room, hoping that Tommy wouldn't hear her footsteps. He seemed to be too engrossed in his writing for that to happen though. She stood there for a few moments, carefully peering over his shoulder as he finished the sentence he was writing.

He paused then, and it gave (Y/N) the ability to read the sentence he'd just written:

In the event of my own death, I want the following facts to be known...

Reading those words made her mind go blank. "You're actually going through with it?" she asked without thinking.

The sudden sound of someone's voice made Tommy quickly turn in his chair. He was already on edge with the day's events taking up his mind, so this unexpected visitor had caught him completely off guard. It took a few moments for it to register that (Y/N) was standing in front of him. When it did, he cursed under his breath before letting out a huff.

"When'd you get here, eh?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as he placed his hands on his thighs.

"Just now. I couldn't find you at home. The guys hadn't left for the derby though, so I figured you'd be here," she explained her reasoning. "You don't have to go through with this, Tommy," she then circled back, not letting him switch topics.

"I have to," his response cut right to the point. He didn't have time to get into a discussion about it.

"What about the other options you've shared with me? The options that don't include you having to come face to face with this man in order to get the job done," she reminded him of the talks they've had in the past, hoping that doing so would get him to change his mind.

"There's no time for those other options, (Y/N). The derby's today. The plan's been laid out," he wasn't biting.

Silence hung in the air as they stared at each other. (Y/N) was hoping that he'd change his mind. She waited on bated breath, waiting for him to announce that to her. But he stayed silent.

She couldn't wait any longer. "So that's it then?" she asked, incredulousness present in her voice. The fact that he wasn't even trying to entertain a conversation about this was breaking her heart. "You're just going to write your note and practically seal your death with it? And what'll that mean for me?" she was unable to stop herself from getting choked up as she uttered her final question. She didn't want to think about her life without him, but it was staring her dead in the face at the moment.

"The note's just precautionary, love," he attempted to assure her. Her expression didn't change, her brow was now furrowed and it was noticeable that she was biting on her bottom lip; most likely to stop her tears. Tommy finally stood then, coming face to face with her in hopes that his proximity would wash some of her worry away. "I'll be fine," he added in a low voice, blindly searching for her hands so that he could hold them.

"You can't promise that," she responded, her voice coming out as a shaky whisper. It was taking everything she had not to burst out into tears in this moment. She'd always associated his closeness with safety...whenever Tommy was close, (Y/N) knew she could never get hurt. But now his closeness was making her hurt even more.

"It'll be fine," he repeated, squeezing her hands.

"It's really been decided?" she still couldn't accept it.

"It has," he nodded.

(Y/N) sighed at his confirmation. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she pulled her hands from his grasp. She then wrapped her arms tightly around her frame as she turned and took a few steps towards the windows.

"(Y/N)." Her name left Tommy's lips as a breath. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "Come on, love. Look at me," he gently coaxed her. She stood still. "It'll be fine," he tried once more to assure her.

That set her off. She whipped around within a second of hearing his statement. There was now a fire burning in her watery eyes. "Do not say those three words again," she snapped at him, "do not continue to try and reassure me with things that you cannot guarantee will happen. You know how dangerous this plan is, Thomas. Please don't try and act like It isn't. You wouldn't be sat here writing a note for someone to find in the event of your death if you didn't think that there was a possibility of it happening," she spoke her mind, letting her emotions go free as all of the pent up worry flowed out.

"(Y/N)," he spoke her name again, in a different tone this time. He didn't need this lecture. Not right now. "This is what needs to be done," he continued in a low voice, staying stoic in hopes that it would alleviate the situation quicker.

But (Y/N) no longer cared about what he did or didn't need at that moment, and if anything, his statement just made her even more upset.

"It doesn't need to be done like this," she insisted, "you don't need to sign your life away for a contract...for a man who doesn't give a single care about the stakes that have been raised here so long as he isn't the one carrying out the deed. Any other person would be trying to find a way to take themselves out of the equation but you've decided to put yourself in the driver's seat."

(Y/N) felt like she was talking in circles. Hell, she probably was, but she was doing so in hopes that something would be set off inside of him. She wanted him to realize that there was still time to think up another plan; one that didn't include him being placed in harm's way.

"What is it that you want from all of this?" he asked her, his brows furrowed together.

"You, Tommy!" she exclaimed, her frustration shining clear through her words. "I want you to fight! I want you to realize that things don't need to play out this way; that you can still put another plan into play!" she paused, taking a deep breath as she swiped at the tears that had escaped her eyes. "I want you to come home when all of this is finished," her voice was level again as she spoke the final sentence. Her eyes were locked onto his, hoping that he'd realize how much this was affecting her.

Their eyes stayed locked and a few moments passed before Tommy looked down at the ground. He exhaled a sigh as he brought his hand up to the back of his neck. "It's already done," he said, his voice void of any tone.

"Then I guess I'm done," the words left (Y/N)'s mouth before she could stop them. She didn't take them back though. She was tired of fighting in a one-sided fight. It was so obvious that Tommy had his mind made up. Nothing was going to change it at this point. But yet she still held onto that sliver of hope. She hoped that her showing up today and speaking her piece would get him to change his mind.

"(Y/N)..." Tommy looked up again as her name fell from his lips, shock now present in his expression.

"I can't be here a moment longer. I can't stand in front of a man who is acting as if he's already dead. I need to leave."

Her words were spoken softly, but Tommy heard them loud and clear. He said nothing as she moved to the archway, expecting her to leave without another word. To his surprise, she turned around just before she was about to exit the room.

"I didn't believe that love existed until you came along, Tommy. But you showed me how wrong I was for thinking that way; for thinking that I'd never experience something like that. And now you've just decided not only your future, but mine as well. I can't stay here and watch it play out. I'm not sure if I'll be home when you return. I just..." (Y/N) stopped speaking as the words got caught in her throat. She let out a shaky breath, tears welling up in her eyes once more.

All words escaped her at that moment, and she shook her head instead, deciding that finishing her declaration would be a lost cause anyway. She couldn't even bear to look at him again, too afraid that she'd actually break down. So instead she turned and made her way to the door of the home, opening it and leaving without looking back.

The sun was now shining down on her. It was an absolutely lovely day in London, but yet she was having one of the worst in her life. She decided to go for a walk, revisiting the streets that still felt like home even though she'd made the move to Birmingham several months ago.

(Y/N) knew Ada Shelby before she knew Tommy. She'd met her when Ada had moved into the next door apartment with her adorable son, Karl. The two women quickly became friends, spending a lot of time together right up until the day Ada had been found and hurt for being a Shelby.

Contact stopped briefly as Ada had moved out of the apartment, but things continued like nothing had even happened when Ada sent (Y/N) a letter that contained her new address. The two frequently spent time together in the front room of the lovely new home, sipping tea and talking about the day's events in front of the fire.

Ada's house was where (Y/N) first met Tommy. Surprise riddled their first encounter. Ada had stepped away to tend to Karl when Tommy came knocking on the door. (Y/N), being the friend that she was, didn't hesitate in opening it. The sight she was greeted with took her breath away. Thankfully Ada had returned from Karl's room, or who knows how long the two would have been standing in the doorway, staring at each other. She even joked about the fact that they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Of course it didn't help that Tommy had forgotten what it was he was even there for for the first few minutes of his visit.

That wasn't the last time (Y/N) saw Tommy. The two became very close very quickly. It was like they had known each other forever; like there was this pull present between them that neither could ignore. Things also got serious pretty quickly. So serious that (Y/N) was packing up her things and leaving her London apartment for Small Heath after only six months of knowing Tommy.

Some might think it was crazy; that things were moving much too fast. But (Y/N) had never felt so sure of doing something in her life.

Which made what was happening now hurt so much more. But she needed to keep walking. She'd done the right thing.

Tommy placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a match before taking a deep drag from it and exhaling slowly. The sealed letter sat on the table in front of him. He stared at it for a few moments before pressing the thumb and index fingers of his free hand against his eyelids, hoping it would alleviate some of the pressure he'd been feeling.

"I made you up some tea," Ada's voice broke through the silence, and the sound of glass being set on the table he was working at made Tommy lift his head again.

He nodded as a thank you before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips again. He then stamped it out in the ashtray while exhaling the smoke slowly.

"I heard everything that was said, you know," she said then, moving over to one of the chairs so that she could sit. "What were you thinking, Tommy?" she asked with raised eyebrows, her eyes zeroed in on her brother.

Tommy sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked off to the far wall. He didn't need anymore of this right now.

"She was my friend first. She was the only person who cared about me when I moved here. She helped me through a lot. I'm not going to let you ruin her for your stupid ambitions," Ada had no problem speaking her mind and letting him know how wrong he was for responding to (Y/N) the way he did.

Tommy pulled the timepiece from his pocket and checked it before letting out a sigh and returning it back to its place. "I need to leave," he told Ada before lifting the cup and downing the beverage in one go. In hindsight he was thankful that it wasn’t scorching hot. "Thanks for the tea," he said to her as he set the empty cup back down.

Nothing more was said as Tommy stood from the chair he was sitting on. He looked to Ada as he pulled the jacket he'd been wearing back on over his shoulders. She was glaring at him, hoping that he'd have something - anything - more to add to the conversation.

It became apparent that he didn't when he started for the archway. So Ada left him with one last statement: "please don't let her go, Tommy. We all need her." There was a quiet desperation now present in her eyes, one Tommy wasn't sure what to say in response to.

So he nodded and turned to exit the home, heading right to the car he parked a few streets down.

Truthfully what he wanted to do right now was head back to Birmingham and stop (Y/N) from leaving, to tell her that she was more important than any plan he could ever put into place. He knew she was justified in saying everything that she had.

But it was too late to do that now. Tommy knew that there'd be men searching for him by the end of the day if he stepped away from the plan this late into it. At least now he had some sort of control over the outcome of his life. And he was going to try like hell to stay alive...because now he had someone to stay alive for.

The house on Watery Lane was quiet when Tommy stepped into it later that evening. The fire in the main room was still lit, but he couldn't quite remember if they'd put enough wood on to keep it going prior to leaving that morning. So judging (Y/N)'s presence based on that could have surely given false hope.

He took his overcoat off and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. The suit jacket followed after, and he draped that over one of the chairs in the sitting room as he walked through it.

No one was downstairs, but he hadn't expected anyone to be at this time of night.

He quietly walked up the steps and down the hall to the bedroom that he and (Y/N) shared. He paused at the closed door, taking a moment both to steady himself; to regroup from the day's events, and to prepare himself for the possibility that he may be opening the door to an empty room.

After inhaling and exhaling deeply, he turned the knob and opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the lit candle on the bedside table. Seeing it made all of his worries dissipate. (Y/N) had a habit of lighting them and then falling asleep.

Looking slightly to the right, he found the woman that hadn't left his mind since she left him in Ada's sitting room. She was laying on her side, facing the wall, telling him that she was sleeping.

Slowly, quietly he began ridding himself of his outer layers. It wasn't until he moved over to the dresser that he noticed the bags sitting on the floor. They were packed. It was easy to see that, even in the candlelight. He looked back to (Y/N) then, putting the pieces together in his mind. She was going to leave...but something made her stay.

Now only wearing his undergarments, he made his way over to the bed. Hesitation overcame him again. Should he lay with her? Should he go back downstairs? She was in her spot, tucked up against the wall so that enough room was present for him on the small bed they shared.

A few moments passed before he made his decision, lifting the covers and slowly slipping underneath them. He laid on his back for a short time before turning onto his side so that he was facing her sleeping frame. Another bout of hesitation filled him, but he didn't let it stick for too long as he gently draped his arm over her midsection.

That was when (Y/N) let out the shaky breath she'd been holding in from the moment she heard the door open. She was awake the entire time.

"Are you still awake, love?" Tommy asked in a whisper.

"Yes," she breathed out, her voice wavering.

"You've been crying," he pointed out, able to read her like an open book.

"I didn't know if I'd see you again," she answered him, choking up as she spoke.

"I'm here," he assured her, his arm wrapping tighter around her body.

(Y/N) didn't say anything in response. Instead tears fell from her eyes as she held her breath, trying not to make it noticeable that she was crying. But Tommy was able to feel how her body was shaking.

"Turn and look at me," he said quietly, a soft demand that took her a few moments to comply with. Her tear-stained face became visible in the candlelight when she did, and seeing it broke Tommy's heart. "C'mere," he breathed, allowing her to move even closer to him so that he could engulf her in his embrace.

"No one knew where you were, Tommy," she whispered once she was finally able to get words out again. "I thought..." she paused, not even wanting to say what she was thinking, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry you had to think that way, darlin'," he murmured, stroking the back of her head slowly. He held her close until her body stopped shaking, giving her the time she needed. He didn't speak until she lifted her head from the crook of his neck. "Better?" he asked in a whisper, peering down to see that her eyes were still closed.

"Slightly," she breathed out a response. "I'm relieved that you're home. Is..." she paused, seeming like she was looking for the words to say next, "is it finished?"

"It's finished," he answered in a definitive tone, nodding his head as best he could.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath upon hearing his response, feeling as if the rest of the weight had lifted from her chest. She slowly opened her eyes and looked right into his. "I was going to leave," she started, watching Tommy's brows furrow together in the candlelight, "but I realized that this is part of the life I chose with you. That this is the type of work you carry out, and that I can either fight you on it or support you the best that I could. I also realized that my desire to be with you is so much greater than the worry that your work creates." Her eyes didn't stray from his as she spoke. Watching his hardened blue irises soften as he took in her words was enough to fill her heart to the brim with love.

Tommy took a moment to soak in her words. He moved his hand from behind her head so that he could gently trace the line of her jaw with his thumb. Taking in a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. Searching her eyes for a few seconds longer, he thought of the words he wanted to say.

"I thought I could lose everything and be totally fine with it," he began, clearing his throat in hopes that she wouldn't notice the fact that his voice was breaking. She noticed. "But then you came along...and now I see how wrong I was."

"Tommy," she breathed, taken back by his admission.

"I had nothing to live for up until you, (Y/N)," he admitted, not holding anything back now, "and I promise you now that things will change... that there’ll be no more of these plans. I don't want to have the possibility of an outcome that doesn't include you in it."

(Y/N)'s mind was swirling. It had been a rollercoaster of a day, she still couldn't quite believe the change of events that had happened. But she was so very thankful that things had ended up with Tommy by her side again.

"I love you, Tommy," she whispered, a smile tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he repeated the phrase, his expression mirroring hers as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss.

Now that he had her again, he knew that he could never let her go. What he'd told Michael earlier in the evening would soon be true: he was going to ask (Y/N) to marry him.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

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orobaxis · 1 year

Text

melting under blue skies (belting out sunlight)

ominis gaunt x reader (hogwarts legacy)

summary: you really wanna hold ominis' hand. "coincidentally", anne sallow has somehow dragged herself and her brother away from you and ominis during hogsmeade weekend

reader is not hogwarts legacy mc

word count: 2398

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

"close your mouth, you're staring again!"

you hmmph, turning to anne sallow who giggles before stuffing her mouth again. you both sit in the great hall, waiting for sebastian and ominis to arrive.

"i wasn't staring," you retort, "i was just relieved that they finally arrived. i thought seb was going to make them late for breakfast again."

the boys finally make their way towards you, sebastian seating himself beside his sister and ominis finding his way by your side. you don't miss the smirk anne gives you behind her goblet when you turn red, blushing profusely. "he very nearly did," ominis sighs, although there was no venom in his voice, "it turns out that it was a good idea to send you both to the great hall early instead of leaving you to starve waiting for him in the common room."

you watch him fiddle with his hands, fingers digging into his palms to massage them. oh, you wonder what his hands must feel like.

"well, i don't hear you complaining," sebastian starts to argue, but stops himself, "actually no, you complained about it all this time, wallowing about making y/n wait."

you almost spit out your drink, but mask it as a cough behind your goblet. the idea of ominis complaining that he doesn't want to make you wait surprises you. you subtly turn your head to look at ominis' face, but like always, you cannot gauge his expression, his face blank.

"anyway," anne inhales, excited to change the subject, "any shops you're excited to go to at hogsmeade?"

it's a hogsmeade weekend, and anne is excited to go to visit shops in the neighbouring village. her brother chatters about going to the owl post to send a letter to his uncle solomon about a book he had forgotten.

ominis, as always, is quiet. he prefers to listen, but ever since getting to know you and the sallow twins, he also does not hesitate to chime in here and there. despite his quiet disposition, you certainly think he's become more engaged with sebastian and anne, now offering his opinions, sassing the sallow boy, and speaking his own mind.

you also started to notice how it's almost the opposite for you.

not that he has started ignoring you, no, not like that. recently, he just seems...reserved. when talking to you, he prefers to speak in a lowered voice, almost whispering. he would nudge you with his shoulder before leaning his face in your direction, asking if you stayed up late to finish your transfiguration homework, or if you dread the next potion class with professor sharp. you also remember how stupid you looked one time when you were certain that ominis gave a little chuckle, before asking, "remember how you gushed about that niffler in our beasts class but the little devil actually emptied sebastian's pockets of all the galleons?" like he was trying to make you laugh. when anne wasn't around, he would find you in the common room, helping you tell stories to other students about seeing merpeople in the water, the two of you smiling when the students would wait there for hours for any sign of merpeople swimming about.

oh, and it certainly didn't help that anne knew of your...infatuation with the gaunt boy.

you're not really certain when anne first noticed. you're not even sure when you first noticed it yourself. but you and anne are best friends, "we're sisters!" she'd say, "i know you like the back of my twin brother's own hand!"

her face was both mischievous and sincere when she told you, "y/n, you fancy ominis!"

after finishing up in potions, almost as though ominis can see the frown on your lips, he turns to you, "is something wrong?"

you purse your lips, trying to ignore how your heart flutters as you watch him tilt his head in curiosity, and shake your head, "no, it's just...we don't have enough mongrel fur to brew an edurus potion for next class."

ominis hums as he nods, "that shouldn't be a problem, y/n," he reassures you. he fiddles with his hands habitually, and you almost feel bad for taking advantage of his blindness to look at him like he hung the moon. "we can pick those up at j pippin's potions this weekend."

you thought about asking him to hold your hand before, whenever you four were up to no good, sneaking around the palace. you wonder if he would have let you.

"we really should learn that spell to clean up our potions station," anne sighs, "every time garreth brews something, he blows things up instead."

"and it's always us who end up getting splashed," sebastian bemoans.

"well, don't you look charming."

you roll your eyes as you watch anne grinning at you through the mirror.

"i look the same as i always was," you tell her.

"hm-mm," she hums at you unconvincingly, "if you only ominis could see you now, am i right?"

"anne!" you cajole her, turning beet red, "stop saying stuff like that!"

"what?" she raises her hands in defense, "i'm just saying you look beautiful, and if i didn't know any better i'd say you were going on a date!"

you ignore her, as well as the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of being on a hogsmeade date with ominis. you heard about couples who go to hogsmeade for dates, going to honeydukes for sweets, steepley and sons for tea and other confectionaries, and snogging in alleyways. but this is not a hogsmeade date, this is just the four of you going to hogsmeade to buy as many candies as you can afford at honeydukes.

turning to your best friend, you frown, "well, what about you? don't tell me you're going to hogsmeade wearing your night clothes!"

anne blinks at you slowly before she shrugs, "i'm not going to hogsmeade unfortunately."

you double take, turning to her in shock, "what do you mean? you were all excited about going to hogsmeade!" she laughs as you gape at her.

"yes, i was excited about it, but i got detention. remember? the duelling?"

you close your eyes in resignation, flashbacks of what happened a few days ago brought you back to when anne and imelda were rough-housing each other and ended up whisking their wands in the hallway--which was not allowed. duelling was only allowed during classes (and in crossed wands duelling club, which you were certain by now was not as inconspicuous as lucan and sebastian insisted).

disappointed by the lack of anne on your trip to hogsmeade, you exit the castle and expected to find the boys hanging out by the fountain. many students are situated there today, enjoying the heat of the sun, while droves are also walking to hogsmeade, and some took the opportunity to play quidditch (you can hear imelda reyes all the way from the quidditch pitch). to your surprise, however, the sallow boy was not there to greet you and complain about anne missing hogsmeade weekend, only--

"ominis?"

you were almost certain he could see you, from the way he stood up from the stone bench even before you finished crossing the lawn to greet him. he is expecting you, you gather, but how does he know that you were walking towards him?

"i didn't wait long, if that's what you're concerned about," he starts, the edges of his lips quirking upwards as he fiddles with his hands again. you look at his hands, then his face, trying to admire it like it was the first time you've seen it.

"and-"

"sebastian had detention," he cuts you off, but not in an unpolite manner. you take the time to admire how carefree, relaxed, and comfortable he looks outside of his uniform, "he got caught trying to sneak into the restricted section again."

your pace was slow and relaxed as you stroll outside the castle grounds. lots of students walk the path going to and from hogsmeade, the sounds of laughter in the air. you try to tell your heart not to do backflips at the absence of ominis' wand in his hand, trusting you enough to guide his way.

"what was he doing there this time?"

"i think he was trying to get back at peeves for locking him in the bathroom the other night."

at the sound of your laugh, ominis smiles.

you think of three different times when you were sure you realized how much you cared for ominis.

it could have been in your first year, when you sat next to him in charms and he would lose (let you win) summoner's court every single time even though you know that he was good at it (you saw him play against sebastian and leander and won). when you confronted him about it, there was an almost smirk in his otherwise blank face, "i like that whooping sound you make when you win."

it could have been when he told you and the sallows, whom he now call his friends, about his past, his family, and his resentment towards them and the dark arts. you didn't think any less of him and you don't now, and you don't think you ever will, but the look on his face seemed like the world was lifted off his shoulders. he began to smile more, make jokes, pass you some confectionaries and tea while you wait for your next class.

or it could have been that day in hogsmeade-

your hands kept brushing against each other.

you want to blame it on the other students-hogsmeade is too crowded!-making you squeeze through people and making sure that ominis is alright. you didn't want to break off the distance between you two (just to make sure he's alright, of course, nothing else). you two are now walking so close together that you can feel his body heat emanating, and you can smell him up close, and you mutter a quick thanks that he cannot see you because of how red you've become.

ominis let you drag him to j pippin's potions to buy those potions supplies--you tell him you can go there last, but he insists, "it's better to get it out of the way now to leave us free time to visit other shops."

leave us free time to visit other shops. yes, right, you have to focus.

the first time your hand brushed his you recoiled in surprise, hurriedly apologizing. you know that some people value their personal spaces, and it's bad enough that you're almost bumping shoulders with him because of the density of students in the village, you didn't want him to think you are also invading his own bubble.

he chuckles at your apology, but says nothing.

you bring him to tomes and scrolls next, and lets you toddle here and there looking for books to read. you didn't tell him what you were looking for anything in particular, so it surprises ominis when you skip over in front of him (he can almost hear the giddiness in your footsteps).

"did you find a book you want?"

grinning, you nod, "yes, finally! i had to order this, had to wait weeks! good thing it arrived just when we came here."

ominis feels the package being softly pushed against his chest, you standing in front of him almost expectantly, "what?"

"it's for you," you swallow, "i couldn't get you anything on your birthday, but here it is. belated happy birthday!"

you hold your breath as you watch him process what you said, afraid that he'll refuse it. it had been a special order that you had to wait weeks to get, hence why his gift is a bit delayed. you watch his face, the beauty marks on his forehead, his mouth opening (you hope it's not a refusal of your gift), and you realize that ominis is gaping. he is shocked.

"for me?" he asks, chuckling in disbelief. he finally raises his hands to hold it, fingers grazing against yours ever so softly, but you don't flinch this time, nor do you apologize.

patiently waiting as he runs his fingers on the cover of the book, you wait until he finishes reading it.

"bestiarum magicum?"

you nod, grinning proudly, "in braille! it's one of my favourite books, and this version goes in-depth with descriptions of the magical creatures," when he says nothing, you continue, "you seem to like it when i read it aloud so i thought..."

ominis clears his throat, feeling it becoming tighter. you ordered a braille version of your favourite book, the one he would ask you to read because you enjoy it so much and he enjoys listening to you. "i...thank you," he whispers, now giving you a shy grin, one that makes you blush, "i look forward to reading it."

the third time you realized just how much you cared could have been the time you two finally decide to go to the three broomsticks, hungry and eager to rest your feet. the alley is crowded again, and you try to make sure no one bumps into you or ominis, who now carries the book under his arm.

your fingers graze again.

you jolt, moving your hand out of the way and turn to him to apologize, but his head was turned your way, tilted in that same way he does whenever he's curious, and there is a smile on his face.

before you can open your mouth to apologize, you feel it again.

first, the heat.

then his skin.

his fingers touch yours slowly, as if asking for permission.

if ominis can see you, he would see your eyes wide in shock, surprise, cheeks tinted red.

finally, his fingers tangle with you, and his face turns forward, the smile never leaving his face.

he squeezes your hand gently, like saying "is this okay?"

you squeeze back, and shift closer to him that your shoulders touch. "yes, it's okay."

inside the three broomsticks, sirona greets you two. "hello kids, go upstairs, there's people waiting for you, i'll bring the butterbeers right up."

you and ominis are both confused, but his hand doesn't leave yours as you guide him up the stairs.

in one of the tables sat the twins, mischievous and victorious smiles on their faces.

hp phase is back so much i started rereading my fave fanfics on fanfiction.net lmao

49 hours into the game, 55% progress

#hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow #anne sallow #hogsmeade

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shadeysprings · 1 year

Text

On the Lookout

—Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The excitement rolling through your veins as a new ranger in Jackson County turns into fear when you realize the true intentions of your partner.

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Noncon, unprotected sex, age gap (about over 20 years, reader is over 18), breeding kink, implied use of drugs, somnophilia. There may be more but kindly proceed with caution.

A/N: I know I promised something else but the pull of Joel is just too strong. As part of my sleepover, this is my second gift to all you amazing people. Might be a bit sloppy but oh well. Maybe some sort of spoiler if you haven't seen/played the game.

Your likes do nothing but your feedback and reblog are everything. Support content creators. Enjoy! ❤️

Purple and pink hues paint the sky, the beautiful sight making you smile as you peek out from the window of your garage home. The spring chill blows through the open pane, signifying a new day and the beginning of your new community duty as a ranger in Jackson County; a task you’ve been wanting since you and your dad joined the settlement.

The conversation you had with Maria two days ago is still fresh in your memory, how she pulled you aside while preparing lunch for the residents, looking at you with a worried expression while she explained the dangers of patrolling the perimeter. But such concerns didn’t dampen the excitement rushing through your veins, giving the county’s leader a smile of gratitude for giving you such a great opportunity to help the community along with a promise to do your best.

But doubts soon began swimming in your head as you watched the rangers take off that same evening. It made you think why, after several times asking Maria to switch your post, it’s just now that she agreed to the change. And your thoughts immediately shifted to Joel and Ellie finally having enough of your rambling about your distaste for working in the kitchen.

You don’t even question if Ellie caught on to your envy of her. That a kid of fifteen was already being one of the first picks amongst the others your age or older when going out to clear the area of infected and clickers alike. Though you try to reason with yourself that you’re good with a gun, Joel and Tommy said so themselves when you would tag along with the brothers and Ellie to go target practice at the edge of the county.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re ready.” Joel said when he caught you that night and asked if you were finally told the good news. “Your daddy would be very proud of you.” He added and that was enough for you to believe in yourself.

You take your dad’s old revolver and run your thumbs against the cylinder. They were empty of bullets when Joel gave them to you, rendering the weapon useless. But still, you keep it safely beside you in your bed, a small trinket to feel his presence and to give you a sense of safety despite his absence.

A breath of surprise escapes you when a knock resounds on your door.

“You up yet, sweetheart?” Joel calls from the other side. “We’ll be on the first group to ride out.”

“I’ll be right there.” You call back, placing the gun back under your pillow and checking your pack, making sure you brought everything you need before zipping it close and heading to the door.

Joel greets you with a smile when you open the door. “You ready?” He breathes.

“More than you know.” He chuckles at your response and gives you a playful wink. He then cocks his head to the side and you follow him after setting the locks of your door in place.

As the morning light shines down from the heavens, you can’t help but notice the difference in Joel’s features. His hair is combed back and his beard looks freshly trimmed, far from the usual unkempt look that you’re used to seeing. There even seems to be a spring in his gait, a sense of ease washing over him and in extension, bleeding over to you.

The chatter at the stable takes your attention off of Joel, a nervous smile grazing your lips as the reality of your first day as a ranger begins sinking in. You follow Joel and group up with the others around Tommy, Ellie standing at your side and greeting you a ‘good morning’, one you return with the same exuberance.

“You ready to kick some infected butt?” She grins and you nod.

You can’t wait to learn the ropes and do something meaningful for the community that took in both you and your dad, to prove to them that you’re worth more than mixing stews and setting out plates at the mess hall.

You can’t wait to make your father proud.

“Ellie, you’ll be partnered up with me,” Tommy announces and you startle in surprise when Ellie cheers in excitement. “We’ll take the route east. The last patrol said they saw some infected scattered around the area.”

You tense slightly but make to hide it amongst the others. You didn’t want anyone to think you were weak and faint-hearted. That it was a mistake giving you a spot within the rangers.

You try to latch onto Ellie’s energy, keeping your morale high yet take some of Joel’s gravitas to give the impression that you’re serious about your job.

Once Ellie calms down, you scoot a little closer to her. “You’re not scared?” You whisper while Tommy continues giving the other pair their assignment.

“Scared of the infected?” She scoffs and then glances at Tommy. “A little, but Tommy will be with me and he’s a much better shot than Joel.” The grin on her face is mischievous, looking at your other side and sticking her tongue out at her surrogate father who only rolls his eyes at her.

“Aren’t you usually partnered with Joel though?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.” She sighs playfully then stares ahead at the big wooden gates of the county. “But you’re here and he’s always partnered up with the new recruits.” She says matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry, you’re in safe hands. Tommy may be great with a gun, but Joel—he’s better at surviving.”

You suddenly stand in attention when your name is called, your heart pounding in nervousness as Tommy checks his ledger before facing you.

“You’ll be partnered with Joel.” Tommy nods to his brother and you look to your side to see Joel already looking at you. “You both will take the lookout tower by the west ridge. It may be the farthest but it is the safest.” He states, flipping another page in his notebook.

“Updates on infected in the area?” Joel inquires.

“None for three weeks now. Though Dylan mentioned he saw some at the next ridge over.”

“They’d have to fall off to get to us, so I’m not worried.”

“You’ll be able to spot them from the tower. You’ll just have to keep watch though if you can get rid of them, that would be better.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Joel assures.

“Alright,” Tommy shouts and the chatter in the barn quickly dies down, seriousness waving over in the atmosphere. “Y’all know the drill, children. Run your routes, mark your log books, and clear any infected you see along the way. And if you run into something you can’t handle, you come back home. Am I clear?”

A resounding ‘yes’ echoes through the stable.

You look around when the others disperse from the group, feeling a little lost on what to do next. But a hand on your shoulder takes your attention, looking up to see Joel standing close, his fingers drumming over the strap of your pack.

“You wait for me up ahead. I’ll grab our horses and guns.” You nod in agreement at his words and leave him to stand by the open gate.

Slowly, the settlement begins to wake up, the sun peeking out from the mountains on the horizon and shining its light from the sky. You still can’t fathom how normal everything feels living in Jackson as you watch the residents greet each other with happiness, that somehow, you’ve gained some semblance of your old life before the pandemic struck.

From where you stand, the threat of the outside world feels distant, and that nothing could go wrong as long as you stay within the walls. But since that night your dad came home after a night patrolling the area, his body laying lifeless in the arms of Joel, you became a cynic.

His luck eventually had to run out and the bite marks that decorated his body along with the bullet lodged into the side of his head only proved it to be true. Joel tried to explain what had transpired, apologies spilling from his lips while he stayed with you to mourn for your father. But you knew well enough to piece things together, that what Joel did saved him rather than kill him. And for that, you were grateful.

Though you can’t help but think when it’ll be your turn.

“Seem to be digging deep there, sweetheart.”

Blinking away your thoughts, you turn to face Joel as he nears you. The reins of two horses clasped in one hand while the other carries two rifles.

“Uhh, it’s nothing.” You smile and reach for one of the horses. “Just—just thinking about my dad.”

He stays silent but gives you a nod of understanding, thankful for the lack of questions or explanations others usually give when you talk about your father. But with Joel, you don’t feel obligated to show a strong facade, to lie about being okay because out of everyone who showed you sympathy, he’s the one who understands you the most.

Pushing the thoughts of your dad at the back of your head, you take a firm grip on the saddle and lodge your foot into the stirrup, a strenuous groan erupting from your chest as you struggle to hoist yourself up. You fail a couple of times, dropping back to the ground yet you only push yourself to try harder. But each attempt leaves you frustrated, only successfully slinging your upper body atop the animal before you slide back to the ground once again.

“Here,” Joel nears you and you huff out a breath. “Let me help you, baby,” You startle slightly when his hands find purchase on your waist, his face only a breath away from your own when he speaks. “Grab tightly on the pommel and at the count of three, you push your foot and pull yourself up, okay?”

“Okay,” You mumble, your face heating up in embarrassment.

“One, two—” You do as he says, fingers gripping tightly on the pommel as he continues to count. “Three.” Kicking off the ground, you grunt as you pull your weight forward. “Straddle, baby.” He instructs and you carefully lift your other leg to stride over the horse, a blush creeping up your cheeks when you feel his hand caress the curve of your ass, only pulling away when you successfully take a seat.

“Good girl.” He praises and you look down at him when he gives your thigh a light pat, the heat on your face spreading down to your neck. “You know how to work one of these?” His question comes all of a sudden, holding out the rifle for you to take.

You reply with a shake of your head.

“Best I show you when we get to the tower.” He hums but still lets you keep the weapon, gesturing for you to sling it over your shoulder. “You got a gun?” He asks.

“Only my dad’s but I kept it at home.” You frown. “No bullets.”

He nods then reaches behind him and holds out a small pistol. “Feels like it weighs nothing.” You comment as you grip the gun, amazed at how light it feels in your grip.

“That’ll help you move and attack faster.” He notes. “An infected comes running at you, it’ll only be seconds from when you take it out and pull the trigger.”

“Got it.” You stare back at the gun before stowing it in your pack.

“Now, here are a few things you have to remember.” The seriousness in Joel’s tone makes you tighten your grip on the reins, keeping your focus on him as he lays down the rules. “Stay close to me. If something feels wrong, or you hear something that didn’t come from either of us, you tell me. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. You’ll be okay,” He smiles, his hand resting once more on your thigh. “I’ll keep you safe.”

You smile back at him.

Without it being said, you trust Joel with your life. He’s taken it upon himself to look after you since your dad passed, even after insisting that he shouldn’t bother. But his persistence was impeccable and slowly, Joel became a constant entity in your life. And if there is anyone you could rely on to save you from any danger, it’s him.

If he and Ellie survived traveling all the way from Boston to Wyoming, a ride to the lookout tower would be nothing but a walk in the park.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

You try to hide your discomfort as you glance at Joel, huffing out your pain as the horse continues to jog you on his back. You and Joel have been riding for almost two hours and it was after the first stop that your lower back began to protest getting back on the horse and riding further up the incline of the ridge.

You thought you’d be okay, that you came prepared for the intensity of being a ranger. But with each step the horse takes and even with just a small bump on the dirt path, your back screams for you to stop.

“It’s my back.” You admit, frowning to yourself as you try to keep still to at least alleviate any of the pain. “It’s my first time riding.”

You hear him sigh and it’s enough to make you feel worse. You broke a rule; you didn’t tell him that something was wrong when he specifically told you to do so.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks, concern laced in his voice.

“How far til we get there?”

“About twenty more minutes if we keep this pace. Five if we run.” He confirms, moving his horse closer to yours before pointing up ahead at the tower that grows larger by the second. “Can you hold up til we’re there?”

“Yeah,” You agree breathlessly. “I can manage.”

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as soon as you arrive at the foot of the tower. You steer your horse by the stairs and grip tightly on the saddle as you try to ease yourself down. But Joel is quick, his hand already reaching for your hip while the other makes to grab your hand and free your grip on the pommel.

“Nice and easy, sweetheart.” He says softly. “Arm around my shoulders.”

You do as you’re told and wrap your arms around his neck, allowing your legs to freely slide off the back of the animal. Though before your feet could even touch the ground, Joel hooks his arm under your legs, effectively carrying you as he makes his way to the steps of the tower.

“You don’t have to, Joel.” You tell him, feeling awkward to be carried like some child. “I can walk.”

“Can you?” You blink in surprise at his sternness. “It’s four flights of stairs.”

Four? You look up at the tower and swallow thickly upon seeing how high it is up close. You want to say no and agree to have him carry to the top but you’re unsure if Joel would even make it himself. He’s not that old, and the strength he shows is usually unmatched for a man his age. But you’d rather be cautious than selfish and the last thing you want is to injure the both of you and have the others come to your rescue—that is if the infected or raiders don’t get to you first.

So, you gauge the pain that radiates from your pelvis and throughout your lower back, determining that if you pace yourself properly, you’ll be able to make it without much hassle.

“I’ll keep up.” You tell him earnestly. “If I fall, I’ll call for help.”

You think for a split second that he would agree with you and put you down but from the way his mouth slants and his forehead creases, you can already tell that he’s made up his mind.

“I promised your daddy I’d take care of you before he died.” He says as he begins climbing up the steps, your eyes suddenly stinging with unshed tears at the mention of him. “So that’s what I’ll do.”

You acquiesce to his decision and stay silent on the way up, keeping your arms locked around his shoulders while looking toward the trees scattering over at the next ridge over. The small ranger’s cottage takes your attention and your mind flutters into a daydream, thinking how peaceful it would have been to stay there alone and pass the time enjoying the scenery before the world went to shit.

You gasp in surprise when a couple of infected appear out of the blue, their screeches and grunts echoing throughout the vast clearing. You sense Joel stop from his ascent and you look up to meet his eyes, the worry ever-present in his hazel orbs.

“Infected.” You whisper and look back to the cottage, Joel following your line of sight, grunting before resuming his climb.

“We’ll take care of them.” He drones, his breathing slightly labored. “But we’ll take care of you first.”

The lookout tower is larger than you’ve anticipated, cleaner, and very much intact than the ones you’ve come across before. With the tower being the farthest checkpoint from Jackson, you’re certain that some of the night patrollers camp out here when the sun gets too low and the ride back is too dangerous to take. The single mattress lying in the corner is enough to prove your theory. And the cabinets lined on one side of the wall and locked shut with chains, you don’t doubt that it’s stocked full of supplies.

“You get comfortable,” Joel says as he takes you to the bed, a groan escaping his lips when he bends his knees and gently sets you down.

He makes quick work of you, hands taking hold of the straps of your pack and peeling it off your shoulders along with your leather jacket. Setting your things aside, he kneels in front of you and takes his bag next, flipping open the flap of a pocket and taking out an orange bottle with several pills sitting inside.

“How painful is it?” He asks. “From one to ten with ten being the highest.”

“A six?” You answer him, unsure.

You watch him hum in thought while he stares at the bottle, popping off the cap soon after and slipping two round white tablets into his palm.

“Better to take two, just to be sure you’ll be okay on our way back.” He states, taking your hand in his and placing the medicine in your hand. “Though you might get a little incoherent with it so best to lay down.”

Without hesitation, you toss the pills in your mouth and take the bottle of water he offers you to wash them down. You’re caught off guard when he suddenly places his hand on your cheek when you finish, your spine tensing as he runs his thumb across your lower lip—the gesture feeling too intimate—before pulling it down and urging you to open your mouth.

“Let me see.” He commands.

And you furrow your brow in confusion as to why he has to. You keep your mouth close but the tick in his jaw startles you. Doesn’t he trust you taking the pills? He wouldn’t be angry over that, would he? But nonetheless, you choose to disobey and part your lips for him to see your empty mouth.

“Good girl.” He grins and moves his finger under your chin to close your mouth again. But he keeps his hand on your face, his thumb rubbing light circles on the apple of your cheek before he pulls away, seeing the reluctance swimming in his eyes. “I’ll take care of the infected and keep guard while you rest. The medicine should kick in soon.” He says before taking hold of your shoulder and giving you a gentle push to lay down on the mattress.

You frown up at him. You should be helping him guard the tower and keep an eye on the perimeter yet here you are, first day on the job and you’re already a liability. Joel seems to notice your distress and places a hand on your hip, his fingers tickling the exposed skin.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me how to patrol the area.” You hiccup. “But you’re taking care of me instead. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be.” He coos and scoots a little closer to you. “This is all part of learning and we’ve learned that you need more practice on horseback.” He chuckles lightly but the mirth in his voice doesn’t penetrate your melancholy. “I’ll teach you how to ride when we get back home, but for now, rest. I won’t be able to defend you when you’re in pain.”

“Okay. Thank you, Joel.” You mumble and then groan when you start feeling light-headed. “I’ll just close my eyes for a bit.” You tell him, blinking your eyes several times when your vision goes blurry.

His response comes out muffled and you think it’s because the meds have finally entered your bloodstream. You don’t fight the drowsiness that consumes you, instead, you give in. The feeling of your shirt riding up your torso is the last thing you feel before the darkness completely takes over.

The sound of gunshots fills your dreams as the darkness continues to keep your consciousness at bay. A cool sensation kisses your skin, a groan which you cannot place coming from the void. You think it's you but you’re certain it’s someone else, though all thoughts fly away as you feel your body being moved, a tickle trailing from your calf and up to your inner thighs.

Your core burns and you mewl at the weird feeling building in the pit of your stomach. You try to move your hands, wanting to put a stop to it but your arms feel heavy, effectively pinning you to the bed. The fire grows stronger, heat prickling your entire body and you hear yourself once more, moaning softly and then loudly all at once.

You wake in a jolt, your eyes bursting wide as you pant heavily against the mattress, your hips trembling and your heart pounding wildly in your chest. You stare at the ceiling, dumbstruck as you try to piece together where you are. But you have trouble forming your thoughts when you feel your skin tingling once more.

You look down to see what’s causing it but your heart constricts when you see that you’re naked from the waist down, the top of Joel’s head resting against your stomach while he plants wet kisses on the length of your hips. His hand is unseen but your feel it caressing your inner thigh, a strangled groan escaping your throat as his fingers run up the folds of your wet cunt.

“Joel!” You shout and try to move your arms to push him away but you grunt instead, your body still too heavy for you to even move an inch.

“Sweetheart—” He drones and lifts himself to his knees, your eyes growing wide in fear when you see him stripped off of his pants, leaving him in only his shirt and boxers briefs. “You’re awake.”

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” Your voice trembles when you meet his hazel eyes. “What’s g-going on?”

A smile forms on his lips, one that looks kind and unassuming. But the way his jaw tightens and his nails digging painfully into your flesh, you immediately know that his sentiment is the complete opposite.

“I’m fulfilling my promise, baby.” Joel hums, taking both your hands in his and lifting them to his lips to press a kiss on your knuckles before pinning them on both sides of your head. “I’m taking care of you.” Tears slip from your eyes when he leans down, his lips pressing on the crook of your neck before trailing them up to your chin and finally capturing your lips with his own.

He starts out soft and gentle, exploring more than taking as if trying to savor the moment with you. But he becomes demanding all too quickly, forcing his tongue into your mouth and devouring your hungrily, swallowing your moans of protest as you try to struggle against him and free yourself from his grasp. Still, his grip on you is too strong and your efforts are useless as your body refuses to cooperate with your head.

You try to bite his tongue, to at least gain a sense of control of the situation but he pulls away just in time, a low and dangerous growl rumbling from his chest that has you cowering in dread. He furrows his brows and releases his hold on you, only to wrap his hand tight around your neck, panic driving you to move your hand and grab onto his wrist but your lack of strength leaves you helpless to his anger.

“I’d be good if I were you, baby.” Joel taunts, releasing your other hand and reaching down to cup his crotch before pulling himself free from his boxers. “We’re far away from Jackson and who’s to say you didn’t accidentally fall down the stairs and hit your head or that you were reckless and got a little too close to an infected and got yourself bit, huh?”

You gasp in shock at his words, fear running up your spine that he would insinuate such things blatantly.

“You wouldn’t—” You choke.

“You don’t think I can, sweetheart?” He laughs darkly, a reluctant moan escaping your lips when he begins rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt. “You think Michael was stupid enough to get himself bit?”

It's as if the world stood still when you hear your father’s name come out of his mouth.

No.

He must have been jumped while patrolling the area, the infected outnumbering him and eventually leading him to his demise. But he had a partner then, surely they would have helped him right? You try to wrack your brain for information, something you missed while you were grieving your father’s death.

Then it hits you.

He was with Joel that night. It was him that brought his body back to the settlement.

It can’t be—Joel couldn’t have—

“Don’t worry yourself, baby.” Joel pulls you away from your thoughts, a devious smirk painted on his lips. “I promised him I’d take care of you, remember?”

“You murderer!” You shout but your voice dwindles down when he suddenly thrusts his cock in you, pain flaring on your hips as your walls stretch around him, his size too much to handle that you feel like you’ll be split in half.

He groans when he sits himself to the hilt, your pussy walls fluttering around him when he pulls back slowly only to push in once more, your body rocking against the mattress as he begins to roll his hips against yours, thrusting at an easy and languid pace.

“It’s just gonna be you and me, baby.” He drawls, a low grunt mixing in his voice with each thrust he makes.

His hand leaves your neck and moves to grab your tit through your shirt, fondling and squeezing while his other hand presses down on your stomach, his thumb rolling against your clit. Your body writhes from the unwanted pleasure that slowly crawls up your skin, your back tensing, and your cunt fluttering around his cock when he begins to quicken his pace, the sound of your skin slapping against each other taking over the silence that fills the lookout tower and echoes loudly in your ears.

Joel doesn’t relent and you lay weakly on the bed, succumbing to his strength and torturous depravity. Your tears roll down your face as you think of how it came to this. He killed your father for reasons you don’t know and now he’s taking advantage of you, betraying the trust that you have willingly given him and tainting the way you saw him, how you treated him as family.

He snaps his hips at a merciless rhythm, his pace growing erratic and desperate as he pulls away his hand from your waist only to grab onto your hand and pin it once again at the sides of your head. He growls and presses his forehead against yours, his musky scent mixed with the smell of your arousal wafting in your nose.

“Your mine, baby.” He groans.

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his cock slide deeper in you, your mouth hanging open as you try to gasp for air, the intensity of his lust suffocating you, squeezing you tight. You let out a cry once your core begins to burn, the coil within tightening further and further that your mind goes blank from the bliss that wants to escape yet fight hard to keep your release at bay to not give him that satisfaction of bringing you such pleasure.

He whispers your name and you moan when he kisses you once more, sloppy and wreckless, teeth clashing against each other then yelping in pain when he bites down on your lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood scattering on your tongue.

“You feel so amazing, baby.” He groans as he presses his nose against your temple, his warm breath fanning over your face as you cry out once more when you feel yourself getting closer to your peak. “You’re so perfect—so mine.” His voice is low and possessive, his hand leaving your clit and hooking his finger into your mouth, pushing it down to keep your mouth agape.

You move your arm to wrap your fingers around his wrist, gripping it tightly as your spine arches and your body stills, a wave of sheer pleasure consuming you, drowning you when the coil finally snaps and you fall apart around him. Your pussy walls flutter around him and you moan incoherently, your juices coating his cock, lubricating him further and allowing him to thrust even faster, deeper.

But he doesn’t take long, stilling his hips and burying himself deep into your core, whimpering when spills his seed inside you, mixing with your own essence. Your name flows from his lips like a prayer as he keeps his face pressed on the side of yours with his lips sloppily moving against your cheek.

You're breathless and limp against the mattress, your body void of strength, and your mind slowly giving up and giving in to Joel's desires. You think of running away, of leaving Jackson and getting away from him. But you know such attempts are a suicide mission and without your dad, you're unsure of how far you'll make it before you get killed or before Joel catches up with you.

“I’ll take care of you, baby.” He repeats once more, unhooking his finger from your mouth and trailing his hand down to your breast, stopping to rest it over your stomach with his fingers lightly caressing your skin.

Your body shivers from his touch the implication bringing you dread. “And pretty soon, we’ll have a family of our own.”

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