#Need more flower husbands content IMMEDIATELY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnasweetss · 4 months

Text

to love and to cherish. | l.hs

genre: smut, very minimal plot, fluff (a pinch.)

characters: husband/dad!heeseung, wife/mom!reader, “uncle”!jake at the end, seung (reader & heeseung’s son)

wc: 2.8k

content below cut. (plz read…or you’ll be v surprised…)

content: established relationship, mentions of pregnancy & marriage, domestication, reader is a stay at home mom, body insecurity, body description, SLIGHTTTT dacryphilia, lactation, love making, tit play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (hun, love, baby, etc.), praise, etc etc…

A /N: i’m experimenting in my writing (still tame imo)! this might not be everyone’s cup of tea n that’s ok <3 thanks for reading!!

"dinner looks great, hun." heeseung slides in, slipping a hand around your waist from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek. it startles you, whipping your head around to him, soft smile plastered on his face.

"Didn't hear you come in." you mumble, returning his smile before you continue the dishes. "Got you something." he pulls away, shuffling behind you, "give me a second, hee." you need to finish these dishes tonight. it'll be pain the ass tomorrow if you don't. "Did you put Seung to bed? Told you I wanted to see him, hun." he says, immediately noticing how quiet the house is tonight. lights dimmed, living room picked up and neat instead of the usual plethora of toys. "he got fussy."

"Baby, come on-" he nags, only because you have barely looked at him since he stepped in. no 'how was work, honey?' and a cheerful smile like usual.

"Give me a minute, heeseung!"

there's a long pause in the air, making you immediately regret raising your voice, dropping the plate in your hand back into the soapy water, "I'm sorry."

heeseung told you to not let it get like that. he told you to not stress yourself out when you both found out you were pregnant. he knew this would happen. it was inevitable. but you promised him. "Look at me."

"Oh, hee..." you immediately soften, face falling into your hands once you see the beautiful, huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. he sets the bouquet down on the island, quickly moving to wrap his arms around your crying figure. you quickly accept the embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Why are you crying?" he chuckles, rubbing his hand on your back soothingly. "I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, love." he pulls you off of him, wiping away your tears. "so pretty." he leans in to kiss you, using his thumbs to wipe the rest of the stray tears.

Heeseung is so good to you. he always has been. when you met him six years ago, when you married him three years ago, and when you gave him his firstborn a year and a half ago. his love has been unconditional, unwavering, always consistent. all you could ask for and more.

"I told you not to stress yourself out. You can ask me for help." he's smiling, despite your continued tears. you feel so awful. "But you're working-" he stops you there, "so are you, love." he knows that being a stay at home mom is a lot, a lot more demanding than his silly little corporate job. "what are you handwashing the dishes for, anyway? we've got a dishwasher."

"cause, it's a lot to run it..." he sighs, face shifting to a scowl. he hates when you talk about the price of things, bills, anything with money. "It's not, and that's not for you to worry about." it's firm, almost scolding. but you know it's just because of the many times he's had to tell you to not worry about the bills. not that you've seen one in years.

"Get in bed. I'll finish up." he pulls away then, moving to the sink. you scurry behind him, grabbing a vase to put the flowers in. "Bed, babe. I'll do that too."

"let me warm up your food-" he doesn't have to say much, turning with a dissatisfied expression across his face as he leans on the counter. "Get upstairs." you know better than to argue after the third time, so, you do as told.

...

he joins you just an hour later, walking in on you fumbling with the baby monitor, making sure it's on and working before you set it on the bedside table. he eyes you, wet hair stuck to your shoulders and neck, saturating the t shirt you have on.

he grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bathroom. he places you infront of the mirror, reaching for the hair dryer in the cabinet. "Did you even towel dry it? you're soaking."

"Thought I heard Seung crying..." you mumble, heeseung running a brush through your hair. "That hairdryer- Dyson. it's so expensive. you won't even use it."he grabs a towel, gently drying each lock of your hair, then your neck and shoulders.

"I do use it!" five times since he got it for you during Christmas. You'd brought it up maybe once, showing him a video on TikTok of some influencer using it. it was probably the millionth video you'd showed him. still, he paid attention. "Sometimes." he agrees, flashing you a playful smile in the mirror.

"you don't have work to do?" you look at him through the mirror, squeezing the water out of your hair with the towel. "Work? While i'm at home with my wife?" he turns on the hairdryer after, running it over your now damp hair.

this week he's been coming home without his laptop. spending almost no time in his office downstairs, instead getting into bed with you every night after work.

you hadn't said it out loud, but he knew you were bothered by sleeping first. sleeping next to an empty space that he only filled from the hours of 1am to 6am. disappearing into his office right after dinner. you continue watching him through the mirror, fond smile on you lips as he finishes. his eyes catch yours, mouthing a playful "what?" before he shifts his eyes back to your hair.

he turns off the hair dryer, using a brush to smooth out the now dry hair. he guides you out the bathroom, stopping you in front of your shared dresser.

reaching for the bottom of your tee, he pulls it up, only stopping when you step back and push his hands away. "come on, you gotta get out of this. it's wet."

"I'll do it." "Babe, really."

you surrender at that, raising your arms so he can lift your shirt above your head and get you a new one. Only he has his gaze locked on yours...trying to remember the last time he was intimate with you. the last time he saw you undressed. you notice his expression change, unfamiliar glint in his eyes.

had it really been that long?

"What, hee? you're staring..." you ask worriedly, afraid he might not like what he sees. you damn sure don't look like the woman he married, not after having his child.

each time you look in the mirror you're reminded, each time you look at your wedding pictures, each time you get naked infront of him, each time you look at your son.

your arm lays against your chest, holding your breasts as you reach for another shirt. Heeseung's way quicker, grabbing your arm before you can reach it. "Wait."

his lips are on yours seconds later, pulling your body flush against his, trapping you in a very passionate kiss.

you know what he wants when he kisses you like that. when he pulls you in by your waist and holds your cheek with one hand. when he lifts you up and takes you bed, placing you against the mattress softly. your stomach flutters with excitement, eager to experience a different type of intimacy with him.

he pulls away, pulling at his tie with one hand and letting it fall to the ground, undoing a few buttons of his shirt after.

he connects your lips again as wall as your groins, grinding softly through kisses. it's enough to get you worked up, moaning into the kiss when he gropes at a tit.

he gives it some love with his mouth too, sucking one and squeezing the other. its enough to stimulate your ducts, breasts tingling as they secrete milk. he purposely squeezes a nipple, milk spilling from the ducts, as you squirm beneath him. his skilled hands force a moan from you, his tongue swirling as he sucks, likely making your other breast leak too.

his hips rut against yours, grunting at the little bit of friction it gives. he's gotta get out of these slacks, and fast. he pulls his mouth away, kissing down your chest and abdomen, paying special attention to those areas he knows youre insecure about.

your lower belly that's riddled with stretch marks and hips that look the same from carrying his child. he wouldn't trade you for the world, not when you've given him the best gift on gods earth. a family.

he pulls your night shorts down with one motion, doing the same with your panties before he spreads your legs. his kisses move to your thighs, stopping when he reaches your core. he moves your hips to the edge of the bed, kneeling before you. "Fuck.." he feels his mouth water just looking, pushing your legs before he dips his head between your thighs.

six years and every time feels like the first. six years and neither of you can get enough.

he always takes his time, soft kisses against your pussy to start, soft licks against your clit when he slides his tongue through your folds, huge hands that knead at the flesh of your thighs to stimulate you even more. he gradually moves to sucking, tongue flat against the little bundle of nerves, forcing moan from you.

your eyes flutter closed, sinking further into the mattress as you reach for his hands.

your fingers intertwine perfectly, much like they did the first time you two met in college. he was sweet then, he's even sweeter now. always, always so compassionate and caring, even more since you've gotten married.

he watches from between your legs. eyes shut, brows furrowed, mouth agape as you let out the prettiest moans. matching the pretty expression you have.

he knows you like the back of his hand, sucking your clit just how you like it. your back arching off the bed tells him so. especially when you remove a hand from his, sliding it through his hair instead to swirl your hips.

"oh, god- hee!"

he can hear your breath quickening. short and shallow through endless curses as your orgasm builds. "fuck, baby, i'm cumming!" it hits you like a truck, heeseung moaning as you cum right on his tongue, nothing else. holding your hips steady so he can eat you through it. through the soft convulsions and quiet moans, hands that grip his and his hair.

heeseung finally pulls his lips way, rising from the floor with lips coated in your arousal. he doesn't lick them, keeps them wet and moist so he can lean down and kiss you. he's letting you taste yourself as well, sliding his tongue past your lips to give you sloppy, wet kisses.

you pull at his button up, pulling it from his slacks, moving to remove his belt right after. you pull away from the kiss, pulling at the buttons with frantic hands. "help me, hee..." you mumble, looking up at the man above you. he forces you both up, reaching to unbutton his pants as you work on those damn buttons.

"take your time, darlin'. Im not going anywhere." he kisses your forehead gently, capturing your lips again once you finish. you push his shirt off his shoulders, only satisfied when you hear it make contact with the wood flooring below. "tell me how you want me." you barely manage to get out between kisses. he doesn't respond for a minute, focusing on kissing you before he makes up his mind.

"bend over." he pants, catching his breath from the very heated kiss. you do as instructed, turning around to bend over for him. his hands immediately attach to your hips, one hand pressing against the small of your back, guiding you into position. "Arch that back, yeah..." he pulls you back against his dick, hard length sitting right between your ass. he retracts, sliding his length through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

you can feel him line himself up with your entrance, head of his cock just barely penetrating, pausing before he decides to fully slip inside. a soft cry leaves you, leaning yourself away from the intrusion that has your walls stretching. "Uh-ah, keep that back arched for me baby." that makes you whine, forcing yourself back into position as he pulls you right back on his cock. "Good girl..." he coos, hand rubbing softly against your back to soothe you, legs already trembling just from him sliding in.

he takes you painfully slow, pulling half his length out, pushing it back in, in a long drawn out movement. his eyes are stuck right where you suck him back in, despite your little noises that tell him you're struggling with it. he barely has to move his hips, you're pushing back on him likely without even realizing.

"Fuck," his dick is soaked, coated in your wetness, glistening in the soft light coming from your bedside lamp. He grabs both hips, taking over your soft and cautious movements, replacing them with his own. Still slow, but much deeper, holding your ass to his hips each time he pushes himself back in.

"Taking it so good, baby." heeseung doesn't know why you're always so caught up in your own thoughts. each time he fucks you like this, you forget all about your silly little insecurities. It's all proof of the woman you are today, anyway. the mother and wife he's built within you.

"Hee..." you reach a hand back to hold his, heeseung quickly pinning your arm behind your back, hand clasped within yours. His movements increase, throwing his own head back as your body drives him to near madness. you sink further down, hand knitting into the soft fabric of your cream coloured duvet.

so deep, so big. he's hitting all the right spots, bending over you to reach and grab a tit. he squeezes at the flesh, mouth steady kissing on your shoulder as he fucks you near completion. the both of you. "fuck, baby! harder!" nothing but a word, he happily obliges. he's been waiting for you to say it since he started. "Yeah?" his breaths shallow and short as he fucks into you harder, a loud moan of approval from you forcing a smirk on his lips. "Yes! god, heeseung!" from his lips on your neck, to the way his balls repeatedly slap against your clit, you're already there before you realise. "Like that, yeah, let it out."

you grab at his flexed arms beside you, crying out as you both ride out your orgasm together. Heeseung's hips stutter as cums inside you, sloppy uncoordinated thrusts pushing more waves of pleasure through you. "Shit." He blinks through the haziness coursing through his body, only pulling out when both of your breaths return to normal.

you stay even when heeseung leaves, relaxing your body against the bed. he comes back, turning you back over so he can clean you up, laying next to you right after.

comfortable silence fills the air, heeseung pulling you into his arms when you snuggle up close. "I love you, hee."

"I love you more, baby."

...

"Say hi!" you grab your sons arm, waving at the man in the doorway. "My big man! Say hi to uncle Jake." he takes the baby from your arms, bouncing him in his. "Where's your dad, big man? always leaving mommy to do the work, huh?" you move to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker for heeseung.

"Dad is doing laundry." Heeseung emerges, passing Jake the diaper bag. You furrow your brows at that, heeseung hadn't said anything about Jake taking Seung. "Morning." he slips behind you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Seung is-"

"You need a break." he quickly interjects, eyebrows raising when you don't immediately respond. "What? You don't wanna spend some time with me?" it's sly, the way his hand slips under your shirt to grab the soft flesh of your ass. "I was the only man in your life at one point, you know." he smiles, moving his hand back to a more appropriate position. "Whatever." you laugh, eyes shifting over to Jake who's preoccupied with your son. You slip past heeseung, going to say your goodbyes. "Thanks, Jake. You really-"

Heeseung's familiar hiss of disapproval stops you. Jake simply laughing, "It's all good. My girlfriend wants to see him anyway. she calls it playing 'house'."

"Marry her and have your own, dude." heeseung comes over, kissing his son’s cheek. "Yeah, yeah." he's always dismissive when the topic comes up, but you know he's just waiting on the right time. "I'll take off then." Jake smiles at the both you before he makes his way to the front door. Heeseung pulls you in as you both wave Jake and your son goodbye.

"Let's have another one."

#cinnasweetss #enhypen #smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #lee heesung x reader #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #sim jake #enhypen jake #enhablr #enha smut #enhypen x reader #cinnasweetss: tltc

727 notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month

Text

Chapter 6: Best Friends Forever

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 9.9K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), derogatory comments, sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, little bit of homophobia (It's Soldier Boy). Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: I know I said I was gonna be more angsty with this chapter, but I got distracted, the sun was in my eyes, and my hand slipped…

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The next morning Mike’s screeching begins all over again, but today he starts with "My Girl" by the Temptations.

He's getting warmer.

You think with a smile, singing along to the song under your breath as you prop yourself up on your pillows with a content sigh. The smell of gardenia wafted over your bed in a gentle wave as your curtains opened, allowing the sunlight to drift over your bed. The beautiful white flowers bloomed from the plant sitting on your bedside table, each petal frosted with mist from the mister hanging on the wall behind it.

Gardenias reminded you of home. They were your grandmother's favorite. There were several large bushes gracing the front yard of her home that rose almost as high as the second story. Whenever you were back home you would make sure that they burst into bloom so she could fill her home with the sweet smelling flowers. It helped you relax and sleep at night, though sometimes it didn't do much to keep the nightmares away.

You hadn't had a good night sleep in a while, but after Ben and you had been up late putting together the bookshelf that stood proudly in the left corner of your bedroom, you were exhausted. Now it was filled with your worn brightly colored paperbacks and covered with a healthy amount of pothos vines as was everything else in your home, but you loved it.

When the delivery men had arrived late yesterday evening and they had been more than willing to carry the couch up the three flights of stairs, but Ben had told them to leave and said "I'm not some kind of pussy that waits for her fucking husband to come home because she needs him to change a lightbulb."

And so they left, leaving Ben and you with the box your unassembled bookshelf came in and a giant three piece couch.

Mike's mother had set up a folding chair with her best friend Mary Ann outside on the sidewalk, drinking glasses of wine and giggling like schoolgirls each time Ben and you came back down to haul another piece of the couch back up into the apartment. He tried to make you sit upstairs and wait for him to bring it in, but you had cussed him out and held up the only finger that mattered.

Putting together the bookshelf hadn't been that much better. Ben had almost broken two of the tiny wooden pegs that secured the back panel all the while cursing under his breath when you tried to show him the instructions.

And being in the presence of the instructions seemed to trigger Ben. It immediately turned the two of you into the couple in the car that bicker over a map before they get murdered in a horror movie.

The shouting got so loud that Mike raced over hopeful that Ben had broken your heart and that he would there to pick up the pieces, while Mike's mother followed in quick pursuit hoping to console Ben.

But when Ben had answered the door sweaty and shirtless- because you'd ripped his shirt on accident when he tried to walk away from you muttering something about "women and their fucking instructions" and you'd grabbed him while shouting "say it to my face you geriatric asshat!"- Mike thought that he had interrupted something else and retreated back to his apartment in shame while his mother stood in the hallway waving a hand in front of her face to calm down.

As annoying as Ben was, you loved the bookshelf. It was perfect for your bedroom and looked a little whimsical, which was how most of your apartment looked with the mismatched vintage furniture, all the plants, and the crocheted blankets. What you couldn't figure out was why he bought it for you.

You had relented on his purchase of the couch, because it did make sense, he was spending the most time on it, but his purchase of the bookshelf confused you. He'd been in your bedroom all of five minutes a few days ago and had only looked at the pile of vine covered books once.

So why did it bother him so much that I had a pile of books on the floor of my bedroom? Why did he have to buy it for me? Why did he care enough to?

No one had ever done that before for you. Your high school boyfriend, Newton, had seen the same pile of books in your bedroom back home every time he came over and never did anything about it, but Ben had only seen it for a moment and remembered.

I don’t understand why he’s acting so nice. You stretch your hands up over your head and begin to get out of bed. Probably because he thinks if he’s nice I’ll sleep with him.

The thought was becoming familiar, but you weren't sure what other reason it could be for. The two of you had nothing in common. He was always angry, sexually forward, annoying, not to mention he was from another century and he didn't understand anything about the present time.

I mean sometimes it's kinda cute how clueless he is about stuff like that. He always gets that adorable frown and- Nope, nope, nope not thinking about that right now.

Bean purrs in agreement with your thought at the end of your bed, stretching his front legs and arching his back. His charcoal fur looks almost silver in the light from the sun that streams through the open window leaving behind the imprint of the brilliant square on your comforter.

Bean had enjoyed watching the two of you put together the bookshelves, well, he enjoyed playing in the box that the bookshelf came in. He ran in and out, back and forth through the openings on both sides of the box, using it like a tunnel all the while Ben complained over the small screws and even smaller pegs that never seemed to fit where they needed to.

Personally you just think Ben was jealous that you knew how to read the instructions and he didn't.

And last night you understood just how bad Ben was at receiving directions. He had ignored you when you tried to help him, which had lead to the yelling match that Mike walked in on.

But you still didn’t understand why he cared so much about the pile of books in your bedroom. They'd been sitting there since you moved in, because you hadn't found a proper place for them, not to mention the pile just kept growing.

At least he didn't look too closely at the titles. The last thing I want Ben to know is how many romance novels I read.

You grab a bundle of your clothes and open your bedroom door, while Mike continues to sing "My Girl." You creep down the hallway, intent on taking a shower, but your curiosity gets the better of you, so instead of going to the bathroom, you peek into the living room.

Ben is sitting on the new charcoal couch that you crammed into the room, reading a newspaper and you have no idea where he got it.

Maybe he already left sometime this morning? Guess he can be quiet when he wants to be.

Bean prances down the hallway behind you and jumps onto the back of the couch, kneading his paws in the soft pillows, before dropping down next to Ben. Ben smiles at the cat and folds the newspaper closed so he can scratch him under the chin.

"Hey buddy." You hear him mutter. "Y/n up yet?"

Bean only purrs and rubs himself further into Ben's hand.

"Don't know how anyone can sleep with that jack-off next door." Ben rolls his eyes, but doesn't raise them from the cat that has begun to crawl into his lap. "Why does she hate me so much?" He whispers to Bean with a sigh.

His question made you freeze where you were standing in the hallway. It was so open, so honest, so completely unlike Ben. It was the last thing you were expecting him to ask your cat, well, honestly you didn't think that he would talk to the cat at all. You suddenly wondered what other things he said about you when you weren't around.

And why does he care so much if I hate him? I mean I don't, he just gets on my nerves constantly, and knows how to press all my buttons.

You liked to think that you were an easy-going person, but Ben drove you crazy. You'd never met anyone who could do that to you before, never allowed yourself to get angry, not even when Poppy Mansfield who put chocolate pudding on your seat at lunchtime when you were in fourth grade and made everyone think you'd pooped your pants. You'd only shrugged and walked to the bathroom, it was Annie who lost it. Annie had grabbed a handful of pudding and smeared it on Poppy's face and earned her the nickname "Poopy Poppy" until she transferred to another school at the end of the year.

But not with Ben, he crawled under your skin and stayed there whenever he teased you . Usually you let insults and teases roll off your back like water off a duck, but not with Ben. He knew what to say to make you lose your temper. You didn't know how he did that.

Not all the time though.

The trip to IKEA had been kind of fun, well, fun until Ben had insulted your boss and when the two of you watched a movie together it was fun.

In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you were starting to like him. You wish you didn't. It just made everything harder. You remember what he said at the plant shop, tried to burn it into your heart, that he didn't care about feelings or emotions and you did. You wanted to be with someone who cared about that, someone who understood everything about you, and loved you. You wanted love so bad your heart ached sometimes, and yes maybe you read way too many romance novels, but you wanted something like that to happen to you. You wanted to be so wrapped up in someone else that the world faded away, someone kind and sweet, who remembered little things like how much you liked gardenias or how much you loved pineapple iced tea from the place just around the corner and someone who would be okay with sitting on the couch or in bed, with you laying back in their arms while you read your newest book or tried to crochet.

Ben didn't care about any of that, probably what he would call "pussy shit." He just wanted sex, plain and simple, nothing more, nothing less.

And you didn't want just sex.

You didn't want to start something with Ben, develop strong feelings for him, and then only have him push you away as soon as he got what he wanted. You couldn't handle having your heart broken again. Newton had been enough and after him you told yourself you were going to try harder, were going to find someone who saw your self-worth. Of course that had been a few years ago and each year kinda felt like another nail in the coffin when you went on countless dates with people who never seemed to want the same things you did.

Plus, you were sure that Ben was only interested in you because you kept saying no and that made you "exciting" or whatever. So that just meant you were going to have to keep trying to find someone else.

You take a step back into the hallway, creeping further away as silent as possible. You didn't want him to catch you spying on him and you didn't want him to know that you had heard him ask Bean that. You force your door closed, before putting your clothes in the bathroom and shuffling down the hallway, purposely being as loud as you can so Ben can hear you over Mike's inhuman screech.

“Good morning.” You say as you enter the living room, as if it’s the first time.

“Morning Petals.” Ben looks over the back of the couch. He smirks as his eyes trace over your body. “Don’t you look delicious this morning.”

Your shorts were a little shorter than what you usually wore, hitting the middle of your thigh, and the oversized shirt you wore hung over them giving the illusion that you weren't wearing anything underneath it.

He is so confusing sometimes. Maybe he really just doesn't know how to talk to a woman in this century. Did that really work for him before? Does that work with all his dates?

“Thanks.” You say dryly.

Ben’s smirk twitches and something passes through his eyes that looks a little bit like regret, but it’s gone as soon as you see it.

You turn towards the kitchen. You didn’t know what you were looking for, truthfully you were just making conversation because you felt bad about what Ben asked Bean. You didn't know why that hurt you so much for him to think that you hated him, maybe it had something to do with everything that he'd been through. You wave a hand, perking up the plants in the box over the sink and the raspberry and blackberry vines covering the refrigerator to distract yourself.

“Um-“ You begin, but Ben interrupts you.

“There’s coffee in the microwave!” Ben suddenly blurts.

“What?”

Why is it in the microwave? Shouldn't it be in the coffee maker?

You sniff the air for the tell-tale smell of coffee, but smell nothing. A glance in the direction of the coffee maker reveals that the pot is still sparkling clean from when you washed it out last night.

Is he really lying about coffee? It's like he wants me to hate him.

“Um I mean-“ Ben clears his throat. “I got you coffee.”

“You got me coffee?” You parrot, surprised. “When?” You turn to look at him. He's watching you from over the back of the couch and he almost looks a little awkward, like he's not sure where to go from here as if he's not sure what to do when he does something nice for someone.

“I went to get a newspaper and I walked past a coffee shop.” He shrugs as if suddenly uninterested turning back around to face the jasmine covered wall, picking his newspaper up and opening it.

But you have a suspicion that he wasn't actually reading it, that he was just using it as a prop so he didn't have to look at you anymore.

“Oh. Thanks." You open up the microwave and withdrawal the still warm coffee mug taking a sip.

How in the fuck did he know how I like my coffee? You think to yourself, about to do a spit take you were so shocked, because the coffee was perfect. "How did you know-"

"I read the label on the one plant boy bought you the other day." Ben doesn't look up from his newspaper. "Is it… okay?" He asks it tentatively and a little awkward.

"Yeah. It's perfect actually. Thank you." You say it almost robotically. You couldn't believe that he remembered something like that about you. That he actually thought about you when he went to get a newspaper this morning.

He grunts a "You're welcome."

You take another sip and place it back in the microwave. Preparing to go back to take a shower.

"Do you…" Ben clears his throat again. "Do you work today?" He says it hesitantly.

"No. I usually have Friday's off because Annie and I make plans, but this week she cancelled because Hughie got tickets to some concert a few hours away and they're making it a day trip or whatever." You tried not to sound disappointed, but Friday's were usually you and Annie's day. You would plan random trips to shops in NYC, go to brunch, find ridiculous tourist attractions, try new restaurants, or you would go spend the day in Central Park reading. But Friday nights were wine, greasy pizza, sushi, Chinese food, snacks, and movie nights, had been since your parents died. It had been a family tradition before, Friday night films, but when they died Annie took it upon herself to continue it with you because your brother hadn't been willing to. Of course, when you were kids there wasn't wine, there also weren't movies with Glen Powell or Pedro Pascal, but as you grew so did the films and the conversations and the men, but your friendship blossomed with it.

"Oh." Ben leans his head back over the back of the couch, the smirk back in full force. "Well I've got a few ideas for what we could do today. Sounds like you're a little disappointed there Petals. I'm sure I could cheer you up."

You roll your eyes. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Great, I need one too." Ben jumps to his feet, leaving the newspaper on the couch as he turns to follow you.

"Ben." You sigh his name in frustration.

This is exactly what I'm talking about, he does something really nice and then he follows it up immediately by trying to sleep with me. Is that what this is to him? Do something chivalrous to make me like him and then finally let him fuck me?

It made you angry that he believed it would work.

"What? It'll save water and I just want to make you feel better Petals." Ben wiggles his eyebrows. "You sounded so sad when you said that Annie ditched you-"

"She didn't ditch me!" You snap. "She just had plans with Hughie that's all. And I can't believe you!"

"What the hell did I do?"

"You think that doing something like buying me coffee will get me to sleep with you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You're trying to act all chivalrous and nice just so that you can get me to finally sleep with you. But I'm not going to fall for it Gramps! I am not going to sleep with you just because you do one nice thing for me or try to pretend to care about me." You turn and stomp down the hallway, leaving Ben absolutely speechless in the living room.

When you get in the bathroom you blast your ABBA Gold Album from your Bluetooth speaker to drown out Mike's singing and to drown out your insane internal monologue. And when the music doesn't work, you start to sing the lyrics to the familiar songs letting the melodies soothe you.

You’d liked ABBA since you were a kid. Your mom would listen to it when she was cooking in the large kitchen in your childhood home and when your father got home from work at the end of the day he’d creep up behind her and pull her away from the stove for an impromptu dance.

Your childhood was filled with so much love from two people that were absolutely head over heels. And it made you want that too. It’s why you wouldn’t give in to Ben, because the memories of your parents and the love they shared still warmed your heart years after you’d last seen them.

You dry your hair with a towel, continuing to sing as you dress in your jeans and t-shirt, hoping that you could just escape the apartment by going to Central Park and read on your favorite bench to avoid seeing Ben. You were maybe a little embarrassed that you had yelled at him again. You never intended to.

Maybe I can just creep past him.

You think to yourself as you open the door of the bathroom, but as you step into the hallway you trip over something big on the ground and begin to pitch forward with a started screech. The thing you tripped on catches you so that you fall directly into Ben's lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. You realize that it was Ben you tripped on, who had decided to lounge with his back against one of the walls of the hallway, his legs bent at the knee, directly outside of the small bathroom.

As you fall into his lap, your hands land on his shoulders grabbing tightly in fear and surprise, while his hands catch your hips, pushing up the shirt you had just changed into enough that his hands are resting on a sliver of skin that peeks between your shirt and your favorite pair of jeans.

You weren't expecting it to feel so damn good for his skin to touch yours, to feel the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your hips. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders tightly, heart thrumming in your veins as you lock eyes with him, adrenaline from the fall still rushing through your veins. He looks as surprised as you do. His face is so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his body warm and hard beneath yours, and it's making you have flashbacks of the other night when he kissed you in front of Mike, when Ben crushed you against him and kissed you with so much passion that you couldn't equate it to anything else you'd ever felt in your entire life.

You weren't about to admit that aloud, that the kiss you shared with Ben was the best one you'd ever had. And you weren't going to admit that if he kissed that good, you were betting that he would be the best you ever had at other things too. Newton hadn't exactly been a Casanova, and you'd hoped that Newton would have gotten at least a little better at some things the more you two were intimate, he hadn't. You'd also hoped that Newton would have been more concerned about you the closer the two of you were, but each time you were a little disappointed and he was, well, happy.

No. Not thinking about sex right now, not when I'm sitting on top of Ben for fucks sake.

That was a little detail that you were trying very hard to ignore, but it was difficult, not when you could feel everything that made Ben-ahem- Ben, beginning to get interested in your position on top of him.

Ben's eyes are dark, focused on your face, an emotion swimming behind them that makes something snag under your ribs and try to yank you forward, to close the distance between the two of you. His eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth for just a millisecond, moving his face an inch forward, just enough that you can feel the warmth of his lips, but they still do not touch.

"Ben what are you doing on the ground?" You say leaning back to lengthen the distance between your faces, but you can't force your voice into more than a hoarse whisper.

"Dropped my keys." He lies.

"Ben?"

Ben hesitates for a moment. "You've got a pretty voice, wanted to hear better." He admits under his breath, looking as if you caught him with a baseball bat outside your broken kitchen window.

What?

You could feel yourself flushing to the roots of your hair. You'd forgotten that he could hear you in the shower and forgotten that his hearing was so good that he’d be able to pick up what was Mike and what was you. “I’m sorry if it was too loud-“

“No. It was nice.” The end of his mouth twitches in half smile, eyes twinkling impishly. “I’d never tell a woman she was being too loud. I like that doll."

You roll your eyes at him, but his comment doesn’t annoy you this time. You wondered if that was because you were getting used to him and the way he was.

You wanted to kiss him so badly that your lips were aching. He always looked so good and right now was not an exception. Some of his dark hair had fallen forward over his forehead and your fingers itched to push it back, to drag your fingertips over his skin and feel the dips and grooves of his handsome face. The smell of his shampoo was everywhere, spicy and familiar in the best way.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” You whisper. Your hands hands have fallen from his shoulders to rest against the front of his shirt. You don’t really remember when you did that, just that now you can feel the warmth of his chest and the subtle beating of his heart in the palms of your hands. “I think I am kind of upset that Annie cancelled on me today.”

“It’s okay, I'm used to it." Ben's hands are still on you waist, firmly keeping you on top of him. “You always seem to yell at me.”

"Shut up I do not yell at you that much." You laugh, pushing back on his chest playfully.

Ben smiles, but then you watch it drop.

“Look I didn’t get you coffee because I thought it would make you let me fuck you. I got it because you always say you need it to deal with me.” The way he says it breaks something, because he sounds almost sad and you’d never heard him sound that way before. “And I figured that I would see you today and that you’d need it.” He drops his gaze to where your hands are placed on his chest. He’s watching them curiously, like he can’t quite understand it.

Honestly you couldn’t understand what was going on either. Ben was holding you gently, almost reverently on his lap. It was odd. You’d never seen him be this way with anyone.

“Ben-“ You sigh. “I need coffee to deal with everyone, not just you. You’re not special.” You joke to get him to smile again, but he doesn’t instead he continues to look at your hands.

“Hey.” You whisper and this time your hand drifts softly to Ben’s cheek holding his gaze on you. His eyes widen slightly with your bold touch. “Ben I don’t hate you. I just-“

There’s a loud frantic knocking at the front door that startles you off of Ben and on to the ground beside him.

“Were you expecting anyone?” Ben asks as he stands up and holds out his hand to help you.

“Um- no actually.” You reply taking it.

The frantic knocking starts again.

“Do you think it’s Mike checking to see if we broke up again?” Ben snorts.

“I think it might be his mom hoping you answer the door shirtless. Almost gave that poor woman a heart attack.” You start to walk through the living room.

“I remember you having a similar reaction a few days ago Petals.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Though I will say if you ever decided to walk around the apartment shirtless I’d be perfectly okay with that.”

“I did not. And I’m sure you would.” You roll your eyes. “But I doubt you’d be okay with letting me answer the door like that since you seem to be so jealous. Are all the men from your generation so possessive of women they can’t have? Or is it just you?” You tease, remembering how he reacted yesterday afternoon at IKEA in front of Jake.

You doubted that he was jealous. Ben didn’t have anything to be jealous about. He seemed to be plenty happy with the women he found on tinder and you thought it was ridiculous that he needed to have you too.

You glance back over your shoulder to look at Ben seeing if he’s preparing another insult. He’s gone stick straight, his jaw clenched tightly, eyes dark, frown deepening.

Shit I was just kidding but-

You turn back to look at the door but can’t fight the tight feeling that rose in your chest when he looked at you like that.

Get a grip.

You interrupt the next bout of frantic knocking by opening the door.

A man in a rumpled navy suit stands out side the door, a bright blue quilted baby bag covered in elephants hangs from his left shoulder, a little girl holds on to his left hand, while a little boy screams shrilly and hangs from his right arm.

“Mr. Wilson- hi-“ You stutter, surprised. “Are you alright? Here-“ You reach to take his almost one year old son, Josh, from his arms. Josh continues to wail loudly, shaking his head back and forth.

“Can you please watch the kids?!” He says eyes frantically looking around the apartment behind you and focusing on Ben.

Mr. Wilson was another one of your neighbors, but he and his wife lived on the fifth floor. You’d met the Wilson’s by accident when Martha, the five year old holding on to his left hand wearing a bright pink tutu, decided to ride the elevator down to the lobby all by herself and met you while you were moving all your stuff into your apartment. She’d declared you her best friend as soon as she saw the colorful assortment of flowering plants you were lugging through the lobby of your apartment building in a cardboard box. You’d babysit for the Wilson’s sometimes when they needed a few quiet moments alone and on date nights. Not to mention they had a ton of money and paid almost five times per hour the amount you made in an hour working at “Please Don’t Die.”

Josh wails, his face turning bright red, so loud that Ben flinches behind you. You remember what he said about the supe that blew out his eardrums and can't help but feel a little sorry for him. Your own hearing was only a little better than other people's, but not enough to be as bothered as Ben.

“Hey little guy, its okay.” You coo gently bouncing Josh on your hip to make him stop crying. He sniffles and wraps his arms around your neck, gurgling quietly as he catches his breath.

“Y/n!” Martha shouts putting your right leg in a choke hold.

“Hi Marty.” You smile down at her, adjusting your weight so you don’t drop Josh. You look up at her father. “Mr. Wilson, I'm just not sure that now is the right time."

You think about Ben standing behind you and how horrified he looked when the children descended upon you, as if they were ticking time bombs. You weren't sure if you wanted Ben around kids, or if he had ever been around children before. He wasn't the best influence, not to mention you didn't think that he would be able to filter what he said or what he did around the,

“My wife she just-“ He swallows brown eyes wide. “She just went into labor."

"Oh. OH. Well-"

They had been expecting their third child for a while now, something that had resulted from you taking care of Josh and Martha more and more, and Mr. Wilson's promotion at work. You had learned before Mr. Wilson by accident when you reached down to pick up Josh's binky that was on the ground and your ear brushed against Mrs. Wilson's almost completely flat stomach and you heard the heartbeat.

“Please! I’ll pay you triple the hourly rate and her mother will be here tonight to take over for you.” The man looks close to getting on his knees and begging you. "You won't have them for long-"

Have a heart she’s going in to labor. What else is this poor man going to do? Drag the kids there with him? A part of you whispers. But then they'd be stuck here with Ben all day long. Well, maybe he will leave.

“Okay.” You relent with a sigh.

“Thank you!” Mr. Wilson exclaims shoving the bag into your free arm and then disappears from the doorway without saying goodbye to his children, but you were going to cut him some slack. You understood that when a woman went into labor most men didn't understand what to do with that information.

Shit. You grit your teeth to avoid saying it aloud when taking the bag throws you off balance. With one kid still hanging from your leg and the other one hanging from your neck, it was difficult to maneuver with the bag too.

Ben’s hand appears in your line of vision and he takes the bag, practically with one pinky.

“Show off.” You mutter, but turn your attention to the little girl hanging from your leg.

“I want a flower crown!” Martha crows.

“Okay sweetie just give me one second.” You take another step with her holding on to your leg.

“Now!”

“Martha.” Your voice turns stern as you look down at her and she pouts. "Please let me get Josh situated first."

“Fine.” She pouts and lets go of your leg.

The relief you feel is quickly overshadowed by Ben standing there, holding the diaper bag out from his body like it’ll bite him. Honestly you wished you had your phone ready to take a photo of Ben holding the bag, and then use it as blackmail.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ben asks looking down at the two children confused.

“Shh language!” You snap, eyes widening as you look down at Martha and Josh. Josh has begun to pull your hair from the ponytail at the back of your neck.

"What language?"

You give Ben a death stare wincing when Josh yanks the hair tie out. Martha has let go of your leg and is looking up at Ben with the same fascination that you'd seen her look at Prince Charming from Cinderella.

Guess it works on girls of all ages.

You think about telling her that Ben might be charming from a distance, but he isn't anything like a prince. Honestly, you were more worried that Ben was going to act like a total dick and crush this little girl's heart.

"Hi." She waves her hand at him. "I'm Marty."

Ben stares down at her, as if he's deciding whether or not to say his name aloud. "Ben." His eyes flick back to yours. "What are you doing?"

"We have had the money conversation many times, but I guess you must be getting forgetful in your old age, so we can have it again." You smirk. "Some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon in our mouths or have a trust fund. I don’t have money, therefore, I babysit to get some extra cash sometimes. Hence the children.” You wave your free hand commanding the vines to open up the pantry and grab Josh's high chair out to set up for you. "I told you that I work several jobs."

"What do you mean several? You said that you worked for Butcher and plant guy." Ben huffs, still holding the bag.

"You know his name is Jake. And we live in America if you can't remember. You know? America home of the free, home of the brave single woman trying to make ends meet and pay for her crappy apartment by working fifty million jobs?" You begin to buckle Josh in to the high-chair. "But thanks for showing me how to fix the plumbing under the sink. Definitely going to add that to my job application.

"How many jobs do you have?"

"I mean it’s really what I do when I’m not working for Butcher. I works at the plant shop, I babysit, sometimes I’m a dog walker, oh and there’s this senior living facility a few blocks over that I run errands for when the people living there need me."

"You run errands for senior citizens? What kind of fucking person does that?"

"LANGUAGE! And this freaking person does that thank you. It's not all that bad. Plus I thought you were going to act like them when I first met you, but you are more h-a-n-d-s-y." You spell it out because you don't want the kids to say it. "Oh and I'm also a gardener."

"A gardener?"

"Sometimes." You shrug. "But now that you've met the kids, it's time for you to go."

“What?”

"I don't want him to go." Martha stomps her little foot enclosed in a bright pink sparkly flat.

You ignore her and reach for the table part of the high chair, strapping Josh in. He's wearing an adorable pair of overalls and a teddy bear t-shirt underneath. Despite his early hissy fit in his father's arms, Josh is smiling happily at you, his wild curly black hair sticking up in different directions. “I’m not going to let you be around a kid. You're barely on your best behavior around me."

“What do you think I’m gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Smoke a doobie, roll a doobie, make horrible life choices, drink, curse-“ You cross your arms over your chest and turn to face him, raising an eyebrow.

“You really don’t see me in a positive light.” He smirks at you. It's hard for him to pull off when he's still holding the bright blue bag covered in elephants. It was quilted, probably a knock off Vera Bradley, which only made you wish for your phone even more.

“No I do not.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Fine, just go watch TV in my room. But if you start going through my underwear drawer I swear I will cut off your D-I-C-K.” You spell the word and narrow your eyes, letting them flash bright green to emphasize your point.

Martha is still staring up at Ben, upset at the idea that he's going to go anywhere. "Wait y/n! Please let him stay, he can help me braid Betty's hair!" Betty was Martha's favorite doll, one that you were sure was in the sparkly backpack that hung across her back. Another photo opportunity you did not want to miss.

“I don’t want to go in there.” Ben states.

“Well that’s the first time you’ve ever said that. Usually you’re all for going in my room.” You huff, before turning to look down at Martha. "Alright, you want jasmine like last time? Or do you want some Lavender too?"

"Strawberries!" Martha exclaims.

"Strawberries!" Josh echoes, mashing his meaty fist on the tray not quite comprehending.

"Alright, but you remember. Our little secret right?"

Martha and Josh's parents didn't know you were a supe, they figured that you really liked plants and that Martha's occasional flower crowns came from you manually making them, not from you waving your hand and watching the stems weave together. You weren't sure how the Wilson's would react to finding out that you were a supe. They were more straight laced than you.

Probably also wouldn't like Ben hanging around if they knew who he really was. Actually I'm surprised that Mr. Wilson didn't ask more questions about Ben when he saw him.

Martha nods eagerly.

"Secret?" Ben asks.

"The Wilson's don't know I'm a supe." You murmur so only Ben can hear plucking a strawberry from the plant on your kitchen table. Secretly it was your favorite plant and it was much older than all the others in your apartment, encased in a hand-painted pot.

It was the first plant that you ever grew, sprouted from the chopped strawberries on your high chair tray when you were nine months old. Your parents had potted it inside the house and since then it had never wilted, and it never would. It meant everything to you, weird as that may be, strawberries were like a good luck charm and the plant that sat on your threadbare circular kitchen table was the symbol of your origin story.

"What do they think all the plants are?"

"They just think I like plants." Your eyes are glowing bright green allowing the strawberry in your hands begin to grow a stem and leaves, the stems weaving together to form a circle, sprouting small white flowers that ripen into red fruit, delicately intertwining to create the crown that Martha wants.

She squeals happily when you put it on her head and dances past Ben into the living room on tip-toe.

"You want one too Gramps?" You smirk at Ben.

"Tempting, but no."

"Alright." You look back at Josh, who has begun to chew on his chubby fist. "Are you hungry? I think you're hungry." You turn to look at Ben who is watching Martha do a mock impression of a ballerina with a horrified expression. "Ben can I see the bag?"

His head snaps in your direction. “Why?”

“Because it’s a magical bag with baby food in it.”

He holds it out and you snatch it away.

“Geez. Calm down Petals.” Ben leans against the counter behind you watching you methodically take out the jars. “Now what?”

“Well Sherlock, I’m going to feed the baby.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I know! I know!” Martha screams jumping up with her hand in the air. “Oh please!”

You bite back the urge to laugh. “Yes Marty?” You act as if you're calling on her in class.

“He can help me make friendship bracelets!”

Ben scoffs and rolls his eyes while crossing his arms over his chest. “Like hell I’m gonna-“

*Twenty Minutes Later*

“Please tie another knot for me.”

“No.” Ben grunts

"You're funny." Martha laughs and hands Ben the elastic string so she can start another friendship bracelet.

She was wearing the one that she had spent the last twenty minutes on, a string of bright pink, light pink, hot pink beads, and white pearly stars broken up by the name Marty. Ben had sat there the whole time next to her, pouting while occasionally throwing angry looks at you like it was your fault.

It's not.

You couldn’t understand why he stayed. You figured that he would leave to go on a date or try to escape as soon as Martha mentioned the words "friendship bracelet," but he hadn’t. He sat there at the kitchen table with Martha, whose little legs hung over the front of her chair, her face tight with concentration as she made friendship bracelets.

You’d taken two photos and you were very excited. But you’d been more focused on feeding Josh. He was still eating bits of strawberry and watermelon, but you would give him the occasional bite of teether.

Ben had looked like he was going to throw up when you broke off a piece for yourself.

It wasn't that bad. Kinda like eating a piece of flavored cardboard.

"You really like the watermelon huh?" You ask Josh taking another piece from the plastic container and cutting it up so it's small enough for him to eat.

"Waa waa." Josh mumbles picking up another piece. The red sticky juice was running down his little arms and each time you tried to wipe him off he would scream "No!"

You figured that he had learned that from Martha.

You hold out the circular Tupper-ware of watermelon out to Ben, who takes a piece, still frowning at you the whole time.

He's got to lighten up.

“Benny pick a color for me!” Martha says shuffling her fingers through the organized little boxes of her friendship bracelet kit, the beads rustling loudly against the plastic sides.

"It's Ben."

"Benny!" She whines. "Pick a color."

Ben sighs heavily as if she’d asked him to stab himself. He was probably considering that to get out of this hell. “Green.”

“Light green or dark green?”

“I don’t give a-“

“Ben.” You growl under your breath staring at him.

He sighs again sinking lower in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Dark green.”

When Martha finishes the bracelet it has light green, dark green, and black beads with brilliant pearly white stars and the name Ben spelled out on the strand. She hands it to him. “This is for you. Now we’re best friends forever.” Her face turns serious. “Guard it with your life.”

Ben holds the bracelet between his thumb and index finger, frowning down at it. For a second you hope that he’s not going to throw it away in front of Martha. You noticed that she was trying to impress him the best she could and even you had to admit that her bracelet making skills were unmatched. You were also a little jealous. She didn’t make one for you.

But then Ben does something you didn’t think you’d ever see him do, but puts it on. “Thanks.” He grunts and Martha’s smile is so wide you’re sure it would blind anyone in a ten mile radius.

You’re surprised, so surprised that you drop the watermelon you had been holding on the ground.

What in the actual fuck is happening? He’s being so nice to her.

“Y/n, pick a color!” Martha shouts handing Ben another piece of elastic to tie a knot in.

“Um- light green.” You say, but you can't look away from Ben.

Am I hallucinating?

You were so shocked at his behavior. Yes he was still being a little bit of a dick, but he hadn't done anything that bad in the time that the children had been here, just occasionally curse.

The bracelet that Martha makes you looks a bit like Ben’s, except you have light green, dark green, purple, and black beads with white pearly stars broken up by your name.

"Thank you Marty." You smile at her and roll it on your wrist.

"Y/n?"

"Yes sweetie?"

"I have to go to the bathroom." She stands from the chair and hops from foot to foot. "I don't want to go by myself, the hallway is scary!"

"Oh okay." As soon as you get up Josh begins to wail, face turning bright red as he does, pounding his little fists against the tray of the high chair, sending pieces of strawberry and watermelon flying everywhere.

Oh shit.

"Hey it's okay Joshie." You unclip him from the high chair and pull him into your arms, bouncing him to make him stop crying.

"Y/nnnnnnnnnn!" Martha whines, continuing to hop from foot to foot. "I really have to go."

"Well I- um." Your eyes dart to where Ben is still sitting at the kitchen table, cringing slightly when Josh gives another particularly loud wail.

Am I really about to do this?

"Ben can you take him for just a second."

"What?" Ben's eyes widen.

"Please? I have to take Marty to the bathroom."

"She can't go by herself? Suck it up or whatever?"

"It's dark Benny!" Martha cries, peering around him down the hallway. "I don't want to go by myself."

"But-" Ben begins to say.

"Please Ben." You plead.

He curses under his breath. "Fine." He stands up and takes Josh from your arms, holding him away from his body in the air with both hands like Josh is a live grenade, which only makes him scream louder.

Martha grabs your hand and begins to drag you down the hallway, while Ben grimaces at the wriggling child in his arms. "Try holding him against your chest." You say to him as Martha continues to pull you towards your small bathroom.

I am definetly getting a night light for this hallway. Then again, she doesn't even like it when the lights are on. She said that the yellow glow looked "creepy." But I don't think I should leave Josh alone with Ben. What if he drops him or kills him or- shit why did I do this.

As soon as Martha is finished and has washed her hands you return to the kitchen prepared for the worst, but then you see Ben. His back is to you, but he's gently bouncing Josh in his arms who giggles happily over Ben's shoulder at you.

"See you just need to man up." You hear Ben say. "The ladies don't like a man who cries kid, take it from me."

You smile to yourself. And if you thought that Ben was gorgeous before, Ben standing with a baby making a baby smile, makes something primal at the back of your mind begin to stir and unfortunately makes every plant in your general vicinity burst into bloom. The smell of gardenia, hibiscus, honeysuckle, and lavender hitting you in a strong wave as they do. You weren't sure what instinct it was, all you knew was that the image of Ben and the baby would be very difficult to wipe from your mind.

"Did you miss me Benny?" Martha shouts coming up behind him, her strawberry crown still perched over her dark braids.

"Um." Ben turns around to look at where you're standing at the edge of the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish, like he didn't want you to catch him with a kid.

That's understandable. Hughie told me how he reacted to seeing a diaper commercial. The guy just doesn't seem to be the most gentle or really loving. And yet look at how he is with Josh.

"Of course he did Marty." You smile rubbing her back. "Right?"

"Sure." Ben sighs, but then he lifts his gaze back up to you. "You shouldn't call her that." Ben grunts.

"Why not?"

"You keep calling her a man's name and everyone is gonna think she's a boy."

You kick Ben hard in the shin.

"Ow. What the fu-" Ben snaps, eyes blazing.

"Marty, why don’t you pick out a movie you want to watch, anything you want." You smile sweetly at her, ignoring Ben's angry glare.

"Anything I want?" She exclaims, eyes bright.

"Anything you want."

She squeals happily and runs to the couch, disrupting Bean who had been watching with contempt from the cushions that line the back. He didn't like the kids as much as Ben did. Bean leaps off the couch and vanishes down the hallway before Martha can catch him.

"I call her that because she asked me to Ben. Don’t say things like that to a five-year old. In fact don't stuff like that at all. It's 2024 not 1920."

"What does that mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." You frown at him.

"Fine." Ben huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Why are you still here? I thought that you were going to go on a date or whatever it is you do when you're not being forced to work for Butcher?" You say taking Josh from Ben, who fights you as you rub a wipe against his sticky cheeks.

"I didn't want you to be outnumbered Petals." Ben smirks.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Admit it, you really wanted a friendship bracelet."

Ben leans closer to whisper in your ear. "As soon as she leaves, this is going in the trash."

But for some reason you don’t believe him, but at the same time you didn't care, because you had photo evidence on your phone of Soldier Boy making friendship bracelets.

The opening song of Frozen begins to play from the tv behind you and you smile mischievously at Ben.

Now he's in for it.

"You're gonna wish you left Gramps." You snort.

"What do you mean-" Ben starts to say.

And then Martha begins to sing.

After a stunning and masterful performance of the Frozen movie done by Martha that included singing, dancing, and screaming the dialogue back at the tv, followed by Frozen 2, both Josh and Martha have fallen asleep just as the Aristocats began to play, leaving you and Ben to sit in the blessed silence of your apartment with the movie playing quietly in the background.

You were all sitting on the couch, Josh was sleeping on top of you, his little head buried in your left shoulder, while Martha curled up beside you, covered in one of your crochet blankets. Ben was sitting on the other side of Martha, leaning back and avoiding any contact with her feet that occasionally twitched while she slept, scrolling on his phone.

As much as Ben had hated the performance, you think that he might have actually liked Frozen. He'd noted that Elsa was hot, which Martha didn't quite understand and stated "No silly she's cold."

But then Ben followed up the observation by saying "You know, I knew this supe that looked exactly like her, who did this thing with her tong-" and you'd clamped your hand over his mouth and hissed "the kids are too young for that. Frankly I am too." Ben had only smirked at you and for the first time since you'd seen him do that, you smiled.

You didn't think that Ben had been paying attention, given that he had been scrolling on his phone through the entire movie, but he was. Because when Hans betrayed Anna Ben muttered "what a dick" under his breath.

Butcher had called during Frozen 2 and Ben had taken it in the hallway, filling you in quietly when he got back. Tomorrow Butcher wanted the two of you to infiltrate the party and see if the supe showed up to steal any of the cars.

It sounded like a solid plan, but it also meant that you were going to be on a mission alone with Ben, wearing God knows what. The last time Frenchie had stolen a dress for you wear on a mission, you'd practically had a heart attack when you first put it on and then made Annie go instead. You hoped that this time Frenchie got you something a little more, you. But you doubted it.

Plus the whole idea is to not be you genius.

“You’re really good with them.” Ben murmurs from his seat on the other side of the couch interrupting your chain of thought.

“You sound surprised.” You whisper back gently rubbing Josh's back with your hand. “And here I thought you were going to make a misogynistic comment about me having to be good with kids because I’m a woman.”

“I thought about it.” He shrugs shooting you an easy grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Wouldn’t have expected anything less Gramps.”

You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying Ben try to act normal around the children. You liked watching him be all uncomfortable and awkward, especially because he prided himself on being a "big strong man." It was the same look he got in his eyes whenever Mike's mother cornered him.

“So have you been around kids before?” He asks.

“No. I never had any younger siblings, just my older brother. Were you ever around kids?”

You barely knew anything about Ben or his life before becoming Soldier Boy, just all the propaganda that Vought fabricated about his early life. He had called you guarded but he definitely seemed to keep everything closer to his chest. Sometimes you found yourself wishing that he would tell you more. You wanted to know more about him, but another part of you told you that it was a bad idea. You were getting too close to Ben, developing feelings for him, and you knew that it wouldn’t end well.

“Not people I knew. Vought used to send me on tours around America, talking to assemblies at schools.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Do you-“ Ben pauses considering. “Like kids?”

“I mean I like that I get paid to watch them but-“ You look down at the children quietly sleeping between the two of you. “I like these two. I think it kinda depends on the kid.”

He nods and turns his head back towards the tv. Thomas O'Malley has started his song, sauntering along to the tune.

Is it wrong that I think Ben has Thomas O'Malley vibes? Or Kovu from Lion King 2 vibes?

You thought about texting Annie that exact question, but you didn't want to tell her how you spent your day babysitting with Ben. You knew that it would only bring on another onslaught of photoshopped baby pictures and potential baby names.

“Do you want kids?”

“Huh?” You glance over at Ben who is watching you curiously. He was doing that thing again where he acted completely different than how he acted around the team, had been doing it all day long.

“Um-“ You contemplate. “I’m not sure. I’m kinda young or well in my head I am. I think I’d want to wait a little bit.”

“But you do?” He presses.

Why does he want to know that so badly?

“I kinda see myself as a mom.”

Ben’s eyes are studying you. “I think you’d be a good mom.”

The compliment makes you inhale in surprise. Ben had been acting weird all day long, being nice to Martha, wearing the bracelet she made him, sitting with her to watch a movie and listening to her recount the lore behind it. He was being uncharacteristically patient and kind. For another moment you see the possibility of Ben being more than just an angry, horny, jerk, and you try hard not to give in.

“Do you want kids?” You whisper back.

Ben’s expression darkens and he turns back towards the tv, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t say anything for a good two minutes, the silence awkwardly growing between the two of you. “I did.”

“With Countess right?”

He looks at you surprised.

“Hughie told me.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry Ben.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not the bi-“ He stops and looks down at the kids who are still sleeping silently. “You’re not her, Petals. You don’t have to be.”

“I know that, but still. What she did was shitty.” You whisper the curse word. “You didn’t deserve that. Any of it.”

It was the first time you’d said that to Ben. The first time the two of you would have a conversation about his life before you met him, the life that he seemed to want to forget. You couldn't blame him for that. In fact, the two of you had barely talked before these past few days other than the occasional tease or Ben’s attempt to get you into bed with him. And it was actually kind of nice, learning more about him.

Josh gurgles quietly and you adjust him in your arms, gently rocking him for a moment. Martha stirs but then leans further against your right arm cuddling up against it.

Ben watches you for a minute with the same expression he has when he seems to be unable to understand you and then the mask slips for just a moment, enough for you to see something genuine in his eyes. "Thank you." He murmurs.

"You’re welcome." You reply with a small smile as you turn back to watch the movie, aware of Ben's gaze on you. "Then again I should be thanking you. I couldn't have made it through today without that coffee."

Ben chuckles and leans back against the couch cushions. "You're welcome Petals."

Mr. Wilson's mother in-law shows up to take the kids just as the movie finishes. Ben and you stand there for a moment in the aftermath taking a breath and when you smile at him, Ben actually smiles back.

But before you can ask Ben if he wants to order a pizza or something, he states that he has a date and not to wait up for him as he shrugs into his leather jacket.

And when he goes you try not to notice how quiet the apartment is and how empty it seems without him in it.

A/N: Alright the angst will begin to come NEXT chapter, probably, I promise... I just couldn't get this silly little idea out of my head and I thought why not?

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist or if I missed you on the taglist please let me know :)

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic

244 notes · View notes

parkerslatte · 7 months

Text

Fighter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: blood. injury. near death experience.

Summary: Azriel was severely injured on a mission and his chance of survival is low and his mate and wife refuses to leave his bedside.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Azriel was laid motionless in his bed. The only indication of life was the shallow rise and fall of his chest that seemed to get slower and slower day by day. On the left side of his bed, Rhys and Cassian sat looking helplessly at their brother before them. There wasn’t anything they could do for him no matter how much they wanted to.

Sitting on the right side of Azriel’s bed was Y/N. Her hand clutched his still and cold one between hers tightly. There were dried tears under her eyes as she looked at her mate and husband before her. The blanket covering his body did little to show the large scar staring from his hip and ending at his shoulder. It was an angry red but Madja had calmed everyone that the redness would go down with time.

“If only I didn’t send him on that stupid mission,” Rhys mumbled. “Then he wouldn’t be here.”

No one responded. The only sound heard was the rain hitting the window outside.

Y/N brushed Azriel’s hair away from his forehead. After the mission it had been caked with blood and grime and now after many washes it was soft to the touch. She only wished she could listen to his small content sighs as her fingernails scratched his scalp.

“Don’t blame yourself, Rhys,” Y/N replied after a while of silence. “He would have gone on that mission regardless.”

“But I could have gone with him,” Cassian said. “I could have protected him.”

“And possibly gotten yourself hurt as well,” Y/N responded, finally lifting her gaze to meet Cassian and Rhys. “Then we would be in a position where both of you could have been severely wounded.” Y/N’s gaze returned to Azriel. “I don’t wish for Nesta to feel the way I am right now.”

“You shouldn’t be feeling like this at all, Y/N,” Rhys said. “You two should be in your own house safe and sound.”

“Well that is an impossibility right now, Rhys.” Y/N’s tone was clipped and short. “I’m sorry to ask you this but could I be alone with him?”

Rhys and Cassian immediately got to their feet. “Of course,” Cassian responded.

“If you want or need anything Y/N, make sure to ask,” Rhys said as he placed his hand upon Y/N’s shoulder.

“I’ll be okay.” It was all Y/N said. It was all she could say.

When Rhys and Cassian left she barely heard them as she let fresh tears fall. “Az, you need to come back to me, baby.” Y/N shuffled her chair closer to the bed, her knees knocking painfully against it but she didn’t care. “I need you to wake up. I need you to open your eyes.”

There was no movement from Azriel and it only made Y/N’s tears fall in a more rapid succession.

“Madja healed you the best she could but she made no promises that you would wake up. But I need you to, my love. Please, just give me a sign that you are in there, please, just anything,” Y/N’s voice was full of desperation and she spoke to her husband. Y/N didn’t even know that something could be as painful as this.

Y/N watched Azriel for any sign of him listening to her. But there was nothing. No flicker of his eye under his eyelids. No stutter in his breathing. No twitch of his finger. There was absolutely nothing.

Y/N screamed.

***

The sun was high in the sky and Y/N stepped through the gate to her and Azriel’s cottage. It was on the edge of Velaris, far from the centre of the city. In her small wicker basket, Y/N had two fresh bouquets of flowers, courtesy of Elain. The blistering heat made Y/N wipe the sweat from her brow as she approached her front door, fishing the keys out of the basket.

As she went to place the key in the hole, she found that the door was open the smallest amount and Y/N’s guard immediately went up. As her grip tightened on the basket, she pushed the front door open. Their living room was large but cosy, filled with many blankets and pillows of all different textures. The windchimes hanging just beside the front door sounded out as a small breeze blew bast.

“Hello?” Y/N called out, reaching for the dagger concealed behind a painting Feyre gifted her.

However, Y/N immediately dropped the dagger and basket as her mate walked around the corner. A smile immediately spread across Y/N’s face as she launched herself at him.

“Hi, baby,” Azriel’s low voice whispered in her ear as she wrapped her arms around him. His arms making their way around her, his hand cradling her head.

“You weren’t meant to be back yet,” Y/N said.

“I finished what I needed to do early,” Azriel mumbled into her shoulder. “The first thing I did was come here, even Rhys doesn’t know I’m back.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter, afraid that if she let him go, he would disappear. It had been two months since Rhys sent Azriel on a mission and it had been two months since Y/N had spoken to Azriel. The only contact she had with him was the wave of love he sent through the bond each night, but that was never enough. Y/N craved to hold him within her arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N replied. “I would have stayed here to wait for you.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Azriel said.

“Well it has been the best surprise ever,” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug to capture Azriel’s lips with her own.

Azriel dropped his arms to her waist, wrapping them around her tightly. Y/N pulled away and rested her forehead on his. “I missed you so much,” she said looking into his eyes. The colour ingrained into her brain.

“Well you’ll be happy to know that I won’t be going on any missions for a while,” Azriel said.

“Why? Are you okay? Did Rhys tell you to take some time off?” Y/N asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought of the worst possible reasons.

Azriel smiled brightly. The smile only Y/N got to see. “I’m fine, Rhys doesn’t know that I am taking time off yet.”

“Then why are you? Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Y/N said, pecking his lips.

The smile on Azriel’s face only seemed to light up his face further. “Well since you and I are going to be planning a wedding, I will have no time for my duties.”

“Wedding?” Y/N asked. “What wedding?”

Azriel reached behind him. “Ours.” He revealed the most beautiful ring Y/N had ever seen. It was simple but it was perfect.

Y/N stumbled back. “Az, you can’t be serious?”

“I’m completely serious,” Azriel said. “Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“But we have already been mated for years and you have never mentioned anything about getting married,” Y/N said.

“I saw how you looked when Elain and Lucien got married,” Azriel said. “And I’ll be honest that I bought this ring nearly a year ago, long before the wedding.”

“You want to marry me?” Y/N said, tears springing to her eyes.

“I want nothing more in my life,” Azriel replied, taking her hand in his. “It would be an honour to call you my wife.”

A single tear fell down Y/N’s cheek but she smiled wide. “It would be an honour to call you my husband.”

“So is that a yes?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, Azriel. I will marry you.”

***

Y/N awoke with a smile on her face as she reached to the other side of the bed, searching for her husband’s warmth. Only when she opened her eyes did she realise what her reality was. Azriel was still laying in the bed and his breathing seemed even shallower than it had been before she fell asleep.

Her chair scraped the floor as she leaned closer to caress his face. His dark eyelashes rested delicately on his cheeks, Y/N had always been jealous of them. There was no small flutter of them at all. All Y/N wanted him to do was open his eyes. His beautiful eyes.

“Please,” Y/N whispered, her lips brushing his cheek. “Please wake up.”

“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice came from the doorway. Y/N hadn’t heard her open it. “I brought you some food.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, her voice void of emotion.

Feyre sighed and made her way further into the room. “You need to eat something, it’s been days.”

“I’m not hungry,” Y/N said, settling back in her seat but kept Azriel’s hand firmly clasped between hers.

“At least have a drink of water,” Feyre said, offering a glass to Y/N.

Y/N tore her gaze away from Azriel and looked at the glass Feyre was offering. She didn’t want to take it but her mouth was dry. With great reluctance, Y/N released one of her hands from Azriel’s and took the class of cool water.

“Have you been here all night?” Feyre asked.

“I haven’t left since he was brought in here,” Y/N answered. “I can’t leave.”

“I know that you don’t want to leave him, Y/N, but you need to take care of yourself too,” Feyre said gently. “Why don’t you get dressed in some clean clothes? I will stay here with Azriel and if he moves, I will immediately come and alert you.”

Y/N looked at her mate and husband laying on the bed. “I can’t leave because I know that if I do, there is the possibility that he stops breathing.” Tears glistened in Y/N’s eyes as she looked up at Feyre. “And I will regret for the rest of my life that I was not there with him while he passed.”

Feyre placed her hand on top of Y/N’s and gave it a small reassuring squeeze. “I have not known Azriel as long as you, Y/N. But what I do know about him is that he is a fighter. And above all, he will always fight for you, he will always fight to come back to you.”

Y/N sighed. “I know. And I will always fight for him. But this time it is different, Feyre. I have seen Az injured beyond what I thought could be possible. I have seen wounds like you would ever believe, but he powered through it. You never saw the look on his face when he appeared on the doorstep. He was scared, Feyre. I had never seen that look on his face before.”

Y/N took a shaky breath and stood from her chair and perched on the edge of Azriel’s bed. Her hand gently cupped his cheek.

“I had never seen such fear in his eyes. When he collapsed in my arms he whispered one thing in my ear, ‘I will always love you both’. He did not believe that he would survive. He risked everything so he could see me one last time.” Y/N said.

“‘I will always love you both’? What did he mean by that?” Feyre asked.

“I’m pregnant, Feyre,” Y/N said and allowed the enchantment that concealed her scent to fall. “We were going to tell everyone after he was home and we had a few days just to ourselves. But it seems like we will never get the chance. I can feel the bond fading every single minute. It feels like I am clutching at air trying to hold onto it.”

“He will wake up, Y/N,” Feyre said, determination lacing her tone. “Even if I have to wake him up myself, I will make sure he comes back to you. I will make sure he will meet his child.”

Tears fell freely down Y/N’s cheeks. “I really need him to come back, Feyre. I can’t do any of this without him.”

“He will wake up, Y/N. Az would never leave you alone. In the years I have known you both, I have never seen two people so in love with one another. Whenever you walk into the room, he lights up. Whenever your name is mentioned he listens in. Whenever you smile at him, his shadows always seem happier. He thinks no one notices but we all do.”

“I love him so much, Feyre,” Y/N sobbed. “I need him so badly.”

Feyre shuffled closer and hugged Y/N. “He will come back. You will get to hold him in your arms again. He will meet his child and the two of you will live happily. There is no possible way on this planet where Azriel would let you live in a world where he isn’t in it.”

Y/N nodded into Feyre’s shoulder. “You make him sound like a stalker.”

Feyre let out a quiet laugh as she pulled away and wiped the tears from Y/N’s face. “Now let’s get you some proper food. Because you know that Azriel will kill you if he finds out that you are not taking care of yourself.”

Y/N smiled. It is small and barely there but it was a smile. “Yeah, he would.”

“I need to make Nyx his lunch so what do you say about sandwiches?” feyre asked.

“Sandwiches are fine with me,” Y/N answered.

As Y/N began to pull her hand away from Azriel’s, she felt his fingertips curl around hers. He head snapped to where they were connected. A small gasp left Y/N’s lips as she clutched his hand a little tighter. In return she was greeted by his grip twitching within hers.

“He moved,” Y/N said. “He moved Feyre.”

A soft smile appeared on Feyre’s face. “He knows you’re here,” Feyre said. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

As soon as Feyre was out of the room, Y/N sat back down by Azriel’s side. “Hey, baby. I miss you and love you.” Another gentle squeeze of Y/N’s hand. She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I can’t wait until you wake up. It may be many months away, but our child is desperate to meet you. They’re desperate to hear your voice again. And so am I. I can’t wait to listen to you tell me about your day, about how much you love our small family. I can wait to hear a stupid joke you heard that you will only ever tell me. I just can’t wait until you wake up.”

Azriel didn’t squeeze Y/N’s hand again but deep down Y/N knew that he heard it and knew that she was there. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss against his knuckles before placing it down by his side once again. “I love you and I will see you later.”

***

It had been three days since Azriel had first squeezed Y/N’s hand and he had been making more movement since. His chest rose and fell in a healthier succession and there was the occasional twitch of his fingers, always in the direction of Y/N. Azriel was always reaching out in the direction of his mate and wife.

Y/N still constantly remained by Azriel’s side, but occasionally took breaks to look after herself and the baby growing within her. Y/N had taken the time to inform the rest of the Inner Circle about her pregnancy and the news was greeted with congratulations but Y/N could tell they were holding back. The one other person who should have been celebrating with them could not be there.

“I’m just saying that if it's a boy, you should name him after me,” Cassian said.

Y/N had found herself once again in the company of Rhys and Cassian. Both of the males wanted to sit beside their brother in hopes he would wake up. Unlike the first time the three had sat together, the atmosphere seemed to be a little lighter.

“Az is certain that it's a girl,” Y/N responded. “He wants to name them after his mother.”

Y/N looked down at Azriel with a small smile on her face. She could still picture his excitement when she told him that she was pregnant. Almost immediately he wanted to go out and start buying things for their child.

“That’s sweet, but Cass can still be a girl’s name,” Cassian remarked, a teasing grin on his face.

Y/N shook her head, a small amused smile creeping onto her face.

Cassian groaned. “Rhys, when you and Feyre have another kid, what about the name–”

“I’m not naming our second child after you either,” Rhys replied. “Maybe go and pester Elain and Lucien next.”

Cassian laughed. “I still think it's a great name. You are missing out.”

“I’m not naming my child after you, Cassian,” A new voice entered the room. It was quiet and groggy.

Y/N’s gaze immediately shot down to the bed and noticed that Azriel’s eyes were opening and the grip he had on her hand tightened.

Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes. “Az…”

Azriel groaned as he shifted his head to look at Y/N. As soon as his eyes met hers, Y/N felt the bond come to life and that was when she broke down. So many emotions filled Y/N within seconds and she threw herself down on the bed, her head resting on Azriel’s chest.

“My love, I thought you were gone,” Y/N wailed.

Azriel slowly moved one of his hands to caress the back of her head. “I would never leave you. Either of you.” His voice was quiet and hoarse, yet Y/N could hear the love within it.

Y/N lifted her head to look at Azriel and noticed both Rhys and Cassian slowly making their way out of the room. She noticed the tears shining in their eyes.

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N said.

Azriel slowly pushed himself up on the bed, wincing in pain as he did so.

“No, no,” Y/N said, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve done enough resting,” Azriel said, settling back against the headboard. “All I want to do is look at my wife and hold her in my arms.”

Azriel gently tugged Y/N forward until her forehead rested on his. “I heard everything you said to me.” He revealed. “I tried to move, I tried everything but I couldn’t. I had no way to reach you. I never thought I’d ever see you again. I never thought I would meet our child.”

A single tear fell down Azriel’s face and Y/N hastily wiped it away.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, gently cupping his cheeks. “All that matters is that you are here and you are okay. We don’t need to think about that anymore because you are awake and here.”

“I love you,” Azriel whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied. “Just promise me that you are not going on any missions for a while.”

“I won’t be,” Azriel said. “I will not be leaving this court at all until our child is born and probably long after. I don’t want to be put in this position again. I don’t want you to ever nearly lose me again. I want to see our child grow up. I want to be by your side for eternity. No mission or job could ever come before my family.”

Y/N gently pecked his lips. “I am so glad you are here, my love.”

“I will always fight to get back to you, Y/N,” Azriel said, nothing but love in his tone. “I love you too much to ever let you go.”

Y/N didn’t respond verbally, instead she gently shuffled forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder. Azriel’s arms immediately latched around her, keeping her pressed against his body. Even when Y/N tried to pull away slightly to not hurt him, Azriel refused to let her. Y/N just relaxed into him.

“Madja will need to come and check on you at some point,” Y/N mumbled.

“Not right now,” Azriel said. “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Rhys and Cass will want to see you too,” Y/N said.

“They can wait,” Azriel said. “And all the others can wait. Just for tonight I want to spend my time with my family. Just you and our child.”

Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck. “Then let’s just lay here all day then. I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”

“I cannot believe how lucky I am that I have you in my life, Y/N,” Azriel said, the stubble on his face scratching her bare shoulder from where her robe had fallen.

“I am the lucky one, Az,” Y/N said. “I am lucky enough to have someone who would fight so hard to come back to me.” Y/N leaned back from the hug and placed his hand on her stomach. “To us.”

“I love you,” Azriel said, wrapping his arms back around Y/N’s body. “I love you both.”

Y/N only hugged him tighter and that was the way the small family remained, completely wrapped up in their own little world.

#azriel angst #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fluff

946 notes · View notes

heli-writes · 4 months

Text

Marriage of Convenience, part 10: settling.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The safe house is hidden behind multiple layers of wisteria trees. When Yoriichi told her the demon slayers would provide a safe house for them, (y/n) assumed it would be exactly that, a house. She did not expect to find a mansion upon arrival. (Y/n) gapes at the 'house' with an open mouth.

(Y/s/n) pulls her kimono since Yoriichi already started walking ahead. (Y/n) takes the boy's hand and quickly hurries after her husband. An elderly woman and a young girl greet the small family of three at the entrance. They bow deeply in front of Yoriichi. "Yoriichi-sama. It's a pleasure to have you as our guest.", the elderly woman says before introducing herself and her granddaughter as Rai and Okimi Ubuyashiki.

"We've already prepared your living quarters for you and your family.", Mrs. Ubuyashiki says as she leads the three of them through the house.

"We've chosen a place in the East Wing for you. Most rooms there are empty most of the time and only used for injured slayers from time to time. This way you have some more privacy.", Mrs Ubuyashiki explains.

She slides a door open and leads the three of them inside. It's a spacious room. On one side three futons were laid next to each other. On the other side, there is a small table and some cushions. The walls are decorated with some calligraphy paintings and there are some fresh flowers in a vase on the table.

"I hope you find this sufficient.", Mrs. Ubuyashiki tells them.

"It's more than sufficient, it is lovely.", (y/n) tells her. "We're very grateful for your hospitality.", she adds and the three of them bow their heads to Mrs. Ubuyashiki. The woman nods contently and says: "I'll leave you to get settled. Okimi comes back in a while for dinner". The old woman disappears behind the sliding door and (y/s/n) immediately throws himself on one of the futons with a squeak.

"Don't do that. It's rude.", (y/n) tells him and the boy looks up to her with a guilty look on his face as he wants to say sorry. Yoriichi puts down their luggage and puts the bags in the opposite corner of the futons.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door and Okimi brings in a tray with steaming tea and some biscuits. She doesn't say much, just puts down the tray and bows politely. She gives (y/s/n) a small smile when she slides the door closed.

Yoriichi and (y/n) take a seat at the table and Yoriichi pours some tea for the both of them. Meanwhile, (y/s/n) found the door to the porch and started examining the surroundings of their room.

"Don't wander off too far," (y/n) warns him, "and don't bother any of our hosts". She looks after him in concern.

"Don't worry about the boy", Yoriichi comforts her, "the people around here are nice and like children". (Y/n) rubs her temple.

"They might not be so nice if he makes trouble.", she tells him and picks up her tea cup.

"(Y/s/n) is not the type of child to create trouble around him.", Yoriichi says softly. (Y/n) takes a sip of the tea. It's way too hot. She wonders if Okimi made it herself, which she finds rather endearing.

"I know, he's a good and quiet child. But with him not speaking, most people treat him differently and he quickly... Actually, I don't know how to describe it. People are often rude to him because his muteness unsettles them. It's like they push him away because he's different.", she tries to explain.

Yoriichi nods understandingly. He knows exactly what (y/n) means. He experienced it in his own childhood. "Are you worried about him not speaking?", he suddenly asks her. (Y/n) looks into her steaming teacup.

"Of course, it worries me he doesn't speak. I mean, clearly, he isn't deaf or mentally disabled. I'm scared it's something medical that eventually affects more than just his voice. I'm even more scared that it's the trauma he experienced when his parents died. ", she says furrowing her brows.

"Is that possible? That children don't speak because of trauma?", Yoriichi asks.

(Y/n) hesitates, then carefully says: "I think. So far I've seen only traumatised adults. Sometimes they temporarily don't speak due to shock. Usually, when the shock wears off, they slowly start speaking again and other trauma symptoms become prevalent." Yoriichi bobs his head in thought.

"Do you want him to speak?", he asks her. (Y/n) shrugs.

"I mean it would make communicating with him simpler. He could tell us exactly what he wants and thinks. But it's not like I don't understand him. It's the others that don't understand him.", she tells him.

"You're his mother, you know him best. It's sometimes hard to understand other people even though they speak if you don't know them well enough.", Yoriichi replies. (Y/n) warms her hand on her teacup.

"Exactly. What if something happens to me? Or you? Then nobody will really understand him. What then?", she asks and the sound of desperation lies thick underneath her voice. Yoriichi puts a hand on her shoulder and rubs it carefully.

"Don't think like that. We're safe here. Nothing will happen.", he says. Suddenly he has a bad consciousness for bringing up (y/s/n)'s muteness. He was only interested in her opinion. He didn't know such deep feelings were connected to it. (Y/n) wipes her eyes.

"That's now. But what about in 20 or 30 years? I won't be around forever to be his outside voice for him.", she sniffs. Yoriichi shifts closer to her and wraps an arm around her. (Y/n) thankfully accepts his embrace.

"He'll find his outside voice.", he reassures her.

"How can you be so sure about that?", (y/n) asks back.

"Because I found mine.", he replies softly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Life at the safe house is slow. (Y/n) tries to help with chores and tasks as well as she can but Mrs. Ubuyashiki is being a good host and does not let (y/n) work too much. Being used to work, y/n finds her days quite empty. She uses the time to teach (y/s/n) reading and writing. But soon the boy gets bored by the endless repetitions of the same letters. He much rather play with Okimi. The two children get along well. Okimi doesn't seem to care much about (y/s/n)'s muteness and (y/n) likes to watch them fondly while they play in the garden.

Yoriichi isn't much around. It seems as if demon activity did not only rise around their little cottage but all over the place. Most nights he's away slaying demons and (y/n) is left alone in the dark. She finds herself wishing that Yoriichi was around more often. Actually, she has to admit that she misses him. Some nights she wishes she could hear him breathe in the darkness. During particularly lonely nights, she wished she could sneak into his futon and rest her head against his chest so that she could feel his warmth and soft skin under her hands.

She knows it's a bit silly. Sure, things have shifted between them. She'll probably won't forget how his soft lips grazed hers. Still, Yoriichi never mentioned that night since it happened. She's not sure if it's due to his stoic nature or because he feels uncomfortable to talk about it. Or maybe he regrets it, a nasty voice in her head keeps saying. That alone is another silly thought. Everyone who knows Yoriichi knows that he doesn't act rashly or in the spur of the moment. Yoriichi always acts with intent, calm and determined. There's no doubt Yoriichi knew exactly what he was doing when he told her these things and kissed her.

(Y/n) lets out a deep sigh as she finishes folding the laundry. (Y/s/n) looks over to his mother curiously. (Y/n) waves him towards her and makes him put away the fresh laundry. The sun has just set and Yoriichi left some time ago. After dinner, most residents retired to their own rooms. (Y/n) just finished tidying up a bit as (y/s/n) played with some toys in the other part of the room. After the boy puts away the laundry, (y/n) tucks him into his futon and bids him good night before laying to rest as well. She lays awake in the dark for some time before finally drifting off to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Loud voices and yelling disturb her slumber. People are running up and down the hallway. (Y/n) sitting straight upward within seconds. She almost headbutts (y/s/n) when she shoots up. The boy was sitting by her side clutching her bed sheet in his hands. He must've gotten up before (y/n) and tried to alert her. If (y/n) wasn't so distracted by the commotion outside, she'd worry over the panic-stricken eyes of her son.

Within seconds, (y/n) quickly pulled a kimono over her shoulders, letting it hang loosely over her sleepwear. On her bare feet, she grabs her son's arm and pulls him towards the door. For a moment, she hesitates. There are no sounds of fighting, so it must be safe to put her head out of the door.

When (y/n) peers through the door, two kakushi run past it and (y/n) catches a glimpse of an injured demon slayer on a stretcher. Okimi rushes after them, but (y/n) is quick to get a hold of the girl.

„What's going on here?“, she presses the girl for answers.

„A big demon attack“, Okimi pants, „Many slayers got injured.“

„I've got a medical education. Tell me where to go.“, (y/n) immediately says and Okimi points her towards the hall at the end of the floor where they are piling up the injured in a makeshift hospital ward. When Okimi wants to run off in the same direction, (y/n) stops her again.

„I need you to look after (y/s/n). Please stay in our room with him.“, she tells Okimi sternly. The girl almost immediately protests, but (y/n) quickly adds: „You're a bit older than him. I trust you are taking this responsibility seriously.“

On her way to the hall, (y/n) thinks of the slayer she saw earlier. It's not a sight for children. She understands that Okimi wants to help but it is better to let the adults handle this. Sights like this will haunt you in your nightmares. (Y/n) knows what she's talking about.

At the makeshift hospital ward, (y/n) gets in touch with the leading healer. It doesn't take long until she's in a white gown treating patients. However, she refrains from stitching wounds or other surgical tasks. She's not a doctor and knows what lies outside of her competence. Instead, she's quick to clean wounds with antiseptic, applying salves and handing out anti-inflammatory medicines.

That is until the first poison victims start to come in. Convulsing victims with purple skin are brought in and laid upon empty futons. She can see the desperation on the other healers's and nurses's faces. A poison can only be treated with a precise antitoxin. If the poison is a neurotoxin, things look bad. The neurosystem can shut down within minutes. (Y/n) hands her tasks over to a younger nurse and rushes towards the poison victims. She takes quick notes on the symptoms they are experiencing and narrows down to what kind of poison they are dealing with. While taking in the sight, she makes her way to the head healer.

„Where do you make your medicine around here? And how well are you stocked?“, (y/n) asks quickly. The head healer looks are her irritatedly.

„We don't have time to make more medicine. Can't you see what we're dealing with here?“, the woman exclaims.

„I know exactly what we are dealing with here and if you want to give these men a fighting chance, you better put me to work. There are four different antidotes we can try out with a poison like this, but they won't do anything if the men are already dead.“, (y/n) tells her harshly.

Usually, she would've been a bit friendlier but the pressure is getting to her. The woman's eyes widen and she starts barking orders around. Within minutes y/n is standing in a pharmacist's workshop with two kakushis subordinated to her. They get to work immediately and (y/n) keeps shouting orders at the kakushi while working on two different things at the same time. (Y/n)'s brain and hands are performing at absolute excellence tonight. It's the responsibilities of these men's lives that keep her focused and her mind from wandering off to Yoriichi who is still fighting somewhere in the dark of night.

By the end of the night, the small team manages to produce a variety of antitoxins. Unfortunately, by then almost half of the men who got poisoned had already passed. The remaining men however could be stabilized thanks to (y/n)'s antidotes. While the kakushis and nurses in the room sigh in relief when one of (y/n)'s productions starts to take effect, it doesn't feel like a win to (y/n). If she would've been able to take her supplies with her, this could've been avoided. As a poison brewer, one always keeps the most necessary supplies for antitoxins around.

(Y/n) is utterly exhausted when the sun finally shows its first rays beyond the horizon. She slumps against a door frame sitting outside on the porch. The soft sunlight tickles her skin but she feels too numb to enjoy it. She knew being a demon slayer was dangerous – of course, she saw what demons were capable of firsthand. Still, seeing all these injuries and seeing so many people pass left an impact on her.

(Y/n) sighs and massage her own neck. She's exhausted and drained – both physically and emotionally. (Y/s/n) is probably already waiting for her. She's sure he didn't fall asleep tonight. (Y/n) stretches her face towards the rising sun. The soft sunrays prick her skin.

She wonders where Yoriichi is at the moment. Most likely, he's still on the battlefield. Fighting these monsters until they flee the very sun that caresses her skin so softly. (Y/n) crunches her eyebrows. Hopefully, he isn't injured. Since he wasn't brought here tonight he's probably fine. Well, at least he doesn't have any life threatening injuries.

(Y/n) stays in the sun for a few more moments before getting up. Her limbs feel heavy and stiff. She really needs some sleep. As she drags herself back to their room, she listens intently. The buzz of the night has slowed down. There are still some healers taking care of patients, but many others try to get some rest. Those slayers who didn't make it through the night were put down outside the main house. Those who did survive most likely are sleeping in a drugged slumber right now.

When (y/n) arrives at their room, she carefully slides the door open in hopes that the two kids are sound asleep inside. That turns out to be partly true. Okimi lies spread out on (y/s/n)'s futon with closed eyes. She looks as if she tossed and turned until sleep took her. (Y/s/n) lays next to her burying his face into the pig plushie Yoriichi won for him. The moment the door slides open, (y/s/n) raises his head, looking expectantly at the entrance of the room.

After (y/n) entered the room and slid the door shut, the boy gets up and finds his way to her. He clings to her leg. (Y/n) pats his head and crunches down to him.

„You can't sleep, (y/s/n)?“, she asks the boy while softly touching his cheek. (Y/s/n) finds his way into his mother's arms. (Y/n) strokes over his back and leads him back to the futon. Quickly, she pulls out her own futon and changes clothes. She slides under the blanket and lets her son slide into the futon with her.

(Y/n) doesn't bother to tell (y/s/n) good night, she's too tired to hold any kind of conversation right now. Sleep overtakes her within seconds.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When y/n wakes up again, the sun is already high in the sky. (Y/s/n) is awake but still cuddled into her side. Okimi is nowhere to be found. (Y/n) yawns and stretches. I guess she must've already woken up and left, she thinks.

Slowly, (y/n) gets up as well. She feels groggy and hungry. (Y/s/n) slides out of the blankets as well. (Y/n) gets some fresh water for them to clean up. Once she's dressed properly, she starts looking for fresh clothes for (y/s/n). While she's helping (y/s/n) into the fresh clothes, there is a knock on the door. After (y/n) called for the visitor to come in, the door slides open. She half-expected Yoriichi to enter the room, but she's mistaken.

It is Rai Ubuyashiki entering the room alongside a younger woman who also wears clothes with the Ubuyashiki crest. Y/n guesses that it is the wife of Master Ubuyashiki himself. She hasn't met the Master or his wife yet even though they reside in this mansion as well. Yoriichi told her that the Master is very sick and only participates in important meetings. His wife Yuko always sticks by his side tending to him.

(Y/n) quickly gets up and greets them in a deep bow.

„Good morning, Mrs. Tsugikuni.“, the younger woman greets her. (Y/n) almost blushes upon hearing her call her by Yoriichi's name. It's true that it's now her own name as well but it still sounds foreign to her.

„Good morning, Mrs. Ubuyashiki. What brings you here on this sad morning?“, (y/n) asks. The woman gives her s restrained smile. She understands what (y/n) is implying. What is she doing here talking to (y/n) when there are probably a lot more important people to talk to after the tragedy of tonight?

„I won't take up much of your time.“, Yuko says, „I'm only here to deliver a message.“

(Y/n)'s ears perk up at that. A message? To her? Is it about Yoriichi? Sweat starts to form at the back of her neck.

„My husband wishes to speak to you. He invites you to have tea with him this afternoon.“

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

#demon slayer #demon slayer yoriichi #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x y/n #yoriichi x you #kimetsu no yaiba #yoriichi #yoriichi imagine

108 notes · View notes

comfortless · 7 months

Note

hi syl! omfg i cannot believe we are mutuals, i love your works so much. but have you heard of the midieval concept called “marriage on the gallows?” basically, a person who was given death penalty can still be saved when someone promises to marry them. all i can think about is könig going to a live hanging/ burning at the stake and using marriage on the gallows to have a wife.

not like she was framed or anything, right(????) but don’t worry, könig promises to make her happy and alive now that he’s her husband. or maybe knight! ghost was the one who was about to be killed but y/n is like “I CAN FIX HIM” and marries him instead.

chanting Torta, Torta, Torta hi!! i am hugging you for this. <3 i have heard of it! but never did i think to apply it to König and now here we are… ^^

content/warnings: forced marriage?, vague religious imagery, injury, threat of public execution, vague smut.

When you sell your soul, really sell it, you’re cutting away from the umbilical cord that tethers you to whatever waits in the darkness of the afterlife. You kneel, you pray, you bathe yourself in sacred water and parrot divine words, but you don’t realize you’ve become obscured in invisibility, a shadow, a husk.

He’s clipped her wings and the only thing left to do is end her flight, let her go tumbling down into a pit of sulfur from the rope lead tied to her neck: to die before a sea of jeering faces, horse shit and fine wine, gilded paintings and the darkened splatter of blood, dried and crisp against a wooden stage.

König knows something about that, because there’s a dense, thorny guilt curling in his chest as he looks up at the little sparrow led up to the rope with her face pushed down by a hand that doesn’t belong there.

She’s done no wrong; smiling sweetly at a man like him shouldn’t have resulted in this. His heart shatters when he hears her begin to cry, her battered face wrenched up to face the crowd by the hangman’s cruel hands.

A little, flightless bird like this could never have done what he did to get her here. Gentle, sweet things knew so little of the very blood that pulses in veins, of what a man’s innards look like spilt out on a thick blade.

But of course they will believe anything— she’s a commoner, no special asset to the village. They needed their farmers, their tailors, and men like him— the blacksmith they all shunned as though he had risen from the fiery pit he worked away at himself. They didn’t need her.

Only he did.

So when he steps through the crowd of vultures to watch as the rope is tightened around her delicate neck, his voice comes in a roar. He propositions the hangman that he will take her as his wife, haul this devil back to his shack at the village’s edge and ensure that she— he will spill no more blood.

She weakly raises her head to eye him, recognizing him immediately as the man who had accused her of murdering that stable boy only two nights prior. Her stare is not judgmental or accusatory: she doesn’t have a clue of the lengths he has went to- would go to- to tether her to him.

A fortnight later, the woman becomes his bride.

She doesn’t know what brought her such a malison, how she came to be the wife of a man who once cast his accusations toward her, but she’s grateful to the man who’s cursed her to suffer him.

There’s no celebration, no flowers or dancing. There’s a kiss she nervously leans into at the chapel, shy, while his heart bursts into flames.

She isn’t blessed with meaningful vows, only a pleading profession whispered into her ear when his kisses reach from her neck to the curve of her jaw.

It’s consummated in that darkened shack, not a candle lit where smoke has painted the walls black with ash and dust; a place where she curls her arms over him sweetly and breathes her thanks against his shoulder, where his fingers commit every curve, dip, and ridge of her to memory. His words are lost in her hair, her shoulder, her chest as he devotes every remnant of himself to her entirely. He isn’t gentle, but he tries when her tight whines and whimpers fill his ears, drowning out even his lamentations.

She tolerates him four times over before he can will himself to pull away from her warmth. The guilt is replaced by a sense of purpose, a certainty that all he’s done has been entirely for her. She tells him that she would never hurt another thing, and he whispers against her skin, “I know.”

His flightless engel does not remain downtrodden.

Each morning she wakes him with giggles, face warmed in memory of the night’s prior rapture. She bakes for him, sweet things that he’s never thought himself worthy of prior while he buries himself against her, yearns to pry apart her ribs and bury himself in her softness for all time.

He kisses at what remains of the scars along her neck when she finds him melding down steel for a new weapon, takes her into his lap just to watch the flames dance in her eyes.

#asks!#könig x reader #sorry this is so short!!

189 notes · View notes

sumicchin · 3 months

Text

CHIMES OF THE HEART

❃ a windbreaker (satori nii) reader insert.

CHAPTER 1

Rumor has it that a violent ghost has been plaguing the streets of Makochi. (2.6k words)

content warnings: female reader, mentions of prostitution, let's pretend nothing bad happens after roppo ichiza arc, original characters, swearing, it gets wholesome i swear

"Are you ready to go now, dear?" I feel my caretaker's hands touch my shoulders, light and caring. In front of me was my reflection in the mirror, clad in a white kimono and flower pieces adorning my hair. In the 16 years I've lived, this is the first time I saw myself all dressed up.

It's unfortunate that it had to be for an undesirable occasion.

I let out a small hum, face somber. Hayami, my caretaker since being born into this world, snakes her arms around me while I remain quiet. "If you're worried about us, then there's no need to. We have everything under control," I hear her mutter on my ear. She grasps my shoulders, giving me an earnest smile, "I trust that, you look out for your own."

"You deserve to live an earnest and free life, child."

Footsteps soon pollute the room as men clad in black arrive to escort me. I was to wait in a room alone, soon to meet my 'husband'.

"I wish you all the best. Farewell, my dear."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

My head hung low as I followed them to the banquet hall as was discussed to us a few days ago.

"He'll arrive in a few minutes, stay put."

Unbeknownst to them, we had no plans of actually going through the ceremony.

As soon as the footsteps disappeared, I immediately dashed towards the back exit of the room. Having lived in this shrine for all my life made me aware of the secret passages around, and I wouldn't dare want to know why those were around.

The passage leads to the nearby river where a boat near the docks was placed by Hayami. I rushed towards it, not looking back.

I paddled fast, my mind in a haze, thinking of what could have become of everyone after knowing I escaped.

I can't let their sacrifice go to waste...

Hours passed, my arms tired from paddling nonstop as I couldn't waste a single moment. I just know that they're hot on my trail, I couldn't risk stopping.

Clouds started forming, and soon waves started accumulating. Just my luck.

We didn't anticipate a huge storm today. All I could do is hold my breath as I see a huge wave coming towards my boat.

Images of Hayami's smile before I was escorted flooded my mind.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

It was a rainy day in the neighborhood, but that didn't stop the boys of Bofurin to patrol the town.

The representative first years, except Sugishita who decided to help Umemiya with his saplings, all brought their umbrellas as they walk around town while talking about the most mundane things.

"Who in the hell would even go out in this weather," Sakura groans. As much as he wanted to do something exciting (street brawl, for example), the weather warrants a day for rest.

"We just need to do one more round and we can call it a day," Nirei says with a huff. "I really wanted to take notes about the stuff you guys said earlier, but I don't want to risk getting my notebook wet."

"That would cause great trouble for you, Nirei," Suo agrees. He himself has been quiet the whole trip, too absorbed in the rain's ambience. The five of them have been walking around town for a good hour now, with nothing out of the sort. The most exciting part of the endeavor was probably Kiryu almost breaking Tsugeura's neck after the tall lad sneezed in front of him, Suo thinks.

"If we aren't gonna do something fun, then let's at least talk about something interesting while we finish up!" Tsugeura exclaims. Kiryu on his phone doesn't bother to look up at said buff male, "At least talk about something other than your protein shakes and virtues."

"I agree with Kiryu," Suo says with a hint of distaste.

Tsugeoka laughs, "I'll save those for another day! Right now, I'm feeling pumped to hear scary stories! Doesn't the rainy weather feel gloomy and stuff? Perfect vibe!"

"But didn't you say you're scared shitless of ghosts? You're just gonna make yourself piss," Sakura scoffs.

Tsugeura moves past his group and blocks their path with a determined face, "You guys gotta hear me out for this one!!! My friends from the other street have been talking about this 'White Lady' recently, and apparently, they spotted it just earlier!" He shudders visibly.

Kiryu looks at him disinterested, "Wasn't there a similar incident at the rooftop? It was only a black cloth all along."

"You should stop scaring yourself, Tsugeura. It's bad for the heart," Suo laughs, however, the boy next to him is visibly bothered by the story.

"So it is real...!" Nirei, with bloodshot eyes, starts shaking uncontrollably.

"What's real? And why are you shaking?!" Sakura exclaims. The blonde looks at his peers, face pale as he recalls the rumors, "It's said that the ghost had long hair and was wearing a white kimono. Get close to it and it'll attack, they say!"

A manly scream erupts out of Tsugeura.

"And since it's a ghost, you can't fight back!!! Four men apparently were injured ever since the sightings started!"

Another scream erupts from Tsugeura.

Suo's eyes lit up upon hearing the four men mention, "Oh, you meant the wanted traffickers in the red light district? The Roppo Ichiza would be glad to hear about that."

"At least the women can be at ease now. This ghost might be of help to us," Kiryu adds.

The other three boys in the group all just stared at each other for a moment, but Sakura's interest was piqued as soon as he heard 'fight'. The ghost must be tough to beat up four grown men!

Suo hums with concern, "How did the men come across the ghost anyway?"

"Apparently, if you hear the clanks of wooden sandals—"

Clank. Clank.

"Exactly like that one, it's a telltale sign that the ghost is nearby."

Nirei's train of thoughts stop as he looks towards where his group is gazing at.

Long hair with a white kimono.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Nirei and Tsugeura cry as they hug each other.

"Well, if it isn't the star of the show," Suo says, eyes wide at what he's seeing.

Sakura and Kiryu look at the figure with curiosity, seemingly wanting to approach it.

"Can we be sure that this isn't a real person," Kiryu trails, "That looks awfully...real."

Sakura steps forward, "Only one way to find out."

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

Apparently, I survived that storm.

The weather remains gloomy like before, and I assume it's around midnight.

My body feels heavy, my mind is fuzzy, but I had to ignore these and get moving.

I walked until I saw signs of civilization. I was never allowed to go outside of the shrine other than the market, so all I could rely on right now was my intuition and fists.

All the shops were closed, but the street lamps were all lit—they looked beautiful. If I weren't running for my life, I would've basked in this moment for a bit longer.

I needed to get some sustenance and shelter soon, my body has been giving me signs of malfunction.

I walked around a corner and was greeted by four armed men, all huddled together smoking cigarettes.

"That new catch you got is pretty experienced. Exactly the boss' type," I hear one of them say with the rest of the men laughing, saying more vulgar and inappropriate acts.

The mainland has it worse than I thought.

The group of men drop their cigarettes upon looking at the glowing machine in their hands. Apparently, it's past midnight by 10 minutes. Hayami would get angry at me if she knew I stayed up this late.

"Break's over. Let's head back to the bar," a hooded figure says and soon the three other men follow. They walk in my direction and noticed my presence, immediately turning their attention towards me.

"Oh, you there, pretty lady. You tryna catch some guys around this time of the night?"

They laugh.

I just kept walking, ignoring their catcalling. As soon as our paths cross, one of the men grabs my arm and flings me towards them.

His other hand grabs my chin and lifts my face, almost as if inspecting it. A pleased hum erupts from his nicotine reeking face.

"You could make for a fine prostitute."

With all my remaining energy, I send a kick to his abdomen, the man falling to the ground as he clutched his stomach.

"What the—hey! Get this bitch tied up!" All three men charge at me, but they all crumble like a tower of cards.

Four piles of unconscious bodies around me.

"G-ghost!!!"

I heard a woman scream as she runs away, dropping the bag she's carrying from panic.

The people back at the shrine would shun me for stealing, but I'm too starved to think straight. Rummaging through the bag, I come across some leftovers. I nabbed the food and went back to the unconscious bodies, searching for anything useful.

A few coins that can hopefully buy bread or water.

My kimono feels too heavy from all the moisture, but I'd rather endure it than wear clothing that smells like smoke and alcohol.

I ran away as soon as I looted whatever's useful, searching for a place to hide and rest.

Hopefully, tomorrow treats me better.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

"Don't do it, Sakura!" Nirei frets, finger pointing at the white figure. "Who knows what that ghost will do to you!"

"I'm not buying the ghost crap, if I get a hold of that thing, then it ain't a ghost!" Sakura exclaims as he approached the finger, dropping his umbrella in the progress.

"Ah Sakura, didn't you just recover from a cold?" Suo says as he picks up the boy's forgotten umbrella.

"I won't be able to fight with one hand."

'That's cringe,' Kiryu grimaces.

Tsugeura, trembling profusely, can only bid his captain all the luck in the world. "I can't watch this!!!"

"So, you're the ghost everyone's been talking about."

He doesn't get a response.

"Those four men aren't part of our territory, but I can't let you running around our town free," Sakura clenches his fist and runs towards the figure. He strikes a fast punch, only for the figure to step aside and appear behind him. He goes for a kick, but the ghost avoided him once more. This goes on for a while, Sakura barraging the ghost with powerful punches and swift kicks, only for naught.

"Why aren't you fighting back?!"

"Maybe it's because it is a ghost!" Suo replies playfully.

Tsugeura, pale as paper, could only look through his fingers, "Tell me when it's all over!"

"Suo, Kiryu, don't you guys think you could help out Sakura? This is getting nowhere!" Nirei says.

"I want to but, I don't really want to get my clothes wet," Kiryu nonchalantly says, "Plus it's fun to watch from here."

"Same here." Suo chirps.

"Why are you guys so chill about this?! There's some paranormal activity going around and you guys are just treating this like it's some circus act—"

A loud thunk was heard, the boys turned their heads over to Sakura who was now on the floor. While the boys were engaging in playful banter, Sakura was suddenly hit by a powerful kick to the back of his head. The force of it almost resembles Togame's punch, he thinks.

The rest of the boys come to his aid, with Nirei acting as his clutch as he catches his breath.

Sakura heaves, "That's no ghost, it's human just like us."

"Fuck, I thought I could handle it myself, but I'll be needing your guy's help. The only objective right now is to capture that thing so it doesn't cause trouble for the town." He's not exactly sure if he's supposed to make a villain out of the mysterious person, but it's better safe than sorry. Before his face got plummeted to the ground, he swore to himself that he was able to clutch the figure's right ankle, cold to the touch.

Everyone nods in agreement, understanding the assignment. By this point, their umbrellas all dance on the floor as they prepare to catch their target.

"I'll overcome my fear for the townspeople's sake!" Tsugeura roars, taking his stance.

He charges towards the figure and tries to go in for a grab, but he ends up catching air.

Suo and Kiryu now taking the whole situation seriously follow suit and try to get near the figure with haste. Kiryu tries to corner the figure, but it starts to use the wall as leverage and makes a run to escape. Suo notices this and was able to predict the person's landing, only for his shoulder to be stepped on.

Their target soon makes its escape, not even allowing the boys to regain their composure.

Nirei, who was watching by the sidelines, was able to discern which direction the figure went and relayed this information to his Bofurin peers. They decided to assimilate it in their group chat as well to make the task easier.

Highschoolers hunting for a 'ghost' in the middle of a downpour made headlines that day.

❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋❋

The students of Bofurin all get word of the hunt. Needless to say, everyone was joining for the hell of it.

"So you're telling me, this ghost is not actually a ghost?" Umemiya says, slightly disappointed. His hope of meeting the occult, shattered. Everyone sweats a drop at their leader's statement, except Sugishita who reflected the same feeling of disappointment. Students who were available that day all gathered at Furin's rooftop, to which the crops and seedlings all glistened at having been watered by mother nature. All grade captains and the four kings were present, indicating the severity of the situation.

Or that they didn't really have anything going on for the day.

"Anything else we need to know about the target?" Hiragi asks the first year boys, to which Nirei perks up.

"U-uhm, I was watching the whole time so I think I got a good look at them. Other than the long hair and tattered white kimono, height-wise I think they're about my size," he nervously says, flipping pages of his notebook. "Sakura also said that the skin was cold as ice due to being exposed to the rain for days. I don't think the target could've gone far after our encounter with it since they might've been suffering from hypothermia by now!"

'So he was jotting down details the entire time...how diligent,' Suo thought to himself, acting like a proud father.

Everyone takes in the information and is about to head downstairs until Kiryuu's voice reaches everyone, halting their steps. "I don't want to get ahead of myself, but are we sure the target isn't a girl or something? I mean, I know a girl when I see one. Don't you agree, Suo?"

Leonardo DiCaprio nodded his head with a smile, "I thought so as well, but I was afraid Sakura would hold back once he heard about it."

Cueu steam coming out of said boy's ears.

"If that's the case, then let's proceed with caution everyone! Don't act like savages if you come across the girl," Tsubaki suggests with Umeyama agreeing. "Make sure to keep communication open once she's on sight so that everyone can close down the area."

Needless to say, Tsubaki was worried ever since Kiryuu and Suo suggested that they were to capture a girl.

"Are y'all done with the chitchat? If we don't move our asses then we can kiss goodbye to the whole thing," Kaji interrupts, already looking impatient and raring to go.

"Welp, you heard the man. Bofurin, roll out!"

winbre brainrot real ;-;

#windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker

94 notes · View notes

seeingivy · 1 year

Text

enchanted

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my debut concert event

**part one of this fic here icymi (read before or its kinda confusing)

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: satoru and your parents are annoying, like in the last part, readers mom just says a bunch of mean shit (including comments on body image, etc), gojo being defensive of his wife but also corny asf, babies megumi + tsumiki having lil nightmares and wanting to sleep w their parents

an: KING OF MY HEART IS ONE OF MY FAV FICS EVER. so glad the pookie who requested this asked for it bc I was so excited writing it. also corny lil enchanted lyrics are at the end. mister satoru gojo is enchanted to meet you and ur lil babies megumi and tsumiki just love you

“Dr. L/N?”

You look up from the computer, breaking away from your sheer focus of charting all the patients you just saw in the past hour (nine patients - which sounds mediocre, but in actuality is insanity on earth).

Because when they’re sick, their parents ask a lot of questions. Which you understand and always honor - but that means you’re always running on a back log, running from one room to the next with no breaks in between. Satoru thinks that you’ll collapse on the floor one day while doing it. And you tell him that he’s praying on your downfall.

“Yes, Sarah? What’s up?”

“Your husband’s here to have lunch with you.”

“Ah. I still haven’t caught up on my charting and I really need to-”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, your senior advisor, Dr. Aoki, giving you a warm smile. She’s almost thirty years your senior - soft wrinkles and grey patches spread throughout her hair.

And she really, really loves Satoru. Which you know because she doesn’t shut up about him, always going on about how sweet he is.

“Go. Have lunch with your husband. I’ll finish off for you.”

“Ah. Dr. Aoki, I can’t let you. Plus, you don’t even know-”

“You take detailed notes. And I’m old, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Now go eat lunch with your sweet husband before I do it for you.”

You smile, giving her hand a squeeze, before dragging your feet to the breakroom - suddenly hyperaware of the tension in the back of your knees, your shoulders, and the back of your eyes. Satoru’s waiting for you at the center table - two glass bento boxes and two iced coffee’s sitting on the table.

He’s scrolling aimlessly on his phone and you’re more than positive that he’s playing Cut the Rope. A game Megumi begged him to download, but now he plays more than Megumi. Which just pisses Megumi off, because Satoru plays so far ahead in the game that Megumi can’t even remember which level it was he stopped at.

You look down at the cup of iced coffee, Satoru’s handwriting inscribed on the side.

pookie <;3

Bastard. He knows you hate it when you call him that.

Satoru looks up and smacks his phone down at the table as you take his side, placing your head flat against the clear, white table. Satoru immediately directs his hand to the back of your hair, his fingers soothing into the tense muscles in the back of your neck.

“Hello my little workaholic.”

“Good afternoon my little pain in the ass.”

He laughs, lifting your head up as he opens up the boxes, sliding forward the food he made and sticking the fork in your hand. You look down at the line up - egg fried rice and a wild assortments of fruits and vegetables on the side. They’re all cut into sweet little shapes - the cucumbers in hearts, the strawberries in flowers.

Right. You had tasked Satoru with making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for one week when you were on the night call. When you had returned, all he did was scold you for making very boring lunches for Megumi and Tsumiki.

Granted, you thought they weren’t half bad. You always made sure to give them a little treat - strawberry gummies for Tsumiki and sour candy for Megumi - and left sweet little notes in their lunch boxes, saying you were proud of them, that Megumi was going to do great on his presentation, and that Tsumiki looked pretty today.

Satoru resolved the situation by heading to the store and buying the special little cutouts, shiny new metal tin boxes for Megumi and Tsumiki, and even glittery stationery to leave them both notes.

Yeah and he never let you make their lunch again. He’d often drop by to the office to eat with you, since he knew that was the only time you would eat anything, and bring you by the third box he arranged with theirs in the morning.

“Hard day, my love?”

“Yeah, Satoru. And it’s not even over yet.”

He places the fork in your hand again, instructing you to eat as you keep talking, tasking himself with mixing up the layers of the coffee he brought you.

“What’s the point of working so hard? Didn’t you marry me for my money?”

“Well, obviously but-”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“That’s so rude to admit. You should keep that type of stuff to yourself.”

“Okay, Satoru. You married me as a cover for your girlfriend and-”

“Stop throwing that in my face! So you have one girlfriend and suddenly you’re the bad-”

“It is when you’re married!”

You both laugh, Satoru ruffling your hair, as he opens up the second box, sliding it towards you as you keep eating.

“You don’t want, Toru?”

“No. They’re both for you. You really do work too hard, Y/N.”

“Well. Our parents could cut us off - we don’t exactly do everything they want. And I want to be self sufficient and be a good role model for-”

“Tsumiki and Megumi. I know, my love. I’m just saying.”

You lean into Satoru’s touch, placing your aching head against his shoulder as he leans over, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. You finish off your own box (and Satoru’s) and down your iced coffee (and half of Satoru’s, before he starts scolding you about healthy caffeine intakes).

He gives you a sweet kiss goodbye, giving soft smiles to the rest of your coworkers, as you buckle in for the rest of your shift.

“Satoru.”

“Hm.”

“Look at what my mom texted me.”

He untangles himself from his position - which is just using you as a third pillow - and peaks his head up, squinting his eyes at your phone in the dark.

Your mom, heinous bitch she is, sent you a text reminding you about all the things you need to do for your dinner with the Gojo’s tomorrow.

Wear a dress. Make sure it’s appropriate, but enough to keep a guy like Satoru interested. You don’t want your husband running off just because you’re boring him.

Make sure to wear the wedding ring Satoru gave you, not the engagement. You’re going to look tacky otherwise.

Fresh flowers, that haven’t bloomed yet. Don’t embarrass me by bringing flowers that’ll die in a day.

And please don’t leave your hair fully down. It washes you out.

Satoru glares at the camera, looking up at your face. He finds it hard to read you in situations like this. Because in all honesty, he knows that you hate your parents. But he doesn’t miss the way you act differently when it comes to them.

Because when you’re mad at Satoru for not picking up Tsumiki on time or at Megumi for not telling you he had a project due tomorrow until nine pm, you get a reasonable amount of mad. Pink in the cheeks, a little bit of scolding, followed by fixing the problem and talking it out.

But with them you, you don’t really talk about it. And he’s not sure if it’s because he’s not privy to the conversations that you have with them, but for some reason, he thinks there aren’t any. And that you just take it, when it’s them.

Which he understands. Too well. That’s part of the reason he’s with you, in this bed right now. Cuddled up in your arms, pressing lazy kisses around your shoulder.

Because his parents asked you to marry him. Because you told him you didn’t mind if he kept his own life outside of it, that you were just doing what you had to do.

And now that he…loves you, parts of it all make him sad. That you’d take someone telling you what to do - telling you that you don’t look good with your hair down when you look good all the time and that you’re tacky or boring or-

“Hey. Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You know I…love you right? For real?”

“Yeah. You told me.”

“But like, for real, okay? Not just because we’re…married or whatever. I actually really, really love you. You’re very pretty and you’re always so good with Megumi and Tsumiki and you’re so good at your job and-”

You stop him in his tracks by cupping his face in his ands, quirking your head to the side. You lean down and peck at his lips, pressing your fingers into his dimples.

“I love you too, Satoru but what’s this about?”

He frowns, placing his head back in your lap as you start running your hands through his white locks of hair, soft to the touch. You can feel his cheeks are warm from his face lying against your bare legs and you can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s blushing. Even after one year of marriage (and eight months of real marriage), he’s still nervous around you.

“I don’t know. Your mom’s just stupid. You’re not boring or tacky and you look very pretty with your hair down.”

“Thank you, Toru. For getting so offended on my behalf. But I don’t care, let’s go to bed, yeah?”

He nods, shuffling the sheets around you as he sprawls across the bed. One thing about Satoru, he has to touch you when he’s sleeping.

Not in the…dirty way. It could be the coldest night of the year and he has his entire body weight on you, treating you like a stuffed animal he was sleeping with. Or it’s the hottest night of the year and he’s as far away as he can be from you - just placing his hand on your forearm or tangling one of his legs with yours.

Touchy. Even when he’s asleep.

After not even five minutes of sleep, you feel a tapping on your nose, your features crinkling up from the sensation.

“Toru. Quit tickling me.”

He murmurs back incoherently, tangling around in the sheets as a response. Right. Satoru also sleeps like the walking dead. And he can and will sleep anywhere and everywhere, almost instantly. It’s actually a talent.

“Um. That wasn’t him.”

You flutter your eyes open to find Megumi, standing awkwardly at your side. You immediately sit up, clicking on the light as Satoru starts groaning behind you, smacking his hand on the bed to get you to turn the light off. You look over at the clock and realize it’s well past three, meaning Megumi should have been asleep hours ago.

“Megs. You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. But Tsumiki, she’s like crying a lot. Usually, what I do works but she just won’t stop.”

You shake Satoru at your side, his eyes finally fluttering open as he looks at you and Megumi in confusion.

“Megumi-chan. You better be interrupting our sleep for something good.”

“Satoru, stop it. Go get Tsumiki. Now. I think she’s crying.”

Satoru immediately stands up, stalking out of the room as you turn back to Megumi, taking his tiny hands in yours. He looks like he usually does - blank expression on his face, avoiding eye contact, tiredness on his face.

You wrap one of your hands around his cheek and squeeze, feeling his skin warm under your touch.

“What do you think happened, Megs?”

“She had a bad dream. Usually, we kind of just stay with each other till it stops. But, it didn’t really work.”

“Have you had them while you were here? Or her?”

“Yeah sometimes.”

You can feel your heart clench in your chest and you immediately wrap Megumi in your arms, brushing your hands through his soft, black hair. You can still smell the shampoo in his hair from earlier, the fresh smell springing into your nose. They should be coming to you. Not each other. Megumi’s only five. And she’s just seven.

“Megumi. You know you can come to us about that stuff. Both of you. And you should be because we know how to help you and-”

You stop talking as Satoru walks into the room, craning your head to the side to survey the situation. Satoru’s carrying Tsumiki in his arms, something he doesn’t do very often, and you can hear her soft sniffles as he places her on the bed between you, rubbing circles into her back.

You take the cup of water on the nightstand (that Satoru leaves out for you everyday so you can stay hydrated) and hand it to her, directing her to calm her breaths. She’s shaking so hard and her eyes are so pink that she can barely hold the glass, Satoru taking it from her hands and tilting her head up so she can drink it.

You look over at Megumi, his eyes twitching as he looks at Tsumiki, and you direct him to sit on the bed next to you, right next to Tsumiki and in between you and Satoru.

You never really know what to do in situations like this. And neither does Satoru. I mean hell, you’re only twenty-three and Satoru’s only twenty-four. And they haven’t been your kids for too long.

Other parents, the ones who come into your practice, talk about how they know somethings wrong. They can feel it in their gut. Their parental instinct. But you don’t have any of that, especially not with Tsumiki and Megumi.

And you know it’s not something you can learn and something that just comes from being their parents, but you sincerely wish it was. Because Tsumiki and Megumi deserve to have someone who can read them like that, who knows what’s wrong with them, and talks for them when they don’t know how. And-

Satoru opens up his arms, with Tsumiki crawls into his lap and curls herself up against his chest. She looks so small, barely covering his entire frame as she hiccups into his chest, pushing the back of her hand against his eyes.

Satoru beckons Megumi to join her and he awkwardly crawls up, the two of them nestled in Satoru’s arms. Maybe you spoke too soon. Because it always seems like Satoru knows what he’s doing.

“You too, goofy.”

You roll your eyes as you scoot closer to them, laying your head against Satoru’s shoulders as you start running your hands through Tsumiki’s hair, rubbing soft circles into the small of her back like Satoru was earlier.

“Hi Miki.”

“H-hi Y/N.”

“How you feeling, sweet girl?”

“O-okay.”

You soften your hands in her hair, focusing on braiding the ends as you talk, the three of them hanging on to every word you say.

“Miki, Megs. I know you’ve…been together for a long time. Before me and Satoru came around. And I’m sure you have your own ways of…being there for each other. But, you can let us be there for you too, you know?”

You feel Tsumiki stiffen under your touch and you pull back, holding the braid in place on your head.

“I don’t mean to let each other go. You’re siblings and that’s one of the most important relationships you can have. But just know, Satoru and I can be smart sometimes. Well, I can. I don’t really know about him.”

“Hey.”

Tsumiki and Megumi laugh, which stops Satoru’s protests all together. It’s working. And Satoru’s jealous of you, because as always, you know the right thing to say. To get them to smile again, tell you what’s wrong. And sure, you’ve always had that effect on Satoru but he loves that you can do it with them too. You’ve clearly got this parenting thing more figured out than him, he thinks.

“But, we can help you too, you know? I’m a big girl. I can deal with whatever you give me.”

Tsumiki turns to the side, crawling out of Satoru’s lap as she crawls into yours, squeezing herself in your arms.

“Th-thanks, Y/N. But maybe not right now?”

“Whenever you want, okay? Let’s just go to bed now, it’s late.”

“Can I sleep with you, Y/N? And Satoru?”

Satoru leans forward, squeezing Tsumiki’s hand in hers as he nods, opening up the covers for her. Megumi awkwardly looks between you and Satoru and you catch on fast, signaling for him to join you under the covers as well. The four of you are squished together, Tsumiki clinging on to you and Megumi clinging on to Satoru.

They both fall asleep fast and you give a weary look to Satoru in the dark, which he returns with a smile.

You hate leaving at a time like this. And you hate your parents and even Gojo’s parents for making you come to a stupid dinner like this.

Your kids, that they don’t know about, need you. You had tried your best to make Tsumiki comfortable, making her a stack of warm, strawberry pancakes and letting her pick what you guys ate for lunch.

And when you had to leave her with Nanami and Shoko to go see the Gojo’s, you swear you could feel your heart clench at the thought of leaving her. And Megumi. And of the two of them being uncomfortable without you there.

You could tell from the look in Satoru’s eyes that he shared your sentiments, his gaze weary as he said goodbye, lingering by the door until you two really had to leave. And then you both made your trek to the Gojo Estate.

And god do you hate it here. In all but ten minutes of dinner, your mother, assfucking clown she was, had already found ten different things to pick on.

Your hair has split ends, you should cut it.

You should slow down on the food.

You could have worn a more flattering color.

Every spiky comment she makes, Satoru squeezes his hand in yours under the table, grounding you in the moment. If it wasn’t for him and the soft looks he was giving you every few minutes, you’re sure you would have broken the centerpiece in the middle of the table by now.

“Say, Y/N, Satoru.”

You look up to find Mr. Gojo beaming at you, the smile not meeting his eyes. You can feel Satoru’s hand tense in yours under the table and you know it’s your turn to protect him from his dad.

“Did you start trying for kids?”

“Dad.”

“What, Satoru? It’s an important question. You guys have been married for a year now and surely there’s no better time than now to start trying.”

You can feel your mouth dry at the thought. Kids. Kids of your own. Like, a crying, pooping baby - half parts you and half parts Satoru.

How in the world could they think you were ready for that? Because in all honesty, Satoru’s your husband in name but he feels like your boyfriend.

You’ve been together for eight months. You haven’t gone on a vacation together or met his college best friend and you don’t know what his favorite smoothie flavor is or what the first car he drove was and they want you to start popping out kids?

You and Satoru aren’t ready for kids. And really, you already have two kids. That need you right now. And you have all the time in the world to have more and you really, really just like things the way they are. For now, and-

“They’ll get working on it.”

You feel your eyes boggle out of your head as you crane your neck to look at your mom, a self-assured smile placed on her face. She can’t really be serious, can she?

“Oh, how sweet! A grandchild. Oh, I do hope it’s a boy. So we can pass on the Gojo name and all.”

It’s Satoru’s turn to glare at his mother and you’re sure that he has the same bitter taste in his mouth as you. Sure, they were the reason you guys got married but they had no right to treat you guys like this. Like you were put together to make some offspring for them to fawn over.

“Although, I wouldn’t mind a girl. Boys can be rowdy and insensitive.” says Mr. Gojo, a matter-of-fact tone in his words.

“That’s not true. Boys can be sensitive too. You just have to raise them right.” you respond, muttering the words under your breath.

Megumi’s sweet and sensitive. He always avoids stomping on flowers growing out of the cracks of the cement and he always writes cards for his teachers on holiday’s and always says please and thank you after every little thing you and Satoru do for him, even if it is under his breath.

“Well, I hope it’s a boy. Girls come with attitude.” your dad responds, the implication in his tone clear.

“No daughter of ours would take back-handed comments like that.”

Because Tsumiki’s never done that. Because Satoru remembers the day someone tried to pick on her in her class and all she did was calmly respond. Stand her ground, surely but firmly. Something he’s sure that she learned from you. And to think someone could dismiss that off as attitude is so fucking-

You squeeze Satoru’s hand under the table, signaling him to stop. Because he’s being rude. Because he shouldn’t talk back to your father even if he’s wrong and-

“Satoru. Stop.” you whisper, awkwardly eyeing the four of them as he deflates.

The four of you awkwardly sit in silence, the forks clicking against the plates. Satoru’s crushing your hand into oblivion under the table and you can see that he’s agitated from the way his shoulders are all scrunched up. And when his dad talks next, he really can’t hold it in anymore.

“Satoru, son. All you have to do take her to bed one time to pass on the Gojo na-”

Satoru smacks his fist against the table, the glassware making a loud noise against the surface. You look over to find Satoru smoldering, the way he often did when he was near his dad.

“Don’t talk about my wife like that. She’s not some thing for you to use. You can try that shit on anyone else but you know damn well I’m not letting you do it to her.”

Mrs. Gojo’s features scrunch up in frustration, a pinched look on her face as she starts massaging the bridge of her nose. Satoru stands up, pulling you up with him as he stomps out, dragging you out with him.

You two drive in silence the entire way home. Satoru’s still smoldering in his drivers seat, jaw tight against his skin as he clenches his fists on the steering wheel, knuckles going white. And you’re unsure of what you can say to him to ease it, make him feel better.

He parks the car in the driveway, leaning his head against the seat to look up through the sunroof, the stars glittering in the sky above you. He makes no motions to get out of the car, the engine and lights still turned on despite the fact that you and Satoru were home.

“Y/N.”

“Hm, Satoru?”

“You-you okay?”

“What? Yeah. Are you?”

He doesn’t respond and instead loosens his tie, the fabric hanging from the sides of his collar.

“I just…hate them. So much. Why would we rush having a child when we aren’t ready? And who are they to talk about you like that? Like all I keep you around for is to bear my children.”

You’re not sure what to say so you snake your hand into his, leaning over the glove box to lean onto his shoulder. You can feel him deflate under you, leaning his head on top of yours as he presses his hand against your waist, his hands rubbing back and forth on the fabric.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah, love?”

“You feel like my boyfriend, right now. I know you’re my husband but…we’ve only been together for eight months. And I know it’s weird to say but…I’d like to have a kid with you someday just…not now.”

His hand comes up, angling your face up so you’re looking at him, a big smile spread across his face. You can feel your cheeks burning from the admission and you clench your eyes shut to avoid seeing the teasing look on Satoru’s face.

“Y/N. You’d want to have kids with me?”

You nod and Satoru’s face splits into a big smile, his hands shaking in yours.

“Well, yeah. It would be cute, when the time is right. Megumi and Tsumiki can have a little sibling and it’ll be like…a little us.

“A little us?”

“Your nose, my eyes, hopefully all of my looks and none of your annoyingness.”

“You’re so sweet, Y/N. I don’t know how I ever lucked out with such a charming girl like you.” he responds, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You laugh in response, beaming at him as you talk on.

“I love you, Satoru. And I’d love to have kids with you but we’re just…we already have two kids and I think they need us right now. They haven’t opened up yet and-”

“I know, sweet. I agree. Trust me, I’d love nothing more than putting a baby in your right here, right now in this car but-”

“Pervert.”

“Why are you so rude? Every word is like a bullet wound in my chest.”

You lean over, pressing a kiss to his chest as you lean back and glare at him. He smiles at you, a sweet look on his face.

“What was that for?”

“You said bullet wound in your chest. I was just kissing your ego better.”

He leans forward, cupping your face as he kisses you, hanging off the ends of your lips as he squeezes his face in your hands. He pulls apart, pressing kisses all over your face as he talks, his words making your cheeks burn.

“You’re so-”

Kiss.

“Damn cute.”

Kiss.

“I hate you sometimes.”

Kiss.

“When we have kids, I hope they’re all like you. Pretty eyes, soft hair, snarky attitude. She’ll be so easy to love, all goofy and idiotic like you.”

“She, Satoru?”

“Oh, she’s totally going to be a girl. My three girls. You, Tsumiki, and her.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out already?”

“Well, I’m waiting. For when you’re ready and I’m ready and all that. But yeah. I’ve already seen how our entire life is going to play out. You and I are going to grow old together. Sick it to our parents. Have the type of love kids dream about. All that lovey-dovey stuff.”

You and Satoru, hands pressed together, pad into the dark of the house, slowly climbing up the stairs. When you amble into your bed room, you can hear soft snores in your bed - Tsumiki and Megumi fast asleep under your sheets. There’s a tiny little sticky-note pressed to the light switch, which you and Satoru both squint at.

They want to sleep with "their parents”. Their words, not ours. - Shoko

You and Satoru quickly peel out of your clothes and climb under the sheets - Satoru leaning over to press a kiss to all three of your heads before fluttering his own eyes shut.

And you hate to say it, because all in all the night wasn’t perfect, but you really, really don’t want to let it go. Every part of this night is…sparkling in your mind. Satoru defending you, telling you that he loves you, that he wants to have kids with you. You-

You count yourself lucky. That you don’t have to wonder if Satoru is in love with someone else or what he thinks about you or any other thing.

Because you know the person he’s waiting on is you.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist: @porridgesblog @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters

655 notes · View notes

milky-aeons · 8 months

Text

— BY A COMMANDER’S SIDE

౨ৎ . . . even though you may not always be by his side, there are multiple ways you and ARMIN ARLERT express your love for each other.

warnings: sexual content, memories of war, ptsd, marriage, pregnancy, mdni, w.c 845

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ tenerife sea — ed sheeran ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was, at first, not very forthcoming about his feelings towards you. Who allowed them to balloon into something monstrous, something that wouldn't let his eyes leave you no matter where you came or when you went.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who mustered up the courage to ask you on a date after weeks of deliberation. That mind of his really was a double-edged sword, having the ability to lead squadrons to victory but crumbled when he looked into your eyes and became so adorably tongue-tied.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, on the day of your wedding, wore a crown of flowers in her hair and jewellery made from emerald sea-glass. Who kept the jewellery on that night you spent together, the smooth stone sliding over your bouncing breasts as you rode him into ecstasy.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who held him tight on those nights he couldn't sleep. When the haunting echoes of war visited him instead of dreams. Who cradled him against your chest and carded through his golden hair, humming to him a song from your childhood, until his tense shoulder muscles smoothened down and he took more even, slumbering breaths.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was always phenomenal when it came to choosing gifts. Whether they be for special occasions like your one year anniversary — when he surprised you with that delicate little music box specially crafted to play that tune, the one you always sung to him — or little delicates he brought home after a long day's work. Chocolates, flowers, books from the Capital where he conducted the duties of Commander.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would know immediately when your husband has had a taxing day. When he'd come through the door of the little town house you shared — his eyes shadowed, his hair mused from where he ruffled at it. You would go to him and place longer, sweeter kisses against his lips. You would instruct him to sit in the kitchen so you could brew him some tea, so you could take your fingers to his temples and draw soothing little circles.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who brought you to the beach on late summer's nights. Who would be mysterious and playful with his little secret, ushering you out of the house when you least expected it. Of course, he had the charade planned right down to the finer details; the standing wax candles in the sand, the blanket, the bottle of fine Mitras wine and two polished glasses waiting to be drunk.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was reserved with his desires, and yet eager to please you at the same time. Who would murmur hot and heady into your ear; where do you need it, love? Does it feel good when I do this? Tell me what you need, let me please you. Who had years of power in his honed abdomen muscles and thighs as he would use them to thrust into you without conviction. Who would relish in the way you called out his name as your walls clenched around him, undoing him by the very seams.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who gave him a small clothed package unannounced one day. Watchful as he undid the layers with those gorgeous blue eyes wide and curious. Who did not take long to understand what the gift meant — a little wooden horse and a hat that would be much too small for him. He had stood, unbelieving, his eyes shining with tears, and picked you up in a hug that stole the air from your lungs and spun you round, round, round.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who lay beside your curved belly swollen with life and read to them. About fields of fire, endless seas of ice, vast rivers of colour in the night sky. Who would place kisses to your unborn child, who would place kisses on the back of your hand and tell you how much he loved you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who cooked with you on the days he had been spared from his military duties. Who would lift your beautiful child up into the air and make them giggle as you stirred the pot. Who would come up behind you and encircle you in his strong arms, placing a quick, chaste kiss on your temple.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was cunning with him, adoring the blush that still coloured your husbands cheeks when you did something daring. You would seek him out on late nights in the study as he poured over reports by lamplight. Quietly, you would slip your nightdress down from your shoulders and let it fall to a pool at your feet. It always made your pulse flutter, the way he looked at you, like a man strangled. Like a man so madly and irrevocably in love.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who, before he left every morning and before he closed his eyes at night, would mutter the same exact words;

"I love you, my moon and stars."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would murmur right back;

"And I love you too, my entire night sky."

#attack on titan #aot #aot fanfiction #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert fluff #armin arlet smut #armin arlet headcanons #i was feeling very big feelings for this man tonight #i love him too much #🪄— milky writes #headers by firefly graphics! <3 #‼️ — spoilers #💓 — thump

164 notes · View notes

jinkicake · 2 years

Text

Washing His Hair

Diluc, Kaeya, Tighnari, Xiao x Reader

A/N: I was tots excited to write this bc i wanted fluff,, happy belated birthday to tighnari (whats your name b.o.b so they calling you bob) yay bath time!

WC - 2k~

~~~

Diluc R.

Diluc is exhausted, it may not show because of his extreme dedication to maintaining a pleasant facade but, you know better.

It’s why you wordlessly drag him to the bathroom in the early afternoon, forcing him to sit on the rim of the bathtub as you bend down to place the stopper in it. He silently watches you as you begin to fill the tub with water and sprinkle in a few aromatic flower petals.

The way you treat him with such kindness baffles him.

You kiss the corner of his eyes while removing his jacket, you cup his chin softly while easily pulling the ribbon out from his hair. There is a gentle side to your touch as you remove his gloves and kiss each of his rugged knuckles like they haven’t ended countless lives before.

The man doesn’t understand how any of the archons could have blessed him with such a miracle. Your kindness shines through each of your actions and, for the briefest moment, it physically hurts Diluc. How could he ever measure up to someone who is worthy of your love and affection?

“Come on, get in the tub,” You gently pat the tops of his bare thighs and the action snaps Diluc from his internal demise. He blinks at you before doing as you ask, he lets you direct his body exactly as you want in the small porcelain space. “relax, Diluc.”

With his hands resting on the rim of the bathtub, chest fully on display and out of the water, you reach over to grab his hand. You offer him a gentle smile before squeezing his hand in your own.

Diluc can’t meet your own eyes as internal shame begins to creep up his throat, suffocating him.

He doesn’t see the way your face drops or how you roll your eyes before grabbing one of the nice shampoos from Liyue off the counter (one he got especially for you). You place the container in his hand before grabbing a small bucket from the shower to wet his hair.

Diluc continues to remain silent as you begin to work through his thick fiery locks.

“Remember this?” The shampoo becomes his main focus as you grab it, holding it up before placing some of the substance in your hands. “You got it for me because the seller said it works great with thick hair,”

Must you remember that? Diluc all but turns red as embarrassment flushes his cheeks, he doesn’t need a reminder of how rotten he spoils you.

“We both have thick hair so we can share it, okay?” You place a kiss against his temple before bringing your hands up to his scalp, the immediate pleasure that your fingertips bring makes Diluc grip the edge of the tub. “You’re always so kind to me, but sometimes I want to spoil you.”

At this, Diluc finally meets your eyes and uncertainty swims in his bright iris.

Any fear in his heart is squashed by the love pooling in your own eyes.

“Won’t you let me?"

Kaeya A.

“Kaeya,”

In such a blissful state, being surrounded by hot water, Kaeya can only let out a hum of contentment at your lovely voice.

“Stop staring already.”

He has to tear his eyes away from your soft body, beautifully crafted by each of the archons, to meet your hard glare. The frown on your lips and stubborn furrow of your brows makes his heart skip a beat. There is nothing more that the cavalry captain loves than sharing a bath with you.

Even when you try to waterboard him by pouring a bucket of water over his head.

“Angel-” Kaeya sighs before moving his large body, too big for the tub, so that he can rest against your chest instead of staring at it. His fruitful efforts are followed by a splash as water escapes the edges of the tub and falls onto the marble floor.

“You’re cleaning that up,” You scold as your husband closes his eyes once again, resting his head against your shoulder. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to hide the shiver of pleasure that runs down his spine as your hands run over his shoulders. Your touch is gentle and delicate, lighting dancing across his smooth skin before dipping towards the front of his body. You tease him by sneakily running your fingertips along his chest, tracing random patterns solely to get a rise out of him.

Just when Kaeya opens his mouth to say something, to insinuate that you should further lowering your hands, you instead reach for his head. He doesn’t open his eyes but he hears the light pop of a bottle and the puff of air that comes from it as you squeeze the container. There’s a wet noise that comes with the way you rub your hands together, causing the shampoo to soap up before you bring your hands to his scalp.

Kaeya nearly moans at the feeling of your fingertips massaging the top of his head, he falls limp into your hold and completely relaxes into your touch.

“My star, I adore you,” He groans as your talented fingers continue to knead circles against the root of his hair. The delightful feeling of your lips against his ear graces him and nearly causes Kaeya to gasp.

“Mhm, I know,” The soft kiss you leave against his jaw makes his heart clench painfully, it’s as if the worship he dedicates to you is finally starting to show. If you understand this mere fraction of love he has for you then Kaeya will continue working to make sure you see it all in its glory.

Warm water runs over his face as you cup your hands and rinse the shampoo out of his hair. The suds fall all around him and Kaeya continues to keep his eyes closed until you finish. You reach for another bottle now and choose to condition the ends of his hair, forcing him to sit up in the tub after placing a kiss on the back of his neck. The man internally sighs.

Being pampered by you is something Kaeya will never take for granted.

Tighnari

Whenever Tighnari has to suffer the bitter fate of being separated from you, he promises his return with a gift. He likes to pick flowers that are native to the area he is exploring, flowers that match your beauty and ones that you will be sure to like. Oftentimes, he brings back pieces of nature with him but this time he decided to repurpose what he found for you.

Locals told him of the secrets that salt possesses, if combined with the right ingredients it could be turned into a substance used while soaking.

Tighnari knew you would love to try it.

He placed the pebbles in a wooden box and locked it for safekeeping until giving it to you. And just like he predicted, your face lit up upon sight of it.

“Oh, what is it?” The sweet aromatic scent grew heavier as you toyed with the tiny rocks against your fingers.

“Salt, it’s for the bath,” Tighnari can only watch as you immediately get up and head for your bathroom. Seconds after, he hears the sound of the faucet and the sweet call of his name.

“Come on, let’s take a bath together!” It doesn’t surprise the forest ranger to see your pants discarded on the floor, all that you’re left in is one of his shirts as you impatiently wait for the tub to fill up.

“Put a little bit of the salt in there,” Tighnari reaches around you to pick up a few of the pebbles and scatter them into the water. Not a second goes by before you mimic him and do the same. His large hand guides your own to sprinkle in more until he grabs the box and closes it. Tighnari places it on your counter before removing a few layers of his own clothing.

“I’m getting in now.” You don’t wait for him or for the water to finish rising before you get into the bathtub. The liquid sits just below your chest and you cup some of it with sincere fascination as you bring it up to your face. “It smells so good, Tighnari!”

He’s quick to join you and sits on the opposite end of the small space, making sure that you’re both facing each other.

“You brought more of the oils too, right?” At the chance of seeing such a hopeful look on your face, how could Tighnari not? “Thank you!” His nod causes you to squeal and at the sight of the tiny bottles, you lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose. It’s a sweet action that causes his ears to relax downward, folding over at the shower of your praise.

Tighnari only hopes his tail doesn’t create too much tension against the water as it thumps against your tub. The new feeling of your hands in his hair always makes the ranger happier than anything. He lives for your delicate touch, how your fingers comb through his hair and avoid his sensitive ears perfectly.

Although he’ll never say it, he adores having you wash his hair.

Xiao

“I can wash my own hair,” Xiao softly grumbles but, makes no effort to swat your hands away. He doesn’t move a single inch and continues to sit perfectly still while you continue to gently tug at his hair.

Sometime during his travels, Xiao came across a vacant hot spring and it quickly became one of his favorite spots in Liyue. Not because he enjoys the relaxation but for the sole reason of how your face lights up every time you step in the bath.

The chilly outside air pairs perfectly with the hot water and you make a point to sit on the stone outside of the tub to get the best of both features.

From where he rests in the water with his arms crossed over his chest, Xiao moves each time you tilt him back to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

“I think I’ll shampoo you twice today,” Your quiet hum makes Xiao slowly open one of his eyes as he turns to look at you. His subtle side-eye makes you laugh. “your hair is thick and I want to make sure it’s all clean.”

All it takes is a simple peck against his cheek to get Xiao to tilt his head back and give you full reigns to his scalp. Right now, it would be a waste for the adeptus to not look at the open night sky. His dim eyes look over the stars, connecting each one while your presence calms the ongoing torture within his soul. When you’re near, not even the most powerful presence of his karmic debt could bother him.

“Tilt,” You place your fingers under his jaw to lean his head back and rinse his hair once again. Xiao waits patiently to finish before he stands up from the hot spring and sits beside you on the stone. “wait, I’m not done yet.”

“You’re not?” Xiao watches curiously as you grab another bottle from your bag, like before, you place the substance in your hands before distributing the product along your fingers. You reach up and lather the ends of Xiao’s hair, focusing on the two long strands framing his face. After, you grab a comb.

The assortment of toiletries you brought tonight makes Xiao want to laugh.

“I have to condition your hair,” Your voice is soft as you concentrate on combing his hair and once you’re happy with the results, you rinse off your hands and slide back into the hot water. “now we wait.” There’s a content look on your face as you place your head in his lap and stare up at the night sky.

Well, you would be looking at the starry sky if not for the adeptus looking over you.

“Wait for what?” Xiao stares intently down at you as some of his conditioner falls in droplets against your face. You immediately reach up and push his head away so that he sits up straight.

“We have to wait for the conditioner to condition before I can rinse it out.”

Xiao just softly sighs, he couldn’t understand you even if he wanted to.

#diluc ragnvindr x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #tighnari x reader #xiao x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #tighnari x you #xiao x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n

3K notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

andar conmigo ~ epilogue

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: FLUFF chapter map

Author's Note: I just want to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who followed along and supported this story! Girl Genius @scarlettspectra who helped me with the original idea, my utterly beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff , the SWEETEST @sweetwolfcupcake (who fried my brain with that gif of Paul, thank u! 😘 , the always RAZOR sharp @discoscoob, the hilarious @lilithlinen , the insightful @reallongwire , emoji queen @thesecretlifeofmo , 🖤 @lonelyspadez and SO many others, I wouldn't have finished this without you, it wouldn't have been as much fun, and it CERTAINLY wouldn't be the fic it is without your amazing input!

-You’re going to have to rewrite the train station scene in your story, because you take him with you at the platform, and you are smart enough not to let go.

At first, you stay together in your tiny apartment with its fetching view of a brick wall. The arrangement was fine, if not a little cramped. You spend most of your time in bed, anyway, but you find you don’t mind sharing your space with Paul, or your cooking, or your time. Goddammit if Anjelica wasn’t right about that.

But maybe he knows you better than you know yourself.

Without you needing to ask, [and you’re not sure you even would have, truth be told], he eventually gets his own place. Yet, you are still inseparable, barring the hours you go to work, and he goes to school.

You find that you are equally happy to have your own space back, yet unbearably restless for the next time you will get to see him. It is a strange medley to balance in your life, and a part of you hopes that someday maybe you really will score that apartment with enough room for the two of you, and a typewriter overlooking the Bay.

On the odd days you do not see each other, he writes you a letter, and you always write him back.

As it turns out, Paul Sutton likes things that go, and he enrolls to study engines at a technical college in San Francisco.

The day he roars up to your apartment in a leather jacket on a Norton motorcycle with a big grin, you cannot help but laugh. It seems like a ridiculous machine, and yet after the first time he takes you for a ride–it becomes one of your favorite things to do with him. You tear up and down the coast in your free time, picnicking at the beach or beneath towering sequoia trees.

You have both healed from your misadventure, withstanding the occasional cough, or the odd nightmare...on a whole, your life together is so sweet, and the irony does not escape you that on more than one occasion you have to restrain yourself from asking him to marry you. But Paul is starting to find himself, given time in which he’s not running between raindrops, enemy fire, or immediately jumping into the responsibility of supporting a wife and children.

He does not always take you on his motorcycle trips, often going on long rides to clear his head. He says it helps ease his mind, when his memories from the war become too loud in his head.

Most of the time though, he seems content, and you are so happy for that.

-The first time after he dropped into your office at the publishing house to bring you flowers, just because, bless that man, your boss asks, “So that’s Peter?”

“No, that’s Paul,” you tease him, aware that your beau’s good looks have a certain effect upon both sexes, no matter their preferences.

You’d let your superior read your manuscript of your book, after catching you working on it at your desk during a break. You decided to title it, “A Walk in the Clouds.” You’re not getting your hopes up, as he hems and haws over it. He keeps proposing changes to the story that would be untenable to you, as well as writing under a man’s pen name, or a less Spanish-sounding surname, in the interest of appealing to a broader audience. Maybe someday, you’ll find an agent who will champion your vision, and a publisher who won’t hold it against you that you are an intelligent self-taught Hispanic woman with opinions that challenge the conformity of post-War America.

Maybe someday, things will be better…

Until then, you’ll just have to keep writing.

-A year later, the two of you are out to lunch at a North Beach café, when a slick-looking man in a dapper suit passes by your table, then does a double-take at Paul, who was engaged mid-bite with his open mouth over a fork full of pasta.

“Hey kid,” he says. “Ever thought of being in movies?”

Taken aback, Paul wipes his lips with his napkin, regarding the man quizzically. “Ah…no, never occurred to me,” he admits to the stranger with a quizzical lift of eyebrows.

“You got the look. Call me.” The Hollywood man flips a card onto the table, then strolls off like he has somewhere important to be.

Paul looks at you, then laughs, shaking his head as he looks at the card. He is so humble about his dashing good looks, finding it embarrassing when women slow down to ogle him on the street, (or in one amusing case–to you at least– trip over the sidewalk).

“How silly,” he says with a little smile, tearing off a piece of bread. He’s playing it down, but you think you see a glitter of intrigue in those polished ebony eyes.

You shrug. “Who knows?” you say playfully. “You’re certainly the best-looking man I know.”

After all this time, his cheeks still pink for you, his ears turning red at the tips.

“Well, that’s all that matters to me,” he tells you, reaching across the table for your hand. You slide your fingers into his, so happy you could die.

Afterwards you go for a stroll, hand in hand, looking in the windows of the shops and laughing together, your head on his shoulder.

It’s hard to imagine that life could get much sweeter than this. Deep down, a tiny, selfish part of you hopes he doesn’t call that Hollywood headhunter. How drastically would your life with him change, if he became a star on the silver screen?

That’s when you know you absolutely believe he’s got what it takes–and you beat back your ugly little fears, resolving that you won’t stand in his way, if he wants to try for it.

You realize you’re squeezing his hand too hard when he looks down at you with a question in his eyes. “Sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head for a kiss.

He grants your request, and his soft lips on yours still curl your toes. He rests his forehead against yours with that little smile, just for you…and your fears go quiet, replaced by the soft glow this man always inspires in you.

“Just in case you didn’t know…I would marry you in a heartbeat, if you ever change your mind about all that.”

You blink, your heart a sparkling firework trapped in your chest.

You have to try twice before you can find your voice.

“I think…I would like that, Paul Sutton.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs out loud, that beautiful sound that fuels you as surely as food or drink or air. He picks you up right in the middle of the sidewalk, spinning you around in a circle before his lips find yours again.

Suddenly, you’re not worried about anything.

-Paul drops you off at your apartment after a lingering kiss before rumbling off on the Norton. He has to study up for a test on Monday, and you’ve found when you try to help him with his studies more often than not you just end up in bed together.

There are worse things, but this is an important exam. You’re sure he’ll pass with flying colors, then you can reward him properly.

You practically skip up the stairs, still giddy from earlier. Are you and Paul actually engaged? Promised to be engaged? Merely in talks? You’re not really sure, but it doesn’t matter. You’re together, and you feel like you have all the time in the world to figure it out. The whole country is in such a hurry now that the war has ended, but the two of you have learned you don’t mind taking your time.

You almost step on a little lump of something left before your door. Puzzled, you pick it up. It reminds you of the handmade little ragdolls you and your sisters used to play with, made of cloth and thread and horse hair.

But this toy is burned, half her hair singed away, her blackened face pulled in a terrible grimace.

With a frown you lay it back to rest on the floor beside your door.

Maybe the neighbor’s girl down the hall dropped her toy. She might want it back. If it’s still there tomorrow…you’ll throw it out.

Your earlier elation dampered by a weird feeling weighing in your gut, you let yourself into your apartment, and go about the rest of your day.

Yet as you sit down with your notebook and a cup of tea to warm the chill inside you, you cannot stop thinking about it.

There’s no way in Hell that terrible man survived that fire…

Is there?

The End…

Or is it?👀

49 notes · View notes

doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou · 1 year

Text

What A Sad Sight

Her (Part 2)

> larissa weems x fem!reader

> requested? no

> content/warnings: angst, self-pity

a/n: after a month of listening to Taylor Swift songs i finally did it! i thought of this fic while in the shower lol. If you want to, you can listen to right where you left me. Another, Andy is played by Charlize Theron. idk, i just like The Old Guard

“Are you sure? You really want to buy that crappy coffee shop?”

Jolting up from your daydream, You looked at Andy innocently. “Hmm? What'd you say?”

“I asked if you really want to buy the Weathervane?”

Giving Andy an incredulous look, you spun in your chair. “Why of course! Larissa loves that café!”

Narrowing her eyes at her boss, Andy decided to cut the conversation short and leave. Yet, before closing the door, Andy turned around. “Are you sure sure?”

You gave Andy an assuring smile. “As sure as I am wanting to marry Larissa.”

Sighing, Andy closed the door and whispered. “Is she though?”

— — —

You sat at the booth you and Larissa first met, where she introduced herself, where you spilled your drink after getting shocked at the beautiful intruder in front of you.

Today was busy, as usual. After buying the Weathervane, you immediately got people to do some renovation to make the atmosphere more like yourself. Of course that didn't mean that you would fire the staff, no you wouldn't. Yet you did want a change in the aesthetics of their uniform, you thought brown didn't accentuate the calmness of the café.

Your thoughts were cut off as the jingling of the bell came, notifying you that a certain tall blonde was now walking towards you. As she sat down, your nerves skyrocketed and suddenly your palms became sweaty.

“Darling, are you okay?” Came from her as she gave you a concerned look. Larissa wasn't a mind-reader, yet she didn't need to be to know you were nervous. That made her nervous as well.

Wiping your hands on your pants, you gave her a reassuring smile. It's now or never. “Yes dear, I'm quite fine. Uh– would you like a drink? I can go get Ty–”

“That won't be necessary, Y/N. I just ate before coming here.” She leant towards you and took your hand in hers.

Chuckling nervously, you gave her hand a squeeze and sighed. “Darling, you know that I love you, right?” Larissa nodded, your affection could be seen by anyone a mile away. You were quite taken with her, the students even started teasing you whenever they would see you with a bouquet of flowers for her.

“Larissa, I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now. We met each other here at the Weathervane two years ago, and after that it's been a bliss with you in my life. You constantly bring me joy whenever I see you. And I want you to know that I appreciate everything you do for me–”

“No.”

Your eyes widened at her interruption. You couldn't believe it, no, you wouldn't believe it. This day was supposed to go smoothly, she was supposed to say yes. You didn't make a plan had she said no, except maybe wallow in self-pity.

She noticed your silence and locked eyes with you. Seeing your glistening eyes, it broke her heart but she had to do it. She had to. Deciding to end your misery, she stood up and left.

You didn't even notice her leave, instead you let your tears fall as you stared at the seat in front of you. You replayed every moment you've been together, trying to find something, anything that would lead to this. Yet all you could think was your second conversation at the very same booth. How she still longed for her friend. How she longed that she chose her instead of her husband.

You decided to leave after hearing a couple whisper, “What a sad sight.”

— — —

“You okay?” From the moment you walked inside your office like a zombie, Andy was there. She saw how you carried yourself to be strong for anyone to not say anything, yet as you closed your office door, you broke. Something in Andy broke as well when she saw you in that state.

“No.”

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader #wednesday

161 notes · View notes

elficially-done-with-life · 9 months

Text

Caring For You

Pairing: Lindir x reader

Summary: Lindir is embarrassed because he sings out of tune and seeks you out for comfort.

Warnings: sexual content (Lindir with a mommy kink)

A/N: I used the word Nana which, if I am not mistaken, is the word for mother/mommy in sindarin.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lindir always sought you out when everything became too much for him.

You looked after the flowers in the garden of Imladris and were therefore mostly outside.

When you saw Lindir during your working hours, it was usually in the company of Elrond, which is why it always worried you when he came without him.

On this day, however, you were extremely worried. Not only did he hurry towards you alone, but he also had a look on his face that broke your heart. Your Lindir looked like he was about to burst into tears.

When he reached you, you didn't hesitate to pull him tightly into your arms. As soon as you had him pressed against you, he let out a quiet sob.

"Shhh," you said softly as you stroked his back with your hand. "What is troubling you, Meleth?"

"Lord Elrond asked me to sing for him and his guests at dinner. It was an honour, only I sang out of tune. "He buried his face in your shoulder, "Everyone, except Elrond, laughed. He finally silenced them, but I just ran away- I was to ashamed to stay longer."

You nodded. "And that is okay. If you are not comfortable, you should not stay." you whispered softly. "My dear Lindir, you did nothing wrong. The others are idiots. None of them can sing as well as my lovely husband."

But he only buried his face deeper into your shoulder.

"Come on," you whispered gently, breaking away from him a little, "let us go to our rooms for today."

He nodded slightly as you gently took his hand and pulled him with you.

Once in your room, you laid Lindir on his back on the bed while you cuddled up next to him and began to stroke his hair and look gently into his eyes. "My dear, sweet Lindir," you whispered softly and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sure it is all right."

But his eyes wandered to the side and away from yours. Worried, you stroked his cheek. "What is wrong? What do you need?"

His cheeks turned red and you knew immediately what he was going to say. "Nana?"

"Do you want Nana to take care of you?" you asked gently and gave him another kiss on the forehead while he nodded weakly. "Nana will make sure that everything will be fine," you whispered.

You gently ran your hand through his soft hair, your fingertips grazing his scalp and he trembled beneath your touch. Lindir let out a soft whimper, his eyes filled with a vulnerability that he only showed when you two were alone.

You leaned in closer, your lips a breath away from his. Your breath mingled with his. You could feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.

"Nana is going to make you feel better," you whispered softly, your voice filled with tenderness. He nodded, his cheeks still bright red. He was obviously unable to say anything.

You leaned in closer, your lips finally meeting his in a sweet and tender kiss. His lips were soft and warm, a perfect fit against your own.

As you deepened the kiss, you could feel the tension building within you.

Your hands roamed across his body, caressing his smooth skin. His breath hitched as your fingertips traced along his inner thigh, making him shiver.

You pulled away, your gaze locked with his. You could see the need burning in his eyes, his need for you to take care of him.

You leaned in again, this time trailing soft kisses down his neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Nana." he softly moaned.

His soft whimpers became more frequent, as he sought your touch. With every brush of your fingers, the whimpers grew more desperate.

You reached down, your hands finding their way beneath his clothing. You carefully teased him, your fingertips tracing the outline of his arousal. He let out a soft gasp, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. His face was so heated, that there was no spot that wasn't red left.

As you slowly stroked him, he arched his back, pressing himself closer to you. His grip on your robes tightend, his fingers trying desperately to hold on to you.

You leaned in, your lips once again met Lindirs and stifled another whimper that escaped his mouth.

As you continued to move you hand, his whimpers turned into loud groans, his breathing becoming erratic.

Finally, Lindir reached his peak, his body tensing and shaking with pleasure. You watched his face, his eyes filled with pleasure. His voice turned into cries of pleasure, as his release washed over him.

"Nana!" he softly gasped.

You held him close, his soft body pressed against yours.

"Did I do well, Nana?" he asked, still out of breath. His eyes were only half open.

You stroked his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. "My perfect boy, of course you did a good job. Nana is really proud of you."

Lindir sighed relaxed, closed his eyes and lost himself in your warmth.

#lindir x reader fic #tolkien x reader #x reader #tolkien #elves x reader #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #lindir x reader smut #lindir x reader #lindir

109 notes · View notes

katasstrophic-arts · 1 year

Text

In Bloom pt. 2

Sebastian x F!Farmer

pt. 1

Content - angst comfort, fluff, pregnancy, unnamed farmer, no y/n, Mild sexual topics

1.8k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, after the sun has set you and Sebastian head to leave the Flower Dance. The both of you are promptly swarmed by people giving you their last congratulations of the day and asking some final questions. You’re happy to talk to everyone and answer with a smile but then questions begin to get more long term and topics you haven’t discussed with Sebastian yet. “Do you plan to use disposable or cloth diapers?”, “How do you plan to handle late night baby shifts?”, “Will you start a scrapbook?”, “How comfortable will you be with the baby around the farm animals and pets?”, “Do you want to have more children?”

Sebastian leaves most of the questions to you and nods along to your vague answers. But now he can tell exhaustion is starting to set in for you. He shoos away any more questions and ushers you back to the farm.

When you enter the house you take a vibrant purple and white flower out of the crown on your head and press it in a book in your living room. You make a mental note when you see Sebastian pass you carrying his laptop when you go to enter the bedroom. Finally in your sanctuary you shuck off the stuffy shoes and dress from the event. You perform your nightly routine and put on some comfy shorts and one of Sebastian’s shirts. As you’re about to climb into bed you realize Sebastian hasn’t come back into your shared bedroom. It’s only around 10 o’clock and Sebastian has been known to stay up late into the night, but town festivals usually prompt him to go to bed immediately afterwards.

You walk back into the living room to find your husband sitting on the couch. He has already removed his suit jacket but is still in his dress shirt and slacks, hunched over his laptop on the coffee table.

“Hun, what are you doing?” You ask.

“Oh, uhh. I’m just looking up some stuff.” He sheepishly replies to you. You look over his shoulder and see a page open for ‘Tips for Expecting Fathers’. “I wanted to find out what more I can do for you. I just feel so useless right now.”

Sebastian hasn’t been a helicopter spouse through your pregnancy so far. He trusts that you know your limits and will listen to Harvey’s orders. The only thing Sebastian has been insistent on has been not going into the mines and splitting the farm work. You still care for the animals, he helps you plant and water the crops, and you point out what is ready to harvest so he can collect them and put them in the shipping bin that Alex comes to collect each night.

Sitting down next to him you stroke his hair as he continues, “I mean, I’m paying attention at all the appointments with Harvey but it’s all advice for you. You’re growing a whole damn human and all I can do is bring you things and make sure you’re comfortable.”

Leaning into him you wrap your arms around his shoulders from the side, “Come to bed, love. Let’s talk tonight but we can do this later." You gesture to his laptop screen. He continues scrolling to a tip that recommends ‘General childbirth classes should be taken late second trimester to early third trimester’. “See, we have at least a month before we have to think about taking classes.”

Closing his laptop, he helps you stand and walks to the bedroom with you. You settle in bed as you watch him shed his formal attire. A heat begins to pool in you as more of his creamy, pale skin is revealed but you push it down, knowing that you need to have a serious conversation. After his nightly routine he hangs up the vibrant blue suit and flumps into his side of the bed in his boxers and an undershirt.

“How are you feeling now?” You prompt.

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. I guess a lot of it hadn’t really settled in yet. Everyone asking all those questions today made me realize how little I know.”

“Our decisions on how to raise them can be made later. And our opinions could change so we don’t have to lock anything down yet.” You try to reassure him.

“And like you said before this happened earlier than we planned. If this had gone to plan around now would be when we’d just be finding out you’re pregnant. I know that I love you and I want this baby, but becoming a father is… it’s just something new.” He takes a deep breath. “Now that everyone in town knows it’s really starting to hit me, and I have no idea what I’m doing.” He tenses and throws his arms up before reaching up to rub his face, stressed. “When Maru was born I was five but Demetrius didn’t let me do anything and it stayed that way. And I wasn’t really involved with Vincent until he was about 3, and that was just babysitting duty with Sam at the beach or the park. So right now I’m just trying my best to be supportive of you because I know this is taking a lot out of you.”

“And I really appreciate all you’re doing. Giving me massages and working in the fields while you still have your own projects.” You say, attempting to reassure him.

“I’ve been cutting back on the projects actually. My clients probably think I’m just going through another depressive episode.” He sits up in bed, his hands flying to his head as his eyes glaze in panic. “And I just read that fathers can also get postpartum depression! Oh Yoba! What if I…”

“Hey, hey! You won’t.” You reassure him, slowly sitting up next to him and carding your fingers into his hair, a trick that usually calms him down. “And if it does happen we’ll figure it out together. We’re doing this together. Always remember that.”

You mentally kick yourself for not seeing all these troubles have been building in his mind. Sebastian has always found your emotions easy to read but he still keeps his cards close to his chest. It usually comes out in evening conversations like this one but this spring has been very busy and you’ve been so tired by the end of the day that you haven’t been able to have them lately. Your stomach is doing flops, regretful to see your husband in such a state but… Hang on… You quickly grab his hand and place it on your stomach.

There it is, the light fluttering you’ve been feeling lately. Sebastian finally looks at you, his eyes grow wide and his face changes from panic to shock to awe. “Thats…”

“Our baby.” You say resolutely. The movements continue and you smile lovingly at your husband, whose gaze is now firmly locked on your belly. “They’ve never moved this much. They must like your voice.”

Sebastian continues stroking your belly as the fluttering comes to an end. “Hey there. Nice to finally meet you. I’m your Papa.”

“Papa?”

“Thought I’d try it out.” He leans in and gives you a tender kiss. Laying you both back down facing each other he continues to roam your body with his hands. “Yoba, I love you. Both of you. So, so much.”

“And we love you too.” You share a warm smile with him. Placing your hand on his over your bump.

“I know I’ve heard their heartbeat at the clinic and seen you growing but this is…” Sebastian closes his eyes and soaks in this moment of adoration. “I swear I’m gonna put in more effort. The farm work felt inevitable just from living here and of course I want my wife to be comfortable so I don’t mind giving you massages.” He locks eyes with you unshaking. “But I’m gonna put in the real work. I’ll pound on Pierre’s door at any hour until he lets me in to get whatever you’re craving. I’ll help my mom build the nursery. I’ll cook you meals according to Harvey’s dietary plans and finally remember to leave out the coffee.” Tears start spilling over your eyes through his proclamations. “And I’ll hold you close through all your mood swings.”

He does just that and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his body. One of your hands moves around his waist while the other goes to your face to try and stifle your tears. Yet all of the emotions from today start to settle in and you are fully sobbing now. Sebastian places a kiss on top of your head that’s now resting against his chest before speaking in a hushed tone into your hair. “What’s on your mind, love. Talk to me.”

Through your sniffles you manage to say “Everyone is just so supportive and nice.”

“What did you expect? You’ve been the same to all of them since the day you moved here.”

Finally getting your tears under control. “It’s just… I’m so happy I moved here. That I met you and everyone in the valley.”

“I don’t know how I ever got you to fall for a schmuck like me.” Sebastian quips.

“Because under that edgy loner persona you really are a thoughtful, caring person.” You pull back to look into his eyes. “You learned to play the keyboard when Sam wanted to start the band. When you used to smoke by the lake you would bring an ashtray so the ashes wouldn’t get in the water. You rescued an injured frog and built a whole terrarium for them so you could nurse them back to health.” Sebastian looks away sheepishly through your praise of him, a light blush covers his nose and cheeks. “And you’ve done your best to quit smoking since we got married because you wanted to live a long life with me.” Your hand moves to your stomach again. “With us.”

Sebastian’s blush deepens “The valley used to feel so drab and meaningless, but you brought light here for me again. I often felt unappreciated at home… but I really feel like I belong here with you.”

The fluttering begins in your belly again, you both look down to where your bodies are pressed against one another. Sebastian somehow manages to pull you tighter against him

He continues. “To be honest, I never thought I'd end up in this situation… Married and a kid on the way. Now that I'm here, I like it… With you I'm excited about the future again. Thank you for giving me a family of my own and making me feel welcome in the valley.”

The two of you stay like that for a while, holding each other close and trading compliments. Both of you hoping to feel the movement in your belly again. Eventually you resign that it won’t be happening again tonight and let yourself fall into sleep.

You dream of the Flower Dance. However this time you’re not dancing with your husband but with a small unknown child with dark hair and your smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: I am so so sorry this took so long to get out. I swear this was 80% written when I posted pt. 1 but life gets in the way.

I did an unnecessary amount of research on pregnancy while writing this. My housemate would be so concerned if she saw my search history…

#kats writes #stardew valley #stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley fanfic #stardew sebastian fanfic #sdv sebastian fanfic #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian x farmer #stardew sebastian x reader #female farmer

236 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year

Text

chapter 8 - renegade (b.r.b.)

a/n: chapter 7 flopped so here’s to hoping chapter 8 doesn’t as we near the end of this story

summary: Bradley is confronted with the aftermath of his decision and Sunshine gets unexpected advice from an even more unexpected father figure.

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | flight risk masterlist | ch. 7 - discussions, decisions, and divorces (oh my!) | ch. 9 - i know it won’t work

folks who wanted to be tagged: @justanothermagicalsara @fangirl-316 @herladyshipxx @parker-natasha @myhomeworksnotdone @pulisvertz @lass-that-is-gone @frenchtoastix @coco-loco-nut @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @torresbarnes @supernaturaldawning @you-had-me-at-dead-welsh-kings @katiemcrae @gretagerwigsmuse @the-winter-marvel33 @some-lovely-day @unordinare @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @annedub @hope-love-equality2 @coyotesamachado @hopefulinlove @mak-32 @daisyhollyxox @loveforaugust @earth-to-lottie @sometimesanalice @cheezit-bradshawseresin @none-of-your-bullshit @jstarr86 @caatheeriinee07 @galacticstxrdust @anony1080 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @sammyrenae68 @redbarn1995

warnings: alcohol mentions, swearing, insecurities, semi-cliffhanger, it’s angsty, Sunshine needed her own heart to heart

word count: 1.9k

“are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?/and let all your damage damage me?/and carry your baggage up my street?/and make me your future history?”

You groan, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes as you lean over on the metal bench.

You must look ridiculous, you think to yourself.

Tucked away in a corner of San Diego State University’s massive campus, you felt like a fish out of water.

You’d always wanted to come see the campus, especially with Bradley living in the immediate neighborhood, but had never been able to come up with a decent enough reason to actually visit.

It was a pretty campus, old Spanish style buildings with the special tile roofs that always adorned the building style, flower bushes and trees shading the sunny campus. It reminded you a lot of the trip you and Bradley had taken to Balboa Park once for food trucks early on in your visit here and you could see why so many students flocked to this campus.

Turns out, the campus was also good for giving you a place to cry in peace after fleeing from your fake-husband after he contested the divorce for your fake-marriage.

You pull your hands away from your eyes, glancing at the time on your phone. You take a shaky breath, realizing that you can’t sit here and feel sorry for yourself for much longer, not if you want to make your flight and get the hell out of San Diego.

Your head throbs from the morning spent crying as you stand up from the bench, navigating back the way you came as you walk in the direction of Bradley’s house.

Your mind still feels fuzzy as you turn the corner on to Bradley’s street, no clear indication of what you should do.

You’d never fought with Bradley, never once in the decade you’d known him. You didn’t know how to be angry with him, much less at odds with him.

Because underneath it all, you were angry at yourself. Angry for getting attached, for failing in love with someone you knew you couldn’t have.

Except- you could have him. He had tried-

No.

You stamp out the spark of hope alighting in you.

Bradley Bradshaw had had more than a whole decade to confess how he felt about you and if it took a near-death experience for him to-

You pause, doing a double-take at the car in the driveway. You glance to the front door, teeth coming to worry at your bottom lip.

With a sinking stomach, you tread the last few feet up to the front door, pushing it open slowly.

It’s unlocked, you note, as you step through the entrance, walking the few feet into the living room.

And there he stands, looking at the photo of Bradley at his graduation from UVA.

The one you had taken all those years ago, when life didn’t seem so complicated, when you forced yourself to be content with friendship with Bradley because you were sure it was all that would ever be offered to you.

He glances over at the sound of the front door closing as you stand there nervously, hands coming to clasp together in front of you. He offers you a warm smile, taking a step back back from the picture.

“Admiral Kazansky, I uh- what are you doing here?”

His locker slams shut in front of him, only pulling his fingers back with just enough time before they got crushed by the metal. He glances over at the brunette standing next to him, looking by all accounts, thoroughly pissed.

“What the fuck Bradshaw?” She hisses. He glances up at his squadron, bewildered as they all look on with varying mixes of confusion.

“What’d I do?”

“What’d I do? He asks!” She throws her hands up in the air. “You know what you did Bradshaw!”

He blinks, staring at her. “Nat, I’m lost.”

She huffs. “You’re a moron.”

He blinks again. “Can I be clued into why you’re insulting me or are you just going to keep yelling at me? I’ve kind of already had a shit morning Nat, so I’m not really in the mood for this.

She narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“Lieutenant Trace, this isn’t your locker room.” They both turn, seeing Maverick’s figure. He jerks his head to the doors, to which she sighs.

“This isn’t over yet Bradshaw, mark my words.” She whispers, before turning on her heel and heading for the doors.

“Uh, Lieutenant Bradshaw-” Maverick pauses as he tugs the black shirt over his head. “Why are you here?”

“Because this is my job?”

Maverick sighs. “My office, please Lieutenant.”

He huffs, stepping over the bench. The short walk to Maverick’s office is quiet and Maverick shuts the door behind him with a sigh.

“Bradley, if- if you want to take some time for yourself, Cyclone and I- we would understand.”

“I’m fine sir.”

Maverick fixes him with a pointed look. “Cut the crap, Bradley. You signed divorce papers this morning. You’re allowed to not be okay right now.”

He shrugs, eyes drifting up to one of the plaques on the wall.

The plaque from the mission.

“Bradley.”

“I don’t know that I am, sir. Allowed to not be okay.”

Maverick sighs, moving from where he’s standing behind his desk to in front of it, stepping right into his point of view.

“Go home, kid. Take some time for yourself.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Sunshine wants to see me right now. I’d probably be chased out of my own home.”

A confused look crosses over Maverick’s face. “Why?” He shakes his head, pointing to the extra chairs in the office. “Here kid, sit down. Talk to me. What happened?”

He sighs as he sits, leaning over to rest his forearms on his knees. “I did something so stupid, Mav. It cost me her.”

“Kid, what did you do? Tell me what happened?”

He sighs, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. “Last night, I tried- I tried to tell her that I loved her. She wouldn’t hear it, completely shut me down. Told me I was projecting my unresolved trauma and mid-life crisis on to her. And I just- I panicked. I just wanted to keep her.”

Maverick reaches a hand out to rub his shoulder sympathetically. “So this morning?”

He takes a shaky breath, lifting his head to face his godfather. “So this morning, I- I was gonna do it I swear.” His voice cracks on the last word, making him blow out a breath in a pitiful attempt to calm down. “But I- I just looked at her and realized I couldn't lose her.” He pauses, hot tears stinging at his eyes.

“Mav, I contested the divorce.”

“Maverick texted me. Told me what Bradley did.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Okay, so I’m still not following why you’re here. Sir.”

Tom waves a hand, letting out a laugh. “Please, you aren’t a pilot. We aren’t on a Naval base. Brad married you, please don’t call me sir.”

You nod, nerves still thrumming through you. “Okay.” You bite back the sir that’s threatened to follow just barely, earning an eyebrow raise from Tom.

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

You shrug. “I’ve been better.”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Bradley’s a idiot. No offense.”

Tom lets out another little laugh. “He isn’t the brightest sometimes, yeah.”

“He just- he doesn’t fucking listen.”

Tom hums. “He never really has been the best listener.”

It’s silent for a moment as Tom takes a few steps closer to you and then he sighs.

“You’re better than what Brad deserves, that’s for sure.”

You cautiously raise your head from the hole it’s burning into the floor, frown forming on your face. “I don’t-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “You are. Not very many people would do what you’ve done for him.”

You give a half-shrug, feeling your throat close up. “He was my friend.”

“Was or is?”

“I- I don’t know anymore.”

Tom lets out a breath through his teeth. “Look kid, none of us will really blame you if you run as far away from him as possible. Lord knows he deserves it. But he’ll never find someone like you. You’re it for him. He just- he loves you so much. I’ve known it since the day I met you.”

You swallow. “Thought you didn’t like me very much. Kind of failed at the whole first impression thing.”

“His love for you is the only thing that ever made me take pause and wonder if I was wrong. You’re a great girl, but I mean it when I say that you’re better than what Brad deserves. I had my doubts, but never about you.” He sighs, resting one of his hands on your shoulder. “I saw how Brad iced out Maverick for a decade. I saw what he was like when he was volatile and vulnerable. I had my doubts that he would let someone like you see those sides of him and stick around. But I’ve also seen Brad at his most loving and he does love you, he really does. He just wants you to let him love you.”

You give another half-shrug, eyes flickering away from the old man’s face. “I’m not good at this, you know? My parents hated each other. Hated me. I’ve only ever managed to date men who use me and treat me like the dirt beneath their feet and I just- I don’t know how to do all of this.”

You take a step back from him as you shake your head, a tear slipping down your face. “You say that I’m better than what Bradley deserves but the truth is, he’s better than what I deserve. He’s so kind and funny and he’d do anything for his friends that I just-”

You break down into tears once more.

“I’m not angry at him. I’m angry at myself for falling for him. I’m angry that allowed myself to put myself in this position when I knew it ended with me getting hurt.”

“But it doesn’t have to end that way, with you getting hurt.”

“How could it not?”

“Bradshaw, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at home, trying to fix things with your wife?”

He sighs, taking a long draw from his beer before swinging his head to greet his best friend. “Good to see you too Phoenix.”

She sighs, shaking her head. “You’ve fucked up.”

He fiddles with a peanut, attempting to break the shell open. It’s a difficult process, the shell unwilling to budge and finally he sighs, setting it down on the bartop. “Phoenix, what do you want me to say? I know I’ve fucked up. I’ve maybe lost her forever, but- I had to try.”

She looks at him for a minute before sighing, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Go home Rooster.”

He shakes his head, eyes downcast on the wooden bartop. “She’s gone. Her flight left this afternoon. and I can’t- I can’t go back to that house, knowing it’s empty. I had her and I lost her.”

The car idles in the driveway.

He’s not sure what time it is, having lost track between when he left the Hard Deck and drove around aimlessly, avoiding going back to a home full of ghosts.

But now, he’s even more anxious as his fingertips tap against the steering wheel.

The porch light is on.

The porch light shouldn’t be on, not if you left this afternoon like you were supposed.

Why is the porch light on?

He’d almost be afraid to find out if it wasn’t for the hope suddenly coursing through him.

Did- did you stay?

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #flight risk

150 notes · View notes