#i was like ‘hello there :) can i help’ and he said ‘hi do you do espresso?’ and i was like ‘we absolutely do; is that a single or a double

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)

Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.

“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.

“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.

He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.

Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.

You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?

The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.

“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.

“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.

He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.

When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”

But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.

“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”

[lnfours]

Hi baby! Saw you need some inspiration and I thought, do you know the early stages of dating? Like, you are getting to know the person and there are aspects you don't expect and surprise you and I imagined the first time reader realises how much clingy Lando can be and it's just cute and lovey dovey 🥺 maybe he is sick or something and turns into a giant baby

hello, my love!!! 🥹 it's been a while, i missed you sm!!! i hope you're doing well! <3

also, i can totally see lando turning into a big baby when he's sick, and even when he isn't 😁

blurb day to cure my writers block

it was early morning when lando's name lit up your phone, a soft buzz following his text. you knew he landed late last night and when you called him just before bed he sounded a bit nasally, almost like he was catching a cold.

sure enough, the text you read on the screen confirmed your suspicions.

would you kill me if i asked to reschedule our lunch date? i'm feeling like i got hit by a bus 😩

you immediately texted him back, fingers typing quickly on the screen.

not at all! do you need anything? i can stop at the store and come by, maybe make some soup if you're feeling up to it ❤️

he felt guilty for canceling the date you two had planned out before he left, especially because he had been away for weeks. his head was pounding and his sinuses were all stuffed up, but as he read your message back to him, he couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face. the sweet words making his heart jump up to his throat.

depends, does the chef also provide cuddles upon request? 🤔

i'm sure they'd be able to make special accommodations, just for you 😌

oh, he was on cloud nine...

lovely, see you soon? ❤️

see you soon ❤️

you threw on the first pair of sweatpants and hoodie you could find before grabbing your things and rushing out the door, making your way to the store. after browsing the medicine isle for all different kinds of treatments and debating on wether or not to splurge for the extra strength medicine, which you did, you grabbed the ingredients to make the soup. the same recipe your mom used to make for you whenever you were feeling under the weather, the one that worked like a charm.

and shortly after, you were knocking on the door to his apartment. smiling sympathetically when he opened the door with tired eyes and a small smile, the hood of his black hoodie pulled over the mess of brown curls. he looked tired, and he definitely looked sick.

"'ve got every medicine i could find," you said, pulling all the packages out from the bag and placing them onto the counter, "and the ingredients for the soup my mom used to make."

he sat in the stool at the kitchen island, head resting on his hand as he watched you open one of the packets of pills. you popped one out of it's foil casing, turning around and grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water before sliding them towards him, "here, this should help with the head and stuffy nose."

he nodded, taking the pills before reaching out to you now that you were in arms length. you let him pull you closer, slightly giggling and wrapping your arms around him as his head rested on your stomach.

you had heard that men were big babies whenever they were sick, but with lando it seemed... different. almost like he had been hiding the fact that he enjoyed cuddling into you, not wanting to scare you off in the beginning stages of your relationship.

but you didn't mind, not one bit. you liked this, and you would've stayed like this for the rest of the day if you didn't have a recipe to start.

his words were muffled into your sweatshirt as he softly spoke, voice gravely, "thank you."

you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his hoodie-clad head, "'course,"

he picked his head up and you were met with the same grey-green eyes you were met with at the door, this time they screamed sleep deprived. you tucked the curls back underneath the hood, "wanna go lay on the couch while i start this? i'll join you when 'm done,"

he nodded, moving slowly towards the couch before flopping down, grabbing the blanket from the back panels and getting comfortable. he flipped the tv on as you tried your best not to be loud with the pots and pans, cautious of his pounding head.

and when the soup was finally at the stage where it had to be left to boil for hours, you made your way into the living room. you smiled softly at his cheek pressed against the couch cushion, eyes closed as he finally drifted off to sleep. you carefully joined him on the couch, stirring him awake shortly as he pulled you closer, legs intertwining with yours and his head falling to your chest.

the moment you realized you were slowly, but surely, falling in love with him. willing to do anything and everything for him as long as he was yours.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Nanami x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, panic attacks, cheating on both ends, cruelty from Duke Gojo. OOC. ANGST. Say hello to Mr. Nanami hehe. Gojo is TERRIBLE still, you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 7.8k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

♔Part Two - ♔ Playlist ♔ Masterlist

Part Three

The next day, you had your Nanny help you dress into a simple blue dress that hugged your curves just right, but wasn’t too revealing. You had your hair up in a neat bun, with little ringlets framing your face, along with a little bonnet that has a pretty blue ribbon wrapped around under your chin.

“You look stunning, Lady Gojo.” She says softly, and you smile at her in the mirror.

“Thank you, Nan. I feel more… determined this morning. I shall have a good day, no matter what.” You say with a little smile, and she hugs you tight, you hesitantly head down the grand, winding staircase, and when you turn toward the door you bump right into Satoru’s hard body.

“Oof!” You nearly fall, but for some reason he catches you, his arm wrapping your waist before you careen on your backside. You gasp, looking up at him then, and his face is soft for just a moment as he holds you, as he looks at your face carefully, then lower. “I’m so clumsy. I’m sorry.”

He eases you to stand, adjusting his own blue suit that he is wearing, along with a brocade vest and elegantly tied cravat. His trousers are clinging to his well formed thighs, along with a glimmering pair of hessian boots. You may despise him but the man clearly dresses impeccably, something you also do, though he’d likely never admit such things.

“You are quite clumsy indeed. Off to town?” He asks, he’s brushing himself off as if to get the touch of you away. You nod nervously, looking down a bit, fiddling with the lace on your dress.

“I am indeed, do you need anything while I am out? The modiste is right by all sorts of shops.” You ask, earning a raised brow, pursed full lips… his eyes raking over you cruelly. You tense.

“I need nothing from you but for you to not exist, perhaps.” You gasp then, stepping back at the insanely harsh words, from nothing. He sighs, blinking a bit, running a hand through silky white hair before looking at you, then when he sees your tears, his haughty expression changes.

You say nothing, as you feel your chest pounding with your heart’s rhythm, your throat constricting. Composed and perfect, how!? How when you try so hard to be kind and he so casually destroys you, destroys that positivity you’d cultivated this morning. You tremble as you fight your tears, but soon they’ve overtaken you, and you’ve turned away, clutching your throat as it wracks through you.

You’re damn near hyperventilating when he has a hand on your shoulder, that burns you and fills you with disgust. “I shouldn’t have said that, are you…” You turn to glare up at him through your tears, and it’s the first time you see emotion in his face, his eyes swirling with a thin film of moisture. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I try so hard… every day… to just… to just…” You can’t breathe now, and you can feel the blood pressure rising, you can feel your fingertips go numb as your lungs refuse to work.

“Please, let’s sit, you’re-”

“Hands… off…” You’re practically wheezing now, but Gojo doesn’t remove his damn hands, he’s trying to lead you to sit down on the steps, and you’re smacking at him through the blurry vision of your tears.

“Can I get you something, you don’t look good. You-”

“You… don’t… care. Let me… not breathe…” You feel like you’ll faint then and there, as your hands press on your throat, and Gojo is gripping your shoulders, turning you around then, before you know it he’s yanked at your corset strings, loosening them, and you finally get a breath, leaned over the rail, shaking.

He’s rubbing you right between your shoulder blades as you sit on the step in front of him, trembling as oxygen comes back. You hate his touch, you hate him, you hate him so much. “Breathe.”

You want to laugh, but you can’t manage to.

Breathe as if it’s so simple.

It’s quiet as he’s rubbing your back, and it feels… calming, and you hate it, hate his touch, with his long, elegant fingers brushing bare skin. “I’m quite alright now, you may go. Do not let me ruin your day.”

His hand pauses its gentle brushes, now one is sliding down to your shoulder, and his exhale makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You lace your corset far too tightly, it’s digging into your back.” He makes you tremble as he runs his touch down the red criss cross marks left on your delicate skin.

“I have to make sure I don’t look bigger to you than I already do to you.” You whisper harshly, and he laughs, dark and husky.

“I already said that wasn’t true. Don’t expect me to repeat that.”

“Yes, well. Why not let me stop breathing, it would solve your problems, wouldn’t it?” You turn then, chest heaving as your body greedily sucks in breaths. “You wouldn’t have to look upon my face again.”

He blinks a bit, lips setting in a terse line as his jaw clenches, hands falling down to his sides. “I shouldn’t have said it that way.”

“Is that one of your half ass apologies again? What have I done to deserve any of this, I ask again. Any of this.”

“You need to calm down, you’re all red again.” He’s touching an overheated cheek, so you smack his hand away, earning a more typical glare from him.

“There were times I wished I didn’t exist.” You rub that scar then, looking away in the distance, your heart starts to slow down finally. His eyes dart to the action and he takes your hand in his, looking down in confusion, you yank it back quickly.

He gulps now, eyes locked there, looking visibly more pale. “I did not mean I wished you dead. I meant… not in my life.”

You blink back that emotion, wishing you could fully hide your reactions, but he pushes you until you’ll break. “I also wish I wasn’t in your life, Duke.”

You both sit there, hatred and anger lingering between you, forcing you to stand then, swiping at your face. “You cried.”

“Imagine that. Even I have a breaking point.” You adjust your dress then, as he stands, tall and looming over you.

“Turn, I’ll fix them looser.” You want to argue, but you cannot tie your own corset, so you oblige, and he begins to tie them, firm but not too tightly, deft fingers working each ribbon. “Corsets are nonsense. I don’t enjoy them. Too much work to make a woman naked.” You laugh humorlessly at that, as he keeps lacing you up.

“Well good news for you, you’ll never have to take one off me.” You quip, making him pause, stepping just a little closer, sending shivers down your spine.

He clears his throat, continuing on now. “That’s true. Thank God for that.”

You blink in anger, struggling to hold it in. “Indeed. I’m sure I’m quite hideous to you, aren’t I?”

He says nothing for a moment, hands on the ribbons of your corset just paused there, as you both breathe heavily in the entryway of the Manor. “I have not seen your body to make such judgments.”

“I’d never show you, fret not. Imagine, the first man that sees me naked tells me how disgusting I am. I’ll make sure the one who does finds me beautiful. Ah!”

He ties it tight finally, and just stays there behind you. “So eager for another man to see you naked?”

“No, I’m not, but I know the one I choose will find me beautiful. Not passable, or adequate.” You turn now, looking up at him, seeing the anger in his gaze. “Imagine if every time I saw you shirtless I said ‘unattractive’.”

He scoffs at that. “Tch, you wouldn’t, who would?”

You scoff then, smiling a bit. “Who would say that to me if they saw me topless? I assure you, nobody would.”

His eyes dart back down then, to your breasts, pushed high and full, tantalizing his gaze, but they then trail back to your pretty face. “You’re awfully confident about such things.”

“Yes well, you won’t ruin that for me too. You already have ruined my life. You will not take the confidence I built, hard as you try.”

“An abundance of it.”

“So men can have it, but women cannot? You wish for a simpering little chit to beg ‘oh Satoru, please call me pretty!’ That must be why you enjoy Miss Catherine so bloody much, and why you hate me.” You’re putting the back of your hand to your head, simpering, and earning a sharp laugh and a scowl.

“You expect men to fawn over you, as they always have, just like Lord Geto did last night, hmm?” You smile as you remember just how much Geto did think you were beautiful, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at that.

“No, I expect kindness and not cruelty. I expect to have a morning where I’m not told to not exist.” Gojo looks down, his broad shoulders hunched. “All I asked was if you needed something. You’re the cruelest person I’ve met, and you thrive in it.”

His cheeks turn red, as he looks down at your lips, eyes lingering where you've left teeth indentations from biting so hard. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me. And you never will, by your own choice.” You push past him then, and he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “What!?”

“Do you have the money I left for you in your room?” You laugh at that, a bark of laughter really, why does he insist on lingering and hurting you more and more!?

“Yes, I do.”

“You may also put anything you want on my credit. Jewelry, or shoes, ribbon, whatever you require.”

“I won’t use your money for more than necessary.”

“I’ll not have my wife with a bare neck, and there’s a masquerade coming. Purchase a mask and jewelry accordingly.”

You sigh, looking down at where he still holds your wrist, big hand taking the delicate thing over. “Fine, then, I shall do so.”

“Very well.” He lets you go slowly, but he lingers there, like the pest he’s becoming “Are you fine to go out in this warm weather after nearly fainting?”

“What do you care, it could eliminate your problem. You’d get my insanely high dowry and I’ll be gone.” You smile coldly back at him, his mouth is open, his pretty eyes sorrowful.

“I-”

“Goodbye, your grace. Tell Catherine hello when you fuck her for me.” You walk out then, slamming the manor doors behind you, pressing your back against them and struggling to come to.

Just when you think he cannot get more cruel, he does, and he’s forcing this dark part of you that you don’t know what to think of.

It’s a bit of a drive into town in the grand carriage, but the air is crisp and the horses are moving swiftly. You see the little shops as you pull up, the horses clipped and clopped on the cobblestone streets. The numerous people are all dressed in their Sunday best, couples holding hands, and it’s quite the sight.

The modiste is a charming little shop with a bell that tinkles when you walk in, and immediately a flurry of activity starts. The women inside all look up at you, gasping. “Your Grace! What brings you to us?”

You blink, as the woman who had called out is a beautiful woman with a pretty accent, she has light blue braids that decorate her pretty face, making her look mysterious. “Hello Miss Mei! I wish to pick out some new dresses for the season, it’s been a while since I’ve had any new ones made, also we have the masquerade soon which is the priority. Would you mind helping me?”

“Oh, of course, of course!” She says, bustling over, she’s tall and curved and so elegant. “Let’s get you into the back so we can have a proper look, shall we?” She grabs your hand and pulls you back into the back, as you realize the woman’s quite strong.

“Your Grace, we are so honored to be of service to you!” Her assistant, Utahime, is a delicate and pretty brunette, who cheerfully greets you. You smile over at her.

“Please, just call me Lady Gojo for now. I am not feeling so formal today, and I’d like to enjoy your company without the title weighing on us, if that’s okay?” They both nod eagerly, and they get to work, pulling out fabrics and dresses, asking your opinions.

It’s refreshing to be around such genuine cheer, such pure love for their craft, and you find yourself smiling more and more as you look over the fabrics, for a beautiful moment your cruel husband isn’t in your mind. Utahime holds up a deep blue that matches his eyes, though, but it’s beautiful. You sigh.

“Oh, yes, that’s lovely!”

“It’s perfect, Lady Gojo! And it’ll compliment your husband so nicely!” She says, as Mei Mei agrees, holding up a silver one. “This would be for a masquerade?”

“I’d like to think so, yes. I’ve not been to one in so long!”

The girls giggle a bit, as they start pulling out designs, and your mind drifts off to a past you’ve pushed aside. You’d gone to a masquerade once, before you’d met Gojo, and you’d felt so alive, dancing with a mysterious stranger, feeling his hands on you, feeling so desired. He was blond, wasn’t he!?

You’d been so young then, you still were but twenty one, but you were perhaps seventeen when you’d danced in his arms, and you can remember those glimmering hazel eyes drinking you in, a lazy smile on his face. You’d fancied yourself in love then and there, just a teenager of course, and you two had almost kissed on one of the balconies.

He’d cupped your face so delicately, and your eyes had fluttered shut. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, darling.”

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve seen, Sir.” You’d tip toed, finger lifting at his mask teasingly, making him laugh. “Even more handsome I imagine without this.”

“I should say the same.” He begins to lift your mask then, off your face so gently, then he had sucked in a breath, running rough but gentle fingers down your face. “Stopped my heart.”

“Oh, you go on, Sir.” You look down shyly, but he’s tilting your chin up, his breath warm and sweet against your lips.

“An angel amongst mere mortals. Should I have such an honor?” He’s leaning further, and your heart is hammering in your chest, then you hear it, your mother.

“Shit!” You back off, putting your mask back on, earning his chuckle.

“The angel has a mouth.” You giggle then, leaning up and kissing his cheek, before backing away. He reaches for you, but you’re running off. “Perhaps we’ll meet again, Sir!”

“Let’s try this one on!” Utahime says, holding up a gorgeous gown, and you nod eagerly, shaking out of your reverie. Ah, to have been young and hopeful.

You allow them to help you out of your day dress and into this beautiful creation, and as you look in the mirror, you can’t help but feel like that girl again, the one who felt alive, the one who felt desired. The one before Satoru Gojo in just a week or so had been absolutely destroyed. You see it in your eyes, she is still there.

“You’re positively glowing, Lady Gojo!” Mei Mei says, and Utahime nods in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you both so much. This is just what I needed!” And it truly was, as you spun in the gown, watching the fabric flutter around you like a storm of silk, it’s the prettiest silver you’ve ever seen.

“We can have this adjusted before the masquerade, Is there anything else we can do for you?” Utahime asks, and you look over to the side, seeing a few accessories. “Oh, a necklace perhaps?”

“Yes I believe so. Perhaps silver to match?” Mei Mei grabs a few to show you, as you try them on, looking into the mirror.

“This one!” Utahime says, holding up a necklace with glittering sapphires. “It’s so beautiful on you!”

You agree, and they put it around your neck, the cool stone resting against your collarbone. “How much?”

It’s an insane amount but…

Fuck Gojo, you can at least get pretty things, yes?

“Thank you, so much. You’ve made my day.” They both smile broadly, and you realize how much you’ve missed this, the simple kindness of others. Leaving the manor is like a huge breath of fresh air.

As you leave the modiste, feeling so much lighter, clinging to your bag with some of your purchases, most will be delivered as they’re still being made. Then you see him, a man in the distance, watching you, and your heart stops. He's tall and blond, just like this dream of yours, just like that night…

It can’t be, can it?

He looks right at you across the bustling street, and his face lights up in recognition, a small tired smile on his handsome face. He comes across the way, stopping in front of you now, and your heart thuds in your chest. Oh but if you’d met him again, could everything have changed? But who was he?

“It’s the mysterious masquerade angel.” He teases, and you giggle a bit, as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it with warm lips.

Your eyes take in his every feature, from his sharp cheekbones, to his thin upper lip and full lower, a conundrum that begged for kisses. His hand that holds yours is so strong, rough, not like the gentlemen you’re used to, and it serves to make your heart flutter.

His hazel eyes that you remember vividly are tilted up like a cat, and he has dark circles under them, serving to show along with rough hands how hard he must work. His sandy blond hair makes you remember that dream, and suddenly you feel even more flustered, as you put it together. He’s nearly as tall as Geto and Gojo, but he’s much broader, shoulders massive under a sleek tan suit.

“How rude of me, just staring.” You give him your name, and it sounds far too good on his lips, with his deep, sultry voice, emanating so much warmth and kindness when his lips quirk. You realize he’s still holding your hand.

“Kento Nanami. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” His thumb brushes your ring then, and he frowns down at it. “Ah, and met you too late?”

“It’s quite a long story I’m afraid, Mr. Nanami.” You say softly, he looks at you curiously, studying your face.

“Forgive me for saying this, but you look so very… forlorn. Have things been rough in this… marriage?”

“Oh…” You’re nearly about to cry in front of a near stranger, but he makes you feel so comfortable, you ache for him to hold you in his arms. “It’s been rough, yes. I should not go on here…” You notice people looking, so you ease back your hand reluctantly. “I’m afraid as Duchess I’m highly watched, and don’t get the luxury of parading mistresses.”

“What? Mistresses… oh. Fuck.” He huffs those words then, and tilts his head, and you begin to join his walk. “I know some areas that are not so busy, I live just a block from here.”

“That would be nice, thank you Sir.” His arm brushes against yours as you all walk, and you remember dancing in his arms that night. “I’m so surprised you remember me.”

“I’m more so surprised, my Lady. Or… your Grace now is it?”

“You don’t need to call me all that, please.” He hears the pain in your voice, his hazel gaze taking you in seriously as you continue to walk together, the gentle breeze blowing your bonnet nearly off. It starts to fly and you catch it, giggling breathlessly, and Nanami pauses, taking it fully off.

“I cannot even say how beautiful you are, even moreso than before. Surely the Duke would have me whipped, hmm?”

“No, actually, it’s an odd situation. He cares nothing for me.”

“Even if you…”

“No, even then. You know, I was seventeen then, Sir.” You tease, gently pushing his hard chest with two fingers, making him flush even more on those high cheekbones.

He grimaces at that. “Oh gods, were you?”

“I turned eighteen the next week, but yes I was just a girl then. How old are you, Mr. Nanami?”

“Twenty seven. I am a tired twenty seven.”

You roll your eyes. “Just six years, silly man.” He is still holding your bonnet, and he awkwardly hands it back to you, smiling apologetically. Your fingers brush, and you both pause then, it’s like little shocks run through you, you gasp a bit as you gently take it from him. “I hear daily I’m intolerable, so you have free range to speak. It’s quite nice to hear.

“Noble men seem to think they can do whatever they wish, I'm afraid. How are you not enough?”

Mr. Nanami’s words make your palms sweat, as you feel his nearness, the heat from his body as you walk next to him, to where the crowds were more dispersed. It was a little warm out as well, the sun shining on his golden skin, making it glow, as you all stand far too close, and you enjoy it so much you’d feel bad, if your husband wasn’t Satoru Gojo.

“He does not… we do nothing. It’s simply only his mistresses. So it’s not that I’m not enough, it’s that I don’t exist in that way at all.”

“What!?” He pauses again, raising a light brow, and you hesitate, looking down, where he has the most ludicrous tie on. You briefly imagine pulling it, pulling him down… what is wrong with you?

“I’m disgusting to him. So.” You hate the emotion choking your throat, he’s scowling down now, and you’re far too close. “It’s a long story, but it was arranged, and he did not want me.”

“So he doesn’t want the most beautiful woman in London?” You blush furiously, shaking your head a bit. “So who does he expect? There’s no lovelier.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but… it matters naught. It’s lonely, loveless, and I am stuck in it. I do wish we met sooner, but my parents…”

“Surely there are things to be done, even with a Duke. If you’ve done nothing, an annulment is possible. My good friend is a lawyer, perhaps I could ask discreetly?”

You tilt your head to look up at him curiously. “Why would you help me? You don’t know me.”

“Why wouldn’t I help a pretty damsel in distress, hmm?” You smile up at him, with watery eyes, and watch him suck in a breath as he studies you.

“Are you a knight in shining armor, Mr. Nanami?” You whisper, he bows then at the waist, peeking up at you and making you melt.

“For you, darling, anything.”

Fuck.

“Anything, hmm?” You both walk down the trail to the park, where it’s quiet this time of day, grassy knolls and beautiful lush flowers bloom. It fills you with an odd peace your soul has been so lacking.

“I imagine any man would offer the same. Except for your…” He trails off, as if he does not want to say his name, to say you’re married.

“The Duke.” You say softly. He sighs.

“Mmm. I’ve heard he’s a rather immature, foolish man. But to be so… such an imbecile. Is mind boggling.”

“He’s cruel to me.” You both keep walking, you’re walking with a stranger practically, but you feel more comfortable than you have since you’ve been stuck with your husband. His words still make your heart ache.

Wish you didn’t exist.

“Has he… hurt you?” Nanami pauses you, in a field surrounded by willow trees, casting blissful shadows across you both, shade from the warm sun. You lick your lower lip when he caresses your cheek gently, before pausing. “I’m sorry I should not be so bold…”

“No, please don’t stop, it feels good.” You put his hand back, your breasts rising and falling with each breath in your bodice, drawing his gaze for just a moment, before he respectfully looks back into your eyes. You’re holding his hand on your face, falling apart inside. “Not physically really. His words are the knives that twist in my chest.”

“You don’t deserve that. This sadness in your eyes… It's heartbreaking when I think of you a few years ago, glittering eyes and a beautiful grin.” You gulp a bit, stepping closer, inhaling the scent of him, like warm sandalwood.

“I wanted so badly to see you again.” You admit, lashes fluttering as you study his strong chest in this light blue dress shirt, it looks so broad and strong, your fingers itch to touch it.

“I’m not in your social circle, I’m a mere businessman. Who partakes in boxing at times.” You brush your thumb across his knuckles, calloused and scarred.

“I can tell you know how to use your hands.” He blushes then, and you blink a bit. “Was that bad to say?”

“Forgive me but… how much have you done?”

“Oh… nothing. A kiss. The duke said he will not lay with me.” Nanami takes a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair now.

“Using hands… it made me think about things I should not. Touching you.” His husky whisper makes your tummy clench with… is this desire?

“Oh.” Your voice is a breathy whisper. “I’ve seen him with his mistress, um her… riding him. So I've seen sex.”

His hazel eyes widen. “You’ve seen it!? Him with her?”

“Well yes, he doesn’t hide it. She’s always around.”

His jaw clenches, and you watch a vein popping out of his strong neck, you errantly trail a fingertip down it, making him tense even more, his free hand now on the nip of your waist. “I hate this for you. I’ll try to help, if I can.”

“For now, I will be stuck in this, and all I can think of is how good I’d feel in your arms. It’s very scandalous of me. Isn’t it?” He blinks then, lowering his face until you’re so close.

“No, it’s not scandalous to want affection. I’d say that makes you human. But would this hurt you? Would he hurt you for it?” He’s pressing you back gently, until your back is against a thick oak tree. You can’t stop the little whine that escapes the back of your throat as your own hands slide around his thick waist.

“I would not reveal who you are. But I’ve told him I will have someone find me beautiful, the first person to see me, not grotesque or… passable.”

He scoffs then, his hand sliding up the side of your breast, pressing just so, and your head falls back, as you can taste coffee on his breath. “He should not get to see your beauty. So does my darling simply want a hug from me, or does she wish for something else?”

“Your darling, hmm?” He smirks a bit, his eyes growing lidded with desire, as his hard body pressed against yours.

“Do you know how many dreams you’ve occupied? Running away from me and cursing like a man.” You giggle, brightly, and he laughs with you softly, your breaths intermingling together. Would you truly kiss two men in two days, and neither of them are your husband? “That was the grin.”

“It’s easy to forget the world with you, it was that night as well. You have no clue the awful week I’d had before we danced.” You run your hand up and down his chest, over the silky tie, fingers itching to pull him in.

“I’m glad to look upon this face again. I thought you were a dream.”

“I may have… seen you in my dream too.”

“I’m not so worthy.” You shake your head, eyes drinking him in slowly.

“You’re a very handsome man, Nanami Kento. Would it hurt you to… to kiss someone that can’t fully be yours though?”

“I’d suffer any sort of pain for a chance at you.”

“You go on too much.” You tiptoe then, pulling his tie, and one hand braces by your head on the tree, the other sliding down your back, making your nipples go taut against your bodice.

“So use your words, darling, let me know what you want?” You bite your lip at his sultry words, as you feel yourself back at that night, in his arms.

“A kiss, mysterious man. You owed me one.” He exhales then, pressing you further against the hard wood of the tree, and his lips descending on yours, so gentle and sweet, a featherlight touch that ignites something inside of you.

You whimper into his lips, and he moans, opening them then, and sliding his tongue inside, you press yours against his, in a back and forth dance, swirling around each other. Your teeth click as the kiss deepens, and now his hands are both on your little waist, overtaking it, burning through your corset, through your dress, fuck his touch feels so good, you’re leaning up for more.

Your hands enwrap in his silky hair, messing the perfect set of it up, then he shocks you, picking you up, just dangling you off the ground, you squeak a bit and he pulls back, hungry eyes, his face stark with hunger, mirroring your own. He eases you down, sliding on his hard body, and you cling tightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Imagine this pretty face cumming.” He whispers, and you are blushing as you don’t fully understand.

“Um… what is that, Mr. Nanami?” He pales a bit, sighing and cupping your face now, his free hand sliding down your hip now, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

“I’ll surely go to hell for not just you being married, but so innocent. Corrupting one as such seems a one way ticket to hell.” You giggle again, though he’s serious, glaring a bit at you. You kiss him once more, enjoying the sigh he makes.

“Explain, Sir. An order from your Duchess.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes a bit, stepping back to look at you.

“Cumming… or climaxing, it’s pleasure. For you.” He murmurs, his gaze glinting green in this light now, licking that glossy lower lip now. Your tummy clenches again, and now you feel heat… between your thighs, making you look down nervously. “Am I saying too much?”

“It’s having an odd effect. Um. Here.” You take his hand, gliding it down to your lower tummy, watching his eyes dilate, so dark as his cheeks hollow with him sucking in a breath.

“That would be desire. Is this a… first?” You nod nervously, furiously blushing now.

“To this extent yes. It’s spreading lower.”

“Going to hell for this.” You are curious but he’s back to kissing you again, and now his hand is sliding to your breasts, and he yanks your bodice down, making you gasp as he peers at the breasts that have spilled. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.”

“I… um… Nanami?” He’s cupping them, and your eyes flutter shut at how good it feels, him squishing them so gently in big hands. “Nanami!”

“Perfect. May I?” You look down curiously, as he’s sitting now, pulling you onto his lap, straddling him obscenely. You’re a mess of emotions and desire, as he kisses down your collarbone. “May I kiss them, darling?”

“Oh, you want to?”

“I’m dying to.”

“Yes, you may. Ah!” You gasp in pleasure then, as you’re feeling something hard against where you’re so eager, that apex of your thighs. You grind on it, moaning at the friction, and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth, it feels so good you get wet down there. “Oh no!”

“What, darling?” He asks softly, and you feel so embarrassed, looking down. “You’re so hot there.”

“It’s wet. Is that…”

“Fuck you are killing me.” He’s pressing your hips down further, and you whine out in pleasure at the friction, as he’s sucking another nipple in his hot mouth. Your body is reacting so hard to it all, your head falling back, and you’re moaning loudly now. “Wet is very good, darling. But… you’re quite loud.”

“Is that bad?” He chuckles, pulling your top up, shaking his head.

“Not if we weren’t outside. Perhaps… alone.”

“Let’s do that?”

“You’re so eager for that, hmm?” You nod, and he is kissing you again, leaning up and moaning, hands trembling against your hips. “Are you sure? Do you have so much time?”

“Does it last long?”

“Pleasuring you yes. I am thinking of too many ways currently.” You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself.

“What are the ways? Mmh.”

“Those noises you make, gods.” He kisses down your throat, wrapping arms around you. “I’m dreaming.”

“I am.” He chuckles against your collarbone, tickling it, your hands cling to his broad shoulders. “It’s like my woes faded for a few moments.” You say sadly then, as you come to the realization of just what you’re doing. It hits hard, how easily you fall into this man’s arms.

“I could please you with my fingers, with my mouth, or both. To start.” You bite your lower lip, as you grow impossibly wetter against him. “But we’ve done a lot, and I don’t want to overwhelm you, when you’re so upset already.”

He is correct, you’re acting on instinct, there is no… thoughts here.

You were Gojo���s wife.

Would you be as bad as him if you go further?

“I’ll let you know where my apartments are, then you decide what you want. And darling, I’ll give it to you.” You feel tears flowing then, and he swipes them away, kissing on your cheeks.

“You mean make love?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that. No, I would please you.”

“What if I ask so sweetly?” He chuckles, and taps your nose, shaking his head at you as he eases you up to stand, holding your hands.

“You cuss and are so wanton, hmm?”

“I suppose I’m not so ladylike.”

“You’re very much a Lady.” He kisses you again, gently once more, brushing his lips over yours. “I will make some inquiries quietly, if you so decide to try.”

“I’m afraid it will be no option but it surely won't hurt. I am so very glad we met again. You’ve made me so happy.”

“I didn’t make you cum though.” You are a mess at that, and he’s smirking at you. “You’re too adorable to tease.”

“Sir!” He kisses you again and again, until you both get heated again. “What if I stay so quiet?”

“Can you even? If you’re so loud from kissing?”

“Hush, Sir.” You stick your tongue out, making him chuckle, then you hastily get yourself together, as you all head back to town. When you’re by your carriage you dread what awaits you at home. “I hope to see you again, Sir.”

“I ache to see you again, darling.” He kisses your hand once more, helping you up into the carriage, and your heart is still pounding as you ride off, covering your face and struggling to not rip your damn corset off. You’re so wet between your thighs you reach your finger down scandolously, up your skirts, finding sticky wetness glistening on your fingers.

Fuck.

You’ve never felt like this, Suguru’s kiss and unfortunately Satoru’s touches had felt a bit of that pressure, but Nanami has wrecked you. The way he touched you, kissed you, the way he looked at you. With adoration, the whispers of his sweet words tickle your ears still. You run your finger down your lips of your sex, shivering at how sensitive you are.

You’ve never touched yourself.

You’ve kissed two men in two days, now you play with yourself in a carriage, you don’t even know yourself… but fuck if it didn’t feel good, to lose yourself in his arms, and fuck if you weren’t tempted to see him again. He’d seen your breasts, which were now firmly back in your bodice, but you can see the little red marks left from his bites, from him sucking on them.

Your heart is going to burst from your chest, as you walk into your home then, and Satoru is moaning, you hear it clear as day. You tense a bit, because it sounds too loud to be far away, then he’s right there, bending over some other mistress, right on the dining room table. When he hears you he pauses, looking back and you’re getting a view of his entire ass, and someone’s thighs.

“Really, on the table?” You demand then, and he rolls his eyes, as the mistress squeals, pulling back and covering up. “Where’s Catherine?”

“She said she couldn’t any longer because you’re too nice and she feels horrible.” He adjusts himself, but not before you get an eye full of his… very large cock, huge and curved with a pink tip. You feel an odd hit again in your tummy, but it mixes with disgust as you realize where it had just been.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be as nice.” You say, and he scoffs, as you walk past now, yanking off the table cloth, not moving a single thing on it with the movement. Satoru’s blue eyes get wide in shock when you shove it into the mistress’ arms, a little brunette girl. “Have those cleaned you little chit, understood? I’ll not have you soiling such fine linen.”

She sputters, then runs off, nodding. Satoru smirks, surprising you then, you figured he’d be irritated, but he saunters to you, his dress shirt wide open, tie hanging loose now. You feel such disgust from him, clearly covered in her, red lipstick all over his throat.

“Do it in your chambers. Could you at least give me that kindness?”

“You don’t enjoy to watch? You don’t picture yourself there?” He presses you against the table now and you smirk up at him.

“Oh, not with you I don’t.”

His thin white brows lower, as he takes you in now. Your hair is loose and flowing, and you have red marks all over your breasts, earning a full fucking scowl. “What on earth have you been doing?”

“Just kissing, don’t worry. But… I got so wet, now I know what you meant that night, Duke.” You put a hand on his chest, and feel his heart race under your palm, his chest heaving as his blue eyes bore into your face.

“Wet?”

“Mmhmm. Soaking wet.” He shuts his eyes, sucking in a breath and looking away, hands clenching the table on either side of you so tightly you would think he’d break the wood. “I wasn’t that night. How could I be? Smacking doesn’t have that effect.”

“Yes well you would have been if I’d touched you.” He leans in closer, a breath away, and you just continue to smile, batting your eyelashes.

“You never will, so no matter. But I don’t think so. I think I enjoy…” You shove at him, making him step back. “Rougher hands.”

“Rougher hands!?” You giggle now, and he glares. “You’re in a good fucking mood. Ice princess can laugh?”

“I can when not being told not to exist. When not walking in on some whore screaming your name.”

“Oh whores are they, and you?”

“I’m a lady who has a terrible fucking husband. For now.”

“For now!?” You walk away now as he stumbles back, but he follows you, as you glide up the stairs, humming. “What does that mean?”

“No sex, no marriage really. So we’ll have an annulment. But we’ll give it some time for now, perhaps a year, so that you can keep ahold of that dowry.” He’s following you up each step, until he’s pinning you against the wall, but he doesn’t scare you, you see him losing it.

“So what we have sex? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“Oh no, I’m glad we don’t. I can’t wait for my first time to be special. Oh I hear my breasts are beautiful by the way.” You tap his chin with a finger, grinning, and he is huffing now, one hand entangling in your hair, the other sliding to your bodice.

“Men say anything to get under a lady’s skirts.”

“Mmm, maybe so. But it was nice to hear. Don’t worry, I won’t ask your opinion, I see who you fuck and… it’s nothing like me, is it?”

“You assume they’re that nice? Show me then. All talk.” You raise a brow, and he is fingering the lace of your bodice.

“I’m unnatractive to you, what’s it matter? But sure, Duke, you can untie my corset and let me know your nasty opinion.” You rush into your room and he’s following you, overheated as he unties you at a stupidly fast pace.

“Let me guess, he sucked on those perky nipples?” He whispers, yanking your corset off harshly, and you tilt your head curiously, feeling the chill of the room when he’s yanked it off fully. You take off your bodice, turning in just your shift then, hands on your strips as his gaze is…

Hungry?

No.

Psychotic.

“Perky hmm? Yes, he did, and it felt so good. Well, here…” You slide your shift down to your waist, looking down as you wait for his nasty comments. He says nothing, but you hear him bump into your nightstand. You look at him curiously, as his mouth is slack open, staring at them openly. “Go on, make your insults.”

He just stares, and it’s… odd, your nipples are hard from the chill of the room, as your lush breasts sway slightly when you shift from one leg to the other. You sigh, rolling your eyes then, and covering yourself back up, as he’s still sputtering, and he comes to grip your wrists now, in a tight, bruising grip, bringing your attention to his face once more.

“Say it, your Grace. Passable? Or grotesque?” You whisper, and he leans down now, until his lips are far too close, making you want to simultaneously recoil and lean closer.

You hate this man.

“They’re perfect.” He says softly, and you do back away then, with shocked eyes, as he gulps, clearing his throat, blue eyes lingering down to where your breasts nearly hang out in your shift.

“You jest with me, of course. I know you don’t-”

“They’re fucking perfect.” He says again, then he lets you go, and you feel the very room close in on you.

“As nice as the little slut you’re fucking now?” You quip, angrily, and he rakes a hand through his hair, looking down, his abdomen flexing as he moves back. “Catherine was prettier.”

“Jesus fucking…” You look down then, and notice it… the huge bulge in his pants, and you blink a bit in confusion, looking back up at him again. His face looks tortured.

“Well thanks for saying one nice thing about me. That is… surprising.” You mumble then. “It looks like you’re wanting to finish fucking that girl though.”

“Blasted you’re stupid.”

“Me stupid?”

“Stupid.” He pulls you against him then, so you shove at him now, glaring up at him. “What, I cannot touch you?”

“We don’t do that. And thank you for that, because I get to have true pleasure, and not some forced formality.”

He searches your face then. “Did you cum?”

“Did I… no… what’s it your business!?” You demand heatedly.

“You’re my wife.” Those words are so meaningless, where you once hoped to have meaning, it makes you laugh then, losing it, there was no longer composure.

“You wanted this, to do nothing with me, and guess what, I want that too. You smell like her cheap perfume, you’re covered in her wetness, you think I want you?” You ask, and he grips tighter, scowling at you.

“You think I said I wanted you? For nice tits?” Ah, there it is.

“No, I don’t, that’s why I found someone who does. Works out, doesn’t it, dear husband. Now go on, you have whores to fuck. Hop to it Duke.”

“Hop to it… you insolent little…” You’re just giggling, and he’s not glaring, it’s like he’s confused who you are.

“I see why you’re always fucking, even kissing does put me in quite a happy little mood.” You tap his cheek now, earning another grip on your wrists. “Not kissing you though, that was horrible.”

“I didn’t try to kiss you.” He whispers, lingering close once more. You ignore the flutter of your pulse at your throat. “I never wanted to kiss you.”

“That’s for the best. I’ve lost my appetite after seeing her on that table, so I won’t eat tonight. Best for you I imagine.” He glares now.

“I will have it sent to your room.”

“No need.”

“You’ll eat.” He commands through gritted teeth, and you just blink at him in confusion.

“If you wish, dear husband.” He stomps away then, slamming your door, and you can’t help but smile. You’d gotten under his fucking skin, and you got to kiss sweet Nanami Kento.

Gojo does send up food for you, he’s very confusing, isn’t he? You nibble carefully, hearing him louder than ever in the room next to you. You sigh in annoyance, but when Nanami enters your mind, you smile, you feel warmth radiating through you. It could be hopeless, but it was such a beautiful feeling you were thriving from it.

Unfortunately, instead of Nanami, it’s your rather horrid husband that is under that tree with you, that’s sucking under your breasts, with his blue eyes looking lustfully up at you, his perfect cheeks hollowed as he grinds his length against where you’re so wet. You hate it, that even in your dreams you cannot escape him, and you hate it more when he’s bending you over that table.

That Goddamn Duke.

You hate him.

[runnning-outof-time]

Tommy & His Girls | Tommy Shelby x Reader

read more of the Girl Dad Mini Series — HERE.

request: yes by anonymous

pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

summary: When things get rough, Tommy can most certainly count on the girls in his life to lighten things up.

warnings: drinking, smoking, Tommy being a horsegirl

word count: 2089

a/n: back at it with another girl dad!Tommy fic - I just love using this little family I’ve created (if you couldn’t tell) I hope you like this installment of their story!! p.s…I’m sorry if the ending’s corny…I didn’t know how to, well, end it. Enjoy!! :)

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

Tommy barely said a word as he entered Arrow House. He handed his things to Frances and made a b-line to his study. Things with the business were rough today...they'd been rough for as far back as Tommy could remember. It seemed like he was the only one in the family pulling the weight and that left him feeling like there was war happening inside his head as he made the drive home.

He pushed his study's door closed behind him as he walked into the room, not even caring if the door had enough velocity to latch or not. He trudged his way to his desk after pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. Half of it was downed in the first drink; he really wanted the pain in his head to cease.

Setting the glass down, he went through the motions of lighting himself a cigarette. The first, deep drag he took finally made some of the noise quiet down.

It's unclear how long he sat like that: slumped back on his chair with a cigarette burning between his fingers. The next time he came to, however, was when the office door opened slightly.

"Dad?" a small voice came from the opposite side of the room, making Tommy sit up straighter in his seat.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice not quite audible. He cleared his throat before responding louder, "yes?" He focused in on the doorway, seeing his oldest daughter, Thea, standing in it.

The young girl said nothing else as she fully entered the room and made her way right over to his desk. “You didn’t come to my room to say hello,” she stated, a slight frown present on her face.

She stopped in front of his chair as she finished speaking, her arms open to show him that she wanted a hug. The second he opened his, she fell into them.

Tommy let out a sigh as he felt the weight of his eldest daughter against him. “Hello, Thea,” he breathed, a sigh escaping with his words. He couldn’t deny the fact that he felt terrible in that moment. He always made sure to greet Thea when he returned home from work, no matter what type of day he had.

How could he have gotten so frustrated that he forgot one of the most important parts of his day?

Thea was the one to break away from the hug — Tommy could have sat there like that all evening if she allowed it — and step back to look at her father.

He watched her, waiting to see what she’d do next. To his surprise, she made her way over to one of the seats that faced his desk and sat down.

The two stared at each other for a few moments longer. Thea looked as if she was studying her father; like she was taking notes on the entire situation. Tommy was quite confused as to why the ten year old wanted to stick around after greeting him.

Finally, after several moments of silence, he had to ask her just that, “why have you decided to stay, love?”

“I was able to tell that you’re stressed out over work, dad. I don’t want to leave you alone,” she answered him, sounding simultaneously like a ten year old and like a person who was beyond their years.

Tommy took a moment to let her words sink in. Then he couldn’t help but smile as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. The innocence that his daughters held despite the line of work their father was present in was always something that grounded him, no matter what was going on. He knew that he could count on it to bring him back down from that position of power to just being their dad.

“You can keep working,” Thea’s voice broke through his thoughts, making him realize that he had been sitting there, staring at her for some time.

Tommy glanced down at the papers that were scattered across his desk. They were covered with statements that he truly didn’t want to read anymore. Then he looked to one of the photographs that sat proudly on his desk. It was of Thea, Evie, and Juni. They were all hugging onto each other and smiling their biggest smiles. His eyes finally moved to Thea, who was still sitting with a smile on her face.

“I can’t work any longer,” he said to her then as he stood from his chair, “let’s go and see what your sisters are doing,” he suggested, his statement making Thea rise from her seat as well.

Tommy and Thea found Evie and Juni playing in the front room.

“Dad’s home!” Thea exclaimed, making the two younger girls quickly turn around.

“Dad!” they both cheered in unison, smiles lighting up their faces.

Tommy smiled as they rushed over to hug him. He could slowly feel the stress leaving his body. “Hello, girls,” he greeted them, rubbing both of their backs as they held onto him tightly.

“Come play, dad!” Juni exclaimed as she pulled away from him to go back to the toys they had strewn about on the floor.

“Have you ladies finished your homework?” he asked the older two before making his decision.

“Course I have,” Evie answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “it was too easy.”

“Mine’s finished as well,” Thea answered with a smile.

“Good,” Tommy nodded, smiling at his girls.

“Let’s play!” Juni shrieked from where she was standing by the toys. By this time she already had one leg in one of the ‘princess dresses’ that the girls had specially made for them. Tommy smiled as he saw the one she’d chosen - it was one that Thea had been given when she was little.

“What game?” Tommy asked, watching as his other girls followed suit and grabbed the things they needed from their toy chest.

“Princesses, of course,” Evie answered like it was common sense….well, in this Shelby household it kind of was. Tommy chuckled at that thought.

“Thea’s the queen!” Juni shouted excitedly.

“She’s always the queen though!” Evie protested, a frown on her face as her hands dropped to her hips.

“I’m the queen because I’m the oldest,” Thea calmly explained to her disgruntled sister, “it’s just one of my jobs as the oldest sibling. You and Juni are princesses because you’re my younger sisters, and you’ll get to be queen once I’m older.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as he listened to her explanation. She was truly wise beyond her years, and she handled everything with such grace.

“Fine,” Evie huffed, deciding to accept the decision even though she sounded a little disappointed.

“What’s my part in this?” Tommy asked the three once their conversation had ended.

“The part you always are, dad,” Evie was the one to answer.

“Got it,” Tommy nodded, surpressing a groan as he lowered himself to the floor. I’m getting too old for this, he thought to himself, but he didn’t dare let that feeling show. He’d never turn down the opportunity to play with his girls.

(Y/N) was finally finished with discussing all of the changes that were to be made with the grounds and house keepers. A lot went into preparing Arrow House as one season rolled into the next. Despite the magnitude of the task and all of the moving parts that were involved, (Y/N) would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy overseeing these changes.

Now, however, she was more than ready to get back to her family.

She was able to hear them before she saw them. The giggles of her girls and one of Tommy’s unmistakable impressions. She laughed to herself just hearing it.

The sight she was met with in the front room brought the widest smile to her face. “What’s going on in here?” she made her presence known with a question.

“Mum!” came as a chorus of yells from the three girls as they forgot what they were doing to run and greet her.

“Hello, my darlings,” she greeted them, eagerly accepting their hugs. “What’re you playing in here with dad?”

“Princesses!” Juniper chirped, holding up her wand excitedly.

“Ahh,” (Y/N) nodded in understanding, “and what part is dad playing?”

“He’s the prized horse,” Evie happily answered.

(Y/N) finally looked to her husband. The sight she was met with had her stifling her laughter. Tommy was still down on all fours, and was wearing a rather strained expression as he looked at her through the longer strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

“Of course he is,” she finally responded, grinning at him before focusing her attention on the girls. “How about we give him a break now, hmm? Frances has informed me that dinner is ready,” she then suggested.

No pushback was received from any of the girls, who promptly began making their way to the dining room.

(Y/N) looked over at Tommy again. He was now wearing a look of relief, and he matched his eyes with hers again just briefly before he began the process of standing up. (Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle at his predicament, waiting for him to be on his feet again before she started walking to the dining room.

For once, Tommy was actually relieved to have heard that dinner was ready.

After dinner the family decided to go out onto the grounds and enjoy one of the final warm, late fall evenings before winter hit.

Juniper, of course, wanted to go to the stables and check on the horses. Tommy happily took her while the older two stayed back with (Y/N). It wasn’t a surprise, however, when he saw the three cresting the hill to join them in the stables.

Later that night, Tommy was - surprisingly - ready to be in bed at the same time as (Y/N). He helped out with tucking the girls in, wanting to spend as much time with them as he could.

(Y/N) didn’t miss the groan that left his lips as he sat down on his side of the bed. “Not as nimble of a horse as you used to be, huh?” she teasingly commented, biting on her finger to stiffle her giggles when his head snapped to look at her. “Maybe they should put you out to pasture.”

Tommy shot her a look that told her she should watch what she was saying. His look made her giggles escape.

“They’ll still treat you as their prized pony,” she conceded, moving over to where he was so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders. “You know how much they enjoy having you play with them,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

Tommy smiled at the sentiment, nodding his head slightly as he brought his hand up to set it against the spot her wrists crossed each other.

“I don’t believe I’ve asked you…” (Y/N) started after a few moments had passed. She lifted her head from his neck before continuing, “how was your day?”

A breath of a laugh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, silently recounting his day’s events and deciphering what he wanted to tell her. “I came home stressed, but the girls were able to put me into a better mood,” he decided not to go too far into details, settling with a short summary.

“They’ve stolen my job then, hmm?” her question wasn’t the sort of response that he was excepting, and it was one that had him turning his head in confusion, hoping that she’d offer more explanation. “It used to be my job to put you into a better mood,” she remarked, the smile she was wearing telling him that she wasn’t being completely serious about this.

“All of you girls put me in a better mood,” he responded in a matter-of-fact tone before adding, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And that was the truth. Without those girls, he probably would have still been in his office, droning over the same stack of papers and nursing his umpteenth whiskey.

Without those girls, he probably would have had to deal with another night of keeping his demons at bay as the shovels hit against the walls.

Without his girls, he would most certainly be a completely different man than the one he is today.

MASTERLIST

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

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

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

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

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

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

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

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

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hello! I don't know if requests are open, I'm sorry, but I have a request 🥹 You can ignore it if you want!

Imagine the reader dyeing her hair, and Logan doesn't really understand the concept, but thinks she looks really pretty, and then she asks him to dye the back part where she can't see 😭❤️‍🩹 just cute and loving

My requests are always open!

Logan always loved your hair. He thought you always had it so pretty, even when you just woke up and it was all over the place. He loved whatever shampoo you used it always made it so soft and smelt sweet. You changed your hair often and it always turned out amazing, Logan just assumed that you went to the salon to get your hair done, he knew that you did your nails at home you said it was too expensive to go out and get them done professionally so you just did it at the house. He hated the smell of the polish, but he did love seeing you having pretty nails, so he put up with it and sometimes he even helped paint your right hand. However, he had just assumed you got your hair done professionally, he never saw you do your hair at the house at it just looked too well done for an amateur.

He has been getting upset with you lately, and he didn't know how to tell you.

He always wanted to be the one who took care of you. He wanted to provide for you, no matter the cost or what it was. He just wanted you to have whatever you wanted in life, but you kept denying his offers to get your hair done. He was about to just make an appointment at some random salon and drive you there for it so you would stop arguing with him over dumb stuff like money.

.

.

He just got off work and was walking into the house, ready to not back down from the fight he knew was coming, but as he was walking into the house, a strong smell overwhelmed his senses. He groaned and scrunched up his nose "the fuck is that smell??"

You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Logan so soon. "Logan! You weren't supposed to be home for another hour!" You rushed back to the bathroom to try and clean up some of the hair product you've been using and to open the window to air out the room as best as you could.

"What is that smell?" Logan asked again, still not knowing what he was smelling. You cringed slightly and turned to him with the bowl of hair dye in your hands. "I was doing my hair, just a touch-up, but I-I thought you weren't going to be home for a while, so I thought I'd have time to air the house out. I know you're sensitive to smells and just assumed that the dye would be too strong for you."

Logan felt his heart swell slightly, hearing that you took his enhanced smell into consideration. "Do...do you need help?" He asked sort of bashfully. He took the bowl from your hand gently and mixed the dye with the brush. He cringed slightly from the smell, but he was ready to push through it to help you.

"Could you get the back for me? I don't think I got all of it" you turned around and showed him the back of your head and he bit back a laugh when he saw you missed a section of hair.

"Yeah, I got it, baby." he just told himself that he was painting... sort of? He really didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't want to mess up, so he just really lathered the dye on your hair and tried to not get it all over your skin. When he was done, he set the bowl down and tapped your shoulders, "Okay, I think I'm done now what?" You explained that you needed to set a timer and that you'd wash it out after it goes off. He nods and sets the timer for you.

He likes to think he is a patient man after living all of his years, but those 30 minutes felt like 30 years. Once the timer finally went off, he helped you wash your hair and watched as you dried and styled it. He was always excited to see how you ended up doing your hair but this time he was even more excited to see how it turned out and once you showed him how it turned out he couldn't help but feel pride knowing he was the one who helped you.

Taglist:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi being a nervous wreck for your guys first date.

He doesn't even know how he managed to get you to say yes to his shitty proposal. It all went wrong, but, as always, you made the wrong seem right and did the unthinkable: you agreed to going on a date with him.

This date needed to go perfectly. He can't mess this opportunity up. You were going to see how he's the perfect boyfriend for you, both gentle and funny, and accept his "proposal" when he asked the awaited question: "Do you want to be my girlfriend?".

I mean, c'mon, going on a date with a girl can't be that hard, right...? Well, for Isagi it sure was. Because it wasn't just a girl. It was you. And that thought alone made him feel like he might faint on the spot.

And so, the week preceding your date with him, Yoichi is planning everything meticulously. He needed every help he could get.

And who is better to help him than his friends?

7 days before the date.

"No, no!" Isagi screamed "She wouldn't act like that! You're not helping at all, Nagi."

"I wanna sleep." Seishiro said, removing the phone that he was holding in front of his face with your picture on it "Why does it have to be with me and in my room? Can't you practice in front of a mirror or something?"

"It doesn't feel the same!" Isagi huffed, running his hands through his hair "Just one more time. Remember, I helped you hide from Barou when he chased after you for wetting the bed with your hair, and you said you owned me one. Therefore, you're repaying me and can't run away from this."

"Okay then" Nagi snored, and put the phone with your photo in front of his face again

"Try to get her personality right this time" Isagi rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper with his speech. The moment he looked at your face, he blushed hard. Boy, he was so head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. "Hey! How are you today? Hope you're doing fine!" Okay, great start. I didn't stutter. This is going to be perfect.

"Hello Yoichi-kun. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How about you." Nagi said monotonously while reading his own paper with the phrases he was supposed to say. It was actually kinda funny how he said this without any emotion.

"I was doing well, but I'm feeling e-even better now that you're here!" Yoichi said and shot Nagi finger guns while showing a strained smile. "So, where do you wanna sit--"

"Nagi! I bought you some lemon tea!!--"

"REO! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING." Isagi said while his cheeks burned with a red so bright you could amost see smoke coming out his ears.

"Isagi. What the actual fuck--"

6 days before the date.

"I'm surprised you even decided to help me" Yoichi said while looking at a menu

"It's out of pity" Reo, who was sitting in front of him, said "You are helpless. But I'm gonna help you make her have the best date of her life" he smirked

Doing a signal with his hands, Reo called his driver, who parked the car right in front of their table.

"Okay. Now, get into the car."

"Uh... where are we going?? I thought you told me to meet you here so we could practice how I would act."

"And that's exactly what we're gonna do. Just get into the car, don't you trust me?"

'No I don't' Isagi thought, but he didn't say anything. He stepped into the car, obtaining a smirk from Reo, who also entered the vehicle.

"See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" His smirk widened, but soon disappeared when Mikage put on a serious face "Now, pretend I'm her. Here's the situation: we just got to the place of the date and we're about to leave the car. What do you do?"

"I... open the car door, get out and close it right after."

"Wrong. You open the car door, get out, hold it for her so she can also exit and then close it. Geez, this is going to be harder than I thought." Reo sighed "Now, let's practice. Do what I just told you"

Isagi nodded. He then opened the door, got out of the car and held it open so Reo could also exit.

Just when he thought it was all going well, a bee landed on his nose. Desperate to scare the insect, he started to shake his hands in front of his nose

"Shoo! Shoo!"

"OUCH!"

"Oh shit." The same hand he was using to scare the bee away was also the hand he was previously using to hold the car door. And his hand couldn't do 2 things at the same time. So, when he released the door, it strongly hit Reo's face.

"Shit. Reo, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, but it's not because of me" Reo made an angry face while rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry for your date. Let's try again. Do it properly this time."

With a sigh, Isagi entered the car again.

5 days before the date.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I need your help, Otoya." Yoichi said and swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would be a punch to his ego, but it needed to be done. "I'm a disaster! When I was training with Reo, I spilled coffe on him, the car door hit his face and I made him fall when I pulled the chair so he could sit on it. And I know you talk to a lot of girls, so you must know what to do."

"You came to the right place, dude." Otoya smirked and held open his shared dorm's door "Fear not, me and Tabito are going to help you get that girl."

Okay. When he said they'd "help him make you fall for him", he didn't imagine it meant watching Otoya flirting with Karasu wearing a wig for 10 minutes straight.

"Did you take notes?" Eita asked

"Yeah, I did" Isagi bashfully answered while holding up the little notebook he had in hand, which was full of notes about Otoya's advices on how to "step up his game".

"Okay, now it's your turn." The ninja said, seating down

"W-what? I didn't know I would also have to flirt with Karasu"

"It's for practice only! And you just have to pretend it's not me" Tabito answered, and then made a high pitched voice "I'm the girl you like!" He battered his eyelashes and put his hands together.

"S-sure..." Yoichi said, getting up "Okay so... uhm... how do I start?"

"Tell her a pick up line"

"Any?"

"Any."

"...do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper." followed by finger guns.

The silence in the room was almost papable. Otoya and Karasu exchanged looks. Isagi was sweating. Karasu and Otoya locked gazes again. And then all of a sudden...

They began to laugh. Hard.

"Oh shit..." Karasu said, wiping away a tear from his eyes "This was so bad!"

"I know, right?" Otoya agreed "He did the finger guns and all that"

"W-what?! Was it that bad??"

"The worst I've ever seen. I wish i had recorded it"

"Nah, don't worry. I did, it's right here."

"KARASU, DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW."

4 day before the date

"Okay..." Chigiri said, analysing Isagi's hair "Based on the shape of your head, we could do a buzzcut. Ladies like it."

"You're sure you know how to cut people's hair right?" Isagi asked nervously

"Yeah I do. Just sit back, relax and let me do my thing"

With a sigh, Isagi sat down on a chair in his room, patting his pants with his hands

"It's just that this week has been absolute hell for me! I screw everything up everytime I try to practice for my date! The way things are going, she's going to hate it! I'm actually so scared right now you have no idea"

"I didn't remember telling you I could be your therapist" Chigiri smirked (what's with his friends always smirking at him??) "But if I coukd give my input in this, I'd say you just need to be yourself. Don't try to change. You're a nice guy, I'm sure she'll like the date"

"That... actually helped. Thank you Chigiri."

"You're welcome."

Wow. Things were going great for once. Nothing bad had happened! Maybe it meant that his luck was back, and the date was going to actually go as planeed!

"Uhm... Chigiri. There's hair in my nose"

"Just brush it off"

"I'm scared to move"

"Why? Just take it off"

"If I don't move, nothing can go wrong"

"Ugh, I'll take it off for you, you traumatized coward"

Yoichi discovered something today: his nose is very sensible. He just wishes he had discovered it in a different way.

*ATCHOO*

"Fuck."

"What? Is it over?"

"I'm done here. I did my work." Chigiri said in a hurry, packing his things quickly and then leaving. But before he stepped out the door, he shouted "I'd suggest you look at the mirror" he then smiled worriedly and shut the door

"Look in the mirror? What does he even mean...?"

When Isagi saw the hole in his hair, he let out a scream the whole neighbourhood heard.

The third day before the date was spent solving the hair issue

2 days before the date

"I don't have clothes."

"What do you mean you don't have clothes? What about all of these T-shirts on the floor?"

"None of them are good enough!" Isagi shouted

"I think you're too worried about this date" Hiori commented "Everything will go just fine, don't worry"

"Yeah! You just have to act as yourself!" Bachira added "If she accepted to go out with you, it means she already likes you, even if just a little!"

"I don't know, I think I might just cancel it. I think I'm too plain and boring for her?? I don't really know it anymore, man."

"There's NO WAY you're going to cancel it" Hiori said. With a jump, he got up from Isagi's bed, held his shoulders ans shook them while he spoke to him "Listen here tou little shit: I will NOT tolerate your endless rambling about her anymore. You finally got a date with her and want to throw it all away because of some senseless insecurity?? She accepted because she already likes you, Isagi. You don't need a whole new personality, new looks or anything. Just go as yourself. I can't take you talking about how you wish you were her boyfriend and all the things you want to do with her. Just grow a pair of balls and go to that date, goddamit!"

A gentle silence settled on the room

"He's right, you know?" Bachira broke the silence, unusually serious "You don't need to be Otoya, Reo or Karasu to make her like you. Just do what you'd normally do. I'm sure she'll like it"

"I think you guys are right" Isagi said, smiling "I'll just be myself!" He looked at the air and clenched his fist, doing a celebration and determined pose.

"Yeah!" Bachira hyped him up "That's the spirit! "

"Just drop the finger guns please" Hiori joked

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY FINGER GUNS??"

The day of the date.

He wasn't as nervous anymore. The talk with Hiori and Bachira really did help him, after all. He was actually determined.

You both were going to enjoy the date. He would make sure of it.

"Wow. You look beautiful" Isagi said, looking you up and down when he saw you at the restaurant. Turns out Reo's lesson was useless, since you both didn't share a car together.

"Thank you!" You said, giggling "You also look very handsome if I do say so myself!"

Isagi reached for the hand that was behind his back and pulled out a red rose

"For me?" You smiled, grabbed the rose and sniffled it. And oh, how he wished you'd smile only at him for the rest of his and your life. It made him feel even better knowing that he was the one who made you smile so brightly

He gently grabbed the flower from your hands and put it in your hair, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in the process, careful to not let the thorns prickle you. He then smiled and grabbed your hands, looking you straight in the eye

"It reminded me of you, since you're both pretty"

Old habits die hard, they say. And so, even though everyone told him not to do it, he did it. The finger guns.

"I-it was cringy, wasn't it?" He said, nervous, when he saw you laughing at his (pathetic) attempt at flirting

"No it wasn't. I think it's kinda cute, actually" you linked both your arms together and smiled at him again (damn woman, did you want to kill him?) "Now let's go have the best date ever!"

You were perfect. And so, when you both entered the restaurant, there was only three things on Isagi's head, and he would make sure that all of them were going to happen.

Be yourself.

Enjoy.

Make her smile.

And so, you both went inside the restaurant, ready for fun and not knowing you'd get out with a new title that you would both proudly wear: "boyfriend and girlfriend".

~ A/N: Not proofread!! Also, I actually hate this sm omg

[minminbunny]

Stalker X Stalker AU - Manipulative! Kim Seungmin/Stockholm Syndrome Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

You sighed, scrolling through your messages. It seems like months since any of your friends checked up on you. Every single message was getting read, but they weren't replying. You chewed on your bottom lip. Anxiety filling your thoughts for the past week at the possibility of not being needed anymore. You tried to call, but it instantly went to voicemail. Your finger hovered above a number, one you knew would pick up.

The phones rang, his name etched on your screen, "Hello, sweetheart," he said, waiting for your call. You gulped, "Hey, Min. Are you free tonight?" you asked, fidgeting with your fingers. Seungmin chuckled, "I'm free anytime you need me. Do you want me over, precious? I can bring your favourite snacks," he suggested, licking his lips at the thought of seeing you. "If you don't mind," you murmured, scared of losing the only person left in your life.

Seungmin cooed, "Don't worry too much, sweetheart. I'll be there," he said, hanging up the call. You gulped, calling your friends once more, a slither of hope left in your heart. The phone call instantly got sent to voicemail once again. Your lips wobbled at the distressing realization, 'Did I do something wrong?' 'Was I too hyper?' 'Was I too quiet?' You thought, your head spiralling at the infinite of assumptions.

You sniffled, waiting for Seungmin to help distract you from the heavy ache in your chest. You curled up and hugged your pillow close, "Hurry," you whispered, hoping for Seungmin to arrive quickly. The front door opened, and you perked up, "What took you so long?" You sniffled, going towards him. Seungmin stroked your hair, "Aww, did you miss me that much, precious? I bought your snacks and candy," he chuckled, giving you a firm squeeze.

You snuggled into his hold, "I don't know what's happening, Min. No one is answering my texts or my calls. It's like my number went out of service, but for some reason, I can contact you. I really don't know what to do," you sniffled, clinging onto his shirt. Seungmin held you close, a smug grin etched on his lips, "You poor little thing, you shouldn't have to feel neglected. If I'm the only number that works then call me or text me as often as you want, sweetheart," he said, tucking his chin over your head just so that you don't notice his sinister smirk.

You shrunk into yourself, "Wouldn't I be a bother? I don't want to burden you with the responsibility of picking up my calls," you murmured, tilting your head to rest your ear against his heart. Seungmin cooed, rubbing your shoulders, "It would be an honour, precious. I appreciate every call and text you send. Don't think too much about it," he whispered, rocking you in his arms. You sighed in relief, "Thank you, Seung," you whispered, melting in his hold.

Months go by, and your hope of your friends contacting you back slowly dwindles over time. Your days were filled with hobbies, work or school, and Seungmin. It started as an appreciation. You were thankful that he came through during your time of need. Then he started being more involved in your life. More inclusive in what you do. Every call, every text would be for him.

Every stroke of your hands grazing yourself during pent-up times would be of him. Every lustful imagination that makes your underwear messy would be of him. You didn't know if you were just horny from convenience or because you genuinely had feelings for him. You always felt Seungmin distance himself from you when you cuddled up on the couch. It was like he was hesitating or borderline uncomfortable.

You didn't want to scare him away. He was all you had. He was all you needed. He can't leave you now. He's everything. You rocked your hips on your pillow, lust, and haze, coaxing your mind from the sheer desperation you feel for him. You wanted his hands on your shoulders, tummy, chest, crotch, and legs. You needed him everywhere.

"Hah, ah, Seungmin, mmh, hah," you moaned, sweat beading your forehead as you rut your hips against the fluffy pillow. Your slick stained the casing without resistance. Your lust fogged your brain so much that you didn't even notice the man of your infatuation standing right before you. Seungmin covered his mouth with his hand, a crazed smile etched on his face. It worked, and his deliberate and insane plan worked.

He chuckled, startling you out of your haze. Your breath hitched, "Min, I can explain," you said, terrified of losing him. Seungmin crossed his arms, "What's there to explain, sweetheart. You were rutting your little pillow, moaning my name," he said, gently reaching out to brush your hair back. You gulped, staring up at him with guilt and pity, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you sniffled, leaning into his touch.

Seungmin cooed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, "You need me, don't you? I've seen how hard you clutch your plush every night. I've seen how you crave warmth, my dear. I'm right here to provide, I can give you everyone you desire. All you have to do is be mine," he whispered, his voice tempting and husky.

You nodded vigorously, gripping his shirt, "You want me, you actually want me? I can be yours, I'll be good. I journaled everything you gave me. Please love me. I'll give in, just don't leave," you rambled, burying your face into his torso. Seungmin brushed his finger below your chin and tilted it upwards, "You, my sweetheart. Are never going to be alone ever again," he chuckled, stroking your cheek.

NFSW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Did I tell you to stop," Seungmjn growled, pumping his cock within his fist. The crude squelching sent shivers straight to your pulsing cunt. You mewled, stretching your tight searing cunt open with a glass dildo. The sight was mind numbing. Seungmin groaned, stroking his cock in sync with your thrusts, "Keep going, sweetheart. Don't stop until you come," he grunted, watching your thighs quiver from the constant pleasure assaulting your cunt.

You angled the dildo, letting the tip pound against your sensitive bundles of nerves as you teased your puffy clit with your nails. The swollen gland barely gotten any stimulation but it was just enough for you to orgasm. Seungmin groaned, gripping the base of his cock as your body spasmed through your climax. Your cunt fluttered around the glass dildo, hot puffs of steam surrounded your warm hole.

Seungmin chuckled, standing up to slap his shaft between your folds, "Good girl. Your moans are so precious, sweetheart," he said, rubbing your trembling inner thighs. You clenched around the dildo, tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. Seungmin hooked his arms under your legs. He placed them both on his left shoulder, "So wet and messy. I don't even need lube to thrust between your thighs," he growled, easily bucking his hips between your supple flesh.

His cock felt so good against you. The constant friction plus the glass dildo cooling within your searing ribbed walls made your mind spin. Seungmin bit his bottom lip, his thrusts relentless and rough. You whimpered as his testicle slapped against your clit with every thrust, "Close, close, hah," you mewled, clawing the sheets below. Seungmin bit your calves, marking them as he used your thighs to his own pleasure, "Cum for me, be a good girl and cum," he growled, pounding between your thighs.

You cried out whenever his hips smacked against your thighs. The pain and pleasure drew you over the edge with a broken sob. Seungmin sucked in through his teeth, coating your torso white with his orgasm. He licked down your calves, his lips never leaving your skin, "There's no going back now, sweetheart. You're only for me," he chuckled, staring down at your blissed out face with a prideful smirk.

AMAB

"Did I tell you to stop," Seungmin growled, pumping his cock within his fist. The crude squelching sent shivers straight to your pulsing cock. You mewled, stretching your tight searing hole open with a glass dildo. The sight was mind numbing. Seungmin groaned, stroking his cock in sync with your thrusts, "Keep going, sweetheart. Don't stop until you come," he grunted, watching your thighs quiver from the constant pleasure assaulting your hole.

You angled the dildo, letting the tip pound against your sensitive bundles of nerves as you teased your puffy cockhead with your nails. The swollen gland barely gotten any stimulation but it was just enough for you to orgasm. Seungmin groaned, gripping the base of his cock as your body spasmed through your climax. Your hole fluttered around the glass dildo, hot puffs of steam surrounded your warm hole.

Seungmin chuckled, standing up to slap his shaft against yours , "Good boy. Your moans are so precious, sweetheart," he said, rubbing your trembling inner thighs. You clenched around the dildo, tears of pleasure streaking down your cheeks. Seungmin hooked his arms under your legs. He placed them both on his left shoulder, "So wet and messy. I don't even need lube to thrust between your thighs," he growled, easily bucking his hips between your supple flesh.

His cock felt so good against you. The constant friction plus the glass dildo cooling within your searing ribbed walls made your mind spin. Seungmin bit his bottom lip, his thrusts relentless and rough. You whimpered as his testicle slapped against yours with every thrust, "Close, close, hah," you mewled, clawing the sheets below. Seungmin bit your calves, marking them as he used your thighs to his own pleasure, "Cum for me, be a good boy and cum," he growled, pounding between your thighs.

You cried out whenever his hips smacked against your thighs. The pain and pleasure drew you over the edge with a broken sob. Seungmin sucked in through his teeth, coating your torso white with his orgasm. He licked down your calves, his lips never leaving your skin, "There's no going back now, sweetheart. You're only for me," he chuckled, staring down at your blissed out face with a prideful smirk.

[frogs00]

Hello:) can I request Regina or Janis x reader angst fic?

Reader avoids their partner because they’re struggling with stress from schoolwork or home stuff etc and uses restriction to cope. But partner finds out and confront reader so reader hesitantly admits it to their partner and they try to help

Tears

Summary: The request but worse

Warnings: Child/Domestic abuse, reader's home life sucks, Regina and Reader have daddy issues, depressing thought, alcohol abuse. Reader's discretion is advised. (Let me know if I missed anything)

Pairing: Regina George x reader

"Call you on the phone, you just tell me not to go. Baby, I don't want to be alone anymore."

"What the hell is wrong with you? " Your father screamed in your ear, right in your ear, waving the piece of paper in your face, "A 'C+'? On a math test? You're pathetic, if you don't get your grades up you'll fucking regret it.”

He shoved the paper back into your arms, and you held it to your chest with shaking hands, worried about what he might mean. It wouldn’t be the first time he had threatened you. Tears dripped onto the paper and you squinted your eyes shut, trying to blink your vision into focus.

You looked up after a moment and his hand was raised, and the next thing you knew the back of his hand connected with your face.

—

Your weekend was filled with studying. You always struggled with focus and motivation, but he threatened you. Threatened to take away the only thing keeping you here. Eyes never leaving the textbook, writing notes till your hand cramped, you ground your teeth. You were drained, so drained.

Bags had formed under your eyes, and you'd hardly eaten. You dreaded Monday. You didn’t want to face anyone, and why would you? Why would they want to face you back?

It was an awakening of the rudest sort, realizing that in the end, the only person that you have is yourself. You’ve been hearing this phrase all of my life, and sure you had Regina and you had your friends. But that all just had to be temporary? Because why would Regina George want a fuck up like you?

What was the permanent? The facts.

The fact that you weren’t worthy. The statistics didn’t lie, and your last test said you were nothing but average. You tried so hard on that test, and yet you still scored average. And did you hate it? Yes, with every fiber in your being. Who wouldn’t hate the feeling? The way your father treated you and how your mother did nothing to stop it. You couldn’t blame her, he scared you, and hurt you to the point you felt unsafe in your room.

But you had to push through if you wanted to accomplish your goals, your dreams, that aching need to escape the house you were raised in.

Snap goes the pencil in your hand, you hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding it. You let go of it with a shaky hand, and the splintered piece of wood and graphite fell on the desk. Tears stained your cheek and you let your face fall into your hand.

But, oh god, was It getting to a point where you had to ask yourself if the dream had become a nightmare.

—

Monday had arrived, you were tired, so fucking tired. Still, you had to try and make that less obvious. How did you do that? Avoid. You had practically mastered the art of ducking and dodging people around you, and it’s not like you felt they’d miss you.

Or maybe you had just gaslighted yourself into thinking that because it scared you to be loved and cared for. You couldn’t handle that… it was too much. It was all too much.

You walked the hall with your eyes downcast, backpack slung rather uncomfortably on your shoulder. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want your girlfriend, lying if you said your head wasn’t pounding, and lying if anyone bothered to ask if you were okay. Sucks to suck I guess.

You had been lost in thought as you turned the corner, bumping into someone. Thankfully, or maybe so so thankfully, it was Cady, “Sorry- Oh, it’s you! Hey, y/n, I’ve hardly heard from you all day,” she laughed then proceeded to eye you skeptically, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” You responded, putting on your best fake smile. It seemed to fool her, at least a little, because she asked if you were sure, when you nodded she then bid you goodbye and skipped away. She was always so happy, it almost made you jealous.

So I guess I’m a liar now. You thought as you darted into your class. You sat down in your seat and fought the urge to nod off, it was almost comical the fact that you already knew everything this particular teacher was talking about, at least the studying paid off, even if you were facing major burnout.

Class dragged on— Honestly, everything did; From how you pulled yourself out of your chair— to how you dragged yourself through the halls. Life was a drag.

Before you knew it, the day passed in a blur, and you were on your walk home.

—

The next day wasn’t that much different from the last. A foggy haze of numbness and meaningless conversations.

Well, mostly meaningless. During the passing period, your last one of the day, you were switching out your book from your locker when your girlfriend approached you.

“Y/n…” Regina's voice was a whisper, your throat clenched. She sounded worried. You hated that she sounded worried, because if Regina George was worried about you, then that meant you couldn’t wallow in that self-pity you made your home.

“Yeah?” You asked after clearing your throat, you didn’t force a smile though. She’d tell it was fake.

“I’m worried about you, you’re quiet. Did I like…do something? Or some shit.” She asked, her tone growing a bit irritated as she reached the last part, but that was just how she was. You knew it still came from a place of worry, in fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that irritation was aimed towards herself. Just because you knew that didn’t mean it felt like it.

“No, Regina, you didn’t. I’m fine, just tired.” You shook your head, avoiding her gaze as you shut your locker. Lies, lies, and more lies. Well, you were tired, but that wasn’t just it. You and her both knew that.

“Baby, come on. Tell me what’s wrong,” Regina coaxed, her tone increasing as she spoke, making her sound angry. She was anxious, though, you could tell. Neither of you was great with emotions.

“Stop. I said I’m fine, leave it alone,” You snapped, turning your back on her, “You’re so pushy, god.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a fan of watching the ones closest to me drift away!” She snapped right back, just like you knew she would. The perfect excuse to walk away… or retort her.

“I’m not your dad, Regina. I have a couple of bad days doesn’t mean I’m going to up and leave, okay? So stop acting like this is the end of the world.” You seethed, grinding your teeth. You glanced at her just in time to see her flinch, a wave of nausea and guilt washed over you.

“Wow.” Regina scoffed, collecting herself, “That was so unnecessary. I was just worried, and you…” She shook her head, you should see her tense, the ways she drew in a breath. She was trying.

You turned around to fully meet her gaze, and you could feel your eyes watering, “I’m sorry, I am,” You whispered, her face softened a bit, “I…I’m just stressed, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Regina agreed, “It’s fine, I get it, or whatever.” You both stood there for a while, just staring at one another.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated.

“I know.” More silence followed, til she said, “Do you need a hug?” you smiled a bit, the first time in a while. You nodded softly and she wrapped her arms around you. You breathed in deeply, her vanilla and coconut shampoo soothed your mind if only for a moment. Maybe you’d find the strength to talk to her, but not now, you just let yourself be held and pushed through.

You both pulled away when the warning bell rang, and you left it at that.

—

You were home, or you were at your house. This place didn’t feel like home, not at all, not ever.

You were unpleasantly surprised to find your father sitting on the porch, beer in hand and lead tilted back. He was drunk, you could tell just from the sight of him, and it made your stomach churn. He could be so violent when drunk. You swallowed your fear and clutched the strap of your backpack, slowly approaching.

A silent caution always lingered when you interacted with him, always. That was unchanging even as he stopped you.

“Why are you home so late?” He slurred, glowering at you then pushing himself off the wooden chair he spent most of his day.

“I had to walk, Dad, the bus doesn’t run that way on Mondays,” You explained calmly, and he nodded. Your gaze flickered around and you noted that your little sister's shoes weren’t on the shoe rack, “Where is Ashley?”

His expression turned sour, “She’s at some friend's house, on a school night. A load of bullshit! Me and your mom got into it because of her, because of you dumb ass kids,” he growled, “Why do you care, anyways, huh?” He took a step towards you, and the acrid smell of both alcohol and cigarettes hit your nose, you grimaced.

“She’s my sister, of course, I care-” You started but cut off as you watched his irritation grow. You could see it in his body language, hands curling into fists.

“God, you kids are so fucking useless! You should be studying, you hear me? The least a mistake like you could do.” he grabbed your shirt and tugged you towards him, and your heart pounded.

His voice was heavily slurred and his eyes were wide and wild, breath hot on your face. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t do this another day, and pushed him off of you then sprinted the other way.

He trampled after you to the edge of the yard, but he didn’t give chase, too intoxicated and not caring enough.

You were so tired of running, what exactly were you running to? You’re tired, tired of all this escaping. It reminds you of that part in all the horror movies, the ones where the characters are running for their lives. Because ‘It’s all so beautiful’ or ‘lf is worth living’, and shit. Well, maybe it was to them. But, god, was it a whole lot of hell for you right now.

Two blocks down, you stopped, panting. You sat down on the curb and placed your head in your hands. You pulled out your phone, lucky it wasn’t dead.

You called Regina. I mean who else would you call?

After two rings she answered, “Regina?”

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, feeling those tears you’ve been holding back slip from the corners of your eyes, “Can you pick me up? My dad…” you trailed off, voice shaking.

“Your dad? Yeah, I’ve heard enough. I’m on my way,” you heard rustling over the phone, a jingle of keys, then her voice asking, “Where are you?”

“I’ll drop a pin,” you looked over your head, grey clouds were rolling in, and you just hoped it didn’t start raining before she got here, “thank you.”

“Of course.” she softly said into the phone, then hung up.

You sat there by yourself, a wind chilling you to the bones. You didn’t like the wind, never had. It flushed your face and made your hair a mess, but you liked the smell it brought in, the damp smell of leaves and coming rainfall, it was all so refreshing in a way you couldn’t place. You wish you could appreciate it more, but that was hard with tears rolling down your cheek still, adding to the icy feeling.

You wiped the tears away with the sleeve of your sweater, staring at the pavement. You hardly registered Regina’s mom's car pulling up, but you did register the footsteps approaching, lifting your head.

“Baby, oh god, are you okay?” She gasped out the question, looking you over and pulling you to your feet. You felt something wet hit your head and you looked up, not answering her question.

It was raining.

“Baby?” She repeated a concerned expression on her face.

“Yes, sorry. I’m okay. He didn’t hit me…right now at least.” You and she pulled you into a hug and then towards the car, she must not have brought the Jeep because she actually checked the weather.

You both got into the car quickly. You closed your eyes, she didn’t ask any more questions. She knew better than to ask right away, it was better to let you settle in. You leaned against the cold window of the car, your breath foging the glass, watching the downpour and the water streaking down the glass.

You liked the rain, you did. You liked the way it filled the world with white noise, it was soothing. You liked to run around in it with your arm spread out and head pointed at the sky. You enjoyed the things that came with the rain too. You like gray and wet and rhythmically noisy, you liked hiding under cozy blankets.

You were so lost in your thoughts, that when you felt a warm hand brush yours, you flinched. You turned your head, looking at Regina who was staring at you curiously. You intertwine your and the blonde's fingers together wordlessly.

“You’re cold, feel okay?” She asked and you nodded, you didn’t want to talk. You turned to stare at the red light that shined through the gloom.

You glanced back at her, she was still staring so you asked, “What?”

“Nothing, you always just look so thoughtful, I guess.” She shrugged, then stepped on the gas.

Sooner than later you two arrived at her house, you both were quiet when you two got back, Regina went straight to the kitchen and you sat down on the couch inhaling and exhaling slowly. Minutes late she returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. You gave her a tired, grateful smile. She smiled back.

You both sipped at your drinks quietly, it wasn’t awkward necessarily but you could tell she was itching to ask questions, so you turned to her.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For this, I know I’m a mess. My dad is a huge ass and it’s physically and mentally killing me,” You trailed off, swallowing thickly, “Still, I feel like It’s all my fault, I don’t know why I do this. I’m not used to this, to being loved. It’s hard to accept; it scares me so badly. It terrifies me and I run away.” It was easier that way, but you didn’t say that.

Regina sighed, setting down her mug then grabbing and clutching your hand, “It’s okay, I know. Dads can be pretty shitty. Yours is, mine is. But it’s not your fault. It isn’t, y/n,” she shook her head, “Avoiding others isn’t helping, though. I get it, trust me, I’m the queen of avoiding my problems. Hell! I avoided the truth I was gay for years, but I’m trying. We both are.”

You started crying again, it was hard to hold it in, “Thank you…” you breathed, “I don’t deserve you-”

Regina smiled a bit, “Don’t say that, it’s bullshit,” she rolled her eyes, then softened, “You have people in your corner, okay? You don’t have to do everything alone. We can both work on that.” She pulled you into a hug, you cried softly into her. Damn, did it feel good to get out, to be held.

You both remained like that for a while till she asked you if you wanted to shower, you agreed pretty quickly considering it was still pouring. You took a shower together.

You got comfortable at Regina’s side, rubbing circles in her lower back, “Your back okay? I know it can get achy when it rains.” you whispered, gazing into her blue eyes.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Regina shrugged, then yawned, “I kind of like the rain, actually. Not getting wet though, that’s disgusting.” she mused but didn’t elaborate further.

You let out a soft laugh at the sour face she made, Regina hated getting wet, unlike you, “Me too.” You smiled. You both lay in each other's arms, listening to the rain and wishing it would stay longer. The sound seemed to drown out all of your problems, or maybe just laying beside her made it all fade away.

A/N: Kinda proud of this one even though it took me forever

[writeriguess]

hello! i love your works thank you for that 🙂‍↕️

can you do pro!hero dynamite and reader whose also a pro!hero but they’re undercover so he doesn’t know? can be angsty fluff i just live for a good spy moment 💕

The city was a mess, crumbling beneath the weight of a villainous plot threatening to blow apart the fragile peace. Katsuki Bakugou, or as the world knew him, Dynamight, stomped through the broken streets, his eyes sharp as flint. Every crackle of his palms sent up tiny sparks, a reflection of the restless anger simmering within.

He didn’t like it—this mission. Not the fact that the villain had slipped through his fingers, nor that he was now working with a partner he didn’t know. The person had shown up out of nowhere, masked, with no name, only a vague promise that they were on his side. The Commission said they were a pro hero, but Katsuki wasn’t so easily convinced.

Where the hell were they? He scowled, kicking a broken piece of pavement out of his way.

“You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer if you keep that up, Dynamight.”

His head snapped to the side, eyes narrowing at the figure who appeared out of the shadows like they belonged there. A sleek black outfit, tactical and form-fitting, clung to their body—nothing about them screamed ‘hero.’ They were dressed more like a villain. The only thing that set them apart was the small emblem on their arm, hidden in the folds of their gear.

“Where’ve you been?” he growled. “I don’t have time for games.”

“I wasn’t playing,” they replied coolly, pulling down the mask just enough to smirk. “I was gathering intel. Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “Tch, don’t act smart with me. If we don’t find this bastard, the whole city’s gonna burn.”

“Funny, coming from you,” they teased, falling into step beside him.

He shot them a sharp glance but said nothing more. They weren’t wrong. His hands were practically itching to blow something up, and that wasn’t helping the tension in his shoulders. He needed to stay focused. For the mission.

The two moved through the city in silence, their pace quick as they made their way toward the villain’s last known location. All the while, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this person. They moved too smoothly, too confidently, like they already knew the lay of the land. And when they fought, it wasn’t just with skill but with a kind of familiarity that made him pause.

It wasn’t until they reached the hideout, tucked away in the decaying underbelly of the city, that Bakugou’s suspicions flared. The villain was there, surrounded by henchmen, but the way his partner tensed beside him, the way their breath hitched ever so slightly—

It was as if they recognized him.

“Knew you’d show up,” the villain sneered, eyes gleaming with malice. “But didn’t think you’d bring her.”

Bakugou’s heart stopped.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped, glancing at his partner. They were frozen, their mask pulled low over their face, but something in the air shifted.

The villain laughed, dark and amused. “Oh, this is rich. She didn’t tell you, did she? Your partner here isn’t just some random hero. She’s been working undercover. Bet you didn’t even know she was right under your nose.”

“What—”

Before he could process what was happening, his partner ripped off their mask, revealing your face—someone Bakugou had known for years, fought beside countless times, trusted more than anyone else. But here you were, dressed in a disguise, with secrets between you so thick he could barely breathe.

“You…” Bakugou’s voice was hoarse, strangled. “You’ve been… what the hell is going on?!”

Your eyes met his, regret flickering there, but determination too. “I couldn’t tell you, Katsuki. It wasn’t safe.”

“Wasn’t safe?” His voice cracked with barely restrained fury. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time! I thought—”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you interrupted, stepping toward him. “If you knew, if anyone knew, the mission would’ve been compromised. I was trying to keep you safe.”

The air between you was thick, volatile. The villain’s laughter echoed around you, but neither of you heard it.

“You were supposed to trust me!” Bakugou spat, his hands clenching into fists. “You should’ve—”

“I did,” you whispered. “I always did. But sometimes… sometimes you can’t let someone in. Not when the stakes are this high.”

Bakugou’s breath hitched, his anger warring with the pain that stabbed through his chest. You were right in front of him, yet you’d felt a world away. All this time, you’d been fighting the same battle, but from the shadows, while he’d been left in the dark.

“We’ll talk after,” you said, your voice softer now. “Right now, we’ve got a job to do.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he gave a small nod. The mission came first, as much as it burned. Together, you turned to face the villain, the silent understanding between you an unspoken promise that this wasn’t over.

The fight was brutal. Explosions rocked the hideout as Bakugou unleashed his rage, while you moved with practiced precision, striking with lethal efficiency. But through it all, Bakugou couldn’t stop glancing at you—at the familiar way you fought, the way your eyes flashed with the same fire that burned in his.

When the dust finally settled, the villain was subdued, his threats silenced, and the city saved once more. But the silence that followed was deafening.

Bakugou turned to you, his chest heaving. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, exhaustion weighing down your limbs. “Because I knew you’d try to stop me. And I couldn’t let you do that.”

He ran a hand through his ash-blonde hair, frustration etched into every line of his body. “You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

You smiled, tired but genuine. “Yeah, but you still care.”

He scowled, but it lacked the usual heat. “Shut up.”

Stepping closer, you placed a hand on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry, Katsuki. I didn’t want to lie to you. But I had to.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, eyes scanning your face like he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe, in a way, he was. You were the same person, but you’d been carrying a weight he hadn’t seen.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Just… don’t do it again. Or I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, the sound light despite the tension. “Deal.”

And though there were still things left unsaid, for now, you had each other. That was enough.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[la2yn0va]

Hello Sensei! In celebration of me finally beating Shadow of Feixiao. Can i humbly request some Shadow the hedgehog like male reader x yandere kafka, Robin, Firefly, Black Swan and Feixiao? The reader was not born really. More like made to be the ultimate lifeform. The reader is one of the top strongest in the universe, being soo powerful that he has to wear special bracelets to contains his powers. He has access to chaos magic and has a few more powers that only he can use. The reader is a loner and doesn't trust anyone reader being someone hard to approach

CW: Yandere Characters.

Note: This. Is my favorite request to date. Yes, it’s because of shadow the hedgehog 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Also you disrespectful bastard! Those ‘bracelets’ are called Inhibitor Rings! Respect the lore, damnit!!

——

Feixiao

She first learned about your existence from General Yueyu. Some creation made years ago that was given the title of ‘ultimate life form’

A creation made to perfectly counter all abominations on the xianzhou, someone so powerful it would take an aeon or two too defeat. Or so she said.

To say little feixiao was interested was a major understatement. If this were true, where were you? What ship were you in? Why hasn’t she heard of you anywhere else?

When she asked yueyu this, the general had a face of regret and sadness, before saying the information was classified.

Years later, she met you, the fabled ‘ultimate life form’ was an enemy of the xianzhou. She couldn’t believe it, Yueyu spoke so highly of you, so why’re you an enemy?

And just like general Yueyu said, you were STRONG. Hell, possibly the strongest being in the entire xianzhou and universe.

But, as a general, it was her duty to stop you. So you two fight, and she gets utterly defeated. She’d never known defeat like this, power like yours. Just WHAT were you?

For the next days, every general and the astral express crew, even the marshal of the xianzhou had confronted to stop you, all the generals were forced to play a supporting role, as the marshal was the only one able to deal damage to you.

However, it didn’t matter, your plan had been successful. Inputting 7 ancient gems into the core of the xianzhou and causing it to self destruct while having some biological monster protecting it.

Feixiao couldn’t believe YOU were meant to be the great savior Yueyu talked so highly about. But then, once the gems were entered, a video began to play on everything and anything that had a screen, reveling the dark truth.

Your creator was betrayed, his granddaughter killed by the xianzhou military! And the marshal herself being the one who betrayed the great doctor. Showing long lost and thought to be destroyed footage of the dark incident Hundreds if not thousands of years ago. (Not doing the 50 years ago, cause why not)

It was at the point everyone lost hope. The marshal herself was a traitor to one of the greatest scientists and ally to the xianzhou, even the generals will were shaken. And the astral express couldn’t help but feel sorrow for you.

But, with a powerful speech from the marshal, everyone’s will and hope were restored and the generals, the nameless, large almost unending numbers of cloud knights, and the marshal went down to stop you.

But, the bio-lizard got in their way. It would see its creators plan through the very end. It was a monster, all cloud knights were flies it swatted dead, the generals focusing all their strength to defeat the lizard.

Only feixiao and the marshal were able to get past the impossibly defense of the lizard, who was luckily for them, to distracted to notice. The two ran down the hallway and saw you, watching the fight through a holographic screen.

Feixiao tried to move towards you, but the marshal stopped her before taking a piece of fallen debris and throwing it towards you, seeing an invisible death shield surrounding you.

Marshal: M/n!! Stop this madness!!

M/n:…you’ve got some nerve. To betray my creator, get Maria killed! And lock me away for years upon years!!

Feixiao: Tsk…! M/n, we need you! Please help us!

Feixiao blurted out, much to the shock of the marshal and m/n.

Feixiao: You were made to be the strongest force for the xianzhou!! Why are you so intent on destroying it!!

M/n:….Doesn’t matter. It's all going according to plan. There's no reason for me to help them. Besides, there's no way to save anyone. All of them are unsaveable, pathetic, and childish. Only then will the marshal feel the consequences of her betrayal!

Feixiao: Forget the marshal! Hate her all you want, but not the people of the xianzhou! There innocent! Was this maria’s last wish!? For you to become the enemy! Hated, feared, a boogeyman!?

Marshal:….I know what I’ve done to you is unforgivable. I know that you’ll never forgive me. Even if you kill me, you’ll never forgive me. But the people of the Xianzhou are innocent. I know that people fight over the most trivial things. Some people may be selfish, like the professor said... but they're good, if they try their best and never give up on their wishes. They always have a reason to be happy; that's why you should help them out! Saving them is a good thing! M/n, I beg you, please do it for them! Give them a chance!

The marshal pleaded, bowing to you much to the shock of feixiao. To see the marshal like this was almost… fictionally impossible. However, Feixiao’s words seemed to strike you, as you remembered Maria’s true last words.

M/n:….Maria….

You said as the marshal and feixiao looked up seeing a horrified and saddened realization dawn on you, a single tear falling down from your face, before you forcibly ripped out one of the ancient gems.

M/n: I…I have to stop this! I have to keep my promise to her!!

You declared before using your monstrous strength to rip out all the emeralds and jump down from the platform, running towards the biolizard.

The biolizard stopped its killing blow on Yanqing and March as it felt a shift. Something had changed, the xianzhou wasn’t shaking… you had betrayed your creator!!

The biolizard released a horrific shriek of rage, shaking the very soul of everyone who heard it. The lizard turned to see you running towards it with the chaos emeralds, as you focused on your sadness, Maria, the professor, and your promise to her—turning super.

Everyone could only watch as the lizard and you fought, each impact shaking the universe itself. A beautiful spectacle infront of them as your speed and strength left them in awe, wondering if your power could rival that of the aeons.

Eventually, the lizard couldn’t contain its rage nor its own existence as you ripped off the machinery that kept it alive, as it expanded, ready to nuke this whole stellar system. But, you saved them, using chaos control to teleport yourself and the lizard away, FAR away. Managing to somehow teleport it to IX itself, having the lizard be swallowed whole by the black hole of the end as it released its final explosion of energy.

—Okay now that the story is over, let’s get to the point of this request—

Your body was blasted away as IX swallowed the biolizard, killing it as its explosion blasted you away. Your body crashed through multiple planets, destroying the rock and any life forms on it before it crashed down onto the xianzhou’s outer ship.

The ship shook and spun horizontally 5 times before stopping. Everyone was confused at what could’ve cause this. The marshal went outside and saw you. You were still alive! After 50 years!?

She took you in and decided to keep your existence a secret for now. She cared for your body until you awoke. After punching the marshal in the face, she began to fill you in on everything that happened after the Great War with you 50 years ago.

Although you’d never forgive her, you needed to keep your promise to Maria. So, you tell her your joining the cloud knights, not to serve her, but to keep maria’s promise.

She agreed and asked what ship you wanted to join. You remembered that foxian/borisin general. Being the first general you fought, and being…unique, you wanted her ship.

Feixiao was then informed of this which shocked her. But, surprisingly, she accepted with what seemed like… joy? Nevertheless, you ran to the yaoqing and met her at the cloud knights headquarters, where she greeted you with friendliness.

Feixiao would have you on the four front of battles, leading a platoon, but you declined. You refused to work with anyone and you would only work alone.

Feixiao felt a little pang hit her but agreed. You were strong enough anyway, so she allowed it. And over the years, she grew close to you.

The battles and bloodshed you two would spill from the borisin was beautiful, watching as your guard slowly but surely lowered around her, seeing you smile only to her made her feel special.

She keeps you as close as she can. Letting you sleep in her house and bed, cooking for you and even wanting to bathe you. Daily trainings with you at the gym, along with hundreds of spars and competitions a day.

To feixiao, you two were already in a relationship. After all you lived together! And you only smiled at her! Of course you loved her back…!

And since you’re completely distrustful of everyone else, the thought of someone stealing you away was laughable and fictional. It’ll never happen.

So, feixiao never overreacts when someone ogles at you or tries to get close to you. Cause 10/10 times, you’d just teleport away from the area.

Kafka

Kafka heard of you from Elio. Apparently you’re supposed to join the stellaron hunters as its final member.

With the help of Sam, she used her webs to catch you and Sam used his mech suit to slow your pace. Simply trying to stop you from falling took all her strength along with firefly’s mecha suit, which made her even more curious about you.

They’d take you back to their little hideout and nurture you until you wake up. Which would only be a month. You wake up and look around, not recognizing the area around you.

Kafka is there though, and she introduces herself to you, along with the entire deal with the ‘stellaron hunters’

Seeing as it was apparently ‘destiny’ that they saved you, and that this would possibly be the best way to up hold your promise, you accept their invitation.

You go on missions and learn about what’s changed in the cosmos since the battle at the xianzhou. Apparently a lot has changed, but none that you care about.

Kafka slowly begins to become infatuated with you, you were just so adorable. The ‘loner’ demeanor of yours that hid the cutie you were was so addicting to her.

She ain’t afraid to show it. She’s blunt with her desires and romantic at the same time. Oh how your adorable face lights up with a blush due to your emotional inexperience~

Kafka LOVES to dress you up and do your hair. Also, she sleeps in your room with you. She knows you love it despite your cute little struggles.

On missions, kafka takes the time to rub her thighs and tits against you, to show everyone exactly who you belong to.

Kafka likes to puppet you closer to her, making you sit on her lap and bringing you in for a HEAAATED 1 hour make out session. Purposefully leaving lipstick on your lips, chin, jawline, and neck.

Robin

Robin like everyone else, had heard of you. How your power was rumored to rival that of the aeons. At first, she couldn’t believe it, someone so strong existing as a mortal? No way, right?

But then she saw you at the main lobby of penacony. Your appearance matched to what she heard of you, down to your hairstyle and the small details of your clothes.

She was amazed by your beauty, and the fact that you were real. She approached you with Sunday, who had his own interest in you.

You blew them off, not interested in some pop star and her brother. They were slightly put off but decided to chase you, still having some questions of their own.

Inside the actual penacony, robin acts as your tour guide. She doesn’t try to dig into your life, as it’s none of her business. But she does want to stick around you.

Your whole dynamic is her wanting to stick around you, and you trying to get away. Let’s skip to when you two eventually get close enough for others to consider you to in a relationship.

Robin is clingy but will let go of you if you ask, and you never ask her to let go as you don’t want to hurt her feelings.

Sunday, much to his dismay, uses robin to get you closer to him and the family’s goal. He plans to use you to successfully enact his plans.

But, you’re extremely distrustful of him and the family. Something about them is just, off. Sunday and the family grow increasingly annoyed at your intuition.

So, they decide to take you by force. They try to use a smaller type of the Harmonious Choir to make you submit. But you easily destroy the mission and go to kill Sunday, only for Robin to step in, begging you to not hurt her brother.

Your eyes grow feral, robin…. How could you be so stupid!? She was in on this! So, you punch her into her brother, spitting on them and declaring them pathetic and a blight of Xipe before leaving forever.

Robin desperately tried to stop you, make you stay with her, but it was no use. Your mind was made up and you couldn’t care less about penacony, Sunday, the family, or robin.

So with one more punch, you leave penacony forever, and Sunday runs to his sister cursing at himself for his failure and for getting his sister hurt.

Robin wasn’t able to be herself for a full month. How could she? The person she loved had left her and hurt her! And her brother was a catalyst to that.

Sunday desperately tries to make it up to robin, but she just can’t bring herself to forgive him. Why did he try that? Why did her hurt YOU. And she hates herself for it.

She hates how weak she is, not being able to stop you, not being able to clear up the obvious misunderstanding between you and the family/her brother.

So, she leaves penacony. She can’t live with the knowledge that you hate her. She’ll track you down and bring you back to her, even if she has to get in her knees and beg.

Black Swan

Black swan teleported you to her little dimension, watching as you crashed into the ground and made the whole place shake.

She’s so interested in you. Your genetical structure, your story, your memories, and your prowess.

Black swan keeps you with her. As she wants to learn a lot about you. She’s patience, and doesn’t try to read your memories, shockingly.

After all, what would happen to her if she tried to pry the memories out of an…. ‘Aeonling?’ It’s just too risky.

She loves to watch you from a far though. You’re just so adorable. That little ‘loner’ demeanor of yours made you even more of a cutie.

Trying to hide your personality from her made her fall harder for you. Also seeing you try to ‘call out her fraudulent divination’ was cute.

She helps you with your trauma while making you more reliant on her. Making you face your trauma in a healthy manner while also manipulating your memories and putting some memories that never happened into your head.

Such as you two going on dates, playing some games, cuddling. Little did you know, she’d cuddle you everytime you went to sleep.

These memories make you ease up to her much quicker, just as she predicted. She holds you close and hums a lullaby for you, while playing with your hair like Maria did.

Firefly

This one short, cause it’s just like kafka, except she’s much more nervous and reserved as firefly, yet more confident as Sam….

Yes, this is the laziness and tiredness catching up to me…. I’m so sorry. I’m just so tired of this and other shit making my anxiety rise.

[pinkchaosnight]

so here is my adar request. basically in which the fem!reader is taken in ep 5 instead of galadriel. once in adar's tent (during ep 6) they talk and get into a heated discussion about sauron and eregion. their banter gets so intense that glûg walks inside to see if everything is okay and then they both snap at them in union and then glûg whispers something like "oh no, dad and mom are fighting" idk something humorous lol. (excuse my grammar mistakes - English is not my native language). i need tension like air.

omg , tysm for this ask. its absolutely flawless. i enjoyed this ep so much! i have initially thought of doing a small imagine but somehow it turned it into this long, also i diverged from the ask slightly too🥹. i have changed some dialouges and scenarios. i hope you enjoy them!

pull of threads - (adar × fem!reader)

summary: dinner with adar is never straightforward is it? when especially you are captured and essentially sort of a prisoner?

(reimagined rings of power ep 6 where reader gets captured instead of Galadriel)

pairing : adar x female!reader

notes : english is not my first language, so i apologize in advance for the errors you might encounter. i have not properly edited, so please let me know if you find any error.

the uruk leader seated across you is poking his food with a vigour, as he regards you with suspicion. humiliation might be the nicest thing you can describe about what you are feeling right now, (along with some other feelings too but you blatantly ignore them) being captured as a prisoner. you were Lady Galadriel's friend and the her aide, until a few months ago when you retired from your post. everything that was going on was so overwhelming that you had to step away from your duties and that's exactly what you did. you travelled around, mostly staying in woods and forests and praying orcs don't chase you. you almost succeeded too until you recieved a letter from Lady Galadriel stating she needed your help, now that they are going to warn Celebrimbor about Halbrand being Sauron. you were reading her letter without a care for your surrounding that unfortunately resulted in you being captured and brought to the uruk camp. and thats why you were currently in this situation, being seated in front the uruk leader. Adar, he is called, as you recall from the days Lady Galadriel captured him many months ago.

the tent which was made up of dirty rags, was surprisingly warm, with a fireplace and a huge table laden with food. combinations of food that seems almost a disgrace to the plates it hold ; with berries, onions and meat. whoever did the dinner should be tossed into the cliff. the said uruk leader was now biting into a piece of meat from god knows what, as he watches you. if he is hoping to catch something from your expression he has another thing coming for him, as you keep your face as emotionless as you can, although Eru knows for how long.

" from my brief time in your Commander's capture, I guessed she was intent on finding Sauron. almost consumed by the thought of it, one might say." his words sliced the depth of silence that hanged between you and him.

" former Commander. and it is none of your concern what her intentions are. who are you to know her mind? you who could not even resist the allure of Sauron's words?" you reply in a monotonous way, hoping he doesn't find anything there.

Adar stops as he hears those words, as he slowly puts down the piece of food he is chewing. he remembers the first time he saw you; being chained up after being captured by Galadriel. all around him was dark but you came with a jar of water and a loaf of bread for him, when everybody was kind of neglecting him, except for when they needed information and torturing. that simple act of kindess and the conversions that ranged from 'hello' to a simple 'have a good day' that followed from your side warmed what little was left of his beating heart. he remember you being firercely loyal to Galadriel yet having a mind of your own to speak if necessary. he remembers how you disagreed when your commander spoke of his children as slaves. and above all, he remembers how you exuded a sense of warmth in that cold space.

now he looks at you in surprise as he leans forward "former?"

you squirm uncomfortably in your seat. after all, how could you let him know that one of the reasons why you left the army and being her secondin command, was his words? the converstion between him, Lady Galadriel and you, when he was captured really messed up your perceptive. other elves could not see but you saw what he was trying to say; that the uruks were just as worthy of lives and living as other creations of Eru, as each had a heart. you remember disagreeing with Lady Galadriel when she mentioned them as slaves, and Adar's eyes flashing in you direction, with ambiguous emotions.

shaking out of your reverie you say "yes, i am no longer her second in command, so its really useless to have me captured in here. i can offer you nothing. "

adar chuckles at your statement, as he rises from his seat and strides towards you. he stops infront of your chair, as he looks at you with an intense stare. and you couldn't help but stare back at him. those eyes, surrounded by scars and years of mutilation, made your heart ache with pain. you wonder what he was thinking, what he was plotting behind those somber eyes of his. you always wondered what happened to him after you ran away from the campsite that day. you retired and wandered in woods after that incident, with nothing to keep you company but fragments of him in your memory. love and hatred have a fine line separating them; you often heard from your friends and in those lonely nights on the woods you wandered if that is true. if you can cross that line with bravery. something that you are afraid to reveal to anyone. he was the one in your mind and on the other side of that fine line, as swirls of feeling wound up in your heart. a dangerous feeling to have for man who is going to kill you......one day.

"who says you can offer me nothing?" he says as he strides close to your face and tucks a strand of hair back. funny he did that because you had the same thought too, of brushing the loose hair of his and tucking it back. "my children found this in your bag" he says as he pulls out the scroll from a table behind you. "we know the elven army is approaching to find Sauron, in Eregion. And that has all the confirmation i want. and i know Halbrand is Sauron"

desperation washes over you as you see the scroll of paper Lady Galadriel wrote and gave you to read before she parted ways. you never got a chance to read the rest of paper as she and you went seprate ways, before you got caught by his minions.

" whatever your plan is, it is not going to work " you say with venom, as you stand up in anger (or so you thought stubbornly), coming face to face with him.

"do you know what Sauron promised me? " Adar asks you as he studies your expression flits from anger to confusion "children, he promised me children. and he made that promise into weapons of wars, my children mere tools for his gratifications, something which can be eradicated at his whims" he says, his voice a tad quite and flushed with sadness. it took all my willpower to keep my hands from reaching his and comforting him.

" you are going to kill him Eregion, aren't you?" i ask as realisation hits me a few seconds later. he moves back a few paces, widening the tantalizing distance betweeen us and doesn't reply as he keeps his back to me.

" you cannot, i think it is his plan too. i just have feeling in my heart this is exactly what he wants. for you to lead your army to him. we must ask Lady Galadriel's advice" i say as he turns and shoots me a look of disbelief.

"why should i listen to the words of someone whose race is hellbent on eradicating us from the face of this plane?" he shouts as he paces towards you, shaking with anger. "i did not capture you to hear your advice. Eregion will fall and Sauron with it" he says as closes the distance between us, trapping me between the chair and him.

"i want Sauron to fall too, i want to kill him and make sure he is permanently wiped off from this earth. but not in this way." i shriek in his face, which was merely inches apart from mine.

"i do not know why you care if i lead my army or not " he hisses as he moves back from me again, his eyes capturing my own ones in anger and perhaps sadness.

there is a tipping point for everyone's anger and you could feel his words pushing you to yours. you could no longer hold the feelings erupting inside you as you shouts." i care because this will all be ending in blooshed. i care because all my loved ones are going there and i don't want them to die. i care for the lives that will be sacrificed if you chose to follow this foolish plan of yours. and i care that something will happen to you and you will not make it out alive"

reality of the words registers in your brain as soon as the words escape your mouth. you have opened your heart and mouth and let all the dam of emotions you kept inside to turn into a river. and now you are going to suffer the consequences, preferably being submerged in those same waters, which you so kept in binds inside your now erratically beating organ.

Adar was stunned, staring at you in utter silence. his heart tingled, with the same warmth he felt months ago in your presence. his ears has always been the receiver of abuse and bad news, never the object to receive the sentiment with which you uttered the words quite a few seconds ago; words with care...and love. he slowly steps forward you, his hands unclenching from the remnant of his anger and reaching towards your face "you ....care about me.....?" his voice is a mere whisper, tinged with something you couldn't place. this goddess, this beacon of kindness care about him?

you wanted to melt into those eyes of his, that is oh so mysterious and perhaps you would have, if the tents did not flap open suddenly.

" lord father, glûg here. i heard shouts coming from outside. i was worried and just came inside to check if you are okay and if nan--" glûg stops as he sees you standing closely to his lord father. you notice his surprise being replaced with a slight smirk in your direction.

"get out" adar and you both says in unison, as you turn towards the orc in annoyance.

"certainly lord father" glûg says as turns away to exit "just lover's quarrel, lord father and naneth better make up". he exits as quickly as he can, muttering to himself.

you turn your head towards him, only to catch his eyes searching your face "yes i do care about you...." your voice is shaking but not in anger and with some other emotions you tried so hard to bury.

a flicker of emotions passes over his eyes as he glazes his vision over you "you think you are the only one who cares? why did you even think i captured you instead of your Commander, when i could have easily caught her and gotten the information too? why did you think you never encountered any orcs while you were sauntering through the woods? never have you escaped from my mind for a moment from the day we met. i tried so hard to keep every emotions i am feeling, hidden from you. but tonight i can't and i won't. i know i am a monster, an abomination for someone so kind as you. but tonight i am baring the one thing that has not been tainted by the evil , to your hands."

he places your hand on his chest, as you your eyes brim with tears. you feel his heart beating erratically, mirroring yours. "from the day you pulled me from that dark abyss, i decided that this heart will only belong to one person, to the one person this heart wholeheartedly loves."

time stops as you hears his words, it is like honey being poured into your ears. "so does mine too" you reciprocate, as you places his hands on your chest. "you are neither a monster nor an abomination. you are beautiful as Eru's any other creation. i even left the army because of you. because you keep on invading my everyday thoughts. and i kept thinking of how you are my enemy and i how i should hate you. but my heart never responded to any negative emotions, for all it had was love for you."

fianlly you can let this emotion run free, this plaguing need for him that you tried so hard to conceal. you would have stood there for eternity, for all of your immortal life, with his warm hands pressing yours into his chest. no words are exchanged betweeen you two in these seconds; no words are needed as the beating of your heart and the measure of your breath are enough to convey the feelings pouring off from both of you. he slowly closes the already miniscule distance betweeen you, as you step forward at the same time too, the tantalizing distance between your lips almost unbearable. you can feel his breath near your mouth, as your lips part with breathlessness and need. you just need to lean forward and place your mouth. you slowly reach forward, just enough to press the lips against his----

" lord father, i got a sudden report that---what is happening here?" glûg's voice rang across the tent as you and adar both turned to his direction.

" GET OUT GLÛG" you both cries in unison as poor glûg scurries off, being banished from the tent second time. but not before he catches a warm smile passing over his lord father. glûg catches from his peripheral vision, of his lord father pressing a chaste kiss in your cheek before placing his forehead against yours and smiling a genuine smile, which he has never seen.

'things will be good from now on' glûg thinks as he passes over to the next tent, thinking of the elf that thawed the ice of his lord father's heart. the one his lord father told him about months; the one lord father instructed him to call naneth in the future. and the one who made his lord father whole again after eons.

extra notes - all the asks i got, i will update them by this week itself, tysm for requesting! please leave a like and reblog and if you enjoyed reading them. hope everyone have an amazing day :)

[humblewarriorgentleman]

"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"

In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"

"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."

Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.

"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.

"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.

A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.

"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."

"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."

Susie kissed her huband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.

"And I love you," said Susie.

Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.

Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"

Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.

"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.

"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.

Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."

There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.

"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."

"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.

"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.

And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.

"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.

"I know."

"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.

"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.

Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"

Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"We were always together... in our dreams."

"We were?"

"We were."

"Hobbes?"

"Yeah, old buddy?"

"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."

"Me too, Calvin. Me too."

"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.

"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.

"Can I come in?" Susie asked.

"Just a minute."

Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..."

"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.

Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."

Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you."

Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.

"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."

Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."

Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age."

Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."

Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tommorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."

Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"

Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."

"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.

Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."

Francis leaned closer to Clavin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."

Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."

"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.

"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.

"Okay!" Francis shouted back.

"Take good care of him." Calvin said.

"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.

Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."

Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face.

Credit to Redditor samuraitiger19

His reply to the comments there 10 years ago

EDIT: Wow... just wow... I am speechless here guys. I did not expect such a reaction to my story or prompt. I am not worthy of your praise or your gold. I am truly humbled. Thanks so much! I'm truly glad so my story touched so many people.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bad Day at Black Rock | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: panic attack/PTSD, recovering from a sexual assault (HEED THESE WARNINGS ESPECIALLY FOR THIS CHAPTER), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 6673

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“What?!” you exclaimed. “She’s a demon, and you didn’t gank her?!”

Sam had just finished telling you and Dean about this Ruby girl he’d met. 

“No, (Y/N), I mean, she seemed pretty helpful on the Seven Deadlies case.”

“Wait, she’s the blonde chick?!” you realized. “Why the fuck would a demon help me?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “That’s what I’m trying to understand, too. And if she helped us then, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have at least listened to what she had to say.”

“Because ‘demon,’ that's why,” Dean snapped angrily. “I mean, the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water! You don't chat!”

“No one was chatting, Dean,” Sam huffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?”

“Because she said she might be able to help us out!”

“With what, though, Sam,” you chimed in. “You’ve never said how she’s supposed to be able to help us. Or with what.”

“She told me she could help Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean seemed to not understand.

“With the crossroads deal, I’m assuming,” you told him.

Sam nodded.

The older brother looked at Sam incredulously. “What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is; it's me.” Dean paused for a second. “What else did she say?”

Sam was quiet again.

You and Dean leaned in expectantly. “Dude?” the older brother questioned.

“Nothing. Nothing, Okay?!” Sam snapped. “Look, I'm not an idiot, guys. I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy. We don't know where they are; we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it.”

“You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?” Dean asked.

Sam huffed. “Yes I'm fine. Why are you always asking me that?”

You looked between the two brothers when a phone began ringing. You checked your pockets; no buzzing. Sam and Dean’s phones weren’t ringing either. 

“Check the glove box, it's Dad's,” Dean suddenly realized.

“Dad’s?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call.”

‘Smart boy,’ you thought.

Sam opened the glove box and found the ringing phone. “Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey… No! No, no, no, don't – don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my - my book in front of me—” Sam gestured to you for a pen, which you quickly handed to him— “do you- do you have the address so I can... Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot.” He then hung up and turned to Dean. “Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Outside of Buffalo?”

The older brother shook his head. “No way.”

“Yeah. And someone just broke into it.”

***

“No demons allowed,” Sam noted upon entering his father’s storage container. A large Devil’s Trap was etched into the ground, and two sets of bloody footprints traveled right through it. 

“Check this out,” Dean said, stooping to hold up a tripwire. It was attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. 

“Whoever broke in here got tagged,” Sam said.

“I got two sets of boot treads here,” you announced, “looks like it was a two-man job. And Buckshot Boy looks like he kept walking.” You nodded toward the bloody footprint trail leading into the container.

“So, what's the deal?” Sam wondered aloud. “Dad would do work here or something?”

“Living the high life, as usual,” Dean quipped.

The three of you crept around John’s storage locker, and the two brothers chatted about how much of a mystery their father still was to them. You took in the varying types of clutter. To your surprise, the room was filled with old memorabilia; photo albums, a graduation cap and gown you assumed was Sam’s, and a few boxes whose contents were written on the outside of them in a woman’s handwriting you assumed belonged to Mary. 

You smiled at a trophy on a shelf nearby. “Check it out,” you said, picking it up and dusting it off. “Sam Winchester, 1995,” you read aloud, “Soccer Division Championship.”

Sam grinned and came over to you. “No way! I can't believe he kept this.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled lopsidedly, “it was probably about the closest you ever came to being a boy.” He wandered over to another table with a shotgun laid on it. “Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade.” The older brother laughed and pumped the dusty shotgun.

“You made that?” you questioned.

“Not bad, eh?” he grinned excitedly.

“No, not at all,” you giggled. “Damn, dude.” You took the gun from him and inspected it, impressed with Dean’s craftsmanship. He smiled proudly at you.

“Guys, over here,” Sam said. You followed his voice over to a door to a back room. The chain on the door had been cut, and you cautiously made your way inside.

You waved your flashlight around the room to find varying weapons and lockboxes that no doubt held nasty supernatural objects.

“Holy crap. Look at this,” Dean called, “he had land mines. Which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?”

You took in the lockboxes on the shelf on the far wall. “This is binding magic,” you pointed out. “Curse boxes.”

“Curse boxes?” Dean questioned. “They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the Pandora deal?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object.”

“Well, Dad's journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, y'know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they ended up,” Dean added.

“Must be his sulfur-sludge dump,” you joked. You noticed a rectangular-shaped hole in the dust that had settled over the shelf. “Well, they found what they were looking for.”

“Great,” Sam groaned.

“Well, maybe they didn't open it,” Dean suggested optimistically. 

“Cute thought, but I’m sure they did,” you replied flippantly. You looked around the exterior of the storage unit for anything that could be of use to you; footprints, tire tracks, and… aha! A security camera.

“That’s helpful,” you noted, pointing up at it. 

The boys helped you fish the SD card out of the security camera, and you hooked it up to your computer. 

“There, license plate,” you noted. “And now…” you pulled up an alternate tab and copied the license plate number into it. Immediately, pages began scrolling of places the license plate had been seen at. Most recently, an apartment not too far from you. 

“Ta-da,” you announced childishly, and the brothers looked at you in shock.

“Jesus, (Y/N), how’d you get access to all this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, y’know,” you smirked, trailing off. 

Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Same way any hackers do,” you shrugged. “Had this guy on the hook for a bit when I was, maybe, twenty. Found out he was an FBI agent in the cyber unit— not the brightest of the bunch— and I phished his computer. Of course, as soon as I did, the computer broke and shut down. Told him I was good with computers and could fix it for him, and then, I cut and run. Fixed the laptop up and had access to everything he had access to. Exported it to my laptop, ditched his somewhere in Arizona, and here we are.”

“That is…” Dean trailed off, “incredibly hot.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. 

“Get a room,” Sam mumbled, moving over to the Impala.

***

You and the Winchesters crept into the apartment belonging to the drivers of the stolen Connecticut vehicle, guns drawn. You could hear two men chattering about their poker game, and then you finally burst into the room on Dean’s nod.

“Freeze, freeze! Nobody move!” he commanded.

“He said don’t fucking move!” you ordered, pinning the bandaged, redheaded man to his seat with your gun.

“What is this?” the other man questioned.

“Stop!” Sam demanded. 

“Alright, give us the box. And please tell me that you didn't–”

Sam cut Dean off. “Oh, they did.”

“You opened it?!” Dean grunted. He shoved the dark-haired man against the wall.

“Are you guys cops?!” the man pinned wondered.

“What was in the box?” Dean questioned angrily.

You noticed a rabbit’s foot on the edge of the table. ‘Oh, fuck,’ you thought. 

“Oh, was that it, huh?” Dean laughed coldly. “It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?”

The man used Dean’s distraction to knock the gun out of his hand. When it fell to the floor, it fired, and you had to drop to the floor to avoid being hit in the face by the bullet.

The bullet ricocheted off the radiator and hit Sam’s gun, and he dropped it. The same bullet somehow ricocheted and hit a lamp, breaking it. You dove across the floor, trying to grab Sam’s gun, and the redheaded man pushed Sam down on top of you.

“The fuck, Sam?!”

“Sorry!”

You scrambled toward the redhead, and he backhanded you, somehow knocking you off balance and sending you to the floor. You normally wouldn’t have been so thrown off by such a simple move, but that rabbit’s foot was definitely working its magic. 

“Dean, I got it!” Sam announced. You turned around to see him holding the rabbit’s foot.

“Fuck, Sam, no!” you cried upon seeing him holding the cursed object.

The dark-haired man moved forward holding Dean’s favored gun and cocked it in his face. The man pulled the trigger in Sam’s face, but the gun jammed. 

‘Thank god.’

A quick scuffle ensued in which the two men opposing you had a bookshelf fall on them and a carpet got wrapped around their ankles and tripped them. Both men knocked themselves out, and Dean laughed triumphantly.

“That was a lucky break!”

“No, not lucky!” you shrieked. “Sam, that’s a rabbit’s foot!”

“Uh, yeah?” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” you panicked. 

“No, what are you—”

“I’m calling Bobby,” you said, storming out of the apartment and back to the Impala. 

“Whoa, whoa, why? I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, (Y/N),” Dean countered, catching up to you. 

“Because that’s a rabbit’s foot, Dean! A cursed object! Its literal function is to bring bad luck,” you explained.

“How?” Sam asked. 

“Once you touch it, you’re marked. Luck’s gonna be on your side.”

“Better buy some lottery tickets then,” Dean chuckled excitedly.

You glared at him. “But if you lose it, you’re fucked. It’ll keep bringing you bad luck till it eventually kills you.”

“Well, I just won’t lose it, then,” Sam tried. 

“Everybody loses it, Sam! That’s the whole point!”

The two boys looked slightly shaken; Sam more so than Dean. Dean was laughing all the way to the bank on this one, and he dragged you and Sam to a gas station to get lottery scratch-off tickets. Then, he drove you to a restaurant chain location called Biggerson’s for some dinner. 

You sat on the phone with Bobby, the two of you angrily muttering about the insanity of the situation to each other.

“Gotta say, kid,” Bobby started, “was hoping the next time I heard from ya, it’d be on happier terms than this.”

“Trust me, me too,” you sighed. “Do you know of anything that can stop this?”

“I’ll dig around—”

Bobby’s voice in your ear was cut off by Dean triumphantly exclaiming, “twelve-hundred dollars! You just won twelve-hundred dollars!”

You grimaced and put the phone back to your ear.

“I’m guessing Sam’s luck’s still good,” Bobby drawled.

“For now, but I don’t know for how much longer.” You got out of the car, suddenly feeling suffocated in the Impala. You paced around, as did Sam, and you watched as he walked over to something glistening under a newspaper on the ground. 

“I’ll figure somethin’ out. Lemme look through my library and make some calls,” Bobby said. “Call me if anything else goes to shit.”

You laughed, and Sam stood up holding a golden watch. He turned to Dean who stood next to you and mouthed something like, “Awesome,” to his brother.

“Will do,” you told the older man on the phone. “Hurry, Bobby.” You hung up as Dean calculated the winnings from the scratch-off tickets he made Sam fill out.

“Oh, man!” Dean grinned. “We’re up fifteen grand!”

You and Sam half-smiled, both feeling unsettled still.

Dean continued to laugh as he walked into the restaurant with you hot on his heels. 

“In case you forgot, Dean, we’re still technically fugitives,” you hissed. “If Sam’s luck goes to hell, we could be royally fucked.”

“Don't worry,” Dean said easily. “Bobby 'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. Sam can be Rain Man.”

“Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam whispered. He turned to the man behind the host stand. “Hi, uh, table for three, please.”

The man’s face broke out into a grin, and he hollered, “Congratulations!” An alarm began to sound through the restaurant.

“It's exciting, I know,” Dean quipped.

“You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant family!” the man announced. 

The staff surrounding you began singing and taking photographs while they shoved a giant check into your hands. Balloons fell from the ceiling, and you and Sam would’ve rathered been anywhere else. Dean was ecstatic, though, which you were happy to see. You’d suffer tremendous embarrassment fifty times over just to see him smile. That thought scared you a little bit; how you'd do anything for him. You had a tendency to be an extremist.

You were escorted to your table, and a gorgeous waitress in what was clearly a black bob wig approached your table. 

Her coy smile was alluring, but something about her wasn’t sitting right with you. Still, nothing seemed off through the rest of the meal. Sam clacked away on his laptop rattling off bits of lore he was reading on rabbit’s foot Hoodoo magic while you and Dean shared a bowl of ice cream. 

“I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's,” Dean commented. 

The waitress came back over to your table with a pot of coffee and grinned at Sam. “Can I freshen you up?”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

The waitress poured, still smiling, and spilled some in her flirtatious stupor. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Let me mop up here. Sorry about that.” She hurriedly cleaned her mess and left the table, appearing to flirt with Sam over her shoulder even as she left.

“Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky…” Dean trailed off.

Sam smirked. “Shut up.”

You smacked Dean’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Sam went to pick up his coffee, but he knocked the cup over and spilled it all over himself. Before you could process what was going on, he jumped out of his seat and into a waiter with a full tray. Things went flying through the air as Sam rushed profuse apologies. 

“Sam, check your pockets,” you said evenly. 

He did, and his hands came up empty.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growled.

You and the brothers threw a wad of cash on the table and raced into the parking lot after the waitress. You noticed the black bob wig ditched on the ground a few feet from the door. “I knew it was a wig!”

“What?” Sam asked, turning around to you. He immediately tripped and fell flat on his face. 

“Wow! You suck!” Dean laughed, turning back to a groaning Sam.

“Ow,” the younger brother whined while you helped him up. His knees were bloody and raw through his ripped jeans.

“So what, now your luck turns bad?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, Dean, I believe I’ve said that,” you remarked, and he glared at you. 

“Well, how bad does it get, genius?” 

“Really bad. C’mon,” you urged. 

“Where we goin’?” Sam asked.

“Back to the two jackwads that got us into this mess,” you said, hopping in the driver’s seat. 

“Whoa, who said you could drive?” Dean questioned.

“Me. Don’t be a child,” you said. 

***

You broke into the apartment once again to find the brunet man sadly downing a bottle of tequila. 

“Oh, man. What do you want?” the man asked.

“Heard about your friend. That's bad luck,” Dean tsked, referring to the death of the redheaded thief. 

“Piss off,” the man spat.

“We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman,” Dean continued.

“Oh yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because she just stole it back from us.”

The man laughed. 

Sam stepped forward. “Listen man, this is seri—” and then he fell to the floor mid-sentence, pulling a CD player and a shelf down on top of him. 

You turned back to help the younger brother up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, smiling awkwardly in thanks for your help. 

“I want you to tell us her name,” the older Winchester continued to the man. 

“Fuck you,” was the only response he got.

“It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner,” you tried, coming out from behind the couch.

“What?”

“C’mon, don’t tell me you haven’t been thinkin’ it. I thought you’d be smarter than that,” you challenged. That seemed to get under the man’s skin, so you continued. “That series of unfortunate events that had to happen to kill your partner— like, had you not seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it— that was the rabbit’s foot. If you don’t help us stop this thing, those deaths are on you, my friend.”

The man in front of you looked worried. 

“And I gotta tell you, it doesn’t seem you’re cut out for the whole killin’ thing. You don’t wanna be a killer, do you?” you continued to press.

The man shook his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “No.”

***

You left the apartment repeating the woman’s last name over and over in your head. The man told you “Lugosi” was the only name he and his partner were given when they were hired. 

You took out your phone and called Bobby. 

“Hey, (Y/N), glad you called,” you heard the man say. 

“Hey, we got a situation here—”

“I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick,” Bobby continued. 

“That’s awesome, thank you, but uh…” you trailed off, trying to decide how to phrase your next words. You decided not to sugarcoat it in the end. “Sam lost the foot.”

“He what?!”

“I know, I know,” you sighed. You turned back around to see Sam and Dean trying to use a broken storm grate to get gum off the bottom of Sam’s shoe. You shook your head at their faces when they noticed you; seeming like two little kids caught with their hands in the candy bowl. You returned your focus to your phone call. “Listen, you know anybody by the name ‘Lugosi’? Maybe mid 20’s, super hot, my height—”

“Aw, crap. It’s probably Bela,” Bobby said. 

“ Bela Lugosi? That’s cute, but never heard of her,” you replied.

“Bela Talbot’s her real name,” the older man continued. “Crossed paths with her once or twice.”

“How the hell would she know John had the rabbit’s foot? She a hunter?” you questioned.

“Pretty fuckin’ far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country,” Bobby explained. “Last I heard, she was in the Middle East someplace.”

“Well, she’s back!” you mock-cheered, exasperated.

“Which means seriously bad luck for you,” the older man added.

“Thanks for the encouragement,” you quipped.

“Well, kid, if it is Bela, at least I might know some folks who know where to find her,” he finished. 

“Thanks, Bobby. For everything.”

“Just… look out for those two idjits.” And with that, he hung up the phone.

You sighed and turned back around to see Dean reaching through the storm drain and Sam looking dejected. 

“What happened?” you asked.

“I lost my shoe,” the brunet replied sadly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed sympathetically, and Sam’s head hung low. Dean seemed annoyed and huffed, standing up from the floor. 

“C’mon,” the older brother asserted.

***

Bobby did actually have a pretty good lead on Bela; she apparently lived in Queens about two hours away. 

“So what are we doing here?” Sam questioned, referencing the motel you’d just gotten a room at. 

“You, my brother, are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting us killed,” Dean stated. “And (Y/N), you’re staying with him.”

“What?! Why?” you protested. 

“Because Sam actually listens to you when you tell him not to do something. And you’re way more responsible than me,” Dean shrugged simply.

“Fair point,” you sighed. “Knowing you, you’ll touch the stupid rabbit’s foot, though.”

“Pfft, c’mon, it’s me we’re talking about—”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” you dryly stated.

Dean glared at you playfully as he walked Sam into a motel room. You followed close behind and peeked out the door to make sure you weren’t followed. 

“What am I even supposed to do, Dean?” Sam whined.

“Nothing! Nothing. Come here. I don't want you doing anything. I want you to sit right here—” the older brother pulled a chair into the middle of the room— “and don't move, okay? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose.” Dean turned to you. “If I’m not back by midnight, take off.”

“What, you gonna turn into a pumpkin or something?” you snickered.

“(Y/N), I’m serious.”

“Since when?”

“(Y/N)—”

“Okay, okay, fine, I heard you.”

Dean smirked down at you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll be back,” he said.

You watched him leave, a bit of your heart tugging at being anywhere without him. Your feelings for him were certainly growing stronger, and it frightened you how constantly you needed to be near him. 

You turned back to see Sam wrinkle his nose a few times before finally risking a scratch at it. 

“Hey! None of that,” you said. 

Sam’s sad eyes turned to yours. “This fuckin’ sucks, man,” he sighed.

“I know it does. Kinda the whole point of the rabbit’s foot curse,” you commented.

He ignored your smart remark.

“Found anything on how to break Dean’s deal?” you asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. Did find out something interesting, though.”

“What?’ you asked.

“All my mom’s old contacts? All her old friends, the nurse who delivered me— they’re all dead,” he explained.

“What?!” you shrieked. “And you didn’t think to mention this before now?!”

“Shh, keep your voice down,” Sam said. “Didn’t wanna say anything in front of Dean; he’d go berserk.”

“You know I have to tell him, right?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, no! Please don’t,” he begged. “Please. You know he’d flip. And, uh, probably more because of the way I got that information than the information itself.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Ruby told me.”

“Oh, god.” You rolled your eyes and dropped your head back. 

“C’mon, (Y/N), I mean, I called, and it all checks out. It’s got something to do with me and the demon; I know you recognize that pattern,” Sam tried.

“I do, but I don’t like being constantly stuck in the middle of you and Dean,” you said. “I’m supposed to be Switzerland, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean Switzerland didn’t have information on the two sides, she just didn’t pick one,” he shrugged.

“Sam,” you warned, “You know how I feel about keeping things from Dean.”

“I know, I know, but you wouldn’t necessarily be keeping it from him, you’d be…” he trailed off, trying to think of a way to phrase his next words, “fulfilling a promise to me.”

“But I didn’t promise anything,” you argued.

“Please promise me you won’t tell Dean. Not till I’m ready,” Sam begged.

“Sam!”

“(Y/N/N), c’mon. Please, man. Please.”

You stared at Sam for a prolonged moment; you stared intensely and Sam looked up at you with puppy-dog eyes from his chair. You sighed and dropped your head forward. “Fine. But you are gonna promise me that you’ll tell Dean eventually. That’s my one condition.”

Sam nodded. “Deal.”

You shook your head and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Sam’s chair. “You Winchesters and your secrets.”

“Oh, like you don’t have any,” Sam deadpanned.

You looked up at the television and saw the reflection of your guard uniform and scratched-up face staring back at you. You took in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. “Touché.” You paused for a moment. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What are you gonna do when—” you cut yourself off, tears beginning to well in your throat. You took a deep breath to push them down. “When Dean’s gone?” 

Sam shook his head. “(Y/N), no. He’s not gonna—”

“Sam,” you said. “We are trying everything we can. We’re two months into this thing and no closer to saving him than we were on day one. I stopped looking. Not ‘cause I don’t care anymore, but because I’m not gonna send you to Hell just so Dean can live. I mean, Bobby’s been lookin’, too! And he hasn’t found a damn thing. So I just think we have to be real with ourselves.”

Sam shook his head, tears in his eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose him,” you said, putting your hand on Sam’s knee to make him look at you and beginning to cry, too. “I don’t. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But… I’m scared, man. When I lost my family…” you closed your eyes at the memory of some of the awful things you’d done and would never forgive yourself for, “I don’t wanna do that again. And… And I just think that if we kept huntin’ together, we could keep tabs on each other. Make sure the other doesn’t go rogue, y’know?”

“I can’t believe you’re just gonna give up on him like that,” Sam spat, disappointed. 

“I’m not!” you argued. “But I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, dammit! Dean would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself!”

“Look, we’ve got ten months left. We’ll find something,” Sam continued. 

“I hope you’re right, man. I really do,” you said.  

Neither of you said anything for the next few hours.

During that time, you took out your journal and wrote. You didn’t usually keep journals when you were done with them as your duffel bag would be filled to the brim with them by now, but you were definitely going to keep this one; especially after Dean was gone. 

It was somewhat poetic that the first day you met the boys was the first time you’d written in this particular journal. Its pages were filled with your, at first, disdainful musings about the older Winchester brother and slowly but surely became your attempts at discerning your feelings for him.

You liked to buy quite thick and large journals to have enough room for your drawings and to be able to continue writing in them for months and occasionally years. This was the longest you’d been able to stretch one, though, and you were a little over three-fourths through writing in it. 

“I can’t help but wonder what comes next after all this,” you wrote, the pen gliding easily against the page in time with your racing thoughts. “I’ve always been awful about ‘futurecasting’ as Dad called it, but it’s even worse now. Every second I’m with Dean, I can’t help but think about how this is all gonna be over in less than a year. And it’s awful. I wanna be present with him. I just can’t. I don’t want there to be an end to us. I don’t even know if we are anything! He can’t even tell me he loves me.

“And I get it to some extent. ‘I love you’s are hard for him. Fine. I just wish he’d figure out some way to communicate with me that isn’t sex. I mean, the sex is great, but. I don’t know. And just after everything that happened, I’m not feeling great about having sex anyway. And I know it’s upsetting him, even if he won’t say anything; he’d never pressure me, and I know that. And I’m getting better about sex and related things. But it just sucks.

“And I don’t wanna bring any of this up with him and start fights because, as I’m painfully aware, that deadline is getting closer and closer every day. I just want him to be happy with me while he still can be.”

You dropped your pen when the air conditioning unit next to you began to smoke. 

“Oh come on, I- I didn't- I wasn't—” Sam whined.

“Just stay put,” you said. You jerked back in surprise when the unit suddenly caught fire. You grabbed the comforter from the bed next to you and began to put the fire out with it. Thankfully, the fire stopped. 

“I’m gonna see if I can get someone to fix that for us before your luck kills us both with carbon monoxide poisoning,” you said, starting toward the door. 

Suddenly, the door to the motel room burst open. However, it wasn’t Dean who opened it. It was two men. You drew your gun and cocked it, trained on the two men. “Get the fuck out,” you ordered. 

“I don’t think so,” said the older-looking man. He almost reminded you of Willem Dafoe, and you mentally pegged that as his name. The other man with a bizarre-looking mustache charged you, and you fired. Somehow, the bullet missed its target despite him being in such close range. 

“What the hell, Sam?!” you exclaimed. “Your luck’s rubbin’ off on me!”

“Sorry!” he winced.

The man charging you tried to restrain you in a headlock, but you kicked him squarely between the legs. You jutted your elbow back into his nose simultaneously, and the man dropped you. 

Unfortunately for you, though, Sam had been trying to help you by taking on Willem Dafoe. You turned around to see Sam unable to land a punch on the other man’s face. You tried to help him, but Sam ended up punching you across the face, and you were knocked out cold.

***

When you woke up, your arms were bound behind your back, and your legs were taped together as well. The men had laid you on your stomach, and you immediately began to struggle and panic, feeling your current position was too similar to the one you’d been in with the guard. 

“Dean! Help me!” you wailed without thinking. Your body was in autopilot as you struggled, and you couldn’t even focus on the men in the room. 

“Quit whinin’,” the man with the mustache told you. 

You could barely hear him over the roaring in your ears. “Dean!”

“I said shut up!” the man in front of you roared, slapping you across the face.

You couldn’t, though, continuing to flail like a fish out of water.

“Creedy,” the other man said, turning away from Sam and to his accomplice, “shut her up, please.”

“With pleasure.” The man took a rag out of his shirt and shoved it in your mouth, your muffled cries coming out around it. 

You vaguely heard Willem Dafoe beating the crap out of Sam while he talked about his mission from “god” to kill Sam. Then, the man drew his gun. His partner was unsettled, too, as you strained harder to get out of your binds. 

Suddenly, your saving grace appeared in the doorway. “Dean!” you cried through the gag in your mouth. 

Willem Dafoe turned around and aimed the gun point-blank at Sam’s forehead. 

“Nope. No destiny,” Dean said coolly referring to the man’s earlier comment about god and destiny leading them to Sam. “Just a rabbit's foot.”

“Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall,” the man replied, his tone ice cold.

Dean waved his Taurus around. “Oh, this thing?”

“Yeah, that thing,” look-alike-Dafoe responded. 

“Okay.” Dean put his gun down on the nightstand beside him, looking smug. “But you see, there's something about me that you don't know.” Dean smoothly picked up a pen off the nightstand beside the gun. 

“Yeah? What would that be?”

“It’s my lucky day,” Dean grinned. He tossed the pen toward Willem Dafoe, and it lodged in the barrel of the gun. ““Oh my God, did you see that shot?!” 

Forgetting all about your current situation, you started yelling through the gag, “You fucking touched it? You fucking idiot!” But all that came out was a muffled garbling of words. 

The man named Creedy lunged at Dean, but missed his punch completely. The man ended up running straight into the wall, and Dafoe was busying himself trying to dislodge the pen from the barrel of his gun. 

“I'm amazing,” Dean said smugly. He picked up the television remote and threw it hard at Dafoe. It hit the man square between the eyes, knocking him out cold. 

“I’m Batman,” you heard Dean suavely state, but you were too busy returning your focus to getting your binds undone. Now that the immediate danger was over, your body went back into panic mode. You yelped when you suddenly felt a hand on your back and fought even harder. 

“Hey, hey!” Dean coaxed. “It’s just me.” He saw you weren’t listening, and he immediately set to work cutting the duct tape binding your legs and wrists. Your hands shakily yanked out the rag in your mouth. Only then did you realize Dean was the one in front of you, and you leapt into his arms. 

He caught you easily, one hand around the underside of your back and the other around the topside your legs. You curled up into him and buried your face in his neck. 

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Dean tried, but your shaking wouldn’t stop. You could feel your sobs slowly subside, but it took quite a while of Dean holding you for you to regain your composure. He pressed kisses into the side of your hair while he held you and tried to soothe you by telling you you were safe. 

You finally uncurled your legs from around Dean and let him put you down. 

Sam came up behind you to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded as you sniffled. 

“What happened?” Sam asked in that very unique-to-him soft voice. 

“I dunno,” you lied. 

Dean gave you a look that let you know he’d be asking more questions later. 

“C’mon, we gotta get the hell outta here,” you said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You could feel the boys giving you questioning looks as you gathered up yours and the boys’ things and stalked out to the car. 

*** “Alright,” Sam began, sprinkling cayenne pepper into the embers of a small fire you and the Winchesters had started in the middle of a cemetery. “Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it.”

“One second…” Dean said absentmindedly, scratching off the last of his lottery tickets. 

“Dean—” Sam complained. 

“Hey, back off, Jinx. I’m bringing home the bacon,” Dean quipped. He stashed the cards in his jacket that he’d slung over a gravestone. “Alright, say goodbye, wascally wabbit.” He dangled the rabbit’s foot over the top of the fire. 

“Hey!” you shouted, whipping out your gun at the sound of a twig cracking. You aimed it at the sound, and Bela emerged from the darkness with hers drawn as well. 

“I think you'll find that belongs to me,” she said firmly. “Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey.”

“Oh, hell no,” you said, cocking your gun. 

Bela cut her eyes at you, shooting Sam in the shoulder.

You exclaimed, “What the—!” and Dean cursed, “Son of a—” as Sam collapsed to the ground. 

“Back off, tiger,” Bela told you. “Back off! You make one more move, and I’ll pull the trigger. You’ve got the luck, Dean. You, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him, I can’t miss.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” the older brother roared. “You don't just go around shooting people like that!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Relax. It's a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people? Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now.”

“Alright!” Dean mollified. “Alright. Take it easy.” He moved to drop the rabbit’s foot, but instead, he threw it at Bela. “Think fast,” he smirked. 

Bela caught the foot and immediately realized what she’d done. “Damn!”

“Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?” Dean smiled in satisfaction. 

Bela sighed, aggravated. She dropped her arm and uncocked her gun, but you kept yours aimed at her as she moved over to the fire. 

“Would you stop pointing that at me?” her smooth voice came without looking at you. 

“Sorry, love. Don’t trust you,” you smiled in fake-politeness. 

She rolled her eyes and moved back to the fire. She dropped the foot into the fire. “Thanks very much,” Bela continued. “I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.” 

“Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?” Dean turned to his brother.

“Nope. Not even a little.”

Bela’s gaze hardened. “Hmm. Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry.” She turned around and moved toward the gravestone where Dean’s jacket laid. You knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Have a nice night, girls,” Bela smirked. 

You glared at her. “Uh, uh! Turn around!” you ordered. 

“What?” she sighed, clearly annoyed. 

“Gimme the tickets,” you commanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. 

“Yeah, you do. You can’t con me, angel.”

She grumbled angrily but took the stolen tickets out of her pocket and threw them to the ground. 

“Thanks a million,” you called after her. 

“You’re fuckin’ awesome, woman,” Dean admired, you assumed in reference to the tickets you noticed Bela stole. He came over to you and kissed you boldly. You giggled against his lips, and he held your waist firmly. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Hey! Bleeding out, here!” 

You broke away from Dean. “Oh, sorry!” you grimaced, moving to head back to the Impala. “C’mon, I’ll get you patched up.”

When you ensured the rabbit’s foot was burnt to a crisp, you and the Winchesters moved to the car. 

“You good?” Dean asked his brother. 

“I’ll live,” he responded. 

“I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. And we're up forty-six thousand.” Dean threw his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, waving the tickets around in the air. 

“Maybe we should hit Vegas, see how good our luck still is,” you suggested, smiling lopsidedly. 

“I like the way you think,” Dean nodded. “Whaddaya say, Sammy?”

“I think you guys are gonna end up blowing all our money on slot machines,” the younger brother dryly commented. 

“Ye of little faith,” you said. “If not Vegas, we can at least get ourselves a nicer motel room. Maybe we can graduate to hotels!”

“Ooh, yeah. One of those hotels with a jacuzzi tub.”

“Hell yeah—”

“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Still bleeding out, here.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[goodolddumbbanana]

Dark Sun asks Sundrop to help him impress Sun.

Sundrop(No Moon! Sun) *still in his very upbeat phase*: So... What do we need a Wither dragon for?

Dark Sun : What do you mean what do we need a Wither dragon for? Why in the hell do you think I just spent whole months driving Nexus crazy?

The whole purpose of recruiting Nexus in the first place was just to make Sun realize how horrible Moons are so that I can prove my decision on killing Moon are right and Sun just do the same with me, he will join me and he will not refuse, because of the implication.

Sundrop ( * sweating nervously*): Oh, uh... okay. You had me going there for the first part, the second half kinda threw me off.

Dark Sun (*patiently explaining*): Well Sun, think about it: Nexus just went crazy and attempted to go on a rampage killing all of Sun's family members.

Sundrop (*kinda regret interacting with Dark Sun right now*): Erm...

Dark Sun: And Moon is just pathetic crippled in the background thinking how miserable his life was like some pathetic egoistic person he is.

All his family is busy with their things. With that, Sun will get isolated. So when I show up, what do you think Sun will think?

"Ahh, there's nowhere for me to run. What am I gonna do, say 'no'?"

Sundrop (*slowly take a step back*): Okay. That... that seems really dark.

Dark Sun (*shake his head innocently*): Nah, nah, no it's not dark. You're misunderstanding me, Sun.

Sundrop (*Press the phone secretly behind his back while anxiously calling Cringe Sun") : I'm-I think I am.

Dark Sun : Yeah, you are, because if Sun said "no" and refuses to go with me then the answer obviously is "no"...

Sundrop (*hello, twink boy~ calling this soon? Has my skibidi toilet break dance finally impressed you?*: No, right. Yeah...

Dark Sun : But the thing is he is not gonna say "no", he would never say "no" because of the implication.

Sundrop (*whisper* Get your ass and Sunny come here immediately!!! Dark Sun went cooko again!!!*) : Haha...Now you've said that word "implication" a couple of times. Wha-what implication?

Dark Sun : The implication is that things might go wrong for him if him refuse to join me. Now, not that things are gonna go wrong for him but he is thinkin' that they will.

Sundrop: But it sounds like Sun doesn't want to join you..? Or date you?

Dark Sun : Why aren't you understanding this? Sun doesn't know if he want to do as I say or not. That's not the issue...

Sundrop : Are you gonna hurt Sun?

Dark Sun : I'm not gonna hurt Sun! Why would I ever hurt Sun? I feel like you're not getting this at all!

Moondrop : I'm not getting it.

Dark Sun : Goddamit.

[SunBOT staring at them]

Dark Sun : Well don't you look at me like that, you certainly wouldn't be in any danger. I mean, I couldn't kill you if I wanted to.

Sundrop : So he is in danger!

Dark Sun : No one's in any danger!

...

Okay, except Nexus. But that Moon has it coming!!

[watermelonlovershigh]

A Trip to the ER {part. 16} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

Aftercare {part. 15} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: this took me so long to write. one because i didn't even know what to write for this chapter for a while until one day this idea came to me and i thought it would be a perfect filler chapter between all the smutty chapters. i hope you enjoy. make sure to leave your feedback and feel free to send in your ideas.

This story contains: mentions of sex (sexual acts), crying, distress, comfort, vulnerability, mentions of vomit, mild angst, fluff

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - teacher!harry - au!harry }

word count- 3,118

You accidently fall in the shower and end up breaking your foot, which results in Harry having to leave work early and come home to help you get ready for a trip to the ER.

This was not how you envisioned your week going. It was supposed to be the week you went on a date with Harry and he makes you wear those vibrating panties you purchased on Amazon. Teasing and edging you all night until you get home where he can fuck you senseless. But that all changed when you had an accident that landed you in the emergency room.

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

It's Monday morning, and you ultimately decided to leave the comfort of your bed. Harry left for work roughly an hour earlier, and you needed to get up to start the work you do from your laptop. However, after the activities you and Harry did the night before, the idea of a shower was quite inviting first and foremost.

While your shower was heating up, you stand at the sink and brush your teeth. Once your mouth is feeling and smelling fresh, you hop in the shower and begin your normal shower routine. Everything's going smoothly until your foot slips on a glob of shampoo you dropped a minute prior, causing your whole body to fall down.

Immediately, you feel a sharp pain radiating from your ankle to your toes on your right foot. Tears well up in your eyes as you attempt to stand, only to realize that's impossible for you to do. You can't put any weight on your foot. Great, you've likely fractured your foot, and in the shower, no less. How embarrassing.

Sitting on the shower floor, you're overwhelmed with pain and tears, praying that the next seven hours will not stretch on until Harry returns. As you look to your left, just outside the shower curtain, you notice your phone lying on the closed toilet seat. A sense of gratitude fills you. Your phone is conveniently within reach. Once you turn off the shower, you gather your strength to stretch your arm out and grasp your phone.

With wet hands and tear stricken cheeks, you dial Harry's number. You truly hate to bother him at work but this is sort of an emergency. It rings approximately three times before you hear a quiet, "Hello." You're sure if he wasn't in class he would have said 'hello baby', but opted not to say that in front of his students.

"Harry," you cry helplessly over the phone, "I..... I'm sorry.... to bother..... you. But, but, I fell.....in the shower and, and my foot. I think it's broke. It hurts so bad." As soon as Harry hears the real distress in your voice, he steps out in the hallway to have more privacy.

"Baby, slow down f'me. You fell in the shower?"

You nod but realize he can't see you, so you mutter in a weak voice, "Yeah."

With his phone to his ear, Harry reassures you in the most calming voice he can muster in this moment of internal panic for your wellbeing, "S' gonna be okay, baby. Gimme twenty minutes and I'll be home. Think you'll be okay until I get there? If not, you should call 999 f'me."

Still crying, you answer back, "I'll....I'll wait for you. It just hurrrts."

"I know, baby. I'll be there as soon as possible."

The call ends and Harry steps inside his classroom to tell his students, "Class, v' got to run to the office for a second, be on your best behavior, alright." All twenty-five students nod their heads and continue on with their worksheets. Harry books it down the hall until he reaches the schools office.

"Mr. Styles, everything alright?" the older secretary asks as a frantic Harry bursts through the double doors.

"Um, actually, is there anyone who can watch my class for the rest of the day? M' girlfriend is in a bit of an emergency and I need to leave school."

The secretary gives Harry an apologetic look and assures, "I'm sure we can find someone. Go gather your things and I'll send someone down to your classroom."

With relief, Harry replies, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Mabel." He marches back down to his classroom and once inside, hurries to pack all of his things that he normally takes home each day.

"Mr. Styles," one of Harry's students begin curiously, "you're leaving?"

Taking a brief pause, he raises his gaze to address the class, explaining the situation. "M' girlfriend is experiencing an emergency, and I need to leave for the rest of the day. A staff member will be comin' to supervise you until school ends. I expect you all to behave appropriately in their presence, understood?" The students nod in acknowledgment, though some show their disappointment at the fact he has a girlfriend. Like their prepubescent selves had a chance with their hot, much older teacher anyways. He rarely talks about his private life with them because they are still very much kids, so it's understandable that they didn't even know he has a girlfriend.

As Harry steps out the classroom with his satchel slung over his shoulder and an empty coffee cup in hand, a member of office staff arrives to take over the class for the day. He hurriedly approaches his car, and the moment he's inside and starts the engine, he speeds off in the direction of his home. The knowledge that you're suffering alone fills his stomach with nausea and his chest with worry.

He manages to reach home in half the time it typically requires, clearly driving above the speed limit. When he nears his street, Harry calls you to notify you that he's almost there. "Harry......" he hears you cry through the phone and it's breaking his heart.

"M' here, m'love. Pullin' in our driveway now."

With a voice hoarse from your sobbing, you manage to whisper a quiet, "Okay," before hanging up the phone. Just then, the front door opens and you hear hurried footsteps making their way to the bathroom where you are. Harry, not pausing to knock as he occasionally would out of respect, enters without hesitation to assist you. The moment you catch sight of your boyfriend, you're engulfed by another surge of tears—tears of relief that he's actually here, tears of embarrassment over this entire ordeal, and tears resulting from the actual pain in your foot.

As soon as Harry catches sight of you, his eyes become misty with his own tears. He's pained to see you in such distress. He rushes over to the tub to see exactly the situation he's dealing with. He first notices you're soaked, likely due to your inability to grab your towel, and unclothed, clearly from your recent shower. He takes your towel that's hanging up beside the shower and kneels down beside you. "Shhh, everythin' will be alright. M' gonna take you to hospital. You'll be okay."

He drapes the towel over your shoulders to provide you with warmth and then rises to his feet while lifting you. Harry gently scoops you up in his arms bridal style before placing you on the closed toilet seat. "It hurts, ouch, ouch," you cry when your foot lightly touches the floor.

Once you're comfortably seated on the toilet, Harry initiates the drying process to prepare you for clothes. He positions himself beside you and gently runs a towel through your dripping hair. Luckily, you had rinsed all the soap out prior to your fall. He then kneels down in front of you and continues to dry your body. When he reaches your injured foot, he opts to not drying it, recognizing that it will air dry on its own, eventually. The swelling in your foot is quite pronounced, indicating how serious your fall was, which encourages him to move quickly in getting you the help you require.

"Alright, all dry. Do you want me to carry you to your bedroom to get dressed? Or do you want me to bring your clothes in here?"

You respond softly, "In here." Following your words, Harry steps away to fetch you a set of clothes, leaving you feeling particularly exposed while seated on the closed toilet. Although you're aware that Harry's your boyfriend now and you've witnessed his vulnerability on numerous occasions throughout your relationship, even recalling a time when he saw you in a vulnerable state before you became an official couple, when your period caused you such distress. However, him coming to your aid while you're naked after injuring your foot in the shower is quite embarrassing at present, though you're certain that in the years to come, you'll find humor in this incident.

A minute later, a distressed Harry comes in with clothes for you to wear. He places them by the sink and reaches for your bra first, but you stop him. "No bra, we're just going to the hospital. Plus, I'm already in pain and I don't want to add to that."

"Understood, no bra then." He hangs your bra on the hook located behind the bathroom door for your convenience the next time it's needed, and then retrieves your shirt. This shirt is one of his t-shirts that you've made your own. Despite the urgency of getting you to the hospital, he takes his time to assist you in dressing. With care, Harry places the shirt over your head and helps you maneuver your arms through the sleeves. He then kneels down to pull your panties up your legs until they're positioned mid-thigh. He selected a pair of shorts, believing they would be the most practical choice for your injured foot, and you appreciate his thoughtful approach.

Harry attentively helps you rise on your good foot, taking hold of the waistbands of your underwear and shorts to pull them up until they provide full coverage over your bottom. Him doing this evokes the feeling of being a small child that's having help getting dressed by a parent. Once you're seated again and fully dressed, minus shoes, Harry verifies that he has his keys and both of your phones in his pockets before lifting you into his arms once more to carry you to his car. As he exits the bathroom, he ensures that your potentially broken foot doesn't strike the doorframe.

Right as Harry steps outside with you cradled in his hold, your arms looped around his neck, you moan, "I feel sick."

Harry stops dead in his tracks to question, "Are you gonna throw up?" If you were, he'd much prefer you to puke outside in the grass before you got in his car.

"I don't knowww. It just really hurts, H.... The pain is making me nauseous." He chooses to help you into his vehicle anyways, ensuring that your injured foot remains undisturbed as he helps fasten your seatbelt. He then hurries to the driver's seat to begin the journey.

Before departing for the hospital though, Harry opens the glove compartment and retrieves a hospital-grade vomit bag, commonly referred to as an emesis bag. Due to his previous experiences with motion sickness and passengers with motion sickness, as well as drunk friends, he keeps a supply of these bags for emergency situations.

Harry hands you the blue barf bag and says softly, "If you feel like you're gonna be sick, use this alright." You take it from him and he speeds off in the direction of the closest hospital.

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

Thankfully, you reach the hospital without getting sick, despite feeling queasy during the entire trip due to the pain in your foot. Harry parks the car near the emergency entrance and swiftly enters the building to obtain a wheelchair. He emerges quickly with the wheelchair and goes around his vehicle to opens your door, followed by helping you sit inside the wheelchair and pushes you towards the entrance.

Upon entering the Emergency Room, Harry approaches the receptionist and explains your circumstances. She provides him with the necessary paperwork and informs him of the estimated waiting time. Fortunately, the wait is shorter than you anticipated it would be for an ER to have.

Because you're in a considerable amount of pain and unable to concentrate, Harry takes the initiative to fill out the papers himself, although he does ask you a few questions that he's not 100% certain on. You just sit beside him in your wheelchair, clutching the emesis bag, trying not to get sick in front of the few people also sat and waiting to be seen for their injuries and illnesses.

After completing and submitting the required paperwork, you find yourself waiting for an agonizing forty-five minutes until a nurse calls you into room number four. Harry helps by pushing your wheelchair into the room, where the nurse begins to take your vitals and poses relevant questions to determine the cause of your injury. "I observe that your foot seems to be a bit swollen. Can you tell me how you injured it today?"

Breathing deeply through the pain, you respond, "I was... taking a shower. I must have slipped on some shampoo that had collected on the tub floor. I didn't hear a crack or anything, but the pain is unbearable. I think it's broken. I can't apply any weight to it."

The nurse listens closely before glancing up at Harry. "And you are?" she directs at him.

"Oh, um, m' Harry. Y/n's boyfriend. We also live together. But um, I was at work when this happened. She called me at the school where I teach, and was cryin' and distraught, tellin' me she fell in the shower and asked me to come home. Which, of course I did. Then helped her change and brought her here."

"Okay, well let's get some x-rays of your foot and from there we'll determine what needs to be done next."

You and Harry spend an additional ten minutes in room four of the emergency room before the nurse arrives back to escort you to the radiology department for an x-ray of your foot. The entire time, Harry remains by your side. It's evident that he's making an effort to appear strong for your benefit, yet it's clear that he's quite shaken up by the situation. His reaction is entirely reasonable; if you were to receive a call from Harry saying he had been involved in an accident, regardless of its severity, you would likely feel just as distressed, if not more so.

Once you finish getting the x-ray, you're placed back in room four to wait for an actual doctor to show up with the x-ray's results. "Harry, why aren't the going faster? We've been here forever. I'm in so much pain!" you groan with your head leaning on Harry's shoulders as he stands beside the tall bed that's wrapped in white paper, which you're currently laying on.

"I know, baby. M' sure they're goin' as fast as they can. There's a lot of people with emergencies in London." You whine at his words because they don't make you feel any better. Luckily, the next thing you know, a doctor knocks on the door and steps inside with photocopies of the x-rays of your foot.

"Ah, Ms, Y/L/N, how are we today?" Dr. Smitts questions as he comes in the room cheerfully.

Giving him a moody look, you rebuttal, "I'm in the emergency room. How do you think my day's going?!? Just tell me if my foot is broken or not!" Dr. Smitts and even Harry are taken back by your biting tone, though they both understand you're in tons of pain, which explains your sour mood.

"Alright, Ms. Y/L/N, from looking at your x-rays today, it looks like you did fracture your fifth metatarsal bone. The good news is, it looks to be a clean break, so no surgery is needed. The bad news is, you'll need to wear a cast for six to eight weeks for it to heal correctly."

Although you're unhappy about the prospect of wearing a cast for two months, you're grateful to have received a clear diagnosis of your injury. The doctor takes you to another room, where he carefully places the cast on, with Harry present for support of course. You select a black cast to ensure it wouldn't draw too much attention.

When the cast is secured around your foot and lower leg, the doctor prescribes you pain medication for the first few days to help manage your discomfort. He makes sure to ask if there's any history of addiction in your family, to which you reply with, "No." Nonetheless, he cautions you to use the medication sparingly and only when absolutely necessary.

(^ photo not mine!!)

The hospital provides you with a set of crutches, yet allows you to use a wheelchair until you reach Harry's vehicle. Harry assists you in getting inside, carefully positioning the crutches on the back seat, and then proceeds to drive to the pharmacy to collect your medication.

On the drive to the pharmacy, you speak up, "This sucks! How am I gonna do anything for myself. Oh God, even worse, how are we gonna have sex."

Harry glances over to see you actually have tears in your eyes and laughs. "Y/n, you just broke your foot and your first thought is how we're gonna have sex?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm sure I'll still get horny but you won't be able to fuck me with the ginormous cast on my foot and leg. Oh my God, what are we gonna do. I guess I can always use one of my vibrators to rub one out. Or..."

Harry interrupts you, "There's still options, baby. I can always finger you. Or eat you out. I love doin' that for you. We don't always have to have intercourse to be intimate."

Looking over as he drives, you fight back, "Yeah, but what about you? You'll get hard sometimes and.... and, we won't be able to have sex."

"Y/n, you didn't break your hand or your mouth did you?" His words shut you up real quick, realizing he's right. You could always use your hands or mouth to pleasure him while your foot is healing.

The remainder of the car ride is silent, besides your low groans from the pain that's still present. When you arrive at the pharmacy, Harry goes inside to pick up your prescription and purchases you a bottle of water so you can take a pill in the car.

Upon his return to the vehicle, you swiftly open the bottle of pills, extract one, and place it in your mouth, hoping to alleviate your pain, even if only temporarily. As Harry drives back home, your thoughts are consumed by your exhaustion of today's events and the apprehension you feel regarding the recovery period for your foot.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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