#reader is a lot calmer about the situation than i would be

[kasagia]

Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Husband Maegor the Cruel/Six Wives Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ — 🐉 lady l: This is more based on his wives than on Maegor himself, but I wanted to test something. This is dedicated to dear @gulnarsultan, hope you like it! If you just want one of Maegor, feel free to ask!! ❤️❤️

❝tw: polygamous marriage, murder, jealousy, possessive and obsessive behavior, mention of stillbirths and death on childbirth.

❝🐉pairing: yandere!maegor the cruel x female!reader, yan!six wives x female!reader.

You must have been a very cursed woman when you were chosen to marry Maegor I Targaryen. Not only because he already had wives, but because of his well-known reputation and cruelty.

You begged your parents not to let you marry him, but it wasn't a choice to make. It was an order. Your parents couldn't deny it or they would be killed. Your family was well known in Westeros and had a good reputation for being fertile, maybe that's why he chose you. You cried a lot that day, but you had no choice but to leave for King's Landing.

Once you arrived, you were immediately greeted by one of Maegor's wives, Tyanna of the Tower. You were hesitant with her, knowing the reputation she maintained, but to your surprise, Tyanna had been nothing but kind and courteous to you, explaining everything she could about the court and Maegor. That being said, you quickly warmed to her, hopeful that you had a friend through it all.

The other wives were also nothing but cordial with you, some a little hesitant and others more open, but all kind and polite. You felt calmer about it.

Maegor has an explosive temper and everyone is directed towards his anger, not even you are safe, although you are the only one who can truly calm him down. Whenever he is having a temper tantrum or cruelty, you are called to defuse the situation.

His behavior is violent and difficult, his cruel acts became more common after he became obsessed with you. You must do what he wants, after all, you don't want your family to suffer the consequences, do you?

Ceryse Hightower was as sweet and kind as she could be. She was the warmest to you, hugging you and wishing you happiness and many children. She expected you to give her husband heirs.

She was kind, so sweet to you that she quickly became your friend, your ally. You adored her, and even though she was your husband's first wife, you had no problems with her or she with you. Ceryse has truly come to adore you like a sister.

Alys Harroway was the second wife and one of your closest friends, whom you mourned the loss of your friend deeply. She became pregnant with Maegor and quickly became happy and told you, leaving you excited and Tyanna jealous.

Alys was your closest friend, protective and calm. Her obsession with you was hidden but it was there, and she fiercely protected you from anyone. She wanted to be your only confidence and only friend and that was her undoing, after the disastrous birth.

Tyanna of the Tower was Maegor's most feared wife, and your friend. She was kind and courteous to you, staying by your side and whispering sweet and poisonous words in her ear. She wanted you for herself, not for Maegor or anyone else, she wanted you.

She was largely responsible for Alys' downfall, and Tyanna, even though she liked you, would still be willing to deal with you if you got in her way. She loved sharing you with Maegor, when the three of you slept together and she caressed your belly, sincerely hoping for a child that would be not just yours, but hers as well.

You loved them, all of them, but you couldn't help but feel awkward, especially with Tyanna. However, after Alys' death and the confession that Tyanna was to blame for the abominations being born, she was killed by Maegor and he soon took three wives at once. The Black Brides.

Elinor Costayne was the youngest and the most delicate, gentle and sweet. She quickly warmed up to you and soon stuck to you like gum, much to her surprise. Maegor didn't seem bothered by this, however.

Even after her fertility was proven and she managed to get pregnant with Maegor, the child was stillborn and with wings. She survived the birth, however, and clung to you as a source of protection and affirmation against her husband.

Rhaena Targaryen was one of Maegor's most fearless wives, perhaps because she was from the House of Dragon. She never wanted to marry him, but she was forced to and found comfort with you, in her friendship with you, and came to love you like a sister, in the Targaryen way.

She viewed Maegor with bad eyes and as a threat not only to her but to you. Rhaena couldn't let anything hurt you, not when she was already so attached to you. Her obsession grew and she felt jealous of Maegor when he was with you. It was just a matter of time.

Jeyne Westerling was shy and beautiful, with dreams that didn't include marrying Maegor, but one good thing came out of that marriage, and that was you. You were her only friend in the midst of all this and she considered you above everything and everyone.

You could still feel the fear in Jeyne's voice when she found out she was pregnant, the terror she was feeling. She cried in your arms when she found out, fearing she wouldn't be able to carry a healthy child. You tried to comfort her, but it was in vain, not when she gave birth to yet another abomination and died after giving birth.

You mourned the loss of your friend and Maegor the loss of what could have been a son. Now it was up to you, his beloved wife, to give him what he wanted so much. You were afraid of him, but Maegor loved you in his own way.

Possessive and incredibly cruel, he has no qualms about killing anyone who looks at you the wrong way. You are his, his wife, his Queen. Not from others.

Your life with him would be difficult and although you found comfort in your friendships with the other wives, you still felt lonely, far from your family, and forbidden to leave the Red Keep.

Maegor's possessiveness worsened when he discovered your pregnancy and this time he would be sure he would have the heir he so desired. It doesn't matter what means he has to take for this. You will give birth to a healthy and strong child.

Your fate was sealed the moment he chose you to be his wife.

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader

Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.

Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)

Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️

⭐️My requests are open!

Other parts here!!

~~~~

Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.

The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.

“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.

“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back

The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.

“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.

You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.

——

Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.

“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned

“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.

“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.

“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.

“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia

“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”

“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy

“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted

“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.

“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace

“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed

“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy

“Piss off bronze” you sulked

———

Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.

Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.

“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed

“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied

“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”

“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.

“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”

“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled

“i miss you so much” she sighed

“i miss you too baby” you agreed

———

Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.

“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.

“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.

“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”

“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.

You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.

The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.

——

The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.

“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.

“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.

“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.

You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.

You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.

As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.

Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.

Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.

You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.

“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.

“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.

Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.

“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk

“Hmm yes a little” you smiled

“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia

“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed

“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.

——

You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.

The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.

However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.

The save never came.

Everything went silent.

Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.

Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.

Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.

——

Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.

The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.

To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.

“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face

“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman

“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.

——

The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.

That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.

Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.

“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you

“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.

Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.

A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.

You screamed out in pain as everything went black.

“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.

“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.

Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.

“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.

She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.

You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.

“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.

Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.

“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.

“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.

The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.

As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.

Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.

After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.

“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes

“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly

“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.

“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.

“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.

“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine

A steady heart beat filled the room.

A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.

The baby was okay.

“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba

“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.

The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.

Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.

“Alexia” you called

“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.

“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.

“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister

“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3

[silovsmenot]

Foreign Language | Artūrs Šilovs

SUMMARY: A first meeting with a certain Latvian goalie, a surprise that leaves him thinking of you ... And an unexpected reunion thanks to injury. WARNINGS: So much fluff, poor Latvian language - if you're a Latvian native, please excuse me, I'm still learning. PAIRING: Artūrs Šilov & reader (f!reader implied). NOTES: This was the very first idea that I had, and it's been a brainrot ever since. This could very easily be a multi-part, because the brainrot is real. Okay so little Latvian lesson: 'sveiki' is an informal form of hello and 'piedodiet' is sorry. WORD COUNT: 2147 FIND PART TWO HERE

New job, new city — you were beyond excited to get started with your new life in Vancouver. It was a dream come true, a sports photographer for the Vancouver Sun. You’d be covering everything from soccer to basketball, and your personal favourite, ice hockey. It couldn’t have been better.

It had only been a few weeks and you were still pretty starstruck by the whole situation. The smile had rarely left your lips for everything felt so right. As you drove to the Abbotsford Centre, your music turned to loud as you sang along to your favourite song — life was good. And today promised to be another good day. You were helping to cover a story of the Vancouver prospects in Abbotsford and how they were developing within the AHL affiliate, while your partner would be interviewing players at the rink side and in changing rooms, you’d be snapping the shots of the training session.

It promised to be a lot easier than your usual days, training sessions were a lot more relaxed than game photography. Even with their game against playoff rivals looming, you knew it would be a calmer atmosphere than the alternative.

With the heavy camera bag upon your shoulders, digits scraped back your hair as you walked, tied back as you always did while working. Nodding across to your partner who stood waiting at the large rink doors, he held out a coffee to you, which you gratefully accepted with a quiet ‘thank you’. You two were close, like siblings — natural partners and you always delivered high tier work together.

“The boss wants some focus on the goalies, see what you can do, y/n.” He muttered as you walked, both sipping quietly at the hot liquid. From where you were, you could already hear the shouts of training, the crash of the puck against glass and the slapping of sticks upon the ice. It was a sound you knew and loved.

And as your partner pushed open the door, the bright lights of the rink lit everything up. You both moved quickly with a light tapping of both coffee cups in luck, your partner immediately gravitating to the head coach who lingered beside the boards, while you would weave onto the bench and begin your setup. Lens mounted onto the camera body, fixing your settings to this particular arena until you were happy with your picture. It was simply second nature now.

You stood beside the boards, camera switching from player to player with smooth motions as the camera clicked. Turning to each goalie, your camera would linger with the rhythmic clicking — you didn’t need to know all of the story, but a focus on the goalies was always a popular one. Players being called up to the NHL happened so regularly, it was hardly a story, but goalies? Now that got people ticking.

As the session progressed, you watched your partner question each player who came to the bench for water before they’d even had a chance to breathe. You would simply smile at each person, almost sympathetically, and do your job with the clicking of the camera.

Even as the young goalie skated over, angling toward the bench where you stood with a hand outstretched for a bottle, your lips presented a small smile as you waited for your partner to pounce. But as he was too wrapped up with Tolopilo, this goalie was left in silence … for a moment at least. You knew a little about him, of course. A young guy from Latvia, drafted a few years ago now, with a bit of a rocky start to the season. His eyes met yours as the blue and green mask was raised from his face, lips curled into a smile at the first glance.

You spoke without a second thought. It had been some years now since you ended things with your ex, but you’d spent a few years learning Latvian for them — it had been years since you had any reason to use it. 

“Sveiki…” 

Artūrs blinked. The smile on his lips disappeared as confusion was etched in its place. He’d been in Canada for a while now, with only the occasional passing player conversation to give him that little piece of home. He’d never expected this woman to come out with that.

“Sveiki.” The goalie quietly replied, leaning his weight forward upon the boards beside you. “You’re Latvian?”

You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping through your lips as the camera lowered, your body turning to almost mirror his as you leaned upon the boards.

“I’m not Latvian, but my ex was. I learned some from when we were together.” 

As you spoke, he watched you closely as the smile returned to his face. A smile that you couldn’t help but find contagious. He nodded slowly, thinking silently to himself before his blocker hand began to shake. The glove removed, his hand wiping upon his jersey before it was offered across to you with a grin.

“I’m Artūrs,” He spoke with a little more confidence, capturing your gaze beneath his dark eyes. They were easy to get lost in as you looked at him. “But this lot mostly call me Arty.” 

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, Arty.” You hummed as your hand came to meet his, a slight look of amusing disgust at the sweaty hand of the goaltender. Needless to say it was enough to make the young goalie laugh.

Releasing his hand with a playful swat, you too would wipe your hand upon your jumper as he laughed. You couldn’t blame him, and you too found it funny, but a sweaty hand was not  what you wanted.

“Piedodiet.” He spoke through the laughter, head cocking as he watched you. Your eyes narrowed playful in response to his apology.

“I’m not sure that I believe that you’re sorry.” You found yourself teasing in response, the camera growing heavy in your hands as it sat idle. If your partner looked over, it would look as though you were helping him with his job — but far from it. You were enjoying yourself, more than you realised at the time.

He gave no response, just the rising and falling of his brows. A cheeky grin at his lips as the hand returned the blocker, the bottle returned to it’s place on the boards.

“Will I see you around here more?” Arty called out as he took a few strides away from where you stood. He hoped, silently, that you’d say yes. That you’d be back to photograph and chat more. For whatever reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet, he wanted to see more of you.

It was your turn to stay silent, shrugging with shoulders and hands. You had no idea if your job would bring you back to the Abbotsford Centre, but you hoped that it would.

And as the training session came to end, your partner returned to you with a notepad full of notes and a voice recorder full to burst, you gave a lingering glance back to the goalie as he took his first steps from the ice, and met your eyes with a smile.

Months passed and you had often thought of the grinning Latvian goalie of the Abbotsford Canucks. Your job hadn’t taken you back to the little suburb of Vancouver, though you’d occasionally catch the games on TV. A little curiosity peaking as you’d remember the conversation with him — sometimes, you’d catch yourself smiling as you thought about it. You’d watch his games when you could and read the news in which he featured.

You couldn’t say that you missed him, you barely knew him, but you wanted to know him … You wanted to be able to miss him.

March rolled around, the end of the regular season was in sight and you’d taken the lead in photography coverage of the Vancouver Canucks for a while now — you’d become a regular at the Rogers Arena, and knew most of the faces of players, staff and partners. You’d even become friends with a number of the wives and girlfriends. You were a familiar face to all.

And you were one of the first on the scene, with your partner in tow, at the announcement of the press conference. Demko’s injury was the worst kept secret in the city, and you’d all been waiting for them to announce it. To know which lucky goalie was getting the call up from Abbotsford.

Journalists and photographers piled into the large room with whispers and nods of acknowledgement. Everyone waiting for Tocchet to make the announcement, and your heart skipped a little beat when he did … for the grinning goalie, Artūrs Šilovs would be taking up the role of back-up in Demko’s absence. 

You wasted no time in getting down to the rink following the announcement, you knew that all the reporters would be clamouring for a word with the captain and the rookie goalie. As the flood of journalists began through the arena, the players were already leaving the ice with only the two goalies remaining with Clarkie. Many left to find the captain and coaches, while a few photographers, yourself included, would snap what shots they could of the two goaltenders.

Your stomach did a spin to see him again, the grin seemingly stuck with glue upon your lips — it had been months, surely he wouldn’t not remember you, you thought. But as his eyes glanced across to the wall of photographers, his gaze did linger upon you. Beneath his mask, he did grin. He’d spent months hoping to see you in Abbotsford, at his training or his game. It was a bitter disappointment when another photographer had been sent down in your place.

And as the nod was given for both goalies to leave the ice, little else mattered to him than making a beeline to you.

“Sveiki.” Arty immediately said as the helmet was raised, drifting on his skates just in front of you. Your smile spread instantly, quietly returning the hello with a hum. “I need to change, but please don’t run off.”

With a curious look etched upon your features, you silently nodded. It was the end of your working day anyway, you needed to sort through the photos of the day, but you could do that while you waited.

So sat upon a chair in the stands, laptop open and photos running through, you edited and submitted your best to your partner who would return to the office to write his piece. Gaze would snap up at the first sound of movement up the steps, it was strange to see him out of his goalie gear and in normal, casual clothing. A pair of jeans, a jumper, and glasses? There was something unexpected about that, but they suited him well. You liked the glasses' look.

“You didn’t come down to Abbotsford again.” He quietly said, the disappointment clear in his voice and on his face. And you felt the sting — but you also felt the twist in your stomach of excitement … he’d wanted to see you again, he’d thought about you.

“They moved me solely to these guys. I’m barely away from this rink now, Arty.” You sighed, hand closing the laptop which rested in your lap. You’d hold it there, fiddling with the corner as you thought. “I watched some of your games from home. I should’ve come down for one or two … to watch.”

“Do you want to go for a coffee, y/n?” Artūrs interjected, impatiently and abruptly. It was almost like he had to get it out before he could stop himself, and he was noticeably nervous as he waited for an answer.

You took a moment, watching him fiddle with the hem of his jumper as he waited — yet his smile never wavered. It was stuck, just as yours was.

“I’d like that.” You finally spoke, returning the laptop to your bag without breaking eye contact. The weight in his chest lifted immediately, a heavy exhale parting his lips as he nodded. You rose with a struggle, the camera bag always seeming to be heavier in that first moment, and Arty was quick to assist. His hand offered out, collecting the strap from your hand as it was slung onto his back with ease.

You walked from the arena together, both grinning wide with occasional glances at the other. A comfortable silence between you, it was simply a nice feeling to walk at each other’s side.

“Es priecājos jūs atkal redzēt.” He finally spoke, breaking the silence with words you didn’t quite know. Your Latvian limited to basic phrases that you learned to speak to your ex’s family during the holidays. 

“What does that mean?” You whispered, leaning a little closer.

“I’m glad to see you again.”

And your heart skipped a little beat.

[beenbaanbuun]

jewels w/ song mingi

words - 🤷‍♂️

genre - fluff

warnings - magpie hybrid!mingi, human!reader, pierced!mingi, unpierced!reader, i think that’s it? i don’t actually think there’s many warnings other than that

not proof read

——————————————————————————

there’s a bang from the hallway outside your apartment, followed swiftly by the sound of something smashing. “shit,” a deep voice calls out, the frustrated cadence of the word not at all muffled by the four walls of your living space. perhaps it’s testament to how poor the building standards are in your neighbourhood, and it’s definitely testament to how much you’re being overcharged for the cruddy apartment by your neglectful landlord. neither of those issues really seem relevant right now, though. not when your boyfriend has just knocked over the no doubt expensive vase that lives on the cabinet in the corridor. there goes another chunk of your deposit, you think to yourself as you push yourself from the sofa and aim your body in the direction of the front door.

because realistically, although there are no cameras in the hall to catch your mingi’s clumsiness at work, your landlord always seems more than happy to place the blame of any breakages on the precious man. not the dog-hybrid that lives across the hall with the hyperactive tail and penchant for playing catch with himself in the hallway, or the mother of three kids who has about as much control over them as you do the weather. no, it’s never them.

maybe it’s because magpie’s are seen to be thieving little creatures, although mingi has stolen little else other than your underwear from time to time, or maybe it’s just the species’ well documented clumsiness. whatever the reason, your landlady has a vendetta against him, and while she isn’t always right, you’re regretful to admit that this time, she definitely is.

“mingi!” you yell as you make your way to the front door. honestly, you see no point in hiding the perpetrator of this act of mindless clumsiness from your neighbour’s this time; not when he’s already loudly announced himself with his earlier exclamation of surprise. it’s actually rather more freeing than your regular approach of ‘this will never be mentioned again; no one knows it was you.’ this time, at least you have the room to be angry about your deposit slipping away before your eyes.

you tug the door open with a ferocity rarely seen from you, sticking your head into the liminal space to see the damage done. it’s not really a surprise when you see the white haired man standing cluelessly over a pile of broken ceramic, wings timidly tucked behind his back as he stares down at his blunder. a heavy sigh leaves your lips as you desperately try to cool your annoyance. while it might help rid you of the negativity bubbling inside of you, shouting at the poor guy isn’t going to help the situation.

his gaze flicks up as he hears you step into the corridor, the door to the apartment shutting gently behind you. there’s a sheepish frown on his face, the two spiked horseshoes that rest on his bottom lip glinting in the flickering overhead light. maybe your landlady should spend more money replacing lightbulbs than she does decorating with expensive objects that she knows will only be damaged over time. you watch the piercings flip side to side as his tongue anxiously plays with them in a desperate attempt to quell his nerves. it’s mirrored in the way he twists his rings and the way his eyebrow bar wobbles as his forehead scrunches up nervously.

another sigh.

“mingi,” your voice is a lot calmer this time, not wanting to make the already skittish hybrid even more so, “what happened, baby?”

upon hearing the nickname, his shoulders relax, his fingers stop fidgeting and his snake bites finally become static in his lip. you wouldn’t possibly call him that if you were mad; it would be all ‘song mingi’ this and ‘song mingi’ that. baby is reserved for when he’s being good, and you called him baby so therefore you can’t be mad.

“my wings,” he says, “they must have been flitting about on their own and they knocked the vase,” the shards on the floor make a pretty sound as he toes at them with the stainless steal tip of his shoe. it too glimmers under the annoying hallway light, and you have to restrain yourself from insisting that you continue this discussion inside where you can escape the incessant flickering.

but something that he says replays in your brain, pulling your attention away from the broken bulb. it’s nothing big, just a habit of his that you’d picked up on within a few months of knowing him. the way his wings twitch and rearrange themselves seemingly on their own whenever he’s excited is one of your favourite qualities of his. it makes him so easy to read, even when he’s trying to act all cool and stoic like he so often does. it’s adorable, the way the silky black feathers flutter behind his back as if he can’t quite keep all of his emotions inside of him, and you tell him so every time it happens.

“you’re excited about something?” you ask, taking a step closer to him.

“no,” he answers far too quick for you to believe him, “what makes you say that?”

“your wings?”

“shit.”

you can’t help the smirk on your face as he screws his face up in regret. it’s clear that he forgot about how much you adore his silly little habit and everything it means.

you take yet another step closer.

“what are you excited about?” you purr curiously as mingi does everything in his power to avoid your gaze. those big black eyes that you adore so much seem to look everywhere except your face; it amuses you to no end. you take yet another step closer, only this time with a wide grin on your lips. “tell me!”

“it’s nothing important,” he deflects, shrugging his shoulders at you. it’s hard to resist the urge to giggle when his wings replicate the movement.

you take one final step, the ceramic crunching beneath the sole of your slippers as you take yourself chest to chest with him. there’s no escaping your gaze when you’re standing so close to him; his eyes find your face immediately, his large black pupils growing to take up even more space in the whites of his eye. from this angle, it almost looks like the entirety of his eyes are black, but as he flits his gaze from one side of your face to the other, you can see the slightest peek of his whites in the corners. it’s his wordless way of saying ‘i love you’, although you’re not entirely sure if he’s aware of just how often it happens.

“it’s important to me,” you whisper, shuffling impossibly closer until you’re toe-to-toe with him. even without his heavy-duty platforms on, he stands a good few inches taller than you, but you don’t mind the awkward, only slightly painful angle that you have to hold your neck at. in fact, you almost find it too silly not to smile at, standing there staring up at your overgrown birdie like a chick begging for a worm from its mother. he must too, because despite his nerves over the vase and the secret exciting thing he’s desperate to keep hidden, he bears his teeth at you in a matching grin.

“you always say the things i do are important to you,” he comments.

“because they are!” you reply with a simple fact. mingi is very, very important to you.

he hums, pursing his lips in contemplation. the temptation to lean up and kiss him is strong, but your curiosity gets the better of you; you need to know what he’s excited about or the anticipation might just kill you.

“i got you a present,” he eventually says, “it’s nothing big; i know you said cut down on the jewellery for a while.”

“i have nowhere left to store it all!”

“your body?”

“and look like a walking, talking hunk of metal? i don’t think so,” you can barely tell with his pupils so big, but he rolls his eyes.

so cute…

“i like to have all my precious things in one place,” he murmurs through a pout. the sentiment makes your heart skip a beat; it’s always nice to be told you’re just as precious to your loved ones as they are to you. “but i only got you one necklace this time—”

“mingi!” you scoff out a chuckle.

“shush!” he leans forward to ‘peck’ you gently with the tip of his nose. it’s more sweet than anything, but you take it how he wants you to; a gentle scold that would put any other scoundrel in their place. you make a show of zipping your lips with your fingers, twisting the lock once you reach the corner, and tossing the key onto the floor to sit amongst the rubble. perhaps the way you stomp on the invisible object and smush it into the floor with your foot is a little dramatic, but you do it anyway. the magpie can’t exactly complain; he isn’t exactly on brian cox’s level of theatrics himself. “a single necklace and a pair of earrings.”

a pair of earrings?

your hand flies up to your ear to double check what you know to be true; yep! definitely no piercing there. just a plan old earlobe untouched by the terrifying metal needles that you’ve seen enter mingi’s skin time and time again. usually it’s the one getting the body-mod that would faint, but you’ve woken up in a chair with a concerned boyfriend hanging over you more than a few times. it’s safe to say you’ve never even considered it, let alone somehow subconsciously gone and done it.

a pair of earrings… why?

“but—”

“no piercings,” mingi finishes your sentence with a knowing glint in his eyes. “that’s why they’re clip on,” he looks so proud of himself, his wings fluttering gently over his shoulders. the oil-like feathers reflect the annoying lightbulb too, but this time you rather like the way it illuminates them. perhaps if you beg hard enough he’ll let you groom his wings tonight. it’s not the right time of month just yet, but you’re sure with the right amount of puppy eyes you can get him to give in. what you wouldn’t do just to feel them beneath your fingers, silky and soft. “we can match, my pretty little treasure.”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, parting them ever so slightly.

“yeah,” you nod, “i’d like that, my pretty little magpie.”

[legomonkiefics]

wukong x reader x macaque where both monkeys get jealous of each other and start fighting and reader has to be like “lads i have two hands”

🧡👑 A Solution Takes Three — Wukong and Macaque x GN Reader HCs 💜🌙

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁

- When it came to feelings, neither immortal monkey could be said to be very good at them. Wukong tended to bottle up everything and only communicate through humor, and getting vulnerability out of Macaque was like trying to get water to fall up

- What they did do well, however, was showmanship. Wukong used his confidence to try and impress you with big and small acts of heroism or battle tactics. Macaque used his calmer approaches to give you subtle flirting veiled as little playful jabs

- It didn't take long at all for the two to figure out what the other was doing. They knew one another's mannerisms well enough by now, it was easy to spot. And, following immediately after, they became both subtly and not so subtly irritated at one another

- It mainly contained petty things around you, like taking turns tripping one another or the two sharing embarrassing stories about the other monkey. They both acted like it was all in good nature, of course, while glaring at each other whenever you weren't looking

- It escalated soon, to a degree that was noticeable to you when it turned into shove-fights and growling in front of you. You sat them both down, explaining that you didn't favor one more than the other and that you cared for them equally. Though the two immortals were still a little huffy about the situation, they admittedly felt better at the reassurance

- Once you mentioned sharing, there had to be a few more conversations about it. Macaque and Wukong both knew what polyamory was, as it wasn't uncommon in ancient China, but they moreso wanted to know how this would play out between the three of you

- Above all else, they were both concerned about getting their fair share of attention from you. Both will easily get put in a moody state if they think you're favoring the other. A lot of the talking was about negotiating, about working your schedules to find time to be together

- You will definitely have to set aside time to give them individual dates to help reassure them, but once things get settled, they're actually rather comfortable with the arrangements. There might be some fighting here and there still, but they try to be on good behavior with you

[merbear25]

Growing up with them (Kid, Law, Buggy, Caesar)

There are so many avenues for this fun ‘what if’ scenario. It’s not possible to have befriended all of them, so why not add a few extra possibilities? They were your neighbor, so there were only a few ways your relationship could go.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons/scenarios, some fluff, ‘neighbor’s kid’ vibes, slightly humorous tone, AU territory so some speculation has been applied, spoilers for Dressrosa(?)

Kid: feral child, feral child! No one can tell me that he wasn’t the wildest child when he was growing up.

He was sucked into his hobbies involving building and metal. He loved roughhousing, backyard wrestling, cookouts, and swimming pools. Summer was his favorite season growing up because it gave him every excuse to do whatever he wanted, and no one had the right to tell him he shouldn’t.

Water soakers, playing ball in the house and inevitably breaking something, sharing scary stories around the campfire, and probably sent to summer camp so his parents could have a break: these are the vibes I get when I think of his childhood.

Being friends: you had to meet his freak because he wasn’t going to slow down.

He wanted to explore, so being the adventurous type would bode nicely for your friendship.

You’d spend some days down by the lake catching frogs only to set them free shortly after. He was very much interested in building all sorts of things, so you’d help him gather materials, which often left you venturing out to strange places.

He threw the classic “What are you? Chicken?” at you when you weren’t as gung-ho as he was about anything.

As reckless as he could be, he’d do well with a friend who could be the voice of reason, helping guide him when he was too in the zone to see the reality of the situation.

He’d argue with you, get mad even. This boy’s stubbornness wasn’t going to allow you to talk him out of something if he had his heart set on it. He was either going to listen to you or he was going to have to learn the hard way.

Hope you didn’t tell him “I told you” for your own sake.

This hot-headed boy could be a handful, making it hard to avoid arguments at times. Being of the same temperament would make blow-ups a recurring issue. 

That being said, you were still children and most likely got heated over things like “which character would win in a fight” or about who rightfully won your card game.

Even if he was always on the move and doing something, I could see him enjoying something calmer like catching fireflies. You could take the jars you captured them in to your secret hideout where you’d camp out for the night.

He played rough though, so if you ever agreed to wrestling, there was a slim chance of you making it out without some sort of injury.

Uninterested in you: you were a bore to him. There was no sugar coating it.

Even from the few interactions you had, those were enough for both of you to realize that you didn’t want to bother.

Having similar hobbies helps a lot when building friendships, especially when it comes to children. However, I can’t say that this would be the main reason for him not being friends with someone. I could see it being boiled down to more of a personality issue.

You couldn’t really find common ground, not that he was really looking for any.

He never got why you liked some of the things you did, and you felt the same about him.

You viewed the other as weird and tried your best to ignore each other. That was easier said than done with someone like him, though.

An enemy/competition: he’s competitive, he’s aggressive, and the fact that you were just as good if not better than him made his blood boil.

You pushed his buttons and even when he screamed at you, you kept pushing. But, he was going to show you that he was no one to mess with.

Using the knowledge he’d gained from tinkering with various objects, he set up a few pranks. Some were a tad cruel because he wanted to humiliate you. 

Even if you saw yourselves as enemies, he had mixed feelings when one of his pranks made you cry. Depending on a lot of factors, he may send you anonymous sweets (cookies, chocolate, or candies) to make you feel a smidge better.

When you were back on your feet, you both kept your competition under more control, though there were times you were both tempted to cross that line again.

Law: a tough cookie to crack and even more so after escaping from his home country. I tried to take into account his personality before and after that incident.

He was very determined academically, part of which was to make his parents proud but the other was from his own genuine interest. Dedicating time to studying, enjoying sitting outside while reading, and could get irritated easily when his routine was disrupted: he appreciated a sense of calmness and balance but still had moments when he’d lose his temper.

There weren’t many who went out of their way to befriend him because of his unique hobbies, so that made him more of a loner. That wasn’t anything to be sad about in his opinion. He enjoyed his alone time and the few people he hung around were cherished.

Being friends: you mostly likely approached him, to which he was standoffish for quite a while.

With all his staring at you, observing your habits and quirks, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being looked at under a microscope.

It was his way of building up the confidence to hold a decent conversation with you. Once getting a good enough read on you, he’d be much more open to chatting. You’d feel a little less like a stranger even before you began talking to each other.

Being attentive would be appreciated, but he wouldn’t really care too much if his friend was clumsy or careless from time to time. As long as you were kind-hearted, he could overlook those small flaws rather easily.

Although being a nerd wouldn’t be a necessity by any means, it would be fun for him to geek out with someone over Germa 66.

Let’s say you were a big fan of them like he was.

His eyes lit up when you first mentioned it and he ran to show you his favorite merchandise. You’d play with the action figures together, probably draw them while sitting quietly, and then ooh and aah over each other’s art saying what you liked most about their drawings.

Now, let’s say you weren’t a fan of them.

He wouldn’t bring them up unless you asked about it. Maybe you made a comment on one of his figurines, for example. Despite wanting to go on and on about them, he picked up on your body language and sensed it wasn’t your thing. That was fine with him, though. It wasn’t his only hobby, after all.

Even though he was far from the type to take risks and would most likely protest against any dangerous activities (i.e. baking and/or cooking without parental supervision), he really needed someone to push him out of his comfort zone. The little nudges from someone he came to trust were more helpful than he ever realized.

Neither friend nor foe: he was cautious of you for a little while, trying to gauge what your deal was before ultimately deciding he didn’t really want to engage with you.

Perhaps you were too brash for him. He wasn’t a scaredy cat, but he was extremely cautious, meaning being friends with someone who was too reckless would stress him out and probably make him feel like a babysitter.

You may be too quiet. He could be pretty quiet himself, but trying to befriend someone who was even more soft spoken could present some challenges.

Maybe you were far too unpredictable. He enjoyed order and normalcy, which would mean being around someone who spoke and/or acted before thinking would have him practically breaking out in hives.

At best, he avoided you and let you do whatever it was you were doing.

At worst, he shot glares at you whenever you crossed the line.

All in all, he tried not to involve himself in your life too much.

An enemy: there were so few people who lit a fire under him to be viewed as competition, so you most likely took the enemy title.

The easiest way to have made an enemy out of him would be upsetting his little sister. He was a protective big brother. They fought like any other siblings, sure, but he never tolerated others treating her like that.

He’d be on you like a hawk at that point. So much as breathe in the wrong direction and he’d be there to scare you straight.

Intimidation would be his strongest weapon—vaguely threatening you with his knowledge of human anatomy and the least frequented places where you lived.

If you just came after him and disregarded his sister, it’d take a bit longer for him to deem you as a full blown enemy. He’d simply hate you for the longest time until you just pushed a sore spot that sent him over the edge—giving you nightmares at the very least.

Buggy: How patient are you? Because he’d be throwing you curveballs no matter the relationship you two had.

He was known as the loud kid and class clown. He wanted so much attention which made it hard for others to ignore him. There were a lot of mixed feelings about him, especially in the neighborhood.

Was the kid who sent out invites to his birthday to every single kid in class, in the neighborhood, and at the corner store just to have a few show up to his party. He kept his head high, even if it was getting to him.

Being friends: it wasn’t hard getting him to talk to you. Hell, it wasn’t even that difficult to get him to hang out, but he was very wishy-washy with his interactions.

He never failed to put himself out there. You couldn’t help but think that was endearing.

I can’t necessarily see him having been partial to his friend being introverted, ambivert, or extroverted. A friend was a friend, and so long as they treated him well, that type of stuff wasn’t of any importance.

However, it would be a must for you to have a sense of humor. There was no way around that. He wanted to laugh and make you laugh, so someone who was the more serious type perhaps would have made things much too difficult.

Though he put up a good front, making people think he was some tough guy, he was super soft and squishy on the inside—really just needing someone to be vulnerable around. That was something he could find in you. Though it took what felt like ages to get to that point, it was all worth it.

Sleepovers were a massive thing for him. Your parents liked him, albeit thinking he was just a tad odd, but were happy that you had made a friend nonetheless.

There were tons of games you’d play together which tended to involve forts: pillow, blanket, and cardboard mostly. When you played pirates, he insisted on being the captain. Despite his confidence in leading you and your crew of stuffed animals, you ended up having to take control on most missions.

Even when you thought you were having a good time hanging out with him, he had a tendency to leave suddenly, most of the time making up an obvious lie. When you tried talking to him about it, he was often dismissive and just wanted to forget about it.

You weren’t sure how to take that. It kinda hurt. You quickly understood not to take those moments to heart and just boiled it down to Buggy just being Buggy. Even if that were the case, you hoped he would eventually lower those walls—one day.

Weird in between: You caught him peeking over your fence and popping back down. He wanted more friends, but he wasn’t confident.

He couldn’t gauge you, couldn’t figure out who you were exactly and the way you carried yourself made him want to keep his distance.

As hard it was for others to ignore him, it was almost just as difficult for him to do the same to them. He was always aware of everyone, or at the very least, he checked them out before deciding if they were worth the trouble.

Even if you were indifferent towards him, he’d try his darndest to get on your good side. If he didn’t care for you all that much, he’d wait to throw it in your face before you ever had the chance to humiliate him.

You didn’t know what his deal was, and to be fair he didn’t know what his was either which led to him being so hot and cold with you.

He tried just ignoring you, but when he heard you laughing and having a generally good time with the other kids, he couldn’t help himself. He was curious and eavesdropped on your conversations, wondering why he wasn’t a part of the fun.

Him needing to best you: maybe you didn’t hate each other. Perhaps at the most you strongly disliked the other. Either way he wanted to prove how much better he was.

Buggy was all over the place. He’d try insulting you, challenging you, but then if you took him up on it, he’d increase the gap between you.

He was never short of excuses as to why he couldn’t keep to his own challenges against you. When you eventually went home after realizing he wasn’t showing up yet again, he twisted it into making it seem like you chickened out.

It was hard for you to see him as an enemy because of how void of seriousness he was. He had days when he thought you were mortal enemies, followed by days he thought you were cool with him, but then right back to being wary of you.

Caesar: Hope that you are just as unhinged as he is, otherwise you were in for a rough childhood. His voice would carry through the streets, alerting the entire neighborhood that he was up to something—none of it good. 

Whenever you looked out your window or passed by his house, there would be smoke, sudden loud noises (mostly bangs and explosions), or possibly a strange faint odor that made you think twice before asking about.

Generally speaking, I imagine him having been far more reckless with experiments and even when regarding the manipulative side to his personality. Not necessarily feral but just more brash.

Being friends: you’d have to keep up with him otherwise he’d just think you were dragging him down.

Being adventurous would go a long way with him. He wouldn’t have much patience for someone being overly cautious to the point they were practically a scaredy cat. 

That being said, he’d need a friend who was the voice of reason during his more reckless moments. Sure, you got an eye roll and huff for “not being fun” but you gave a sense of balance.

You’d earn bonus points if you were just as into the macabre as he was—pushing the limits could get rather…messy, after all. You could be his assistant all you liked but being a partner in crime would be the cherry on top.

He’d never admit it, but he got scared easily. However, this was reserved for when he felt in danger.

If you were brave, he would hide behind you, putting his faith in you that you’d chase off whatever he was afraid of. If you weren’t brave, self-preservation would more than likely take over, and he’d shamelessly leave you behind—desperate to distance himself from the posing threat.

He’s competitive. He’s also a narcissist. Because of these qualities, I’d argue that being interested in science could go either in or against your favor. 

In your favor: you didn’t try to upstage him, especially if you turned out to be wrong because you’d just end up getting on his nerves in that case. Being into another field of science might make it a bit easier because he could feel like he out-shined you. Plus, it could be more fun pairing your expertise with his to create ungodly creations. If you were right about and/or better at something, you didn’t rub it in—you were humble even if he wasn’t. Otherwise his ego would take a few hits, making him pout and want to get back at you.

Against your favor: You were more clever in certain ways on top of being competitive. I think he’d enjoy some competition with a friend but only to an extent because eventually it’d turn into a rivalry. 

Everyone in the neighborhood would loathe you and forbid their children from interacting with you for a multitude of reasons: potential harm, corrupting their ‘little angels’, and you two being bad eggs to name a few.

Your parents would probably try forbidding you from hanging out with him, believing he was nothing but a bad influence on you. Although they may have had a point, that didn’t stop you.

And you are…?: you were just kinda there in a sense—not interesting enough for him to have engaged with or irritating enough to have humiliated.

Maybe there were times you tried talking to him but due to your approach, he deemed you as unworthy of his presence. 

Maybe he just didn’t like you for no reason in particular: being viewed as unspecial, one that blended too much into the crowd, and overall lackluster—not even being worthy of recognition as, well, anyone.

You kept your distance once you noticed others, whom he saw as mere pawns, had horrific “accidents”.

An enemy/competition: you rubbed him in all the wrong ways.

Whether you’d intended it or not, you wormed your way into his mind and refused to let go of the hold you had.

He had the same effect on you, making rivals of each other quickly and eventually full blown enemies.

The easiest way for you to have done this was either besting him at chemistry or generally being far too clever for your own good, making him feel shown up in one way or another.

He didn’t just want to be the best, he needed to be. Meeting someone who could beat him at his own game was infuriating and fueled his desire to tear you down. There were times when he succeeded, but there were also plenty when you were triumphant.

No matter how much you may have disliked or even hated each other, you gave the other the incentive to keep pushing and bettering yourselves like no one else had.

Thanks to your childhood rivalry and constant pushing, you both had unknowingly set the other up for success in their careers. I guess you should thank each other…not that you ever would, though.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

I may or not be the same anon from earlier with the Alpha!Wrio and shy reader ask but I love your writing a lot lol! Would you also be interested to give us some headcannons about Alpha!Jing Yuan and when his omega mate throws a tantrum and what he does about it??

Glad you like what I write! :D

This is interesting and made me think about why exactly an omega would throw a tantrum in the first place.

cw: omegaverse

Omegas throw tantrums when their needs aren't met so it's important to figure out just what exactly triggered it or things can evolve into a total melt down.

When Alpha!Jing Yuan's mate throws a tantrum he calmly assess the situation and tries to figure out what exactly set them off. He takes great care of his omega so for them to throw a tantrum he's more than a little worried.

He first checks to see if they're in any danger at all. He doesn't sense nor see any danger but he does notice that the window of their room is open. It's faint but he smells the scent of another omega and checks outside the window to see some knights that are crowded around a young foxian. Ah, they must have just presented and are being escorted away. He leaves the window open but turns on their fan to make the scent escape the room faster.

Next he checks to see if their nest is intact as a nest disturbed and broken apart can send an omega into a fit. He notices a few pillows in disarray but doesn't attempt to fix it or he might make it worse. He also makes note that their snacks and water are low and while he doesn't leave just yet he will make sure to restock for them.

Then he checks himself making sure he smells just fine but he notices the scents of the officials he had to deal with today on his coat. As soon as he notices he takes the offending cloth off and tosses it into the hamper to be dealt with at a later date.

Jing Yuan sighs in relief. It seems that it was just a bunch of little things that piled up onto another that set his omega off. Not the best scenario but he leaves the room to fetch them more snacks and water and returns to a growling omega as they fuss over their nest. He offers the snacks quietly and while they glare at him they don't snap at him and take the offerings peacefully.

He doesn't enter their nest but sits outside it and scents whatever items they pass to him with pleasure until each and every object has it's place. His omega seems calmer now but he can't be sure until they welcome him into their nest, so he instead closes the window and turns off the fan to let his scent fill the room. He sits back down on his place on the floor by their nest watching them slowly calm down.

It takes a while but once they're all settled they finally allow him into their nest. It's definitely much better that before, no wonder they threw a tantrum, all those stressors couldn't have been pleasant. He wraps them in his arms and purrs at their purrs. Hopefully this won't happen again anytime soon.

[eunwhore]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ 𝐒𝐞𝐱 𝐄𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐌.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. In which you and Megumi get a special special lesson for Satoru Gojo himself after he learns about your relationship.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. Satoru Gojo being a menace to society; Suggestive by the end; Megumi and the reader are of age, of course !

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 1120 words

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Reader x Fushiguro Megumi (ft. Gojo)

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @dearmymoon @lacopinedechan - 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

"Alright, kids."

You don't know why, but feeling stuck in a classroom alone with Satoru Gojo and your boyfriend doesn't sound right, especially when Satoru Gojo himself looks like he's about to crack another one of his dumb jokes.

Not to mention that your mentor called this session a "special special lesson" to put you in this situation. An honorable mention to the double special that didn't reassure you at all. Megumi, the one stuck here with you, seems to be a lot calmer than you are, probably because he's used to the white-haired man's antics.

"Before I start this special special lesson with you." the way he wiggled his eyebrows while phrasing a double special again sent shivers down your spine.

"I want to say that I'm very happy for you too !" Oh no. Those are the first two words that come to your mind when you hear his exalted appreciations. He knows. It was probably dumb to think you could hide your relationship with the six-eyes's holder, but it was a nice try, right ?

"What do you mean ?" You turn to your newly claimed boyfriend after he speaks for the first time since this comedy started. "Oh, you know what I mean, Megumi." You were petrified, frightened, or any word that resonates with fear itself.

"But we're not here to talk about your beautiful love, even if I would adore to gossip with you guys." Your professor sends a disgusting wink to your boyfriend, and you didn't waste a minute to launch a killer look at him to make it clear that you DON'T want him to spill the beans about what's going on between the two of you. Fortunately, he catches that look and is quick to reassure you with a glance that only you could read.

However, your attention quickly returns to the class sorcerer about to continue his lecture. "I was given a very important mission by Shoko, as you two are still young and probably unaware of how this world works, and we don't want any unwanted babies running around in this school."

You could die just by hearing what your senior just said, not to mention the fact that his right hand reveals a whiteboard covered in notes that you shouldn't dare to read right now. A disgusted look appears on your face as you quickly hide your reddened cheeks in your hands, looking straight at your desk.

"The most important thing you need to know about any sexual activities is that you must protect yourselves!" You can only guess that your boyfriend must be in the same state as you, the only difference is probably that he manages to hide his emotions better than you. "Not only because it prevents pregnancy but it's also important for preventing any nasty diseases you can get."

It's crazy to realize it, but your professor has never been this serious before. He gives his lesson like a professional in that matter, and it's disgusting to think of him in that way. As you finally gather the courage to look up again, you're not surprised to find your boyfriend completely emotionless, staring at the board, perhaps with a bit too much conviction. Is he really listening to these instructions?

"One of the effective protections is this little thing." After digging into the left pocket of his uniform, Mr. Satoru pulls a square package out of it, and you already know the next few minutes will be extremely long. Now you understand why he entered the classroom with a banana in his hand earlier today.

You let your body fall onto your bed as soon as you enter the room. A class shouldn't be so tiring; the subject itself drained the energy out of you, and it's even worse when it's Satoru Gojo teaching you how to put a condom on a banana for a whole 30 minutes.

Megumi, on the other hand, seems to be a lot more relaxed, or it's just his natural unbothered look that misleads you. He's quick to join you, lying next to your figure, and by muscle memory, your body relocates against his, your face hiding in the crook of his neck. You are still very embarrassed by everything that you've been through this afternoon. "I want to disappear."

You earn a cute giggle from your lover that resonates into his chest, his arms wrap around your inviting body. "He just wanted to help..." He answers, defending his senior.

"Well, there were more discreet ways to help us." You sigh as you roll on your back, staring at your ceiling before the black-haired boy appears in your vision, and obviously, you can't help but search for his eyes.

"Discreet doesn't exist in Satoru Gojo's vocabulary." he jokes, even if he's definitely speaking the truth. His hand slides on your cheeks while his eyes take a moment to admire the features of your face. Wanting to get rid of this worried expression, he leans to place a soft kiss on your forehead. "At least we'll be prepared when the day comes." he adds. You hate but love seeing this look on his face; it's one you've never seen before, and you can't help but be taken aback a little.

"Are you flirting with me, Megumi Fushiguro ?" You raise one of your eyebrows when you feel his hands wander on your body. It would be a lie to say you've never gotten handsy before, but now it feels different after receiving all of this new information. It looks like your lover has been influenced to explore this part of a relationship. You both had no experience in that matter, but if there was one person you would want to explore with, it would be with him and him only.

"Maybe I am." he whispers, and you feel shivers running down your spine; he really has that effect on you. "Of course, only if you feel comfortable with it." There he is, your sweetheart, the one who always puts your well-being before anything else.

"Well... I got to say that... I'm kinda curious about... you know..." You are still a little shy about it, as your cheeks return to a shade of red, your boyfriend smiles softly at your demeanor, finding you oh so adorable when you're shy like this. "Let's explore each other at your rhythm, hmm ?" He offers before pressing a second kiss to your kiss, then a third one and a fourth one, going from your cheek to the base of your neck. "Good thing Satoru gave me a box of condoms."

"He gave you WHAT ?"

© eunwhore 2023. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 60)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

"Actually, I am sorry, but I should get some sleep. I am heading back to Dublin tomorrow after filming ," he said catching a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"That's okay Cill. Maybe next time? I am back on set in two weeks and we could have that drink then," Annabelle  replied, trying to hide her disappointment.

Cillian couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew that he had led her on, but he couldn't bring himself to cross the line with her. Not when there was still a chance that he could work things out with you one day. Despite, the attraction he felt towards her was literally zero, so

he knew that he couldn't let himself fall down that rabbit hole, especially when there was a child involved.

With that, Cillian said his goodbyes, and headed back to his apartment before, on the following day, after a busy day on set, he took the last plane home to Dublin, arriving at around 11 o'clock that night.

He was excited to see Mara tomorrow and did not yet know that she had been quite unsettled all day when she was with you. As usual, he ignored your calls and you refused to message him if this was how he wanted things to be.

Despite, you figured that Mara just had a cold. It wasn't the first time she got sick and ran a fever, and you knew it was just a matter of monitoring her condition and making sure she got enough rest.

By the late evening, her fever had gone down, and she was sleeping soundly until, sometime around one o'clock that night, her coughing woke you up.

It was loud and unlike anything you have ever heard before. It was almost like a deep bark, combined with the sound a small dog would make, only amplified. You immediately got up from your bed and went straight to her, holding her in your arms.

By the time you jolted towards her, she was crying inconsolably. Her tiny little body racked with shivers and the cough became worse pretty quickly. 

It was clear that this wasn't just a run-of-the-mill cold. Panicked, you quickly scooped Mara up and called your mother who, expectedly, did not answer. 

While you tried ringing your mother, Mara's cough got better again before picking up once more. This time, it was even louder than before and you contemplated driving her to the hospital. 

You had no idea what was wrong with Mara and, in your frantic state, you couldn’t help but think of the worst-case scenarios. You tried to calm yourself down by taking deep breaths and repeating positive affirmations, but it was proving to be a daunting task.

In the end, and in your state of panic, you tried to call Cillian who seemed to be much calmer in situations like this. When Mara hurt herself on the playground, he was the one who calmed you down but now, with the way things were between you, you only dialed his number reluctantly.

It rang several times before he picked up, confused and tired. "Fuck Y/N, it's one o'clock. Is everything alright?" he murmured into the phone, already fearing that something was wrong since, usually, you wouldn't call him at this hour.

"Cillian, I-I'm sorry to call so late, but Mara, she's-she's sick and I don't know what to do," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to get the words out.

"Y/N, you need to calm down," Cillian said, his tone immediately changing from groggy to alert. "What's wrong with her?" he then wanted to know while Mara started coughing again in the background.

"She has a high fever and she's been coughing a lot. It sounds really bad, Cillian,"  you replied, your voice shaking as you tried to stay calm for Mara's sake.

There was a brief pause, and when Cillian spoke again, his voice was filled with concern. "I'll come over," he then said, already getting dressed and running down the stairs of his house. "It sounds like she has croup," he continued, as he unlocked his car and you did not know what he was talking about.

"What?" you  mumbled, confusion clouding your already panicked mind.

"Croup," Cillian repeated, as he started the engine of his car. "Max used to get it too when he was younger.  I will be there in a sec,"  he said, already on his way.

Meanwhile, you held Mara tightly, trying to comfort her as best as you could. Her body trembled with every cough and her color looked drained. The look in her eyes was one of fear and confusion, making it harder for you to maintain your composure.

When Cillian arrived two minutes later, you already walked to the door, hearing his car pull up in the driveway. You opened the door, not bothering with formal greetings, as Mara coughed loudly.

"She's been doing this for the past half hour, and I tried to give her medicine to bring down her fever but, it's still really high," you acted out your worried expression to show him, pulling Mara closer to you.

"Dada," she moaned, her little voice barely audible above the harshness of her coughs. The sight of her in distress pierced Cillian's heart and a raw, primal protectiveness surged through him, filling him with determination to do whatever it took to make her feel better.

"Let me take her," he said, reaching for Mara, but you hesitated. "She's defiantly got croup. She sounds exactly what Max used  to sound like when he had it," Cillian repeated, as he held Mara tightly in his arms, trying to soothe her by gently rubbing circles on her back. He could feel her little body shaking from the force of her coughs, and his heart ached at the sight of her looking so small and helpless.

"What's croup?" you asked, your mind whirling with questions and fears for your daughter's health. Cillian looked at you, a steady gaze in his eyes as if trying to reassure you with his presence alone.

"It's just a shitty cough some kids get when they are sick," he answered, softly. "I've been through this before with Max, too many times actually. He used to get it once every two months," Cillian explained before carrying Mara upstairs and you followed him quickly. 

He held Mara tightly in his arms while walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on to full steam. 

"What are you doing?" you  asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched Cillian turn on the shower and make the bathroom fill with steam.

"The steam helps," he barely said before kicking off his shoes and helping Mara out of her Pjs, leaving her in her nappy only while she cried and coughed.  He stepped into the shower with her, making sure she was warm and didn't get too wet.

Cillian knew this would help soothe Mara's swollen airways and help her breathe more easily. He had watched Danielle do the same thing with Max before and as he sat down on the shower floor with her, fully clothed himself, rocking her gently, you couldn't help but calm down.

"Shh, it's alright baby," he murmured softly, running his free hand through her fine, golden hair while he maneuvered to keep the water away from her face with another hand. Mara let out a weak cry, momentarily quieting down only to resume coughing again a few seconds later.

The cough, however, took on a different tone. It was gentler , more subdued. Mara settled down into Cillian's arms, her tiny frame fitting perfectly against his own. Cillian held her fiercely, gratitude washing over him as he realized just how much he loved this child. He loved her beyond all measure, more than any person or thing he had ever encountered in his life.

"Do you have ibuprofen or paracetamol?" he asked, his tone gentle.

"Yes, I have both," you replied, your voice filled with relief. "She had paracetamol four hours ago though, so I will get some iboprofen. I will be right back,"  you said before heading towards the kitchen and rummaging through the cabinet for the medicine. When you returned to the bathroom, Cillian was holding Mara still, the steam surrounding her as she sat on his lap and you couldn't help but marvel at how powerful and protective he looked beside the vulnerable little figure of your daughter.

You handed the cup of ibuprofen to Cillian who tried hard to convince Mara to take it. She shook her head and whined until, finally, she took the spoonful from Cillian and swallowed it reluctantly. You counted the minutes, watching as Mara's cough subsided little by little, her breaths growing steadier and her fever gradually decreasing.

By the point she fell asleep, Cillian was drenched and stood up, handing her to you, wrapped up in a towel.  He looked exhausted but had a small, tired smile on his lips when he handed her to you. 

"She'll be okay," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper and you suddenly began to cry, which was something he did not expect.

"Y/N, I said she will be okay. What's wrong?"  Cillian asked, concern etched on his face as he looked at you. You were standing there in the bathroom, holding Mara who was now fast asleep in your arms. Your body was shaking with silent sobs and your eyes were overflowing with tears.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with relief that Mara was okay, overwhelmed with gratitude for Cillian and his help, overwhelmed with emotions that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"Nothing, I just...I am fucking useless at this," you said in a small voice, your shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

Cillian frowned, taking a step closer to you. "No, you're not," he said, reaching out to gently squeeze your shoulder. 

"Yes I am. I mean look at us. I had to call you because I did not know what to do and you knew exactly what she needed. I am a shit mother," you said, the tears streaming down your face.

"That's not true," Cillian said, moving closer towards you and caressing Mara's hair, soothing her some more. "In fact, I think you are the most amazing mother there is, doing all those things you do for her on your own most days," Cillian said, looking you straight in the eyes, willing you to believe him. "Plus, the only reason I knew what to do was because I lived through this already with Max. I took him to the ER the first time he coughed like this and being a paranoid parent is normal. It's good. It's natural to worry, you know," Cillian said, his soothing voice echoing through the bathroom. 

"Thanks Cillian, but I don't know. Some days I feel like a failure  as a mother," you whispered, still gripping Mara tight against your breast.

Instinctively, Cillian moved closer and gave you a warm, comforting hug without disturbing his sleeping daughter in your arms. "You're not a failure, Y/N. Don't talk that way," he said, looking into your eyes with a tight-lipped smile. You eased back into him, slowly relaxing as his arms encircled you. "Look, you did everything right. You noticed Mara was sick and you called," he reassured you before pulling away and clearing his throat.

"I should probably head back home now though," he then  said, taking a step away from you.

"No, please stay. I don't want to be alone. Not after this scare," you replied, your voice soft and pleading as you looked up at him, hope gleaming in your eyes.

Cillian hesitated for a moment, torn between what he should do and what you were asking him to. 

"Okay," he eventually said, his voice barely audible as he made up his mind. "I'll stay," he told you and you nodded quickly.

"Thank you," you murmured, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "I will just put Mara down and then get you some dry clothes, okay?" you suggested, seeing how you still had half a shelf full of Cillian's stuff, sitting in the guestroom. 

"Sure," Cillian agreed, nodding his head in acceptance before drying himself off a little while you carried Mara upstairs and placed her gently into the spare cot in your bedroom, so that she would be close by. 

You then gathered a t-shirt and pair of boxers from the guest room and  handed them to Cillian who changed quickly.

Despite your initial hesitation, having Cillian around brought a sense of comfort that you hadn't realized you were missing.

Together, you sat in the living room for a moment, calming down and basking in the silence that surrounded you after the chaos earlier. Then, you decided to return to bed, and Cillian followed you up, taking a book from the shelf in the guest room and resting it on the nightstand beside his side of the bed.

Despite feeling exhausted from his busy day, Cillian knew that sleep wouldn't come easily tonight as he was being in your house again, which was something he had tried to avoid.  He sighed and looked at the time on his phone. It was already 3 in the morning, yet he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest.

On one hand, he was relieved that Mara was okay, and her condition had improved significantly after the steam treatment earlier. However, on the other hand, Cillian couldn't help but feel a mix of guilt and frustration over how things had unfolded between you in recent times. 

The following morning, after as little as five hours of sleep, you woke to the smell  of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of soft footsteps coming from the kitchen.

Cillian was already up, busy baking pancakes and when you turned over, you noticed that Mara was gone from her cot. 

You had heard her about an hour ago, but thought she had gone back to sleep, which was obviously not the case, so you got up and made your way downstairs.

"Mummy is up I think," Cillian  called from the kitchen as you entered and Mara smiled, calling out 'mama'. 

"I didn't realize you got her up?" you asked, a little tired and confused and Cillian explained to you that he came in to check on her,  realizing that she was wide awake and seemingly remained quiet to let you sleep.

"She's just been sitting in her cot, playing with Gigi Giraffe," Cillian added, smiling softly at Mara who giggled at his words.

"Gigi" she repeated and you felt your heart swell with warmth at the sight of the two of them together and couldn't help but feel grateful for Cillian's presence. It was nice to have someone else to share the responsibility of taking care of Mara with, especially after the scare from last night.

"Thank you for last night Cillian. I really needed you here," you said, sincerely. And you meant it.

"It's fine Y/N. Honestly," he responded as you made your way towards Mara, hugging her tightly from behind and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her golden curls tickled your nose and the smell of baby shampoo and clean laundry overwhelmed your senses.

The sense of gratitude shifted inside of you, turning into a warm, fuzzy feeling that you recognized as happiness.

As you let go of Mara, you turned to Cillian who was still standing next to the kitchen counter, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

"I don't know how good these pancakes will taste, but hey, I did make them from scratch," he  said, with a small, shy smile.

You couldn't help but return the smile as you watched him, amazed at how he managed to pull himself together despite the lack of sleep and the chaos of the previous night.

"They look amazing, Cill," you said, your voice sincere as you looked into his eyes. There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind of silence that held a promise of possibilities yet to be explored.

Cillian held your gaze for a beat longer before breaking it, clearing his throat and getting busy with the pancakes.

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur as you and Cillian sat down to enjoy the pancakes while Mara played quietly beside you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you as you watched Cillian interact with Mara, the way he looked at her with pure adoration and love.

"We should still take her to the doctors and get some meds for when it happens again. There is some stuff they can prescribe which clears it right up," Cillian told you  as you both munched on the pancakes, Mara's plate with a few bite-sized pieces of pancake on it untouched.

"Yeah, I will call the clinic in minute and I can take her, unless you want to?"  you asked, already assuming the latter.

"How about we both take her and then, if she feels up for it, we could go somewhere nice for the afternoon? Maybe the park to feed the ducks? Somewhere where she can't get others sick, I suppose," Cillian suggested and, after all that had occurred between you, you were surprised by his suggestion.

"I thought you didn't want us to do these things together anymore, with the new parenting plan and all? " you  said, dabbing your mouth with the napkin as you gazed at Cillian with raised eyebrows.

"I guess I changed my mind Y/N," he admitted, swallowing hard. "I was upset after what happened at my sister's wedding, but I realize that you were right and I was wrong. Mara needs the both of us and this, here, with all of us having breakfast together, is nice, you know?"  Cillian said, his voice soft and sincere.

You found yourself smiling at him, realizing that he was right. You had been so consumed with your anger and hurt over Cillian's sudden change in behavior and the way that everything had unfolded during the past few months, that you had not considered the fact that maybe he was hurting just as much as you were.

You reached out and placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Okay," you simply said.

"Let's take Mara to the clinic and then, if she's feeling up for it, we can head to the park."

The three of you finished your breakfast and proceeded to get ready for the day ahead. As you got dressed and brushed Mara's hair, you couldn't help but steal glances at Cillian, admiring his handsome features and the way he interacted with Mara. Despite the tension between you, it was clear that he loved Mara deeply and you couldn't help but feel grateful for that.

As you finished getting ready and made your way downstairs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the rest of the day. It had been a while since you had spent a proper day out with Cillian and Mara and, now that the opportunity had presented itself, you couldn't wait to enjoy it.

The clinic was only a short drive away. Mara slept peacefully in her car seat as you drove, with Cillian sitting silently beside you, lost in his thoughts. When you arrived, you parked the car and gently woke Mara up before making your way inside.

Cillian held gently Mara's hand as you waited in the lobby for the nurse to call Mara's name. Time seemed to drag on, but Mara was content playing with a toy car that Cillian had brought from home for her.

Finally, your name was called and you made your way to the examination room. The nurse took Mara's temperature, oxygen level and listened to her chest before confirming Cillian's earlier suspicion - Mara had croup. The nurse gave you a prescription for a medication that would help if Mara had another croup attack.

She explained how to administer it and what symptoms to look out for. You nodded along, taking it all in, and thanked her as she handed you the prescription.

After the clinic visit, the three of you picked up some more food and made your way to the park  , with Mara securely strapped into her stroller.

The park was bustling with families and children, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy as you watched the young children playing and enjoying themselves. You and Cillian fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything and nothing in particular, the tension between you dissolving with each passing moment.

You parked Mara's stroller near the pond and pulled out some food that you had brought to feed the ducks. It was the only place in Dublin where this was permitted and, unsurprisingly, the ducks here were massive and rather friendly.

Mara loved them. She clapped her hands as they waddled over to the food that you'd thrown out for them.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your daughter, so full of wonder and delight. And next to her, Cillian seemed just as captivated, his gaze following every movement of the ducks and his touch gentle as he moved a stray strand of hair away from Mara's face.

Cillian was unbelievably good with your daughter.

You watched as he carried on a comical conversation with an oblivious duck, making Mara giggle hysterically. His laughter blended with hers, and you found yourself smiling along with them. For a moment, the world faded away and it was just the three of you, enjoying each other's company.

When Mara became tired of feeding the ducks, you took her for a walk around the park while Cillian packed up the leftovers and disposed of the trash.

"I think she really needs a nap now," you  said, glancing down at Mara who was rubbing her eyes in her stroller. "I don't want to push her too much today, even though she seems to be enjoying herself."

Cillian nodded in agreement, "That's probably for the best. Let's get her home then and I will get out of your hair," he suggested, pushing the stroller alongside you as Mara's eyes started to droop.

"Do you want to stay for dinner maybe? I think Mara would really like that,"  you offered, turning to face Cillian who paused for a moment before responding.

"I mean, I guess that would be alright. If you want me to," he said with a small, awkward smile on his face and you nodded happily.

"Yeah, I do. It's just dinner, so why not?" you said, already mentally planning out a simple meal to cook.

Cillian nodded and the rest of the walk to the car was filled with a comfortable silence. You placed Mara in her car seat and clicked it into place. Cillian then climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.

As Cillian drove you home, you noticed that he was glancing at you every so often, a thoughtful expression on his face. You turned to him with a raised eyebrow, "What is it?" you asked, reaching out to adjust the volume of the radio.

Cillian hesitated before answering, "I was just thinking about how nice today has been, spending time with you and Mara. It's been a while since we've done that."

You nodded in agreement, "It has. I'm glad we could make today happen. Mara really needed it, and so did I."

Cillian smiled at you, a genuine and warm smile that reached his eyes. "Me too," he said, his voice soft and sincere.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[xjulixred45x]

If Child reader of Platonic Yandere Kenjaku meets Gojo...

Before anything, this is NOT a continuation of THIS one, that is more a scenerio of "What if", this is what i call the Route to the "True Ending" for Say something. NOW lest continue.

Also, this idea was kind of given by @kiracrzy-blog (thanks for that one Sweetie! Hope You enjoy!)

Satoru probably knew about (Child reader) even before the whole disaster, he would know that Geto had a child, but he didn't have much else, Suguru was very careful with them and their mother to prevent them from going after them (Even more if the child have inherited his cursed technique), but Satoru was definitely very curious about the child.

That's why he wouldn't know how he would interact with them if he ever met them, I mean, he LITERALLY killed their father and couldn't stop them from killing their mother, why would they want to see HIM of all people? He also had time to think about it in the containing prison.

A part of him wanted to meet them, see what they were like, were they more like Suguru or more like their mother? Were they extroverted or introverted? What was Suguru like as a father? And their mother? Did they suffer a lot when they died? Did they know that THAT THING was controlling their father's body?

Many of those answers were resolved as soon as he was released.

NOW, Gojo is much calmer and more mature than one would expect in the situation, he can see that (Child reader) has already been through a lot and he doesn't want them to be more afraid of him than they probably already are. He wants them to also get answers to their questions, so he sets up some small outings, nothing too complicated, just going to eat something somewhere safe and Satoru lets them ask them questions in exchange for the same.

Satoru was happy to hear that Suguru was a good father, that (child reader)'s mother was a good mother, that they lived a happy life...until Suguru died and Kenjaku arrived in his place.

Satoru is surprised that they (Child reader) don't resent him, but then he says something he wouldn't have expected at this point.

-"You may have killed my dad...but you were my father's only best friend...we can let things be...get over it...you mean a LOT to My father even...after all..."-

...that was so...wow, (Child reader) has power, they made the strongest sorcerer of today almost cry. He didn't think he needed to hear that SO MUCH...

although of course, not everything is so positive, Satoru has to retain all the anger he feels when hearing how Kenjaku came to treat (Child reader) using the body of their OWN FATHER and he may even have to console them, because well, it's HORRIBLE that distort the image of a person you love like this.

Satoru promises, SWEARS to (child reader) that after winning against Sukuna, he will go directly against Kenjaku and when he kills him, both will give him a dignified burial with the twins, and if the changes are in their favor, the WHOLE family of Geto. and (Child reader) feel light for the first time in God knows how long, they being with Gojo Kenjaku won't be after them. They are safe, they are not alone.

I think that in general, during the entire month of preparation that Gojo does before the battle against Sukuna, he takes advantage of every gap in his schedule to spend time with (child reader) and be a kind of "fun uncle" for them (he may even try to start a conversation with the twins, but it doesn't always work). He shares sweet things with them, tells them stories from when he and their father were young, he may even teach them a couple of useful techniques for hiding and so on.

Gojo carrying (child reader) on his shoulders while they go somewhere fun or while Gojo uses his infinity to float 🥺it would be so healthy..

Meanwhile Kenjaku is pulling his hair and biting his nails because GODDAMED! He can't get (child reader) back if they are not alone!if he get even a little close to Satoru he will kill him! And now (child reader) and Gojo are TOGHETER ALMOST EVERY DAY!! and at the same time he is soooo jealous that (child reader) is having such a good time with Gojo. He's their DAMN FATHER (in his crazy head at least)! And (child reader) acts more as if his enemy is more worthy of their affection than HIM):< (HE IS, but he will never admit it).

The good thing is that neither Sukuna nor Uraume are interested in helping Kenjaku in this, they already dislike him, but now that he spends his time complaining about a human child and since he wants them back, it is strangely tolerable, they are not going to ruin all returning them to Kenjaku. Part of them are just happy that Kenjaku is suffering for the first time in thousands of years.

Returning to the topic, I also imagine that (Child reader) shares everything that Satoru gives them with Choso and the twins, shows them their new clothes, saves candy for them, tells them excitedly about their day with Gojo, etc. .

Choso is so happy to see (Child reader) FINALLY be a child their age, get excited about these kinds of things and I think he would thank Satoru directly for everything he does for them even if he knows what happened in the past ( by not fully understanding humans and partly also because of all the positive feelings that have happened to Child reader)

Mimiko and Nanako are happy for (child reader), very happy, of course, they can't completely forgive Satoru, but damn, this could be the first step to HEALING (child reader), of returning to normal once everything is over , to be a family together again... who knows... maybe Gojo can be part of it... being so important to Geto...

Gojo is fine with just being a friend to (Child reader) in the future or being part of their family, as long as he is PART OF THAT FUTURE, and that future is HAPPY AND SAFE, he is fine with that, even if they don't want to see him more.

a better world is the least they owe to being Geto's child... a world where they should not have gone through all the pain and trauma they had, where he didn't have to kill their father... he wants that ( child reader) TO BE A CHILD.

So when he loses the battle against Sukuna and sees Geto on the other side, he doesn't know what to say, how to ask for forgiveness from him.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't beat him, he couldn't keep his oath, he couldn't bury Suguru with (Child reader), he couldn't see what will happen to them...HE FAILED THEM. NOT ONLY THEM, BUT ALSO SUGURU.

He left his child at the mercy of the world (with that PSYCHO still alive!!). hell, a child that Geto himself should have been able to raise if he had had different circumstances, if Geto had been there, supporting him, along with his child, both happy, safe, alive...

well, (child reader) is.

Suguru would try to console him, it's not his fault he died after all, he gave everything he had, Sukuna plays dirty......Suguru (and his wife) are grateful that at least Satoru spent the time he did with their child, trying to make a better world for them. They are grateful to him.

and (Child reader) will not be alone. Satoru KNOWS that, he can be at Peace, al least a little knowing that.

______

(Child reader) only sees on the screens (while Choso and Nanako try to cover their eyes) the result of the battle, Sukuna has won, Satoru lost.

Kenjaku is still alive.

but nothing stay still too long. then everyone is going to fight, those from Culling Game, the students, special grades, Yuji...

Choso puts a hand on (Child reader's) head, Mimiko and Nanako prepare to fight, they know what it means, they don't know how they feel about it(they already had a LOT of emotions to deal with), but they know what they have in mind.

Kenjaku is going to die. whether he like it or not.

[writersdelight]

Hiii! I hope you're having a good day. I absolutely adore Husk, I just wanna smother him with hugs 😆

Could you write one with him and reader that takes place the night before extermination day? They love each other but are scared to admit it. Ultimately Angel Dusk convinces him to confess since 'tomorrow is never guaranteed'.

Lots of fluff and love please! Thank you! ❤️

“ I don’t know what to say..”

Husk/Reader fluff before the Extermination. Not long.

Word count: 842

———————————————————————

-> Content: Fluff, I hope this is tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, mentions of dying, not-proof read (we die like Adam)

-> Author’s note: My first request! Ajdjdgj. I don’t think I’ve written fluff ever, but I swear I tried my best. Tysm, Anon! I’m having a great day.

———————————————————————

Husk hadn’t been interested in making his feelings known during his life and that was all the more prevalent in death. When living in a place like Hell, you gotta be safe, keep your card close to your chest or someone will take advantage of you. He knew that all too well.. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have certain soft spots..

He liked how you were so genuine, it’s part of what he loves about you. He knows he loves you- he’s good at understanding people and that includes himself. Even if it’s something.. that’s hard for him to admit. Something about the prospect of letting someone in like that is unnerving.

There was only a day left until the Extermination. The rest of the hotel residents were celebrating, trying to live it up before the battle tomorrow. There were some residents who were calmer.. one was Angeldust or well.. Anthony. He appreciated the change he saw in Angel.. Though in the moment with Angel at his bar, he knew the other could tell something was on his mind.

“ …you thinking about tomorrow, whiskers? It got you worried?”

“ ‘Course not. I’m just thinkin’ of how we might run out of booze at this rate.”

Husk laughed the question off, gesturing the empty bottles around the bar. Angel knew that he was lying. With the entire exorcist army about to be on their doorstep, there was practically no chance any of them would making it.. even you. He both loved and hated that you’d be fighting by his side. He loved your passion, the way you wanted to protect your loved ones, but that’s just it: he wants to protect you. You’re safest far away from there.

“ That’s bull and you know it. You’re worried.. but I don’t think you’re worried about you. I think it’s someone else. Someone special to ya~”

As he danced around outright saying the name, he gestured with all four of his hands over to you. You were wrapped up in a conversation with Cherri Bomb at the moment, talking about who knows what. Husk’s gaze followed Angel’s movements… he wasn’t wrong.

“ ……..………”

“ I knew it! You ain’t denying it.”

Angel had a grin on his face as if it was the most satisfying moment in his afterlife (though it certainly wasn’t).

“ You gonna make a move before it’s too late? Say something you need to?”

“….. I don’t think there’s anything I can to say. It’s.. complicated.”

Angel looked at him, taking the situation more seriously than he had before.

“ ….Husk, Buddy, tomorrow ain’t guaranteed. We both know it... so why not go tell your special little someone how you feel..? What’s there to lose?”

———————————————————————

The party had died down, most people were talking amongst themselves at this point… He had to gather himself to work up the nerve to go through with the confession. He knew that he loved you, he was almost positive you felt the same way, but that didn’t take the edge off of this type of deal. He took a breath before walking over to you..

“ Hey.. you mind joinin’ me upstairs?”

He wanted to be somewhere more private for this. Just the two of you.

“ I don’t mind at all.. something up?”

“ Nothin’ to worry about, doll.”

He guided you to the stairs. Once you two were at the top, he led you straight to his room.. you had never been in there. It was.. sort of nice. Certainly dingy. It’s exactly what you thought a man like him would have.

“ …what is this about?”

“ ……….”

He took a moment to figure out his words.. how can he say this? There are so many wrong ways to put it and the possibility of doing it right was slim to none.

“…..we might die tomorrow-”

“ I know that. There’s no where I would rather be than here. Someone needs to show these angels what happens when they pick a fight.”

You interrupted.

“ This isn’t about the damn fight- this is about you. Doll… I.. got feelings for you- I love you. I need you to know incase we’re both double dead tomorrow..”

He was almost surprised to hear the words leave his own mouth much less the surprise you felt.. your eyes met his in the moment after he confessed. There was a silence.

You had felt the same way, how couldn’t you? But putting it to words and saying what you both knew aloud..?

“ I-”

Husk couldn’t finish his sentence as you moved, tightly hugging him. You could feel him loosen up slightly, he had been so tense.. slowly he hugged back.

“…I feel the same, Husk.”

He smiled a bit.. his wings wrapped around you, pulling you closer. It was like you two were the only people in all of hell and that’s the way he likes it. You’re one of the best things that’s happened to him.

Tomorrow may not be guaranteed.. but you two will always have tonight.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

Hey I got a request for joey from friends

So basically you and joey are together and you just had your first child together and joey was  Comfort you while you in labour and helping you and when you baby girl came you was scared to hold her and do anything with her so joey help you and you was shocked to see joey like this hope that makes sense

The One With the Baby Girl || Joey Tribbiani x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where joey helps you through the birth of your daughter

word count: 1k

warnings: childbirth (also quick disclaimer! i have never experienced/been present during a birth so please forgive me if this isn’t accurate)

a/n: ok i actually love this idea sm so thank you for requesting it! i hope you enjoy this

quick edit!! i was going back looking through my older work (1/10 do not recommend btw 🤭 the cringe is real) and i am so sorry i didn’t explain (v/o/y/n) = variation of your name. and y’all are smart so im sure you figured it out but still just thought I’d clarify because im dumb. have a great day loves xx💋💌🍒

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     This. Was. Hell. 

     None of the childbirth classes you had taken could have prepared you for this. You had known labor was not going to be a piece of cake, that much you could have expected. 

     But you hadn’t expected it to be this…well, laboring. You gripped the sides of the hospital bed as you desperately tried to push harder than you already were. 

     “Hey, you’re ok, just breathe,” you heard Joey’s voice from the side of your bed and you felt him as he moved behind you and began massaging your shoulders.

     “I can’t do this,” you said between breaths, feeling a wave of panic. What if you couldn’t do this?

     “Yes you can (Y/n), I know you can. Can you breathe for me? In, out. There you go. Now again. In, out. You’re doing great.”

      And it worked. You felt significant calmer as you reached up a hand to squeeze Joey’s and he squeezed back. 

     Joey had been a huge help to you throughout the whole process. While you had been in the early stages of labor, he had kept you company and helped to pass the time by talking about how you were going to decorate your baby’s room and if he thought the baby was going to be a boy or a girl and even by attempting to play a very dull game of ‘I spy’ which ultimately ended when everything was either white or gray.

     Now he fluffed the pillow behind you and brushed the hair from your face as you continued to push. You hoped it wouldn’t be long now, but you just had to get through this.

     “Can I get you any water?” Joey asked you and when you nodded he brought over the glass from the bedside table and brought it gently to your lips, allowing you to take a sip. 

     You were surprised at how attentive and helpful Joey was being. You hadn’t known he would be so good in these kind of situations. 

     Suddenly you cried out in pain as you were brought out of your thoughts by a particularly painful contraction. Joey rushed over to stand next to you and you grabbed his hand tightly. 

     “Sorry,” you gasped, letting go of his hand. 

     “It’s ok sweetie,” he said, waving it off, “I didn’t need those bones anyways.”

     You breathed out a laugh and Joey smiled at you, taking your hand again. 

     You let out another cry of pain.

     “Just let me know what I can do, ok?” Joey said, rubbing your back.

     “Be here,” you managed.

     “I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he said, “I’m going to be right here by your side the whole time.”

     With Joey’s help and a lot of painful hours on your part, eventually you gave a final push and the next thing you knew the doctor was holding your baby—your daughter (Joey owed you 5 bucks)—in his hands.

     You laid back against the bed and Joey knelt beside you.

     “You did it (Y/n), I’m so proud of you,” he said. 

     You watched as the doctor came over to you and reached out his arms with the baby—your baby—and all of a sudden you weren’t sure you were ready. You had just been through all this and now you weren’t sure you were ready to take this next step. What if you dropped her or she cried more than she already was or—

     You didn’t know why you were so scared. You’d taken all of the classes and read all of the books and you were ready for this. Ready to be a mother. But you couldn’t make your arms reach out to grab your child. It was like you were petrified.

     “Joey I can’t—”

     Joey jumped up from beside your bed knowingly and gently took the baby from the doctor’s arms, expertly placing one hand behind her head and neck and the other under her bottom. 

     “Shh, you’re gonna be fine,” Joey soothed the baby as her cries began to cease. 

     He walked over towards you and knelt down beside your bed again. 

     “Are you ready?” He whispered. “Because you don’t have to do this before you’re ready?”

     You closed your eyes and nodded, “I’m ready.”

     Joey placed the baby in your arms, guiding your hands and arms to the right positions. 

     “There you go,” he said, “See, you’re alright.” 

     You began to relax as you held your daughter for the first time with Joey right beside you, and you took a moment to appreciate how amazing this all was. You had done this—you and Joey had done this. 

     You looked down at the baby in your arms. Your hands had begun to stop shaking and you shifted to more comfortably hold her.

     “She’s beautiful,” Joey said, his voice cracking just a little, “Just like her mother.”

     “I’ll give you two a moment,” the doctor said, exiting the room. The door shut and then it was just you and Joey and your new baby girl. 

     Joey sat on the edge of the bed next to you and you scooted over to make room for him. He gently kissed your damp forehead and brushed the hair away from your face.

     “Sorry Joe, I’m probably sweaty and disgusting,” you said.

     He looked you in the eyes and grew serious, “I have never seen you look more perfect.”

     He looked down at his daughter in your arms. “And you, you are the most perfect baby girl in the world.”

     “What are we going to name her?” You asked him, overcome with emotion. You couldn’t believe how perfect he was. How perfect all of this was, you thought as you looked down at the baby now falling asleep in your arms.

     “(V/o/y/n). I think we should name her (V/o/y/n),” Joey said, taking his eyes from his daughter to your face.

     “I love it,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. You paused a minute taking everything in. “We’re parents, Joey. It still doesn’t seem real.”

     “I can’t wait,” he said, smiling as he putting his arm around your shoulder, rubbing it gently, “We’re going to be awesome parents.”

     You couldn’t help but giggle at Joey’s enthusiasm, even as you felt your eyes begin to get heavy with tiredness.

     “And whatever comes, we’ll get through it,” Joey said. “You and me. Together.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted love have a great day!!

[die-die-mydarling-xx]

Hewo! Saw y’all are taking requests :3

What would the Sinclair Brothers, Brahms, and Billy Lenz do if they see their s/o being made fun of by someone? How would they react?

Thank you and have a good one!

Hi there! Sorry it took me a little while to get around to this

How They Would React to Seeing Their S/O Being Made Fun Of

SFW, GN!Reader (sort of implied to be female in Billy Lenz)

Vincent Sinclair

They're dead the minute they decided to make fun of you

He wouldn't be too aggressive in the moment, probably just glaring at them from across the room

Or he'd move to your side, the silent anger in his face enough to shut them up

Later on they will die slowly and painfully <3

Once he's done with them he would come to comfort you, holding you in his arms and making sure you know how perfect you are and that you're the best thing that ever happened to him

Bo Sinclair

Again, they're dead. Duh

He'd come over to give whoever was making fun of you a piece of his mind, you could see him getting quite worked up

These people were just passing through, and you could tell they wanted to leave after that altercation, but their car had broken down just outside of Ambrose and Bo was their only hope of fixing it

He'd tell them he had to order the part and let them know where to stay nearby

So he could catch them off guard later. He wouldn't prolong their suffering that much, his anger overriding that urge

He'd come find you once they're dead as well, holding you a little closer to him that night. He doesn't strike me as someone who would give a lot of verbal reassurance, but you still can tell he cares

Lester Sinclair

He's the only one of the three who wouldn't outright kill them. Maybe directs them to his brothers though

He'd definitely step in in the moment as well, but he's a little calmer than Bo: he would defend you and try to make the people making fun of you ashamed of their behaviour

Would be sooo comforting afterwards, giving you lots of physical affection and telling you everything he loves about you

Brahms Heelshire

I don't imagine there'd be a lot of times where he'd see this happening, so I think he'd be a lot more volatile in this situation

You're perfect in his eyes, he's literally obsessed with you, so seeing you being made fun of would make him very angry

Honestly I think he'd just kill them right then and there. 😶

Unless you told him not to but he'll still leave them injured

After they were gone he'd be holding you, stroking your hair, and giving you all kinds of compliments

Billy Lenz

If you were being made fun of by specific sorority sisters, they would immediately become his next targets

I don't think he'd want to really step in; he doesn't like leaving the attic, especially when there are people up and about

He would call the house phone to try and interrupt their taunting

When they pick up, he'd immediately go into a tirade of profanities and threatening them

The sisters would hang up, shaking their heads in disgust, and you just smiled to yourself, knowing that this was his way of defending you

Later, after everyone's asleep, you go into the attic to see him. Like Lester, he's going to be very physically affectionate, stroking your face, your hair, your body and telling you how pretty you are and how important you are to him

I hope this is okay! I definitely struggled with the characterization of some of them, especially Billy 😭

[camilaxmartin]

Hi, could you write some x reader stuff for Vanessa/Vanny with a fem!i.t worker! Reader? Fellow x reader blog, like your acc

dating vanessa as an i.t. worker

i literally have no idea what i.t workers do as a job (i’m so sorry😭) so it’s straight up my imagination about that job, hope it’s alright!

navigation // information // masterlist

summary: just a bunch of headcanons about getting into a relationship and then dating vanessa

warnings: none i think

notes: i’m so sorry it’s so short, my brain is kinda in a rot but i wanted to post this😭

requests: closed!!

first of all i think you two would meet when one of the animatronics had some problems so she called for an i.t. worker and well there you were (let’s just pretend that animatronics don’t have children’s bodies inside of them for the sake of this fanfic)

when she opened the door for you she was literally speechless

you looked at her with a smile and she knew it was the end for her

after a moment of her collecting herself she finally let you in trying to hide how flustered she got

you decided not to say anything about her state and just walk by her with a small smirk forming on your face

when you got to the stage room and started repairing the animatronic that broke she stood right before you watching you all. the. time. and i mean like all the time

finally when you’re done, she gave a small smile and a lot of thank yous, which you just gave her a big smile in return

after that, she decided to call you more often, just about stupid incidents, like when a camera didn’t connect with the computer or when something was wrong with cables from animatronics

every time she’d greet you with a smile from ear to ear and something along the lines of “i didn’t know how to repair it so i decided to call you” or “i didn’t want to make the situation worse so i just called you” you loved every one of the excuses she made

every time you were at the pizzeria, she was casually walking beside you or standing there, and just casually and of course accidentally touching your back or your shoulder

there was one time when she actually accidentally touched your hand and she freaked out about it, and you couldn’t hold your laugh at her response

she apologised immediately and you couldn’t imagine a cuter sight right in front of your eyes

you grabbed her hand with yours and told her that it’s okay and you wouldn’t even mind holding her hand

to say her smile widened would be an understatement, her smile almost exploded

she squeezed your hand with hers and gave you a calmer smile while looking into your eyes and saying something like “i’ll keep that in mind” giving your hand another squeeze

next time after that, when you showed up at the restaurant, she was waiting on you being noticeably nervous but you decided to ignore that

when you got to the camera room cause supposedly the problem was there you noticed a single rose laying on cameras with a note saying ‘there isn’t any problem today, just wanted to spend my time with you, while your office thinks you’re working’

you smiled at the note and immediately went out of the cameras room to find her, she was standing in the stage room definitely waiting for you to come to her

when she noticed you, she turned around to face you and let’s just say she was a bit more than surprised when you walked over and hugged her, holding the rose she’d leave you

that night, you two spend mostly on talking about everything and nothing, while laying on some tables in the stage room, pretending to be looking at the stars while in reality you were just straight up starring at the ceiling

when it was your time to go back to your office, she had the biggest pout on her face that you’ve ever seen in your life

you chuckled and while standing at the door you quickly walked up to her and gave her cheek a kiss, whispering about waiting for another thing to broke down

she was speechless at first, but when she finally came back to earth she smiled dumbly at you and promised to call whenever anything happens

as if you didn’t already know that she would

finally, when you’ve been there for about a thousand time, she finally got the courage to ask you out on a date

you obviously said yes, with a huge smile

let’s just say the date went incredibly well and it was followed by many more dates

her favourite must have been the oceanarium one, on which you both seen so many animals you haven’t heard before and then got matching shark plushies

before you stared dating she started showing up at your work, just casually brining you lunch and sometimes wearing a very different outfit to her working one

all of your coworkers were jealous of your “soon to be” girlfriend

before you guys talked about the big question of being in a relationship, she had to tell you about something important

she invited you to her apartment and told you about the whole vanny thing with her personality

of course you were supportive and assured her it didn’t change anything in the way you viewed her

she looked at you with tears in her eyes cause, let’s be honest, a conversation like that wouldn’t be an easy one for our girl and smiled at you with the most sincere smile you’ve ever seen

before you could’ve say anything else she grabbed the collar of your shirt and brought you in for a kiss

you happily kissed her back and even turned it into a more heated one

let’s just say after that, it was very, painfully obvious you two were a lot into each other

soo, after the kiss you two decided to officially be together

vanessa planned a picnic date to ask you to date her once again, more officially

you just laughed at it all and agreed to, once again, be her girlfriend

much didn’t change after that, she was still calling you to the pizzeria for stupid stuff but decided to only call when something was really wrong, not to bother you at work when she could’ve have you all to herself after work

you didn’t mind her calls but the thought that she stopped calling you for silly stuff and going all lovely on you after work was somehow melting your heart

[multifandomworldsposts]

Finally Meeting pt. 2

pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

warning: anxiety mentions, fluff

A/N: since everyone is asking for a second part so here it is and i hope everyone likes it!!

Y/N’s POV

the next day

Colby posted on his social medias about me and how the death threats are getting out of hand and how they affected me in a week.

twitter

colbybrock: you know I’m all about positivity, but this has gone too far. please stop giving my girlfriend these threats that are making her upset and she doesn’t deserve this, she told you guys to treat people with kindness and she’s not seeing that, she’s seeing the opposite. everyone in the trap house loves her and she loves them. once again, like she said, treat people with kindness ❤️

The death threats died down after that post and anytime I would post something like me ghost hunting with Colby or Corey and Elton the comments would be so positive it’ll make me feel better and happy. But eventually I took a break from social media so I can be with Colby, his friends, and my family if they want anything from me.

Sam, Colby, Kat, and I went to Disneyland and there were a lot of fans of Sam and Colby coming up to us and some of them would give me dirty looks, I would get some anxiety attacks but I would try to hide my feelings in front of the fans.

After the fans we went on rides but Colby noticed my anxiousness.

“Are you okay?” He whispers in my ear.

“A little.” I whisper.

“Don’t worry about them, we’re here for you Y/N, if something happens we’ll be there for you and we’ll leave if you want.” Colby says to me.

I nod, “Okay.”

Eventually I calmed down during the day and we had such a great time at Disneyland and when we were going back home I fell asleep in the car. When I woke up for the next morning, I was in Colby’s bed. I felt calmer than ever.

Colby and I stayed at the trap house while everyone else went out to do videos for a while. I get a phone call from my mom.

OUR PHONE CALL

“Hi sweetie!”

“Hi mom.” I said kinda upset.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um, I think people hate me.” I confess.

“Why would you think that Y/N/N?”

“Anytime I go out with Colby, his fans give me dirty looks and I get uncomfortable and I want to leave immediately.”

“Don’t let them get to you, you’re with your boyfriend and you should be happy and feel safe with him. I’ve never seen you this happy in a long time and I want you to be happy with yourself Y/N/N.”

I tear up, I know I should be happy about Colby but I just want to stay at the house all daylong because of his fans being rude to me.

I eventually hang up from the phone call and I walk around to find Colby editing a video so I came from behind and hug him, he grabs my arm softly.

“Who was on the phone with you?” He says looking up at me.

“My mom, she just wanted to know how I was doing here.” I look down at him.

“I overheard that you think people hate you.” He says still looking at me.

“Colb, anytime we go out together, I feel like everyone is judging me, I know that I should ignore them but they just get to me.” I confess.

“Y/N, you know that if you feel uncomfortable, you can tell me and we can leave the situation.” He says.

“I know.” I sniffle.

“Don’t cry Y/N/N, everyone that we know knows that we’re happy and no one will stop us from what we’re doing, I love you so much, don’t let anyone get to you.” Colby whispers into my ear.

I look at him in happiness, he makes me smile and he knows that I shouldn’t get that shit into my mind.

“You’re right about that, I just get scared and not think about people get to me.” I say still hugging him.

He kisses my cheek. I feel a little better, I love him so much.

2 WEEKS LATER

Colby films are video about our situation and he got me to be in the video. A lot of people noticed that my facial expressions were happy, anxious, and relaxed while I was sitting next to him.

I read some comments and they were pretty sweet to be honest.

solbyschild: let’s accept that colby is happy and accept that Y/N is happy :) 🥰

taylorswiftfannn13: i think that Y/N seems super sweet! i don’t know why people are hating her???

colbybfan: people are insane, just accept that colby is dating someone and move on!!

inlovewithcolby: i’ve seen her instagram and it’s really cool and she seems like a nice person, and people hate her???? WHY!!!

All I can do is smile and because there’s people out there that’ll support you no matter what you do depends on who it is.

A/N: part 3???