#But he made a promise to protect this kid and by god he's gonna do it

[somegrumpynerd]

He would make a good big brother? uncle? dad? found family member

Unfortunately, they found out about the cookies

[trust-over-love]

The conversation sucked but was so what I needed. I was asked to respect his decision to move on. & I asked for the respect to not have sex anymore. Because I love my husband & it makes it harder for me to move on. I was being cordial, not trying to fight. But instead of saying okay & ending the conversation I get shit talked about me. Like what?

I want to move on peacefully as well, just as he requested & not having sex with someone I love who no longer loves me back makes me wrong? So much negative things being said to me. When the convo could’ve been so short. Just crazy. Proves me how toxic he truly is.

But the conversation was needed for me to understand that I am not the only one who messed up. I was lied to & made to believe we’d always work through it & always get stronger through our downfalls. I mean I literally got all the proof of his betrayal, but to him it was nothing & I’m the bad guy. He told me to stay when I should’ve left & now he denies it lmao Okay. We both messed up. Take accountability as I have. I was willing to always try & you lied about never giving up & always trying & that divorce was never an option. Thanks for showing me your true colors. Even showing me how much of a snitch he is by threatening me with law enforcement like really. Thank you for the push. I’m with our kids 85% of the time cause you work a lot & that’s okay I understand that but you threaten to try to get me in trouble with the law. Fake AF. So unbelievable but it’s okay. Thank god I didn’t decide to go back to that place when you asked me to for our kids. I knew it wasn’t gonna be a good idea & I’m so thankful I stuck to my gut feeling.

& he’s mad I use this app to vent instead of talking to people & posting on apps where people know us. Don’t nobody know me here. Don’t nobody even care. You left me, you can’t dictate how I heal myself from being fooled. Crazy how the truth unfolds when things get rough.

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, use of toys, oral (f!receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, sneaking around, getting caught, forbidden, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!matt, brotherbsf!matt, innocent!reader

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your older brother is back in town for summer vacation, and he brings home his childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, who can't seem to keep his eyes off how much your body has changed since he's last seen you.

જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 this fic was requested/inspired by this ask! enjoy. (p.s. sorry i made matt so pervy in this. honestly idk what got into me. 🙈)

young god

You were in your room, listening to music, headphones in and volume on full blast while you sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through your playlist when some movement out of the corner of your left eye broke you out of your focus. You glanced up at your partially open door to see your older brother peeking through and tapping on the barrier to try to get your attention.

He was finally home for summer vacation from his second year of college. "Hey!" You jumped up, taking out your earbuds and throwing your arms around him in a big hug. "Hey, little sis. It's been a while," He greeted you, not having seen you since winter vacation earlier that year. Behind him was Matt Sturniolo, his childhood best friend who you hadn't seen in even longer.

"Hey, Matt," you said, your gaze traveling over towards your brother's best friend, who looked as attractive as ever. You'd always had an insatiable crush on him, and it didn't help that he had more facial hair, more tattoos, and a more chiseled jawline since the last time you'd seen each other.

He always hit like a drug, like a habit you couldn't kick, like a long-term addiction you couldn't shake. He flooded your system with cascading waves of dopamine whenever you looked at him and interacted with him. You craved him. However, you knew you couldn't ever pursue him.

Your brother had always warned you about him. "I know as you get older and start developing feelings for boys, you're gonna wanna start dating. But whoever you date, please don't date my friends, especially not Matt Sturniolo. I know he's my best friend, but the kid's bad news. He's only after one thing when it comes to girls, and he's off-limits to you," you recalled your brother saying to you.

After you'd started going through puberty, your brother had been hyperaware of the way your behavior suddenly changed towards his best friend. He'd started picking up on the way you'd been interacting differently with Matt, trying to get his attention more often and trying to find excuses to be in the same room as him, which terrified him.

You didn't know what he meant by that, only after one thing? You didn't know what that one thing was, but you secretly found yourself curious about it, and you wondered if it was something you could give to Matt. But you nodded at your brother, promising to stay away from Matt despite the way your stomach dropped when you looked at his friend.

"Hey, you're all grown up," Matt replied, bringing you back to the present. He subtly checked you out before pulling you into a hug, leaning down, hooking his arms around your waist, and picking you up. He let out a soft grunt as he lifted you into the air. He loved the way your body felt writhing against him as you giggled. "Put me down," you half-heartedly said, secretly loving the you felt in his arms.

Your brother shot him a look as he placed your feet back down on the hardwood floor beneath you. "I'm going off to college after the summer ends. Can you believe it?" You asked, swaying back and forth. "No, I can't. The boys at school are going to adore you," Matt said, nibbling on his lip and doing nothing to conceal the hungry look in his eye.

You didn't notice, but your protective older brother did.

"Hey, Matt and I are gonna go grab some dessert. He's gonna stay the night here. We'll be back," your brother said, wrapping up the conversation so he could go scold Matt in the car and remind him of the rules about hitting on his little sister. "Can I come?" You wondered, your eyes lighting up at a chance to be in Matt's presence once again. "I don't think that's a good idea," your brother started to say.

"Come on. Let her tag along so we can all catch up. I'll buy," Matt offered, looking back over at you with a smug smile. "Fine," your brother hesitantly said, leading the three of you out to the garage. You sat in the backseat in the middle and clicked your seltbelt closed.

On the way to get a sweet treat, Matt sat in the passenger seat with his head craned all the way around, his eyes lingering on your sweet treat between your thighs. You'd forgotten you were in a skirt and were innocently sitting with your legs splayed out while your pink panties peeked out from underneath the short fabric.

Your brother, who was focused on the road, was completely unaware of the show you were unknowingly putting on for Matt.

"So, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you? You got a boyfriend now?" Matt lustfully cooed, not that he cared if you did, while studying the outline of your puffy lips through your underwear. He bit down on his lip while his cock jumped in his jeans at the sight.

Your brother glared over at him, recognizing the tone of voice he was using on you. The same he'd use when trying to take girls to bed. "No. All the boys my age are so immature. I don't want to be with any of them," you said, making a face. "Oh really?" Matt replied in a smug voice.

You guys had arrived at your destination, and after you guys had all ordered your desserts to go, Matt was handing his card over to the employee and giving you sly looks while he undressed you in his mind.

The three of you piled back into the car to head home. Matt watched intently as you swirled your tongue around on your strawberry ice cream, imagining you were lapping up something else. "Thank you for the dessert, Matt. It's so good," you said, letting out a soft moan while you savored the taste. You weren't trying to tease him, but you were driving him wild.

"Oh, a little is dripping onto the sides there," Matt pointed at the melted, pink liquid leaking down the waffle cone, and you licked a long stripe up the dessert, cleaning it off with your tongue. "Almost got it. Give it one more good lick," he urged you.

"That's it. Good girl. You got it," Matt purred, licking hot fudge off his spoon as you dragged your tongue up the length of your cone once more. His eyes flashed back to your panties, and he noted a small damp spot on the front of the pink cotton. Blood rushed to your cheeks as Matt watched you.

Your brother reached over and slugged Matt in the arm, almost making him drop his hot fudge sundae. "Hey!" Matt exclaimed. "Hey, why'd you do that?" You innocently asked, secretly enjoying the way Matt was watching you and talking to you. "Don't worry about it. Matt's just being a perv," your brother scoffed.

You realized where Matt's eyes kept traveling back to when he wasn't watching you clean off your cone. Suddenly, you became self-conscious, slamming your legs shut and going back to eating your ice cream in silence while you looked out the window.

It's not so much that you minded Matt viewing you that way. It's that your brother was picking up on it. You avoided eye contact with both of them, worried that they had noticed how much you liked when Matt had called you good girl.

No one said a word the rest of the awkward car ride home. Later that night, the boys went into your brother's room, which was only ever occupied when he was home from school, to play video games.

You desperately needed to take care of the aching feeling between your legs you'd been wrestling with since Matt had picked you up earlier when you'd hugged him. You reached into your pink panties and started slowly rubbing yourself while you pictured Matt.

On the other side of the wall, Matt and your brother were tapping away on their controllers in front of their game. Your brother was quietly berating Matt for the way he was looking at you and talking to you earlier while they waited for the next round to render.

"Dude, that's my sister. Please don't try anything."

"Relax. I'm just having a little fun making her blush. She's really cute when she gets all worked up," Matt smugly responded. "Gross. Don't talk about her like that. If you lay a finger on her, our friendship is over. I'm serious," your brother said in a somber tone. How about in her? Matt silently wondered, smirking to himself.

"Seriously, I'll kill you if she loses it to you," he told Matt sternly, insinuating you were a virgin. "She hasn't lost it yet?" Matt's gazed off into the distance as a perverted scene unfurled in his mind. "Gross. Forget I told you that. Just stay away from her," your brother said, eating his words after he remembered Matt had a thing for innocence corruption.

"Don't worry," he smirked, holding up both hands up in a defensive position, despite the thoughts going on behind his eyes about stuffing you for the first time. "I'm going to bed after this game. I feel sick after watching you with her today," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Matt brushed off his friend's comments. It's not that Matt didn't value his friendship with your brother and love him dearly. It's just that he was weak to his carnal desires, unable to say no to them and unable to turn down temptation when it was taunting him. Especially when it was forbidden fruit.

After they finished their final round, they shut off the light and Matt laid down on the floor next to your brother's bed with a blanket and a pillow. Your brother had fallen asleep and started softly snoring, and right as Matt began to drift off, a low hum woke him up.

At first he thought he was getting a call, but when he peered down at a black screen after picking up his phone, he realized the vibrating was coming from somewhere else entirely. It was low, unwavering, and seemed to be coming from the other side of the wall, in the direction of your bedroom.

Matt stealthily got up and slipped out the room. When he stepped into the hallway, he realized a dim light was pouring out of your room and into the hallway through a crack in your door you'd left open a bit on accident. Matt approached your room and peered in through the sliver of space between the door and the frame.

There you were, bathed in warm candlelight, laying on top of your blanket naked, legs spread, and steadying a vibrator on your clit. Matt smirked to himself as he studied the way your thighs quivered while you used your toy.

Your lips were fixed in an o shape, your cheeks were pink, and your brows were pinched together. You shut your eyes and threw your head back as Matt's name slipped through your slew of whimpers.

He poked his head into your room, pushing the door open, and he slowly invited himself inside, approaching you to get a better look at you. He loved the way your slick folds glistened in the soft lighting, and the way your breasts started to subtly bounce as you started to violently shake.

You were right on the verge of greatness, slowly nearing a climactic ending, when your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Matt standing at the foot of your bed, staring down hungrily at your pussy. Immediately, you grew insecure about being watched, chasing away your orgasm.

"Matt!?" You said his name again, but this time in an aggravated whisper. "Poor thing. All alone in here. Why play with those toys when you could have the real thing?" Matt cooed, reaching for your pink vibrator. You handed it to him while it was still buzzing, and when he rested it back onto your clit, you let out a relieved sigh in response.

"Good girl. Just lay back and relax. Just here to help," he softly directed you. "Oh, Matt," you breathed out softly, lifting your hips up and grinding up against the vibrator in his grip. You glanced down at his smirk and how his eyes were fixed on the way you were clenching around nothing.

With his free hand, he took his middle finger and started teasing your folds with it. Your eyes widened as he sunk his finger into your drooling cunt. For a moment, you thought you must be dreaming. You let out a loud, satisfied sigh as he pushed it all the way in.

"You gotta be quiet, sweet thing. If your brother had any idea what I'm doing to you right now, he'd kill me."

You nodded at him and placed your palm over your mouth to muffle all the noise you couldn't keep yourself from making. "It's gotta be our little secret," he grinned at you as he added another finger, and you could feel the cold metal of his rings on the warm flesh of your thighs as he pumped them back and forth into your heat.

"You're so tight," he whispered, relishing in the way you clenched around his digits while they started to stretch you out. He shut off your toy for a moment, setting it off to the side, and repositioning himself.

He lowered his head between your legs while he fingered you, and he started to work his mouth on your special place, rolling his soft tongue over your clit and manipulating your folds with it. He closed his lips down around your bundle of nerves and gently hummed against it, recreating the feeling of the vibrator, only much better.

You arched your back up off the bed and rolled your hips forward, chasing the sensation of his tongue exploring places no one ever had before. "Like that, princess?" He asked you in between licks. "I love it," you whispered back.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, and your legs started to tremble as he continued stimulating you with his mouth and his fingers. "Good girl. You got this," he cooed while you got close. His fingers curled so perfectly, hitting all the right spots while you kept your hand held tightly over your mouth, desperately trying to avoid waking anyone up.

"That's it, pretty thing. Cum all over my fingers," Matt purred sweet nothings from between your legs while he felt you starting to tighten around his fingers. "Relax. Let it happen. Give in to how good it feels," he talked you through it while you shook beneath him, experiencing your very first orgasm given to you by another person.

You let out a few soft whimpers that you couldn't keep to yourself while you steadily throbbed around Matt's fingers that had slowed to a stop once you'd finished. He licked them clean, and he complimented your flavor as he started pulling his cock out of his sweatpants.

You couldn't see much in the low candlelight, but it was intimidating-looking. You could see the veins that texturized his thick shaft, and you could make out how swollen the mushroom-shaped head was.

"You ever had one of these in here, sweetheart?" Matt cooed, giving you a devilish smile, and introducing his bulbous tip to your slick hole. You bit your lip and shook your head from side to side, confirming your innocence to him.

"Oh, poor thing. Let's fix that. You're way too cute to not be getting fucked," Matt groaned as he pushed it in. You squelched around his thick rod, and he shoved it all the way in until it filled you entirely, the base of his dick resting against your entrance.

You felt your pussy expanding around him as he started rocking his hips back and forth, hitting a pleasant spot deep inside of you. You held your breath for a moment, still adjusting to the size difference between his fingers and his cock, and when you exhaled, a few stifled sounds came through. It hurt so good.

"Good girl. You're taking me so well. Can't believe this is your first dick," he praised you softly while he delivered a few harder thrusts. Soon, there was no pain at all, only pleasure.

He grabbed you by your waist, steadying himself while he started to speed up, getting caught up in how good your virgin hole felt wrapped around him. He watched as he pumped back and forth, fixating on the way you coated his length in your arousal.

"That's it. Take it like the good girl you are. I know you've been dreaming about this for years," he smirked at you, and you eagerly nodded in response. It was like a fantasy come true, losing your virginity to a forbidden man, your brother's best friend, while your brother slept soundly one room over.

The bed started gently rocking and making a soft rhythmic thump thump thump as the headboard made contact with the wall. But each of you were too caught up in how incredible the other person's body parts felt to care about the noises you were making.

Matt picked up your toy again, and after propping your right leg up onto his shoulder to get a deeper stroke, he turned on your vibrator once more and held it on your clit again, sending your eyes rolling back in your head and causing your jaw to fall open in sheer desire. You'd never experienced stimulation quite like this, and you didn't know how badly you craved it until now.

When your gaze shifted back to Matt, he was peering down at you with glossed over eyes and a pleasure-filled expression. You were both at the gates of heaven, about to immerse yourselves into a shared orgasm that neither one of you could fend off any longer.

"That's it. Be a good girl. Finish all over my forbidden cock," Matt whispered, all too aware of the dynamic that existed between you, mocking your brother's attempt to keep you two apart, that instead drove the two of you into each other's arms in a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

You both tensed up, Matt injecting you with his seed and filling you to the brim while you throbbed around him, milking him dry. You guys softly moaned in harmony, your bodies moving in unison. The sound of the bed thudding against the wall came to a stop, and the buzzing of your toy dropped off when Matt killed the power on it.

"Wow. Your pussy is so pretty pumped full of my cum," Matt whispered with an edge of thrill in his voice as he pulled his meat out of you and watched the way it leaked out of you while you continued clenching around negative space, recovering from the orgasm Matt had just given you.

He was still admiring the mess he made inside you that started to leak onto your sheets when a stern and infuriated voice boomed from behind him, sending chills down his spine and sending a sobering wave of fear through his system when he realized the two of you had been caught. It was your brother, watching from the door way.

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

"I thought I fucking told you to stay away from her, Sturniolo."

part two here ���

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. soft smut. breeding kink.

On the continuation of my “Soft!Ghost” ideas: 

Imagine lovemaking with Simon. 

Simon has you—his pretty girl—tucked inside his bedroom, sandwiched between him and the mattress. Right in his arms, where you rightfully belong. 

(In his arms, you’re protected. Safe. Nothing could possibly ever harm you.)

Of course, the intensity of sex differs with his moods. On some days, he is a delicious mix of dominant and aggressive, claiming your body with a certain roughness that reflects how possessive he is over you. But, on other days, all Simon wants is to possess your heart and soul, in some desperate frenzy to stake his claim over them. 

You were made for Simon. In his eyes, that is the truth. How could it not be? Every inch of you—from the curve of your hipbones and the tanalizing way your bottom lip shines with a fresh layer of gloss to how your beautiful, doe eyes twinkle anytime he is near—is all his. You’re irresistible.

And when you lay beneath him, completely bare, ripe for the taking, whining out for his touch, what else could he possibly do than worship you? 

One arm keeps him steadily up, towering over you; the other cradles your soft cheek against his palm. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone. He’s gentle, smiling, even chuckling. “I’ve got you, baby,” he purrs in that deep, hoarse accent. “Shhh, darlin’. C’mon, lemme take care of ya.” 

“ Si…”

Your body stiffens as Simon gently slides himself into your pussy, until he’s buried balls deep; he lets out a breathless “fuck” as you tighten around his cock, followed by a low groan. “Perfect for me, aren’t ya?” He pauses, leaning to kiss you for a moment.

“That’s my good girl,” he mumbles against your lips, letting his tongue entangle with yours. “So fucking good for me.” 

His hips slap against yours at a slow, gentle pace—matching his thrusts. “C’mon, baby, fuck.” You whine in response, arching your back, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders while your pretty, teary eyes hold his gaze. 

“ Simon…! ” 

Simon chuckles, takes one of your hands in his, and flattens it against your lower stomach. “Feel that, love?” You gasp, nodding. There is an unmistakable bulge in your belly; you can feel it. “Aye, that’s me.” Your cunt takes him so unbelievably well; he cannot stop pistoning his cock in and out of you. 

God, he thinks, you were made for him.

You were fucking made for me. 

The only thing that could possibly be better than this is—

“Lemme make you a mum,” Simon suddenly says, groaning. “God, baby, need to make you one.” His fingers find your nipple, pinching it before rubbing it back and forth, causing you to squeal. “—make these pretty tits all swollen. You’d be so bloody gorgeous, love.” 

Simon wants a family, so fucking badly. He is beyond desperate for one  — ever since he looked into your eyes for the first time, and saw his future staring back. At the time, the feeling was confusing and disorienting….

…now, it all made sense.

“Yeah?” Mid-thrust, he kisses you again, swallowing your gasps and tiny whimpers as he splits you open on his cock. “You gonna let me make you a mum?” Another thrust. “C’mon, baby, use your words, my girl.” 

You nod, unable to muster up a response to your husband; instead, your mouth falls open—pretty, pink lips dropping into a perfect “o." “P-Please, Si…” your soft, little voice whines out, stirring up more heat in Simon. 

(He loves your voice. So bloody fucking much. You could ask him to raze the Earth to a burnt crisp, and he’d do it for you.) 

“Please what, baby?” 

The sensation of his massive cock overwhelms you. You fall slack as an orgasm rips through your body, robbing away all of your inhibitions; all you can do is let out another high-pitched moan, praying your body gives him the answer that your voice cannot. 

“Fuck — gonna breed you, baby. Gonna have my kid in you by the weekend.”

It’s a promise. His thrusts continue, in the exact same measure as before, not wanting to fuck you, but to make love to you. “You’re so bloody beautiful.” He’s gonna cum. Cum deep inside you; give you the family you deserve.

“Look at ya — bloody work of art.” 

Flushed cheeks; breasts sweaty and heaving with countless love marks scattered around the skin; your fingers card softly through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He’s a lucky bastard, indeed. 

“I love you."

Simon repeats those three words— “I love you. I love you. I love you.” —against your mouth, feeling his entire body tauten before he spills his cum inside you.

I love you. You saved me. You’re everything to me. 

You smile up at him, flushed all prettily, and he flashes a smile back, taking a moment to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. God, he fucking loves you.

“I love you,” he says again…and again…and again.

notes: my attempt at writing smut for the first time in months. if it sucks, it's cause im in my late luteal phase.

[avtrbee]

the prince

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig

✢ a/n: i’m not gonna lie to you guys, i know i’ve been a while and im really ashamed that i come back with something that i believe this isn’t my best work at all. i had this prompt in my head for a long time and i have wanted to publish this ever since. always love hearing from all of you and i’d like to get some feedback as well <33

You were a clan kid fortunate enough to be born with the clan’s cursed technique but unfortunate enough to be a woman. Your childhood tutors had drilled the duties of wives in your head, and had made you comfortable with the idea of an arranged marriage. You pride yourself as a good traditional daughter, whose greatest honor would be marrying your husband.

Never in your life did you imagine yourself caring for a child that is not yours.

That was, of course, until you met your husband.

You have heard of Gojo Satoru before and fought him a few times during sister-school events, but never in your life did you think he’d be who you were destined for. Still, he surprised you.

“You are my wife, my equal,” he promises you at the night of your wedding. The ceremony was over and the guests have gone home. You have said your vows in front of the gods and they have bounded you to this man.

He drags you off to bed and makes you sit on the floor with him.

Satoru looks at you with the moon shining on him making him look like an ethereal god. And to you, he was. Which is why you tilt your head at his statement. “Gojo-sama, I do not understand-”

“Satoru,” he says. “I am your husband, you should call me by my name y’know.” His voice is light and teasing, underplaying the reality of the situation. “I don’t want a slave. I want a confidant. A partner. I need someone. Do you understand?”

You nod. Strangely you do. “We must protect each other.”

You were both very lonely people thrust into a union none of you asked for. There are targets on your backs for sins you cannot control. You were alone, but not anymore.

Your husband nods and he takes his glasses off. You realize for the nth time that Satoru is a pretty, pretty man. His blue eyes shine and twinkle like the stars above.

He reaches for your hand- a strange gesture but you allow it anyway. “I will do right by you,” he promises. In his mind he remembers his mother, the one who loves too much but is loved so less. Like her, Satoru’s marriage is arranged by the clan. But he will not be his father.

He is a man of his word.

The next morning you find yourself waking to an empty bed with a smell of burning food. You catch your husband defeated before the stove with burnt scrambled egg on the table. “This is what couples do, right?”

You stare at him, simply horrified that you had failed to wake up first. You were supposed to cook him breakfast, not the other way around.

Satoru catches your expression. “Hey! It’s not that bad!” He pokes the pathetic excuse of a scrambled egg. His mother had always cooked for the family, it shouldn’t have been this hard. “…right?”

You ban him from your kitchen.

He takes you to the school next. You walk behind him, as is the norm, but Satoru makes a face that pushes you to stay beside him. His voice echoes in your head, you are my wife, my equal.

The weather was perfect, but he fusses about the fact that you decided to wear a sleeveless sundress that he deems inappropriate for the wind.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?”

“Yes, Satoru.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow suspiciously, like he does not believe you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his. His face morphs to an expression of victory. “Ha! Your hands are cold. You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.” He spits, but his voice lacks venom. You pretend to ignore his poor excuse to hold your hand. Deep inside you like it. Romance is for fiction and some anime you were lucky enough to watch. A distinguished member of your the Gojo clan does not deserve it, but your husband is a romantic.

He stops you from walking out of the shade of the trees and into the sunshine. He opens his tote bag and points to a closed umbrella. “Do you need this? To protect you from- y’know.”

His points up to the sun.

Against your will you find his needless worrying endearing. He does not know his role as a husband well, but he is trying. When you finally arrive inside the Tokyo school, his hand is still clasped in your. Satoru is loud and proud when he introduces you to everyone, even if you have done nothing to deserve such pride. His co-workers pity you for being married to him and offer their condolences. Satoru protests strongly.

“Y/N loves spending time with me!” he says, stomping his feet like a child. He tugs your hand and looks at you in support. “Right?”

You smile and nod. You do. You wonder if you may love him someday.

-

The night is dark, and Satoru is not home yet. It has been a slow 8 months since your marriage. The ladies from your clan were wrong. Your husband is not cruel. He does not scold you if you use your cursed technique even when you accidentally use it on him.

You have never been someone good with words, so you decide to bake him a simple carrot cake. Your husband has a sweet tooth and he has a penchant of liking things better if it came from you.

You had only just finished adding icing the cake when you felt Satoru’s cursed energy through the door. You take a look at your cake one last time before heading towards the door to greet him.

Traditionally a wife must wait for her husband to enter in the middle of the room kneeling for supplication- a tradition most ingrained in your head more than most. As a compromise, Satoru suggested to have you greet him by the door instead because- “The first thing I want to see when I get home is your cute face. Obviously.”

You dust off imaginary crumbs off your hands by wiping it on your pants before sliding the door open.

“Welcome ho-”

In front of you, Satoru looks cold. You wonder if this is how others see him. He looks down at you with a cold gaze, He does not tremble. There is a child in his arms.

Both child and Satoru looks at you with twin cold eyes. You shiver. “He’s mine.”

You hear maids scuffle from behind you, but you do not care. The child innocently rests his cheek on Satoru’s shoulder looking at you.

There is no doubt the child is his. Your husband’s hair is on his head and dear god- their eyes. They have the same eyes.

In your head you hear the ladies of your clan again. Stand tall, Y/N. They may have their mistresses, but you will always be his true wife.

Of course you knew about Satoru’s womanizer past- present. Are you upset? Are you angry? You do not know, truly. You are simply confused.

Your clan’s ladies have prepared you for worst; what to do when your husband brings home another woman, what to say if they came home violent, where to go if you are too broken and beaten to sleep beside him. But what if your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

There is a pain in your chest you do not understand. This is expected! Men cannot be held down by just their wives. Did you expect him to be different? A cold fury washes over you

“Welcome home.” You finish instead.

-

check out my masterlist, and don’t forget to lmk how i can improve this fic <33

[srslyblvck]

it's okay, tony stark

pairing: tony stark x teen!reader

synopsis: you get dusted after thanos' snap

genre: angst

word count: 0.9k

author's note: did i cry while writing this? yes i did

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE WORLD HAD NEVER felt so quiet.

It was a strange, suffocating silence that pressed down on Tony Stark as the battlefield stretched out before him, reduced to rubble, ash, and despair. The wind carried nothing but dust, and in that dust, he could see the remnants of everyone he had fought so hard to save.

He stood there, frozen, as Peter crumbled in his arms.

"Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good," Peter had whispered, fear etched into every syllable. Tony had held him tighter, hoping to keep him here, hoping that somehow, this wasn’t real. But Peter’s body had turned to dust in his hands, slipping away, just like everything else in Tony’s life.

Now, Tony was left holding nothing, his mind still screaming, No, not him. Not Peter.

But it wasn’t just Peter.

From the corner of his eye, Tony saw you—stumbling, your legs shaky, like the very earth beneath you had begun to give way. His heart clenched, a sickening panic rising in his chest.

"Kid," Tony rasped, rushing to you. He dropped to his knees just in time to catch you before you fell. His hands clutched your arms, and then pulled you into his chest, holding you close. "No, not you too. Not you. Please."

You were his family, the one he'd found when the world had been just as dark as it felt now. He remembered that day so clearly—stumbling upon a Hydra base, expecting only weapons or enemies, but finding you. A scared seven-year-old, huddled inside a small cabinet, shaking uncontrollably, clutching a teddy bear that was too worn to offer any comfort. You had flinched when he tried to reach for you, pushing yourself deeper into that small space, as if the shadows could protect you.

"It's okay," he had whispered back then, voice gentle, soft, as if speaking too loudly would break you. It had taken time—God, so much time—but you'd eventually come out, and Tony had made a silent promise. He would protect you, no matter what.

But now, he was failing. Again.

Tony felt your body tremble against him as you fought to stay, to hold on. But you couldn't. He saw it in your eyes, the same way he'd seen it in Peter's just moments before. He couldn't lose you. Not you. Not the kid he raised, mentored, cared for more than he ever let on.

You looked up at him, your face pale, your breaths shaky, and tears welled up in your eyes—tears that you were desperately trying to hold back. Tony knew you didn’t want him to see you break. You didn’t want him to see the fear, because if you broke, then Tony would break too. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

You offered him a small, fragile smile. A smile meant to comfort him, even though you were the one slipping away. "It's gonna be okay," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "You’ll find a way... I know you will."

Tony shook his head, his voice cracking as he mumbled, "No, no, no, don't... don't do this." He held you tighter, like somehow holding on would keep you here. "You're gonna be fine. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything, just—please." His voice broke into sobs that he couldn’t control.

You lifted a trembling hand to his cheek, wiping away a tear. Your smile faltered, but it didn’t fall. "Tony... it’s okay," you whispered.

You reached up, your hand shaking, and touched his face. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers trembled as if even that small movement was too much.

Tony shook his head violently, his throat burning as he held back the sobs that threatened to tear out of him. "No, don’t... don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? You have to be fine."

But even as he said it, he felt you slipping away. The trembling in your body started to ease, but not because you were calming down. It was because you were fading.

The tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to make this harder for him. But Tony could see the truth—you were scared. You didn’t want to die.

You took one last shaky breath, your hand dropping from his face as your body began to dissolve, turning into dust that slipped through Tony’s fingers.

"Please," Tony begged, his voice raw, broken. "Please, don’t go."

But it was too late. You were already gone.

Tony knelt there, in the ruins of the world, staring at the empty space where you had been just moments before. His mind was spinning, his heart torn apart by the loss. First Peter. Now you. The two kids who had given him hope, the ones he’d sworn to protect, were gone. And he had failed.

He pressed his hands to the ground where you had been, his body shaking uncontrollably. The battlefield was quiet again, but this time it was unbearable. It was the silence of everything he had lost, everything he could never fix.

Tony could still hear your voice in his head, the last words you had spoken to him echoing in the hollow space of his heart.

"It’s okay."

But it wasn’t. None of this was okay. You were gone, and he couldn't protect you. He couldn’t stop this, and now you—his kid—were nothing but ash scattered in the wind. The weight of it all—the failures, the loss, the utter powerlessness—was crushing.

Tony buried his face in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. The tears wouldn’t stop, not now. Not when the one person who trusted him, believed in him, was gone.

All those years ago, you had been a broken, terrified child hiding in a cabinet, and Tony had promised to keep you safe. He had failed.

And this time, there was no fixing it.

[chukys-mouthguard]

look but don’t touch

2.7k words

featuring -> arber xhekaj x female reader (florian xhekaj also included)

genre -> angst, fluff, suggested smut - bar fight with protective arber standing up for his girlfriend when a drunk man tries hitting on her

note -> not proofread, been trying to get this posted for daysss, and wanted something up for y’all since it’s been a bit :)

The evening's plans weren’t anything crazy; a night out at the bar with Arber, Florian joining as he was still in Montreal competing for a possible roster spot. The opportunity to hangout with Arber and Florian was never one you’d turn down, as Florian had become your best friend next to his brother of course. Plus, anytime you got the two Xhekaj boys together you were surely in for an exciting night.

“Now boys, let’s just keep this a peaceful night out okay?”

You had each of the boys on your arms, joking as nights out with them usually resulted in some sort of drama. Both of them rolled their eyes as they reassured you that all the previous times weren’t their fault, because why would they ever admit to starting a fight? Only ever admitting to finishing them.

The bar was one you and Arber frequented, liking that he wasn’t usually recognized and you were able to enjoy a night out without loads of fans crowding him. Florian, being a younger guy in the organization, didn't have much of a following, so he passed as just another average Joe among the crowd of people. Though sometimes you wished they’d get recognized a bit more to get some free drinks out of it to lessen the hurt when you checked your tab at the end of the night. But if you had to weigh the pros and cons, you would choose them not being recognized over free drinks any day.

It gave you the freedom to dance with Arber and do as much PDA as you pleased. Not having to worry about cameras in your faces or people running to Twitter to share things about the two of you.

Arber ordered the first round of drinks, he and Florian both opting for beer while you preferred your go-to Tito’s and lemonade. Which Arber made sure to get with light ice and a slice of lemon, exactly how you liked it.

“Thank you baby.”

You smiled up at him as you traded him your card for the drink, the usual routine for nights out when Arber didn’t want to be recognized. He’d always pay you back for whatever the tab was the next day, but some nights he just preferred to avoid the chance of the bartender looking at his card and recognizing his name.

“Promise we won’t go too crazy tonight sweetheart.”

Arber smiled as he kissed your head, his hand lightly tapping against your ass playfully as you just shrugged sipping your drink.

The three of you found a high top table off to the back of the bar, enjoying people watching and just enjoying your drinks. Never being dance floor people when it was the three of you, especially considering Arber and Florian were brothers. The last thing you wanted was to be grinding on Arber while staring Florian in the face.

“Arber, your fight is getting ready to start.”

Florian gestured towards one of the flatscreens hung behind the bar. A UFC fight that Arber had been looking forward to all week long was being previewed. He smiled from ear to ear as they showed his choice to win getting ready to head to the ring.

“That’s my boy, he’s gonna win by a knockout. I’m calling it now.”

Bringing his beer to his lips you just shook your head, never much of a UFC fan, though you’d watch occasionally along with Arber.

As you finished off your first drink, your eyes went wide as you heard a familiar song begin to blare through the speakers.

“Florian, you’re kidding, we have to.”

Turning to Florian, his beer bottle frozen against his lips, you smiled like a fool as you waited for him to realize what was playing.

“Oh my god, no way. Let’s go!”

Florian chugged the rest of his beer before he took your hand, following you through the crowd as you found a spot for the two of you.

Charli xcx’s 360 was blasting throughout the bar, a change of pace from the typical music they played, but you and Florian didn’t mind. The song being one the two of you constantly sang together and were obsessed with. Arber simply watching was a smile as he laughed at how ridiculous the two of you were.

He’d never had to question Florian with you, knowing that your relationship was strictly friendly. If ever just the two of you, Florian even would act as your boyfriend to keep you safe from any drunk idiots that would try to have their way with you. So Arber didn’t bat an eye when your hands held his or your arm wrapped around his neck as you jumped up and down to the beat. Knowing it meant nothing, recognizing you were safe with his brother, he headed to find a seat at the bar to watch the UFC fight.

The song had come to an end and you were in desperate need of a drink, Florian staying behind to chat someone up on the floor.

“Tito’s and lemonade please.”

You smiled at the bartender as you found a spot comfortably next to Arber, seeing his eyes fixated on the UFC fight, but his hand lightly grazed yours to acknowledge you next to him.

“Can I get that for you?”

Your smile faded as you looked to your right, a drunken man smiling from behind his beer bottle as he gestured towards your glass.

“No, it’s okay. Honest.”

He chuckled as he scooted closer to you, glancing over his shoulder before he leaned in to whisper to you.

“You know, I saw you on the dance floor. And I think you really should find yourself an older man. That boy surely doesn’t know how to please you.”

Now you were the one laughing, knowing he’d meant Florian. The man clearly oblivious to the fact of who your boyfriend actually was, because if he knew he wouldn’t dare make a move on you.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go there, okay?”

“What, that punk is gonna do something? He probably couldn’t even land a punch. Get you a real man who can actually defend you baby girl.”

Shaking your head you glanced towards Arber, his eyes focused on the UFC fight but his jaw was clenched. Letting you know that he had overheard everything, but so far he felt you were handling your own.

“I’m just warning you, making comments like that, it’s not gonna end well for you.”

“What’s that punk gonna do about it huh?”

The man leaned in, his hand reaching for yours as his face was inches from you. The smell of alcohol on his breath repulsed you as you leaned back. Arber immediately turned to catch the moment, an arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into his chest.

“He’s not gonna do shit, but I will, how about that? You feeling tough now, big guy?”

A slight smile came across your lips as you could see the regretful look on the drunken man’s face as he realized he’d likely bit off more than he could chew.

“Hiding behind your girl huh? Very big of you. You weren’t opposed to sharing her on the dance floor, how about sharing her with me for the night. I promise I won’t bite, unless she likes that.”

A disgusting smirk came across the man’s lips as he reached out to tuck some hair behind your ear, Arber immediately standing up as he moved you behind him. Florian running from across the bar as he’d caught the tail end of things, making sure you were okay before he’d joined Arber. The two of them staring down the drunken man and his friends.

“Don’t you fucking touch her. I’ll put you on your ass in front of everyone in this bar and show them what a fucking loser you are.”

“You and your little sidekick here?”

The guy chuckled, looking at Florian and immediately underestimating him as he looked like an eighteen year old that you’d dragged along to be your designated driver.

“What’s the deal here huh? You guys both banging her? Or does he do the work and you just watch?”

Before Florian could spew his comeback, Arber’s fist connected with the drunken man’s jaw. Sending him stumbling into the arms of his friends as he grabbed at his face.

“God dammit Arber.”

Florian rolled his eyes, wishing that Arber would’ve left things alone. You tried to reach for Arber and pull him away, the last thing either of these boys needed was to get in trouble for a bar fight. That surely would jeopardize a roster spot for them.

But before you could get Arber’s attention, one of the drunken man’s friends sent Florian stumbling to the ground with a right hook.

“Fuck.”

You cursed to yourself as you knew things would surely be escalating from here, Arber never one to back down from a fight. Especially when Florian was involved. He didn’t even bother looking at his brother, knowing he’d get back to his feet and be fine, he’d taken worse punches in his day.

You kept your distance, not wanting to get in the middle as Arber grabbed the drunken man by his shirt, landing a right hook as the man’s friends tried to get in on the action. Florian quickly stepped in and pulled them off of Arber as you watched security quickly making their way over towards the chaos.

“Florian, grab him, we gotta go. Now!”

Florian wrapped his arms around Arber’s, pinning them behind his back as he pulled him away from the group of drunken men. The three of you heading for the door before security could get close enough to identify you, disappearing into the crowd as they had turned their attention to the men left bloody at the bar.

While you appreciated Arber standing up for you, it was a series of events you knew could’ve and should’ve been avoided. The idea of him and Florian jeopardizing their positions with the team because of a dumb bar fight was something you hoped wouldn’t become a reality. Hopefully you’d left the bar before anyone was able to identify the boys or worse take any photos or videos of the altercation.

The drive back to you and Arber’s shared apartment was quiet. Florian lectured Arber a bit which was an interesting change of pace, simply telling him he can’t be so impulsive, regardless if the guy was out of line or not. You knew you didn’t have to say anything to either of them, but you’d still take the opportunity to give Arber your two cents when you were alone at home. Which he was trying to calm himself down for so that he didn’t blow up on you or impulsively react negatively towards you.

“Alright, ice that hand a bit. Try to clean up as best you can, coach is surely gonna ask about that tomorrow. Y/n, you have my permission to give him hell in there.”

You laughed as you rolled your eyes, climbing from the back seat of Florian’s truck as you wrapped an arm around Arber’s.

“How about you worry about hiding your black and blue jaw Florian? Good night!”

You smiled at him as you pulled Arber towards the doors of your apartment building. His expression was anything but amused, his pulse still beating a bit fast as he was trying to relax but the whole event had him furious.

The ride in the elevator was quiet, his hand holding tight to yours as his thumb traced circles over your skin. Usually the only thing he could muster when he was angry, never able to be cold towards you completely.

He headed right for the bathroom once inside the door, knowing you’d follow and pull out a first aid kit to assess the damage while also giving him shit. But he never took offense, he knew it was wrong to be getting in bar fights, no matter if he thought it was warranted or not.

“So, we’ve got cut up bloody knuckles. A nice black eye forming here, a slight cut lip. I’d say it’s not the worst I’ve seen you walk away with.”

A soft smile appeared on your lips as you began to dig through the first aid kit. Arber watched you as he clenched his fist, trying to ignore the pain he felt. His anger finally subsided, an apologetic look in his eyes and you looked up at him. Your hand moving to tilt his face away from you as you cleaned up his lip.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re mad.”

You sighed as you shook your head, digging back through the kit as you turned your attention to his hand.

“I’m not mad Arber, I just don’t think you two needed to get wrapped up in something like that. I mean, you have to set an example for Florian. And bar fights, that’s an easy way for you to lose your spot and for him to earn a bad reputation right out of the gate. I just, I need you to think before you throw a punch next time.”

Arber winced as you cleaned his knuckles, trying to maintain his tough guy image despite the pressure against his cut up skin with the alcohol soaked gauze.

“You want me to just sit back while a guy disrespects you like that? Puts his hands on you? Fuck that. He opened his mouth so I had to put him in his place.”

His frustration began to slightly build up once more, replaying the words spoken by the man in his head along with the image of him touching you. Arber took a deep breath as he knew it was no use getting worked up over it all again.

“Or, you could’ve simply given him your two cents, and walked away. Because now how are you and Florian going to explain these bruises to the coaches tomorrow? You two fought each other drunk?”

He watched as you packed up the first aid kit with a sigh, his hand moving to tuck some hair behind your ear behind caressing your cheek.

“I’m sorry, I know you were trying to stop things from getting to that point tonight. I just can’t help that I love you so much. The sight of another man touching you, or hearing them talk to you like that asshole did, just made my blood boil.”

Your eyes shifted from the first aid kit to meet Arber’s, seeing the apologetic look in his eyes as he smiled softly.

“I’m happy to know you love me so much you’d fight someone for me, but as much as I like the sight of you a little roughed up, I prefer you without a scratch on you babe.”

Your hands tangled in his hair as you moved to stand between his thighs while he sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Oh come on, you love me with my battle scars.”

His hands slid up your thighs, resting on your ass as he playfully smacked it, biting his lip as he stared up at you.

“Mmm, I do love them. Except they make it a little hard to kiss you when your lip is busted.”

Arber licked his lip, gauging the size of the wound with his tongue.

“I think we could manage not to make it any worse. Plus, I think I deserve a little thank you for being your knight in shining armor tonight don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head, Arber’s hands moving from your ass to your hips as his fingers dipped below the hem of your shirt to tickle your skin.

“You sure you don’t want to call Florian? Since apparently you guys share me?”

You laughed as you headed into your shared bedroom, discarding your top before climbing onto the bed. Arber playfully gagged as he followed behind you, one hand caressing your cheek as he kissed you, the other working on the button and zipper of your jeans.

“Baby, if you’re trying to turn me on, don’t ever fucking mention my brother getting to do anything sexual with you. We both know I’d never share you with anyone let alone my brother.”

[ilylovelyz]

papa!atsumu who proves time and time again that he's a huge sucker for his precious family.

the pregnancy of his girlfriend (you), was unplanned and somewhat expected, being atsumu have not been being safe with you for the past few weeks.

the two of you were young, barely even 25, you had thought that atsumu would be against it, wanting independence and that delicious feeling of no baggage.

and yet, when he found out you were pregnant, he was over the moon.

it was almost surprising, best care scenario was him saying, "oh cool," — you didn't expect him to scoop you into his arms bridal style and kiss you all over.

it seemed he loved the idea of being a father, and especially being the father to your children, his adorable highschool sweetheart.

he was quick to tell his brother first, and then the rest of his family, and whichever close friends he had, nonstop yapping about how he was gonna be a dad, and how he's gonna have such cute kids.

he immediately brings up the idea of getting married to you, it wasn't a foreign topic for the both of you, it was just something the two of you never got around to doing.

he didn't mind it he had to elope and have a small get together, he just wanted to see you have his last name, liking the way it rolled off his tongue, "miya y/n."

during your entire pregnancy, he was nonstop hovering and touching your stomach, getting excited whenever he felt the baby's kick.

it almost seemed he talked to the baby more than he talked to you at some point, either rambling on about his day or crap-talking his own brother.

it was almost refreshing, to see a new side of this once carefree guy.

now, he was wanting to spend more time with you at home, sometimes skipping practice just to be with you, saying that he'll just "practice from home."

he just wanted to lay his head into your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as he whispered sweet nothings to your unborn baby.

it was almost endearing to see him become especially 10x more protective of you, giving a death glare to anyone that came too close to you. never failed to say how amazing you looked pregnant with his baby.

while he wasn't sure what he wanted to name the baby, he just knew he wanted it to sound "cool".

god, you wish you took a picture of the look on his face when you told him you weren't just having one baby, but two. you thought maybe that fact would get him scared, but once again, you were proven wrong.

"two for the price of one, how cool," he would say, his hand cradling his chin as he thought.

"atsumu, that's not how it works.."

he wanted both a girl and a boy, a girl because he liked the idea of a mini you, and a boy just so he would do "boy" things with.

he did look a little nervous when it was revealed you were having two girls instead.

your pregnancy cravings made him do a double-take, but he would always end up watching you with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised with shock at whatever concoction you made.

he was almost late for the birth.

he frantically cursed at whoever was in his way while speeding on the way to the hospital, cursing the damn geezers who were still for some reason driving like they were in slow motion.

he felt really mad at himself for being late to the labor, kissing your sweaty forehead as he mumbled promises against your skin, promising to make it up to you later.

he was really supportive during the birth, his hand never leaving yours, yelling bouts of encouragement and never once complained when your grip became a little too tight for his liking because if anything, he was impressed at your strength.

he couldn't help but shed a tear or two when he first held his baby-girls.

how precious, maybe a little alien looking, but still precious.

he cursed to hell, cheekily making a comment about how someone must've been cutting onions.

absolutely adored his girls, showing them off to anyone who had working eyes. nothing made him happier than when they giggled at the silly faces he would make.

as they got older, their preference for their father showed greatly, and atsumu knew this very well, making a snide comment or two about how he was the "favorite".

the carefree man you once knew was gone, now being replaced with this protective and almost anxious guy who cried when his daughters first went to daycare.

your daughters for sure took after their father in many ways, as they somehow inherited their father's sassy attitude and confidence.

it never failed to make you laugh when atsumu was being mercilessly ganged up on by two toddlers, taunting him ruthlessly.

he'd try his best to counter their sassiness, but would ultimately find himself "wondering" where they got this attitude from.

oh, how he loved his daughters greatly, even when they were bullying him until he was red in the face, even when they were nasty and sick and borderline contagious with whatever illness they had.

he adored his daughters, never wanting to waste a single moment away from them. cuddle time was a special time to him, one on either side of him as they all drifted to sleep, disney movie long forgotten.

no, he'd never fail to say it, nor would he ever shy away from the fact that he's a proud father to his precious baby-girls.

[lemoncrushh]

We're Gonna Have a Baby

Summary: Telling Harry he's gonna be a dad.

Warnings: Loving couple sex, lots of fluff. 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 2165

A/N: A sweet little one shot written in 2016. This is in first person, but no name is given.

I told him yesterday. You should have seen the look on his face. If I'd been smart, I would have had my phone with me to take a picture.

I'd taken the first test almost a week ago. I'd thought I was pregnant. In fact, I kinda even knew I was. We hadn't been using protection for a couple months, deciding we could start trying, but not really trying - if that made any sense. My period due date had come and gone. So, when I sat on the toilet that morning and peed on the stick, I should have been prepared. However, when I first saw the little plus sign, I sat in shock, blinking over and over in case my eyes were deceiving me.

So yesterday morning I decided to take another test, just to be sure. I'd decided not to tell Harry yet just in case it turned out to be a fluke. The disappointment he was bound to feel was not something I was willing to bear. His light-heartedness about the whole thing was just a facade, I knew. He wanted kids. Badly.

He kissed me before he rolled out of bed, announcing that he was going to start breakfast. Once he was out of the room, I hurried to the toilet and unwrapped the second pregnancy test. I waited just a minute or two before checking the results, even though I knew it didn't even take that long. I just wanted a moment longer to consider it.

This time, I wasn't scared. I promised myself that whatever the result was, I would be happy. Because I was happy. I had Harry. He loved me and I loved him. That was all I could ask for. If I was pregnant, I knew he would be ecstatic. We would have the most loved baby there ever was. But if I wasn't, that was okay too. We would just keep trying.

With a sigh, I rose from the toilet and washed my hands before finally taking a peek at the test. A plus sign. I was most definitely pregnant. I bit my lip and dried my hands with a towel, carefully picking up the test to inspect it closer. I was startled by a knock on the door, nearly dropping the test into the sink.

"Babe?" called Harry from the other side.

I cleared my throat. "Yes, love?"

"We only have a couple of eggs left. Should we go out, or do you want something else?"

"I'm fine with anything," I called back, still staring at the test. A baby. Harry and I were gonna have a baby...

"Well, tell me because I already have the bacon out and the-"

With a giddy grin, I turned to the door and threw it open. Harry stood with his eyes wide, his hand resting on the door frame.

"What would you like?" I asked him.

"I don't-" he began with a shrug until I lifted the pregnancy test in my hand.

"A boy or a girl?" I raised a brow.

Harry glared at me, his eyes shifting between mine and the test. His lips parted, but he made no sound. I noticed his chest rise and fall with quick, heavy breaths.

"Is...is that..." he stammered.

I giggled. "Yes, it is."

"Baby..." he breathed, looking back at me.

"Yep," I nodded. "We're gonna have a baby, Harry."

Finally finding his footing, he wasted no more time to erase the space between us and wrap me in his embrace. I wound my arms around his neck as he cried in my ear.

"Oh my God."

His body shook against me. I murmured in his ear that I loved him which he echoed in returned. When he finally stood up straight and I got a look at his face, his cheeks were wet with tears. My heart melted as I wiped them away with my thumbs, cradling his face in my hands.

"How do you feel?" he asked me. That was so like Harry. To have concern for me and my well-being before his own.

"I feel fine," I replied. "No morning sickness yet."

"No, I mean..." he swallowed, "how do you feel about becoming a mother? I know we discussed it before, but...this is real and..."

I shook my head. "Harry. I still feel the same. Actually, no. I feel even better. I'm having your baby. Our baby."

A smile took hold of his lips, revealing his dimples. "My baby's having my baby."

I giggled again, licking my lips. "That's right. And I've never been happier."

Harry seemed to study my face as he lifted his hand and let the back of it graze across my cheek.

"I love you so much," he declared, his voice cracking.

"I love you, too."

"C'mere," he whispered before sliding his hand around my neck and pulling me closer into a deep kiss.

When his tongue met mine, I immediately felt weak in the knees, the inevitable fire igniting within. I grabbed his forearm with one hand, my other pressing against his chest, taking a fistful of his t-shirt. His plump lips taking my bottom one between them, Harry's other hand slid down my shoulder and arm to my waist. Silently, he backed into the bedroom, taking me with him. When his long legs bumped into the edge of the bed, he finally released my mouth and rested his forehead against mine.

"Would it be completely unromantic if I said I want you so bad right now?" he muttered, his voice raspy.

"No," I answered. "Not at all."

I took it upon myself to grip the hem of his shirt and lift it, my fingers touching his bare skin. His stomach was warm. Harry then reached behind to pull the shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor. I stared at his face, his eyelids heavy as my hands roamed up his torso and back down to the waistband of his shorts. His jaw dropped slightly, the end of his tongue escaping the corner of his mouth as he gave me a sexy smirk. Slipping my hands inside, I cupped his bottom before rounding to the front of his shorts. His breath hitched when my fingers met his erection, gliding my hand up his sensitive skin.

"Mmm," he sounded, his eyes closed.

I pushed his shorts down and Harry stepped out of them. His hands on my waist then, he grabbed the sides of my nightgown, lifting it over my head. The fabric had barely hit the floor when he sat back on the bed, pulling me towards him.

Laying me down, he hovered above me, his beautiful face glowing in the morning light that shone through our large window. I literally felt my heart speed up in my chest just from the way he was looking at me, as though this was our first time, and everything was new again.

"I'm so lucky," he murmured.

For a split second I was about to ask him why. But I didn't have to. Never short on sentiments, Harry had spent the last four years of our relationship declaring his love for me. I never once felt slighted in the least, or had any resentment. He showered me with affection and repeatedly showed me how lucky he felt to have me. Now I was giving him the one thing he wanted that he didn't already have.

Lowering his lips to mine, he proved it once again in the tender way he kissed me. I tangled my fingers in his hair as he made his way to my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to my collarbone. My breaths got jagged when he scooted his body down, his fingers threading through the sides of my panties. He nipped at my hips, dragging his teeth along my skin before adding the lacy garment to the pile on the floor. Then on his way back up, he made it a point to stop at my stomach, giving it sweet, soft kisses. Before he lifted his head, I could've sworn I saw him mouth the words "I love you".

When he reached my chest, he gently ran his tongue around one nipple, taking it into his mouth. I threw my head back, my back arching automatically at the sensation. Heat pooled between my legs as he switched breasts, giving it the same treatment.

"Harry..." I managed to say, though it was barely audible.

He lifted his head, his eyes mimicking the desire that was no doubt apparent in mine. Lifting one of my thighs, he situated himself between them. He entered me slowly, my body stretching to accommodate him. I watched him swallow hard before letting out a deep breath, thrusting a bit more.

"You okay?" he inquired when he noticed I was biting my lip.

I merely nodded, running my hands up his arms. After all this time, he still asked, always wanting to make sure I was receiving the same pleasure he was.

Our bodies rocked slowly and evenly as we became one. His skin was so hot against mine, yet I couldn't get enough of it. I began to feel the build-up as he hit my most sensitive spot. My eyelids fluttered closed, and I opened my legs wider, my toes curling. Moans escaped my throat, and I ran my hands down his sides to grip his hips, guiding him where I wanted him.

"Ohh my love..." Harry groaned in my ear.

"Yeah..." I whined. "Right there."

Quickly lifting his head, he gazed into my eyes. Usually at this point Harry would begin to thrust faster and harder, both of us screaming each other's names as we came. But we both knew this time was different. It was special.

Harry continued the slow pace. Though it was nearly agonizing because we were both so close, I also knew sometimes this was the best sex. Because it wasn't just sex. This was two people in love, bound together and committed. It only made it that much better. As did the slow, easy thrusts.

Finally, I felt Harry's body tremble above me as he bit his lip. His brows furrowed as he let out a deep groan, then another. His head fell beside mine again and his breath tickled my ear.

"Come," I whispered.

"Not before you," he moaned. "But God, I'm so close."

"I am too," I muttered. "Together."

I felt Harry nod before he lifted slightly and wrapped his arms around my waist. His thrusts then, though sloppy, were sped up and when he hit my spot again, I felt the orgasm rip through me. Harry followed, my name falling from his lips as his chest shook.

He laid on top of me for a moment while our breaths evened out. Then rolling onto his side, he pulled me to him, planting passionate kisses on my mouth.

"I'm so in love with you, baby," Harry cried. "You make me so happy."

"Me too," I said, lifting my hand to touch his cheek, my thumb swiping across his chin. "You're everything to me."

He stared back at me for a while, his fingers in my hair. I decided not to ask him what was on his mind, because I felt like I knew. However, when I caught a tear falling from his eye, I quickly wiped it away.

"Honey..." I whispered. "What's that for?"

Harry chuckled nervously, shaking his head. "I don't know. Just emotional, I guess."

I nodded. "It's gonna be okay, Harry. We're gonna be amazing parents."

"Yeah," he agreed, his face lighting up. "Yeah, we are."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him one more kiss. With a sigh, he laid on his back and I rested my head on his chest, tracing his tattoos with the tip of my finger. Suddenly, I felt my stomach growl and Harry and I giggled at the same time.

"Guess I could go for some breakfast now," I commented.

"You never told me what you wanted."

I rose up onto my elbow and looked around the room as though it held the answer somewhere.

"I'm thinking eggs...and sausage...bacon...hash browns...fruit...toast and jam..." I listed.

"Jesus, that's a lot of food," said Harry.

"Well, I'm eating for two now, you know?"

Harry chuckled and pulled me back down on top of him. I giggled with glee as he began to tickle me, his morning stubble scratching my cheek. I folded my arms across his chest as I looked down at his handsome face.

"We're gonna have a baby, Harry," I cheered.

"I know!" he grinned, pushing my hair off my shoulders.

"Our love made a person." Even after saying that, I got choked up.

"Sweetheart..." Harry cooed. "You're gonna make me cry again."

"Sorry," I murmured, kissing his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips. "Just happy."

"Me too, my love," he whispered. "Me too."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

Also, if you enjoy my writing, please consider joining my Patreon!

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore.

notes: wooooooo this is the start of the heavy plot and finallyyyyy getting into their relationship 😎 it’s gonna be spiral from here on out.

GENESIS

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me.” You frowned deeply, eyes squinted as you stared at the figure who had cornered you at the women's washroom. “You go from wanting nothing to do with me, to not even letting me freshen up in peace.”

“Alas, you’ve become my job because of your reckless actions,” Dottore said, unperturbed. “I assure you, I enjoy this no more than you do.” 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you replied dryly. 

The empty smile that painted Dottore’s lips was now edged with a line of cruelty—he was absolutely enjoying this.

“You should be grateful,” he began, and you had a sudden feeling that you weren’t going to like what he was about to say next, “the attention you so desperately craved is finally being given to you.” 

You stared at him, a turmoil of emotions eating at your insides, the most prominent of which being outrage but you forced your face to remain cold, as if you were simply dealing with one of the nasty noble kids who liked to poke fun at your lack of a soulmate.

“You will find that the attention I ‘so desperately craved’ was received elsewhere,” you responded, watching the corner of his lips tighten at your words. Digging the knife in deeper even though you probably should have left it, you continued with: “I have as much desire for your attention as I do for a bug’s.”

“Elsewhere as in that lowly aristocrat you attended our event with?” he asked, faux-curiosity dripping from his tone but you knew better. His smile promised bloodshed and violence and you were not going to throw Artem to the wolves. 

“Not quite,” you said. “He still lives back in Fontaine, Artem was just a means to an end.”

Sorry, Wrio.

“Is Artem aware of that?” Dottore asked coolly—he didn’t believe you, that was unfortunate. 

You’d somehow have to warn Artem to keep an eye out but you weren’t sure if you would get the chance. Moreso, you didn’t even know if it would matter. You had a feeling that even if you did warn Artem, it would do him no good. He wouldn’t be able to protect himself from the Second Harbinger. 

“Careful, Doctor,” you chided. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

“Jealousy implicates caring,” Dottore didn’t hesitate to counter, lips flat and unamused, “and I do promise you that the only thing I care about is making sure you don’t get in the way of my research. Or have the past two decades of neglect not made that clear enough for you.”

You stared at him, tongue kissing the back of your teeth as you forced back another snide comment—you thought you might be testing his patience a bit too much. The hint of amusement that had crept onto his lips was long gone, replaced by an unnerving emptiness. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were standing, your back flush to the wall and his body mere inches from yours, head tilted down as he spoke to you. 

Suddenly, the thin barrier of air between the two of you felt all the more hot. There was no way for you to slip away back to the event where you thought you might be a hint safer with all of the aristocrats’ eyes bearing witness. Worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted him to move away but you knew that you had to make him for the sake of your mission.

A shot in the dark to try to force him to take a step back, you leaned up on your toes, bringing your face closer to his. You couldn’t see his eyes beneath his mask but you imagined that you could, catching a glimmer of red as you moved in close. Your lips brushed his as you said: “I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

He stepped away.

You smiled thinly, raising your chin.

“No,” he said icily, “I am not.”

“Of course not,” you said, swiftly moving away but before you could even reach an arm’s length distance, gloved fingers curled around your wrist.

“Where are you going?” Dottore asked, you hated how he suddenly sounded amused because you knew it meant nothing good for you. 

“Back to the event before my date and his family start worrying about my absence,” you said, trying to ignore how the pads of his fingers trailed across your inner wrist—you didn’t even think he noticed the instinctual motion, much less how it was throwing you off.

“I’m afraid they’ll have to continue worrying about your absence,” Dottore drawled, grip on your wrist strong and unwavering.

“And why is that?” you asked through grit teeth.

You didn’t like where this was going, you felt like a cornered animal. 

“Because you will not be returning to the event, the Tsaritsa has so graciously offered you a stay in Zapolyarny Palace,” Dottore said easily as if he had not just handed you a death sentence and ripped away your dreams of avenging your father all in one. “You should be honored, not many are given such an opportunity.”

You stared at him, expression void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what this meant: they were making you a political prisoner. This was a mistake. You should have seen this coming. You thought that the worst that could happen was that they would kill you, you hadn’t even considered that they could use you against your nation, your family. You despised your stepfather but he would not be the one affected by this: your mother, your half-siblings, your grandfather, Wrio and his father, they would be the ones bearing the burden of the consequences of your actions. 

For all of the anger and sadness and hurt you had felt because of your soulmate, you had never hated him until now.

“Are you kidding?” you asked quietly, with at least enough control over your voice for it to not crack as you spoke. You refused to allow yourself to be humiliated because of him.

“Unfortunately, I am entirely serious,” Dottore said but he didn’t sound as if any of this was unfortunate. You thought he might even be pleased if you could catch a glimpse of his eyes beneath his mask. “Don’t look at me like that, you put yourself in this position by coming here. You must’ve known that this was a possibility.”

You didn’t respond, staring at him—speechless for the first time in a long time. 

“Unless you didn’t.” He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in you. “One of my colleagues will be watching over you during your stay here. I urge you to lose your attitude with him, and with the rest, should you encounter them. You’ll find that they are not quite as patient as I am.”

“What?” you demanded, your body suddenly felt cold and your anxiety skyrocketed as if this couldn’t get any worse. “Why not you?” 

“Careful,” he mocked the same tone you took on him earlier. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re desiring my attention again. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

You scoffed. “It has nothing to do with desiring your attention as it does with fearing for my life. There you go with the self-importance again. Why not you?”

“You being here has opened up a weakness that I cannot afford for the others to learn about lest they take advantage of it,” Dottore said dismissively. “I will be limiting any and all contact with you for both of our sakes’.”

“And he won’t take advantage of it?” you pressed, you could feel the panic creeping in. 

Who was he passing you off to? 

Wasn’t it more of a risk to pass you off to someone else than to just keep you at his side?

“Oh, he will,” Dottore answered. “Just not in the same way the others would.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring at all. 

You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to cry but you refused to let the tears fall. You had never felt so helpless before. You wanted to go home—you were in over your head, flailing in open water trying to find a buoy before the currents dragged you under and the one person in the world that was supposed to be a lifeline for you was standing on a boat watching you drown. 

“I suppose that’s my cue,” an unfamiliar voice spoke, amused. Your gaze turned down the hall, eyes falling upon a dark-haired man dressed in black, gloved fingers intertwined in front of him as he walked closer to the two of you. “She’s quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?” 

Had he been there the whole time? How had you not noticed? Were you that absorbed in your conversation with Dottore that it blinded you to your surroundings? You were usually good at picking up presences—an asset that came along with your family’s passed down hydro art. 

“She will behave for you,” Dottore talked about you as if you weren’t there, but his voice was low in warning and you knew that was directed toward you. 

The man hummed, as if not entirely pleased with that statement before he focused his attention on you, eyes upturned and an unfriendly smile painted on his face. “The Regrator, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. I will be supervising you during your stay here. I do hope you prove yourself to be useful.”

The final statement sounded more like a threat than an off-handed comment.

An anchor attached itself to your ankle, dragging you down. 

Your soulmate watched as you sank in murky waters.

For some reason, Dottore just couldn’t seem to get his head on straight. 

As he made his way down to the small lab he had set up in Zapolyanry Palace, all he could think about was the expression on your face as he handed you off to Pantalone. You looked at him as if he had just physically signed your death sentence—you clearly weren’t stupid, you had to know that Dottore wouldn’t do anything that he thought would put your life at risk, so he wasn’t understanding why you had looked at him like that and he didn’t like it. 

He tried to focus on getting back down to the lab—Theta was down there and Dottore was sure that the segment made a mess of the experiment he had been running  but he couldn’t even muster any irritation, much less anger. He could only manage a vague sense of bewilderment as he made his way down the dark halls of the palace. 

You couldn’t have been that angry that he wasn’t going to be the one looking over you. You didn’t even want anything to do with him anyway, you made that very clear. It was the best course of action for the two of you—the easiest way to make sure that the bond didn’t affect either of you more than it already had. Once he figured out what you meant by ‘the Hydro Archon isn’t the only god blind to threats’, he’d get you whatever evidence you needed and send you on your way back down to Fontaine. 

And then he’d never have to see you again and the two of you could go on with your lives as if this never happened. 

The thought of that left him unsatisfied and again, the bewilderment that was fogging his head grew. Why did that leave him unsatisfied? It was what he wanted. He didn’t want you around dragging him down and distracting him. The Fatui was going into the most critical few years of its existence, he needed to be able to put all of his attention on his research so then why…

“I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

Dottore exhaled as your words crossed through his head again, as his lips tingled at the reminder of the feeling of yours brushing his. He knew you had done it to get him to back up, he had known what you were doing as you did it and yet, it had still caught him off guard and he wasn’t used to being caught off guard. 

Was he the one unclear? Dottore didn’t think so—in fact, he thought he was perfectly clear with his expectations and needs, or lack thereof, that is. But the more he thought back to your words, your expression when you left with Pantalone, the feeling of you close to him, the more he hesitated and hesitation simply was not acceptable. 

Getting to the bottom of the steps to the lowest floor of the palace, Dottore’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask as a burning smell hit his nose coming from the direction of the metal door of his lab. 

Theta, Dottore thought, livid. 

All thoughts of you swept away as he stalked the rest of the way down the hall, strides long and purposeful before he threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The Theta segment’s head snapped up, eyes wide like a caught deer. In his hands was one of the vials that Dottore had been studying for residue energy of the old gods, the vial burned and blackened at the bottom, creeping up to the top—a putrid scent of rot and fire filling the room. 

“What did you do?” Dottore demanded.

Theta put the vial down, backing up a few steps. “It was burning when I got here,” was all he said in response. “You must’ve left it on.”

“Liar,” Dottore spat out, temper already having thinned from you having worn it down during both conversations he had with you and on top of that, his own confusion about you. He hated feeling as if he didn’t have complete autonomy over himself and your arrival in Snehznaya had absolutely destroyed any sense of control he might’ve had, questioning everything he thought he knew as true. 

Reaching forward, he snatched the vial from Theta’s hands, it burned the pads of his fingers but he didn’t let it bother him, peeking inside to see if there was anything to salvage only to find all of the remains he had gotten his hands on lost.

Dottore shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he tried to calm himself down, convincing himself that deactivating Theta would do more harm than help. He didn’t have the materials to make a new segment and he needed all hands on deck for the upcoming project, including hands as disastrous as Theta’s. 

“I specifically told you not to touch anything,” Dottore said tightly, tossing the ruined vial into the waste bin before directing a cold gaze onto Theta. 

Theta didn’t respond, staring at Dottore in a way akin to how a lesser predator would in front of a greater one—trying to decide whether or not it should fight back or flee. After a few moments of tension, Theta ultimately made his decision, raising his chin. “What happened upstairs?” 

Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask. “Excuse me?” he asked, devoid of emotion as his mind raced.

Could they feel that he had met you? 

That would spell more trouble than Dottore was willing to deal with. What awful timing, he thought bitterly. Of course, you show up during the few weeks he had all of the segments returning to the north for briefings before the Fatui finally began to set out on achieving their ultimate goal: obtaining the gnoses and bringing down Celestia. 

Epsilon and the younger segments had already been in the north—they were still at the estate a few miles west of the palace. Delta had dropped off the Iota segment the other day so he could join Rho in tracking down the rogue belligerent in the east but they were making their way back to the estate, albeit slowly. Zeta should’ve arrived at the estate at some point tonight and Lambda would be arriving any day now. 

Dottore suddenly had a headache, trying to figure out what to do. He did not feel comfortable enough to leave you at Zapolyarny Palace alone with Pantalone but if he stayed, the segments would get suspicious and start showing up to snoop around, and if he told one of them that you were here to send them to watch over you, he knew damn well that the rest would know in a matter of hours. He’d either be facing a noose or a sword—either way, his ultimate fate would remain the same: the segments would know. 

“What happened up there?” Theta asked again, more intensely this time. “We could all feel it. It was strange. I don’t know how to describe it. What was it?”

Briefly, Dottore reconsidered deactivation as he stared at the younger version of himself, who was getting more and more impatient as each second without a response passed. He could see the way his fingers were twitching and the way he was shifting on his face, it was only a matter of time before he started getting more aggressive. He thought maybe he should let it get that far, that way he can just kick Theta out of the lab and go back to working—or more importantly, go back to figuring out what he was supposed to do about you. 

“What was it?” Theta demanded and then Dottore watched his eyes widen through the holes of his mask. “Was it h-”

He never got the chance to finish the question. The doors to his lab slammed open and Dottore had never been so grateful before to see Epsilon… until he noticed the panicked expression on his face and the way the Gamma segment was half-hiding behind him, hands shaking and lips pressed together tight. He wouldn’t even look Dottore’s way, gaze directed on the floor between them. 

“You’re supposed to be back at the estate,” Dottore said firmly, a foreboding feeling weighing on his chest as he stared at the Epsilon segment. 

“The Iota segment never came back from exploring the estate grounds,” Epsilon said, voice steady. Behind him, Gamma took in a shaky breath, turning away. “Kappa slipped away while we were trying to find you.”

“You’re much quieter now,” Pantalone noted as he led you deeper into the palace, down dark, twisting and winding halls that you desperately tried to keep track of but it was like a damn maze. You thought you might never be able to navigate them on your own. “You had quite the mouth with the Doctor. I’ve never seen someone speak so scathingly with him and live to tell the tale.”

You didn’t acknowledge his comment, eyes tracing the portraits hung up along the walls—lined with gilded garnishes and decorated with a soft glow emanating from the moon outside. You wondered if it was by chance that the shadows cast over the portraits seemed to highlight some of the paintings' more distinct details or if it was a specific design choice. 

You remembered Pantalone mentioning that this was his wing of the palace and somehow you doubted that anything this man did was by chance, even something as meager as making sure paintings were positioned appropriately for the best aesthetic. You let out a breath, looking back out toward the window—toward freedom. It was dark out now and clouds were rolling in swiftly over the moon, smothering the little natural light, a storm was coming, metaphorically and literally. 

Even if you did get the chance to escape, which you doubted would even arise to begin with, all you would be doing is walking to your death. You’d freeze in the winter storms of Snezhnaya, you doubt you’d even make it to the line of trees half of a mile away from the palace. 

Dully, you wondered if that would be a better fate than this. 

“Oh?” Pantalone continued when you didn’t respond to him. “Is your cruelty reserved only for him? What a shame, I wanted a taste of that sharp tongue of yours.”

You bit back a scoff, staring straight ahead as you continued forward, ignoring the way his violet eyes laid heavily on you, waiting to see how you responded to each of his digs. He was testing you. For what? You didn’t know and you didn’t like that. You were having trouble reading the Regrator and reading people was one of the few things you could actually pride yourself on. 

You spent more than a decade of your life sitting in the back of the courtroom, watching proceedings and watching people because you figured that the better you were able to read people’s emotions and predict their answers and response, the better able you would be to hide your soulmate from those that liked to pry. 

Pantalone was an anomaly. Draped in the finest of Liyuean silks and donning the most expensive gems from the northernmost mines of Snezhnaya, a Harbinger and one of the wealthiest men in Teyvat, you expected that the man was well-respected, especially in his own nation… but you had seen the way that the Snezhnayan aristocrats looked at him. 

Where they looked at the other Harbingers with anxiety and fear, they looked at the Regrator with nothing less than derision, whispering to each other and ridiculing him behind his back. You had meant to ask Artem why that was the case but you had never gotten the chance because someone decided to interrupt the two of you.

So why? Why do they look at a man who had made Snezhnaya prosper with such mockery? The nation had been fumbling before his promotion—a powerful military, yes, but a powerful military meant little politically when they were in constant economic recession. They had gone from being the poorest nation in Teyvat to the second wealthiest, just below Liyue itself; they had gone from having no international political sway to having several nations in the palm of their hand. 

So why?

Your mind raced, finally looking at Pantalone from the corner of your eye. He held his chin high as he walked but there was a stiffness in his shoulders that didn’t match the otherwise lackadaisical confidence. His skin was borderline gaunt—you barely noticed it, it was clearly getting healthier but there was still an underlying haggard look that seemed inherent now, as if he had suffered years of sickness or starvation and no matter how hard he tried to rectify it, the damage had already been done. 

Aristocrats were a very predictable bunch. They found commonality with those that were similar to them and they found joy in deriding those that tried to be similar to them. You had seen it many times in the Fontaine courts, particularly when the nouveau riche families tried to find places with the old-blooded aristocrats. They could sniff who was their own and who was not like wolves sniffing out their prey.

The Regrator was not a born aristocrat. 

“I can see the gears turning,” Pantalone murmured. “Tell me, what conclusion have you come to, little spitfire?”

You looked at him, studying him for a moment before saying: “You weren’t born an aristocrat.”

Pantalone smiled, as if whatever answer he had been looking for was answered. “You lot really can pick out a needle in a haystack.”

You hummed, “It’s not hard when the needle is bright red when the rest are silver.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows, curious, “It’s that obvious?”

“If you’re looking for it,” you explained. “Aristocrats are always looking for it.”

“I was an orphan,” Pantalone said, leading you further down the halls. You had given up on trying to keep track of the twists and turns. “I lived on the streets for two decades.”

“And yet here you are,” you responded. 

The richest man on the continent, a Harbinger, the reason for an entire nation’s economic boom.

“And yet here I am,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough for some people, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” 

“Yes,” you said dryly, “and I’m sure you’ll make them eat their words eventually.”

Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, drawing to a stop outside of a dark door. You came to a stop next to him, eyes meeting his as he watched you carefully. 

“Naturally,” he acknowledged but now there was a darker edge to his voice, a vein of poison seeping into his tone. “You will be staying here, I will be right across the hall. If you need anything, just knock.”

If you try anything, I’ll be there to stop you, you translated silently, catching the cold look in his eyes even as he smiled thinly at you. You gave him a smile that was just as void of kindness, pushing open the door to step into the room you would be staying in.

Vast and well-decorated, your eyes traced the span of the room from the large bed against the wall to the dressers that you wouldn’t be able to fill because the little clothes you brought to Snezhnaya were back at the inn that you had been staying at. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite of the bed and wide windows that rattled against the winds of the incoming storm. 

“I’ll be sure to send some of my subordinates out to fetch you some more outfits,” Pantalone offered but his offer was not made from generosity. The heartless, underlying meaning of his words struck deep: you are not leaving any time soon. “I believe we’re going to get along very well with each other.”

“You… were supposed to be watching the younger segments, Epsilon,” Dottore said, now sitting at his lab table as he tried to keep himself calm, voice tight and teeth grinding. 

Every time he thought things couldn’t get worse, somehow they did. It was almost comical at this point how blatantly the Celestial gods seemed to have it out for him, using his life and misery as some twisted game of entertainment for them to watch.

“I’d like to see you try to handle all three of the younger segments at once,” Epsilon responded, voice somehow calm and snide at the same time. “… I nearly forgot, you couldn’t even handle one young segment, could you?”

Dottore’s gaze snapped toward Epsilon, rising to his feet in an instant. “What did you just say?” he asked lowly—he had dealt with enough insolence the past few years from his segments, and with you here now too, there was only so much left he could handle before he snapped.

Epsilon smiled casually. “My apologies,” he said, faux-remorse dripping from his tone. “I forgot the Beta segment is still a sore subject for you. I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.”

Except the Epsilon segment did not forget anything and he, more than any other segment, always thought before he spoke. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen and articulated, each one with a meaning of its own that sometimes even Dottore couldn’t follow along with. 

He thought when making the Epsilon segment that he would be the easiest segment to deal with—empathetic and sentimental. But somehow, he became the most manipulative and cruel of all of the older segments, giving kind smiles all the while speaking words that ripped into each individual segments’ insecurities. 

He and the Delta segment in particular tended to be at odds the most. Delta was one of the easiest segments to set off and for some reason, Epsilon rose to Theta’s defense frequently—be it solely for the reason of getting under Delta’s skin or him actually sympathizing with the destructive and volatile segment, Dottore didn’t know or care. What he cared about was the fact that it led to him and Delta clashing nearly every time they were in the same room as each other; Delta getting loud and violent while Epsilon just stood there with amused smiles and quiet, antagonizing comments. 

The next week would be exhausting with the three of them all in the estate together. And now with you—he cut off his thoughts abruptly, only getting more irritated. You just had to make everything more complicated. He had to focus on finding the younger segments before he allowed his mind to inevitably drift back off to you.

“Where was he last seen?” Dottore asked, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into the metal of his lab table as he awaited a response from the segment.

“He was searching the ruins to the east of the estate,” Epsilon said. “He’s been there and back tons of times, I figured he would be okay on his own while I finished up what you asked of me.”

“You figured wrong,” Dottore said immediately, voice curt and icy. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. He gets distracted easily. He has to be somewhere between the palace and the estate. I can track a general location.”

“I’ll come with you,” Epsilon offered. “We’ll cover ground faster together.”

Dottore stared at him for a moment, studying him irritably. He hadn’t forgotten the snide comment the segment had shot his way—he wondered if this was his attempt at an actual apology or if he had some ulterior motives.

He nearly scoffed, knowing the answer instantly: Epsilon always had ulterior motives.

“Theta,” Dottore said coldly, gaze cutting to the side toward the other segment. Theta went stiff at the acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “You are to find Kappa. This is your chance to prove you are more useful active than destroyed. Do not fail.”

Theta’s lips pressed together tight, twitching as if he wanted to say something but decided against it. He nodded shortly after a moment and then looked away.

“What about me?” Gamma asked suddenly. “What do you want me to do?”

Dottore stared at him a moment. He would do more harm than help with him and Epsilon out looking for Iota—the last thing he needed was having to worry about another one of the younger segments getting lost while searching for Iota.

“Stay with Theta, help find Kappa,” Dottore finally said. “There are a lot of people in the palace for the promotion of the Eleventh. Many of whom would hurt him or use him as a weakness to try to get to me. Find him before they do.” 

Gamma nodded but swallowed thickly, nervous at the mention of all of the people in the palace for the event. Usually, the attendees all tended to stick to the ballroom during the course of the event but toward the end, some of their bolder enemies meandered down the halls of the palace in hopes of a chance just like the one Kappa wandering off presented. 

He needed to be found before that could happen.

His gaze drifted off to one of the thin, high windows in his lab as Theta and Gamma set off to look for Kappa. A familiar, foreboding feeling settled in his stomach when he noticed a storm rolling in over the mountains in the distance. 

“Are you ready?” Epsilon asked, tightening the drawstrings of his cloak as he prepared to go back out into the cold.

Dottore nodded, reaching for his own hanging up on the hook near the door. “Let’s go.” 

It took about forty minutes of just sitting around the room with nothing to do for you to leave it. He hadn’t locked the door on his way out and he hadn’t told you to not leave the room, so you assumed that you had some semblance of freedom. 

Realistically, a part of you figured that this might be what Pantalone wanted—he wanted you to leave the room and do something suspicious so he could interrogate you, but in your defense, you didn’t have anything malicious or suspicious planned. You just wanted to go up and down the hall to get a sense of where you were.

You hesitated as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door, heart beating rapidly inside your chest, an irrational fear of being attacked as soon as you stepped outside of the room sweeping through you. Logically, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that Dottore would hand you off to someone that would put you in a position where you could get hurt, or worse—for his own sake, if not yours. 

With that thought in mind, you pushed the door open, breath catching as you peeked your head out to look around. 

No one. 

The hall was dark, only dimly lit by a few candles in the distance. There was not a soul in sight and the only other door besides yours was on the opposite wall of the hall—you assumed that was Pantalone’s room, he had said he would be nearby. You could see a faint light emanating from beneath the door, so as quiet as possible, you slipped out of your room, shutting the door behind you gently. 

Looking up and down the hall, you decided to go to the right first. You wouldn’t be out for long—you just wanted to see what the wing of the palace you were staying in looked like, you didn’t like living somewhere where you didn’t even have a layout of the area. It made you feel helpless and trapped. 

Exhaling deeply, you kept your eyes peeled and your attention focused as you made your way down the hall, trying to ignore the creepy, expensive portraits that lined the walls—you swore that their eyes followed you as you walked by. 

The further you walked, the more anxious you got. It was a cold, creeping feeling that made you feel as if someone was watching you. Each little alcove that was built into the wall suddenly looked as if it was housing enemies, you thought the shadows seemed to be moving. 

Just as you were about to abandon your mission and run back to your room, unable to handle the fight or flight feeling rising to your chest, you caught a flash of red from one of the smaller alcoves. Your head snapped to the side, peering through the darkness to try to figure out what you had just seen—your heart leapt to your throat when a pair of red eyes stared back at you. On instinct, your vision reacted to your shock and anxiety, buzzing against your skin.

But the red eyes widened in surprise, fear, seemingly trying to press back against the wall but unable to move any further inward. It was only then that you realized how the pair of eyes were rather low to the ground—at the height of a child’s. 

“Come out,” you said quietly, kneeling down to the ground to try to make the kid feel more comfortable. 

After a few moments of silence, the figure drew out from the shadows, shoulders tense and hands locked in front of his body. He was young, looked only around five or six at most with tussled, silvery blue hair and trembling lips. He seemed nervous, borderline terrified, his fingers were shaking where he was holding them in front of him. 

It was then that you realized just how similar he looked to Dottore. The hair was styled differently but the same color and you remembered the glimmer of red you had caught beneath his mask when you had leaned in close. You stared at the kid, at a loss for words.

Did he have a child? It didn’t make sense. Dottore didn’t seem like the type of person to have a lover, much less kids. You’d like to think you had a decent idea of him considering you spent over fifteen years feeling his emotions and ten receiving random words from his train of thought. Shouldn’t you have realized at some point that he had someone else? Was that why he was constantly ignoring you? 

A familiar, ugly feeling stirred in your chest. Jealousy. You thought back to the snide comment you had made to him earlier, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of it. 

The thoughts raced through your head, rampant and damning, were you about to be like your stepfather? Intruding on a pre-existing relationship because you happened upon your soulmate. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to throw up, but the longer you stayed there without speaking, the more uncomfortable the child looked, refusing to meet your gaze and shifting on his feet anxiously. 

He was lost, that was clear enough from his body language and demeanor so you held your hand out to him. You figured that Dottore would come looking for him eventually, or someone would at least, and you thought he shouldn’t be wandering around the halls when there were still so many people in the palace. You could still hear the music and chatter in the distance.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding your hand out toward him. You watched as he stared at your hand curiously, an odd expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything as he moved closer to you. Your brows shot up when you noticed he was limping, gaze dropping down to the blood staining his pants. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer, which you should have expected, the kid seemed shy and anxious. Instead, as soon as he got close enough to you, you lifted him up to sit him on your hip as you rose to your feet. The child let out a surprised noise, fisting at your top when he realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground. 

“You shouldn’t be walking on that,” you told him. “I’ll bring you back to my room to check your leg. The Doctor will come for you soon enough.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you couldn’t help the way your heart squeezed as he relaxed into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel his eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing your neck as they drooped. Instinctually, you hummed softly, one hand rubbing circles between his shoulders as you made your way back to your room, trying to sort through all of your racing thoughts as he fell asleep against you. 

Was it his son? It had to be unless the kid was some weird scientific experiment… which you supposed was also possible. You sighed heavily, making it half of the way down the hall back to your room when you caught sight of two figures standing at the end of it—you couldn’t make out their faces, it was too dark, but you could see their forms dimly illuminated by the moon glowing high in the sky. 

Instantly, something didn’t sit right in your stomach about it, alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing as one of them stepped closer. 

You stepped back, grip tightening on the boy. He stirred a bit, confused, but you kept your attention focused on the two new arrivals. 

“Hand the boy over.”

RBS APPRECIATED

[icarusredwings]

"Shh... shh It's alright.."

Logan's eyes flutter open, hearing the raspy voice. Like he's been crying. Sitting up, he watches as his husband was once again in the corner of their bedroom, rocking and patting his babydoll, sitting next to her wooden crib that Shop Class had made for him, Fordge's great niece Cherri to be exact. Sweet kid. Wade ruffled up her ears every morning, despite her groans to stop, she would giggle and become upset if he didn't.

God those kids loved him.. but it seemed recently this specifc kid, Their plastic kid at that- had his attention most evening's.

"Wade..?" He whispers, but he's ignored. This isn't uncommon. Usually, during these episodes, it was best to let him go. To let him rock the baby until she 'stopped crying' or until HE stopped crying.

"Yeah, I know sometimes things might not always make sense to you right now. But hey, what daddy always tell you? Straighten up, little soldier. Stiffen up that upper lip. What’chu crying about? You got me.. daddy won't let no one hurt'cha... Promise" He whispers, giving their daughter a small kiss on the scalp, holding her so gently and yet so firm, afraid of hurting her by squeezing and or dropping her.

The way he sat cross legged and stared at their daughter, Logan could almost see his cogs turning.

Was that so hard for his own father to do? To protect him? Not hurt him? Love him?

"Shhh... shhh..Now, hush little baby don’t you cry everythings gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up little lady I told ya, Daddy’s here to hold ya through the night."

Was that... Eminem??...

Of course Wade of all people would since Eminem to his infant...

He whispers, rocking back and forth with closed eyes, holding her tightly, patting her as he went on.

"I know mommy’s not here right now, and we don’t know why. We feel how we feel inside. I might seem a little crazy, pretty baby, but I promise mama's gon' be alright."

Look- Logan was old. But he wasn't that old. Wade had changed the lyrics. Just slightly enough to still match beat, but it meant so much, telling the baby doll that her 'feelings' mattered even if irrational, telling her that he was insane, and promising her everything was going to be alright.

You may not think so, but this was progress. Moments like these were looked down upon, and while people might not realize it, this sort of play IS a form of regression and was just as good as a coping mechanism as him playing with horses was, the only difference was he was playing with dolls. By comforting Evelyn, he was sootheing himself. It was much easier to tell someone else it was okay rather then yourself.

He was tricking his brain. Subconsciously forcing himself to believe things would be fine. The only part that he wasn't sure of was 'Evelyn's' need for a mommy. Was this Wade missing his own mother.. or was this missing Vanessa and what they could have had? V was still around. They saw her once a week at the very least. Still went on dates, Still hung out afterward (if you get my drift) The only thing really different was that the 'baby machine' was no longer in business. Having shut down a while ago. She had (at least- if Logan understood correctly) Had a partial hysterectomy so her painful periods would stop.

"And daddy’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. Imma give you the world, I’ma buy a diamond ring for you. Imma sing for you, I’ll do anything for you to see you smile." He sang quietly, giving her sweet hugs, soft kisses, and the patting became lighter, more off beat and calm.

It wasn't that Wade would be a "Bad" father but he could barley take care of himself. Anyone who knew him- actually knew him- knows Wade wouldn't ever be able to hurt a baby. Not on purpose anyway, but with how his mind was, it wasn't a good idea. Kids? Sure. A baby? No.. And it's not like Ness didn't talk to him about it beforehand, letting him know that she was keeping her eggs but they would never be able to have a baby unless someone agreed to be a surrogate. He wasn't mad. No, not at all. He understood perfectly.... a bit too perfectly.

Logan, being the person who he is though, could smell him crying in the shower later that day. He couldn't imagine being in those shoes.. to be told the person you were planning on having little kits with- Er I mean kids with- wouldn't be able to carry them anymore.

"And if that mockingbird don’t sing and the ring don’t shine, Imma break that birdies neck! I’ll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya and make him eat every karat, dont fuck with dad.. hah....you like that? Yeah?... Daddy's little psycho.." He smiles, seeming to have finally 'calmed' Evelyn enough for her to stop 'crying'.

Deep down, Evelyn scared him. Wade behaved as if she truly was telling him things at times. At first, he thought it was just his own voices playing tricks on him. And then he thought it was lingering elements of a bad dream, a random little girls voice running through a nightmare.

Wade went into detail about each dream, talking about it for days afterward, describing how his darling girl was reaching out for him, calling for her daddy with open arms. From the sounds of it, she wasn't an infant, though. Fluxuating ages but the ones where she begs him not to leave well... leaves him like this. In shambles, crying on the floor at 2 in the morning.

"You comin' to bed, papa bear?" He teases.

Glancing up, Wade sighs, the kind of relief in which he could finally lay Eve back in her cradle, giving it a good push before coming to crawl under the sheets. "Comin' mama bear."

[normal-internet-user]

Hii! How are you?

I was hoping you could do a one shot or hcs for a platonic/sibling PJO thing with Percy. I was thinking this kid shows up at camp-half-blood (their age being like 11-13) and being like a carbon copy of Percy and everyone notices except for him. They become pretty close and during a capture the flag game the Reader gets claimed by Poseidon, and Percy is just in shock like: 😲 holy moly

I think it would be really cute and I love big bro Percy

The reader is gender neutral

This is completely /nf and feel free to delete it if you don't want to! Thank you so much! Remember to drink water and take care of yourself!

-Axel <3

Ahhh this is actually such a cute IDEA-

Percy With a Child Of Poseidon Reader...

When you showed up to camp, no one really thought much of it.

The Titan war was over, demi-gods were showing up left and right, getting claimed along the way.

The thing that was weird was your lack of the latter.

Weeks after you arrived you were still unclaimed, with no change in sight.

It frustrated Percy because the gods had literally JUST promised not to leave any kids unclaimed.

As a result, he decided to spend time with you, just because he noticed you were feeling slightly put out at your lack of a godly parent.

Percy seemed to be the only one who hadn't noticed that the two of you next to each other was like looking back and forth between a mirror of features.

Everyone else did though.

Annabeth really did try to just- nudge him in the direction that MAYBE POSSIBLY-

But no, Percy was as oblivious as a blind cat after you moved the furniture.

Honestly he liked hanging out with you.

It made him feel good to know he was keeping you occupied instead of thinking about not being claimed.

He felt like an older brother ironically enough.

He had you sit with him during meals, and during activities he was with the Hermes cabin most of the time to help you.

Your very first capture the flag was exciting for him,

Him helping you put on your armor before plopping am oversized helmet on your head was like a mother watching their watching their child ride a bike for the first time.

He was so proud!

Sure you tripped over yourself and fell on your face, but that's okay! Everyone stumbles sometimes!

You're doing great!

Honestly, it was his fault for not helping you tie your shoes.

It was safe to say, the two of you had sufficiently bonded.

Which must have been the reason Poseidon decided to claim you now of all times.

He must really like capture the flag if that's how he claimed both his kids.

Percy was floored, and incredibly confused.

Everyone else was more or less like, "yeah saw that one coming." and you were trying to look up at the floating trident over your head through your helmet.

Percy feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

Confusion, excitment, slight frustration- but mostly excitement.

He was confused as to how as a child of Poseidon you'd managed to stay alive this long.

Unless your mortal parent had also kept a Gabe around to hide your demigod smell.

The thought made him wince.

He was practically vibrating when he showed you around Cabin 3.

You'd seen it before, sure, but now it was your cabin as much as his.

He wouldn't be sleeping alone anymore and he was exstatic about it.

And he can't wait to introduce you to Tyson too.

And his mom, oh she's gonna love you.

Especially if your mortal parent isn't in the picture either by choice or tradgedy.

Percy was gonna be the best big brother ever, it was his job to protect you now, so he would.

Ta-da! This is legit, the first thing I have posted in FOREVER holy shit, it felt SO good to write this out, like-

Anyway, all done! Here you go, I wanted to keep going but I figured it was long enough lol

[sunkiss3dlily]

to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part three | joel miller x reader

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3604

Summary: You find yourself in trouble with David and his people, and you decide to sacrifice yourself for the ones you love the most.

Note(s): Okay, you guys are gonna hate me but I decided to make it four parts as, once again, the third part became too long, but I promise, the fourth will be the last part! I hope this sets you up for the grand ending we are all waiting for haha! Thank you for all the support! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

Fiery orange embers adorned the stack of logs before you. David sat just behind them, opposite you, while the lifeless form of the prized buck lay on the floor, maintaining the distance between you and David.

"You weren't kidding about being a good shot," David complimented, rubbing his hands together by the fire he had made in the centre of the abandoned shack where you two had taken shelter while waiting for James to return with the medicine. "You must've had a lot of practice with a weapon like that, huh? Someone in your group teach you?"

You, for one, did not appreciate his attempts at small talk and straightened up, keeping your rifle balanced on your lap, aiming straight at him just in case. You rolled your eyes slightly, keeping an eye out for the other man, James, in case he tried to sneak up on you.

"You're not one to trust easily; I get it. I've been there." He nods, and you narrow your gaze back towards him. His attempt to relate to you did little to ease your skepticism. The flickering flames danced across his face, casting shadows that only deepened your suspicion. He let out a breath. "Do you believe in God?"

You let out a scoff of disbelief that he was asking you that question.

"I know, I know," he chuckled. "Weird time to find religion, especially with it being the end of days and all, but I've... I've seen and felt things—things that cannot be explained. It's like there's a force out there guiding me and protecting me." He notices your unamused expression and shrugs. "Call it what you want, but I choose to believe in God and his will, and by acclaiming that faith, he has shown me that everything happens for a reason."

An odd chill that isn't just the breeze of the cold wind rises on your skin, multiplying the goosebumps by a hundred. You shift uncomfortably in your seat.

"Like us, meeting in the woods today—maybe, just maybe, our paths crossed for a good reason. Perhaps our meeting was for a greater purpose."

You raise your eyebrows, yeah right. "What, like some divine intervention?"

David nods, his eyes filled with a glimmer of excitement that unsettles you to the core. "Exactly. Like some sort of divine intervention. Call it coincidence if you will, but I believe there is a plan in motion, and our meeting is a part of it. Maybe we are meant to help each other in some way. It may sound far-fetched, I know, but sometimes life surprises us in the most unexpected ways."

An exasperated sigh passes your lips, and it is evident that you are not playing into David's hand by opening up to him.

He clears his throat, sitting up, and this grabs your attention instantly, your hands tightening once more on the rifle. "I can prove it to you, if you like."

"Prove what?"

He smiles and gestures aimlessly: "I can prove that everything happens for a reason, that you and I were meant to meet each other this way."

You gaze back at him with a stoic expression, clearly unamused by the direction of the conversation. However, beneath the surface of your irritation, a subtle pulse of unease begins to intensify, growing more palpable with each passing second in this man's presence.

David leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, as if trying to imprint his words on your mind. "You see, we didn't expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing'll grow. The game's been hard to find, but I'm sure you know all about that." He paused, letting the weight of his words linger before continuing. "So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to scavenge what they could."

A shiver ran down your spine, and you tightened your grip on the rifle, sensing there was more to this story.

"And only three of them came back." David's eyes gleamed in the flickering firelight, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "The one who didn't make it was a father. A man with a daughter, just a teenager. Can you imagine the pain of losing your father in these times?" He let the question hang in the air, studying your reaction.

Your heart raced, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as your thoughts unconsciously wandered to Ellie and Joel.

"You see," he continued, leaning back slightly but maintaining an unsettling gaze, "it turns out he was murdered. Murdered by this crazy man."

Another heavy pause lingered in the air, his words sinking in, and you could sense the direction this conversation was taking, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

"And get this." David's tone took on a chilling cadence. "That crazy man was traveling with a little girl and a woman that looked just like you."

In a swift motion, you rose to your feet, rifle poised, and aimed squarely at him, your finger coiling around the trigger.

A contented smile painted itself across his face, and he playfully shook his head in amusement. "See? Fate has a way of guiding us."

Your heart raced, a symphony of adrenaline orchestrating its frantic beats as the thought of Ellie having to defend herself and Joel against who knows how many of those men right now consumed you. "You've been watching us all this time?"

David casually brushed aside the notion with a nonchalant shake of his head. "No, not at all. Just you, just today, just by chance. You see, it wasn't planned, but here we are nonetheless."

The panic inside you was something you hadn't felt in a long, long time. You felt utterly terrified, though your tone was angry as you gritted out, "Where the fuck is your friend? If he's so much as—"

David's eyes glinted with calculated charm as he interrupted your brewing anger with a sly smile. 'I told you, we are not here to cause you or your little girl any harm. We can protect you, both of you. Isn't that right, James?'

You turn rapidly, only now noticing James standing in the doorway, rifle raised and trained on you. You wish you'd had the common sense to remove the bullets when he left. Taking a step back, you aim the rifle back at David but keep your eyes trained on James. "Shoot me and I'll take your fucking preacher down with me."

James glares back at you, though his hold on the rifle is shaky. "You killed Alec."

"She didn't kill anyone, James," David calls, redirecting the taller man's attention back to him. "Lower the gun."

James looks as though he is going to argue, but David shakes his head, and so James concedes.

"Did you bring the medicine?" You ask, keeping your gaze flitting between both men equally so neither of them can catch you off guard. James nods his head once under the watchful eye of David. "Toss it over here."

To your surprise, the bag is tossed your way almost immediately, and you clutch it desperately in one hand, feeling the bottles and syringe against your icy fingers as your heart races. You take a few steps back, watching them both cautiously.

"He's sick, isn't he? The man?" David speaks with a feigned sincerity as he moves to stand up. "You know, he's the only one we need. You and the little one can make it out unscathed if you just hand him over. It's not like he's going to make it out anyway."

You ignore his words, stepping back slowly, the snow hitting you almost immediately as you make it out of the shack. You gesture your gun towards both of them, "I'm leaving, and if I ever see either of you again, I'll fucking kill you."

"It doesn't need to be like this," David calls, still trying to persuade you despite your threat. "You and your daughter can join us, no questions asked. You still have a chance."

You fire a warning shot at James' boot, the impact jolting him with pain. His rifle reacts, rising in response, but you're already hurtling back through the trees. Desperation fuels your every step as you race through the clearing, the silent prayer to any deity echoing in your mind – a fervent wish that Joel and Ellie will still be alive when you reach them.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

You descend the basement steps with ragged, labored breaths, catching Ellie off guard as she tends to Joel's semi-conscious form, gently offering sips of water.

"Where the fuck were you?" Ellie demands, her red-rimmed eyes reflecting her worry. "You were gone for hours!"

You shake your head, having no time to properly respond, dropping to your knees beside the mattress where Joel lies. You lift his coat and shirt, revealing the wound that looks even worse than before.

Ellie abandons her attempts to moisturize Joel's lips, watching as you retrieve a syringe and a bottle of penicillin from the bag James gave you. "What is that? Where did you get it?"

"Penicillin. It'll help with the infection," your breathing is shaky, and you can tell your demeanor unsettles Ellie. Ignoring her second question, you are too panicked to care. "Shit. Where do I put this?"

Ellie looks at you, dumbfounded, before turning to Joel and shaking his shoulder gently. "Hey, man, where do we put this? Joel? Joel!"

You draw liquid into the syringe while Ellie attempts to wake Joel, desperately wracking your brain for any inkling of an idea on where to administer it. However, the looming threat of David and James has put you on high alert, making it challenging to think straight. With an unsteady breath, you declare, "Okay. I'm gonna put it in the wound."

"Yeah, o-okay," Ellie nods, not entirely confident in your idea. "You got this."

Her words, albeit sweet, do nothing to reassure you.

"Fuck," you mumble, reaching over to clasp Joel's limp hand in yours. "Please don't let this be the thing that kills you."

His hand twitches slightly as you make contact, but you are too preoccupied with angling the syringe correctly to notice.

You press down onto the plunger as the syringe makes contact, and Joel's hand tightens on your own, weakly, yet the first proper sign of life in so long you could weep. "I'm here," you murmur, more for your own assurance. You made it in time."I'm sorry," an apology for the pain you are causing him physically, but secretly an even bigger apology for him being the injured one. If it had been you, you wouldn't want them risking their lives like this for you. You'd want them to move on, but you couldn't, and wouldn't, stop trying for him. For him and Ellie.

He groans faintly, and his grip on your hand loosens entirely as you finish plunging the medicine into his wound, steadily retracting the syringe and covering him back up, tucking him under his coat carefully. You lay a hand over his forehead and feel he is still quite hot, but hope that the medicine will start fighting against his fever soon enough.

As you settle down onto your knees beside the mattress with a shaky breath, you look up to meet Ellie's eyes. "No one came here while I was gone? You didn't hear anyone outside?"

"No," she shakes her head, her eyes filling with that familiar fear that you've only seen a few times in her usually bright eyes. "We're not safe here, are we?"

You breathe out shakily, debating on whether to lie or be honest. You slowly shake your head, deciding that it was best for her safety if she knew what was really going on. "I met two men in the woods. They knew who I was, what Joel did to that man. They were members of his group."

"They want to kill us?" Ellie asks after a beat of silence, looking down at the floor to avoid your gaze and to avoid you noticing her fear.

"Not us," and that is all you need to say for Ellie to understand.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

You administered another dose of penicillin to Joel's wound after a couple of hours, fumbling blindly in the dark. As you repeated the motion of clasping his hand in yours, you felt the familiar warmth of his grip in return. This time, it seemed just a little bit stronger, though that might have been your exhausted and desperate mind playing tricks on you.

"You'll wake me if anything happens, right?" Ellie's voice cut through the darkness, causing you to visibly flinch as you were checking Joel's temperature, your hand tensing against his cool skin. She seemed to sniffle before speaking again. "You won't just leave?"

Clearing your throat softly, you replied, "I won't just leave, I promise. But you need to get some rest. We might have to start moving tomorrow, whether Joel is ready or not. We'll have to make our way back to Jackson to get him some proper help."

Silence followed, and you found yourself lying down beside Joel, shuffling as close to him as the floor allowed.

"Are they going to come for us?" Ellie's voice startled you a few minutes later. You did your best to calm your racing heart before responding. "I don't... I don't know. They might try, which is why we need to start moving as soon as possible."

"You didn't kill them? The two men."

You sighed, closing your eyes. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

You didn't know. Something niggled at you with the realisation that maybe you should've.

"Goodnight, Ellie."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

Sleep eluded you that night, despite pressing close to Joel and feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palm. Even the reassurance of your rifle's presence, just a quick flex of your fingers away, failed to bring the peace you sought.

As the morning rays beamed overhead, the burden of exhaustion settled throughout your body. Yet, giving up wasn't an option—not now, not after everything.

Drawing another dose of penicillin into the syringe, you administered it into Joel's wound with an exhausted expression. Closing your eyes, you pressed slowly down on the plunger, dozing for a moment until you felt fingers wrap around your wrist.

It was so gentle that it barely phased you until you finished pressing the plunger down. Opening your eyes, you found a large hand clasping your wrist. Without much hesitation, you wrapped your free hand around Joel's hand and looked at his face, relief blooming in your chest.

'"Joel," you whispered softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping Ellie next to him. His eyes were half-lidded, maybe even less, but they remained fixed on you. Squeezing his hand gently, you observed as his lips parted, though no audible sound emerged. "It's okay; you're okay. Just rest. We're right here. I'll get you through this, I promise."'

After covering his wound and tucking the coat back around him, you released his hand and settled back down beside him. His head turned in your direction, eyes still open, and he gazed at you with an expression that eluded your understanding. Yet, you could discern a softening of his features as he looked in your direction, as if looking at you brought him some comfort.

His fingers twitched in the corner of your eye, and upon closer inspection, you found them almost outstretched. Gently reaching down, you intertwined your fingers with his, and he responded with a reassuring squeeze.

Tearfully, you lowered your head and pressed it against his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his on the mattress. "Thank you for holding on," you murmured into his shirt. "Just a little longer, okay? Just until I can get you back to Jackson."

You feel him nod, and as you look up, you notice his eyes are beginning to close fully once more. You squeeze his hand, and for a moment, you feel his cold thumb gliding along the back of your palm in a soothing motion until he falls back to sleep, his hand still in yours.

Smiling faintly into his shoulder, you follow him into the realm of sleep.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The frantic call of your name jolts you awake, tearing you from the easiest slumber you've experienced in days. Instantly, you sit up, watching as Ellie races down the staircase, mirroring the urgency you displayed just the day before.

"Ellie? What's happening?" Your voice, thick with sleep, responds, momentarily forgetting the looming threat of David and James.

She clutches Joel's rifle, urgency etched across her face. "They're here, the raiders. There's a whole group."

Panic courses through your veins as you quickly shake off the remnants of sleep, your mind racing to formulate an action plan. "Did they see you?" She looks too panicked to respond, her gaze fixed on the staircase. "Ellie? Focus! Did they see you?"

"No, no, I ran back here before they could." Ellie blurts out, her eyes flicking back up the staircase. "They've got guns and—fuck, my footprints. They're going to track us here."

You know she's right.

"I'll lead them away," you decide almost immediately, moving to stand up but stopping when there is a light tug on the bottom of your coat. You turn, seeing Joel looking up at you with an intense desperation in his eyes. He struggles to speak, just like before, but with the way he shakes his head, you can already tell what he is trying to convey. "I have to, Joel. I have to! I'll... I'll lead them away, and if... if I don't come back, then that'll give you both enough time to get on Callus and start back to Jackson."

His eyes plead with you, but you turn away, and Ellie's face is panic-stricken in the same way.

"They'll fucking kill you!" Ellie argues. "We need to stay. We can't go without you!"

"You have to, Ellie. You have to."

Another firm tug on your coat, and you turn back to look at Joel. His eyes are watery, and his mouth opens, but all he can utter is, "Stay."

You shake your head, fighting back your own tears. "It's going to be okay. I'll... I'll find my way back to Jackson somehow."

He shakes his head, and you bite your lip to hold back a sob. You reach down, intertwining your fingers. He holds them without a second thought, and then you squeeze.

Once. I.

Twice. Love.

Thrice. You.

Through your tears, you manage a smile as his body tenses in realization. Before he can react, you gently pull away from his grip and stand up, taking your rifle in stride. You can't bring yourself to look back at Joel, even as you hear him attempt to utter your name numerous times in a hoarse voice. It's torture, but you force yourself to hold back.

"Ellie." You stand in front of her, and she avoids meeting your eyes until you gently place a hand on her shoulder. That's when you notice the tears swimming in her eyes. "It's going to be okay, okay?"

Her lip wobbles, but she nods, replying shakily, "Yeah."

"You're so special, Ellie. You're going to change the world; I already know it." You assure her softly, cupping her cheek. She leans into the touch—the gentlest she's ever known. "But do as I said, alright? Don't you dare follow me. Stay with Joel, give him another dose of the penicillin, and get both of you back on Callus if I don't make it back. Then, just get the fuck out of here. Don't look back, okay? Not for a second."

She attempts to say your name in a pleading tone, but you silence her with a shake of your head.

"Promise me, Ellie," you implore. "Promise me that you will not follow me, please."

She nods, and her lip trembles so much that you can't resist pulling the teenager into your arms. One of your arms wraps around her shoulder, while your other hand rests against her ponytail, running your fingers through her dark locks as if for the last time. Neither of you had ever embraced each other before, but it feels right now. Ellie means something to you now. Joel means something to you now. You have to do this for them.

"I have to go," you murmur, gently pulling away from the hug. Ellie frantically wipes away the tears sliding down her cheeks as you smile sadly at her. Without finding the strength to turn around and say a proper goodbye, you rush up the staircase, closing the door behind you. Leaning against it, you let out a soft sob, grappling with the thought of never seeing either of them again. Yet, you'd rather have them lose you than for you to lose them. You scan the room hurriedly, searching for something to block the door and buy them some time.

Your eyes land on a heavy-looking wooden table pushed against the wall. With a surge of adrenaline, you grip the table's edge, your muscles straining as you drag it towards the door. The weight feels immense, but you refuse to let it defeat you. Sweat beads on your forehead as you finally position the table in front of the door, wedging it against the frame as best you can. It may not hold for long, but it's all you can do in this moment.

Pressing your hand against the door as a silent goodbye, you make your way out of the house, determined to end this.

©️sunkiss3dlily, 2024.

[stgosupremacy]

Hi so this is me ranting about Ash being Goh's n01 supporter in project mew 😍 (as he always is ofc)

"I wanna join. Project Mew! For sure!"

love that cute sneaky side view

"You know what? I'm gonna cheer you on with all my might!"

the way he said you sounded a bit like it was a thank you for goh always cheering on ash during his battles 🥺 (it also sounds like I'm analysing too much again looooooooollllllllllll)

I always thought this was Ash just being dead supportive to Goh like he always is but he meant this so much 😭😭😭💗

"You're coming too, Ash?" (the hand on goh's shoulder omg and ash looks so cute idfjkmf)

"I promised I'd always cheer you on, didnt I?"

everyone smiling around them lol (they so know whats going on)

"I'll clear the mission for sure!"

"That's the spirit, Goh!" (always so supportive 🥺💖)

STOP HE'S SO HAPPY TO BE ALLOWED TO GO WITH GOHH AW 🥺

"You failed. You'd be toast if I hadn't saved you."

"Wait just a second, what are you talking about failed!?"

i love how as soon as ash sees goh's sad face he gets his protective boyfriend mode activated 🥰🥰🥺

"Good for you, Goh! I'm fired up about this too!"

i am so tempted to make a post on how touchy these guys are bc oh my god they are so touchy 💀💀 and hellllllll ash was not lying at all about being fired up about project mew, the entire trial period it was almost like ash was taking the missions, bless him 💖😂

"I'll help any way I can!"

it's so sweet to me ash constantly reminds gohof this fact <3

look at danika leaning in the back guys she knows

god ive talked ab this episode far too recently to rant about it here but 🥺😂

"You can count on us! Dont let it win!"

🥰the way ash looks at him

"Plus, I'll be there, you'll be fine!"

no words from me just pure SUPPPPPPPPPPPORTTTTTTTTTT is radiating here (and also goh looking like he's crushing bad)

"Only the challenger is allowed in this mission."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

bless the way he seems so fed up when danika says he cant come- LIKE CMON CAN THEY GET ANY CUTER??? 😭

but as soon as goh says this.....

"No worries Ash, I'm sure i'll be succesful!" (his smile is so sweet)

"You're right Goh, just make sure to pass that mission!"

...Then ash is totally supportive of it if Goh's fine with it too 💗

"Right?" 🥰

"Right!"

yeah....sorry i had to include that it was so cute

"Goh!"

"Dankia, did you do this on purpose!?" the way ash is so stressed for goh for literally no reason but his safety, enter: PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND MODE ACTIVATED AGAIN WOOOOOOO

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN GOH DOESNT GET ANY TOKENS STOPPP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the way ash is looking at him so intently...i cannot 💀💀💀💀💀

"This time I'm going by myself."

"WHAT? HOW COME?" 😨😨 (that literally deserves to be in caps because he indeed shouted it lol ) he sounds so in disbelief, it's so sweet he just sees going along with Goh everywhere now his second nature 😭💙💙💙

but after goh explaining why, then ash just smiles and wishes goh the best of luck (as he always does bc he's just happy goh is happy)

like

why is this boy so precious

"I made it through!" I SEE THAT BLUSH HEAJDKAJ (it was obviously from excitement but blushing goh is quite rare in ultimate jrnys and he looks too cute when he does it) 😂

"No joke?! Congratulations Goh!"

YAYYYY HES SO HAPPY 4 HIM 🤗🤗

"Thanks to you, Ash!" 🥰🥺💖

"Thanks to all of your hard work!" STOPP LIKE the way how he tries to deflect the praise back onto goh makes me smile every time but yk so does this entire scene at this point

right the way goh ends the call and breathes out as soon as he does is definetelyy not gay at all 🤨🤨🤨 (fr tho they make each other so happy and i'm always living for it....if you havent noticed)

...right i should stop thats enough for today

[igotanidea]

Nutcracker: Dick Grayson x reader

christmas bingo day 5: nutcracker

***

“You know when you said nutcracker this is definitely not what I was expecting….” Y/N muttered looking at Dick, who, grinning like a madman was standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, dressed in an apron and holding – well, the literal nutcracker.  As in – a kitchen tool.

“Should have known better.” He smiled even wider, causing Y/N to start worrying about his mental health.

“Yeah, I guess I should have known better.” She muttered rubbing her forehead.

“Cas is the fan of ballet, me – not so much” Dick shrugged “besides, if I wanted to spend a few hours with you in a dark room then-“

“Shut up!” she rushed towards him putting a hand on his mouth to stop his babbling “there are kids in this house!”

“Tim is hardly a kid, and Damian-“

“Damian catches up way too fast for a boy his age. And I’m pretty sure you want to avoid the awkward older brother talk with him?”

“Oh sunshine, believe me I’m more than ready for an awkward older brother conversation.” He grabbed her waist and pecked her cheek and before she realised what was happening, she had another white apron tied around her waist.

“Dare I ask-?” she sighed, bracing herself for any crazy idea that might be forming in her boyfriend’s mind

“walnuts. gingerbread.”

“gingerbread?” she repeated, frowning in confusion before it finally hit her “oh no! no! damn it! No way in hell!” instinctively she moved towards the kitchen door, before Dick grabbed her from behind and prevented from escaping his arms.

“It’s a couple bonding exercise!”

“It’s a couple killing practise! Remember what happened last year?! “

“It’s not like I burnt those cookies on purpose! You were extremely distracting with that pout on your face.”

“Can’t remember signing up for a cooking experience with Dick Grayson!!”

“You know that’s actually a nice idea. Maybe I should start my own TV show…”

““you wouldn’t even be able to run a youtube channel-“

“maybe I could juggle oranges while doing a somersault?”

“Oh my god…”

“come on, I am an acrobat, after all.”

“Not the word I would use in this context-“ she rolled her eyes “I’m not baking with you! When Alfred finds out I let you in the kitchen despite my better judgement I’ll -“

“I’ll protect you from Alfred’s wrath” Dick laughed not letting her go. “you’re safe with me baby.”

“He will ban us from the kitchen forever! It’s the only person left in this household that believes I’m sane despite going out with you!”

“Which you are obviously not.” Dick laughed spinning her in his arms and looking at her with the puppy eyes. The expression he worked to perfection during the years. “come on, please… pleeeeaaaassssseeeeeee…….”

“Stop it Grayson! I’m serious… stop it” please stop it, before I give in to your five-year-old antics.     

“Pretty please. Come on, Y/N…. Just say yes.. .It’s gonna be fun I promise…”

 “It’s really not too late to buy the ballet tickets Dick…” she muttered, feeling her resistance breaking despite knowing well enough how the baking experience with Dick Grayson will end.

“That’s for another occasion.”

***

Two hours later, as predicted, kitchen looked like batterfield. Nut shells splattered everywhere, including Y/N’s hair, flour on her clothes that happened to not be covered by the apron and a sticky smudge of spice on her forehead made her similar to a gingerbread man (woman). While she was huffing and puffing making the dough, shaping cookies and decorating them, Dick just sit on the counter watching her with a loving eyes, making a mess and not helping at all. He didn’t even bother to open the over for her, at least not until she almost burned herself trying to balance the quite heavy baking tray in one hand. It was a miracle she survived this.

“couple bonding exercise, my ass.” She hissed, brushing her hair away with a wrist, fairly annoyed that she had to do  all the work.

“I definitely feel bound to you.” He smiled at her, jumping off the counter.

“you didn’t even move a finger-“ before she could finish he cut off her off with the kiss.

“can’t you be original, once?” she scoffed pulling back “cutting off with a kiss is just so predictable, man-like gesture.”

“Can’t blame me. You taste the sweetest.” Dick only laughed in response, wiping off the streak of honey which she was stained with in the corner of her mouth. “Better than the cookies.”

[hyog-blog]

The Story of Pearl Girl (ep. 16)

Okay, we have seriously entered the fluff zone here. So much so that I'm already bracing myself for what's going to come next XD Never ever believe a sweet romantic candy relationship period in a cdrama - as a rule, it will come and bite your bums hard later in the series.

But for now, I just can't with these two :3 I know that the transition from boss/subordinate to a romantic fling might be too fast, but I'm letting it slide just because they're sooooo sweet together. It's like drinking a marshmallow cocoa on a chilly autumn day, guys.

Yan Zijing is all smiley and lovey-dovey, Duan Wu can't look anywhere but at him. This is exactly what happens when you fall hard for someone (well, when it's mutual). I've watched the scene at the market a few times - it's just oozing cuteness.

Well, they have been through a lot together. Seeing your future hubby the man you really like all poisoned and chained inside a mine can do things to a girl. And she seems to be straightforward in everything she does, so Duan Wu told YZJ she'd be protecting him from now on XD Made him promise not to risk his life anymore. Actually, I love this girl-protecting-her-boo trope. Especially when it's Liu Yuning we're talking about, with his height and gorgeous looks XD

God bless Yan Zijin's makeup)) Magnetic eye-stare, while Duan Wu is realizing she doesn't want to see this man get hurt, not on her watch.

She goes for the hug. At this point, they both realize the feeling is mutual. It does feel natural tbh.

Yan Zijing gently hugs her back and presses to himself :3 Cuteness overload, hearts are flying everywhere, the audience goes totally ~awwwww

And then there's Kang Ju XD The embodiment of the whole fandom, just standing there and staring at them because he 'accidentally' entered the room (the door was open, ya know?)

After this, things went bonkers and now the whole team knows they're kinda sorta into each other and the two pf them even had a coming out as couple (yes, just like that). Makes me wonder about the 17 ep, and I'm gonna watch it now, so fearless I am XD

But to tell you the truth, it would be refreshing just to watch them grow closer and become a power couple in the second half of the show. Maybe have kids and grow old together. Is it just me wanting a full-on happy relationship show? XD I guess so, ah)))