#and now I have to reach out first when she didn’t even ask or look for me it’s been actually a long time since we last spoke

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[thesecondhandwoman]

you did my last ask so great I had to ask again. This time could you do a Grayson or Ambessa with a chronically ill reader. More so on the chronic pain side. Maybe they need mobile aids? Take your time, drink some water and take care of yourself

-����‍♂️

CHRONICALLY ILL

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Ambessa has always loved you, ever since the day you two had become so close. But once you slowly become more and more ill, you start to doubt that she would ever love such a burden.

Request: Anon 🤍

Noxus, with its towering spires and ever-burning forges, was a city of unyielding strength. It was a place where weakness was supposedly stamped out, where survival meant thriving against all odds. You had grown up in the shadow of that philosophy, and it had shaped you in ways you didn’t fully realize until your body began to betray you.

At first, it had been manageable—an ache here, a stiffness there. But as the years went on, the pain grew relentless. It wasn’t the kind of battle you could fight with a blade or conquer with brute force, and in Noxus, that was a struggle all its own.

Then there was Ambessa.

Your life as her assistant had started humbly, a position born out of necessity rather than ambition. You had worked tirelessly, managing her correspondence, organizing her campaigns, and ensuring her days flowed as seamlessly as possible. Ambessa had always been a figure larger than life—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding. But as time passed, she had seen through the masks you wore, glimpsing the pain you thought you’d hidden so well.

And instead of turning away, she stayed.

Now, as the warm glow of her private study illuminated the richly furnished room, you sat curled up in your favorite chair, a steaming cup of tea trembling slightly in your hands. Your cane rested against the chair’s arm, its polished wood worn smooth from years of use.

The pain was worse today, a deep, gnawing ache that radiated through your legs and up into your spine. Even the soft cushion beneath you felt unforgiving, and every shift of your weight sent new waves of discomfort rippling through your body. You tried to focus on the tea, on the way the steam curled into the air, but it was impossible to ignore the familiar throb of pain.

The sound of heavy boots against the stone floor made your heart jump. Ambessa entered the room with the confidence of someone who owned not just the space but the very air within it. Her gaze swept over you, sharp and assessing, and she frowned the moment her eyes met yours.

“How long have you been sitting there, little one?” Her voice was low, rich, and filled with a concern she never bothered to mask when it came to you.

You offered a tired smile, though it felt half-hearted at best. “Not too long,” you lied, knowing she wouldn’t believe you.

Ambessa crossed the room in a few long strides, her imposing presence somehow comforting rather than intimidating. She knelt before you, her strong hands resting on the arms of your chair as she studied your face.

“Do not lie to me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of command.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you carried. “A while,” you admitted. “It’s been one of those days.”

Her frown deepened, and she reached out to take the teacup from your trembling hands, setting it aside with care. Her calloused fingers found yours, enveloping them in a warmth that made your throat tighten.

“You should have called for me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you replied, looking away. “You’ve got armies to command, strategies to plan. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

Ambessa let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “And yet, here I am, worrying about you. What does that tell you?”

You didn’t answer, the guilt curling in your chest too heavy to put into words.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice softening. When you finally met her gaze, her amber eyes were filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You are not a burden, Y/N. You are not something I tolerate or endure. You are mine, and I will always care for you. Do you understand?”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded silently.

Ambessa rose smoothly to her full height, towering over you but somehow making you feel safe rather than small. She moved to sit on the armrest of your chair, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she pulled you against her side. The scent of steel and leather clung to her, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Tell me what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple.

“Just…stay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “It helps, having you here.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then here I’ll stay.”

The hours slipped by as Ambessa stayed true to her word. She didn’t so much as glance at the mountain of paperwork on her desk or the sealed missives waiting for her attention. Instead, she focused entirely on you.

When your pain became too much to sit upright, she helped you to the large, plush bed in the corner of the room. She adjusted the pillows with meticulous care, ensuring your legs were elevated just enough to ease the pressure.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her hand lingering on your knee as she knelt beside the bed.

“Getting there,” you said with a faint smile.

She nodded, standing to fetch a soft, fur-lined blanket from a nearby chair. Draping it over you, she tucked it around your sides with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who only knew her as the iron-fisted warlord of Noxus.

As you settled in, the pain began to ebb—not completely, but enough that you could breathe a little easier. Ambessa sat beside you, her hand resting on top of yours, her thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

“Tell me about the mountains again,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up her face. “Ah, the mountains. Strong, unyielding, and ancient. They remind me of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t feel very unyielding right now.”

Ambessa’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps not in this moment. But every day, you endure what would break most others. That is strength, my love. Strength I admire.”

Her words wrapped around you like a shield, deflecting the self-doubt that often lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, squeezing her hand weakly.

“Always,” she replied, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, your pain ebbed and flowed, but Ambessa remained at your side. She spoke of her travels, of the unyielding peaks of Noxus, and the people who called them home. Her voice was steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, lulling you into a fragile sense of peace.

When sleep finally claimed you, it was with the knowledge that no matter how relentless your battles became, Ambessa would always be there—your shield, your comfort, and the one person who made the fight worth it.

A/N: This is definitely not my best way of successfully fulfilling a response, but I hope it was alright! (I love requests like this)

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 12

It’s been 800 years and I’m sorry 😭 now that we reached this point inspo has come and gone so fast. But I got this part done and the next one on Patreon now! I would love to hear thoughts and suggestions, I’ve already implemented some of what you guys have asked for in my planned parts 🩷 enjoy! And happy holidays

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WC- 6.6k

Warnings- mentions of a Dom/sub dynamic, anxiety mention, misogyny, we hate Danny club tee shirts being passed around, tooth rotting fluff, mentions of relationship trauma

Danny hadn’t always been a bad boyfriend. 

At first he had been kind and sweet. With him being a tad bit more outgoing than Y/N, he had brought her into his friend group and integrated her as one of them. He had brought her flowers for their 6 month anniversary, they went on dates on the weekends twice a month, and it was nice. Solid, steady. 

Until he got a little too comfortable. 

Y/N could see it now that she had removed her heart from the equation. Danny was lazy, and it had shown more and more as the year mark hit, and then two years, and she had to remind him of Valentine’s Day, make the birthday plans, schedule the dates, or go along with the plans he’d made with his friends. He would get her gifts on those occasions, yes, but the most stereotypical things. It had lacked thought. Flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day were nice! She didn’t want to come across as ungrateful ever- but when he’d gotten her dark chocolate when he should have known she really disliked it, it made it a little less sweet- pun intended. 

If someone were to ask Y/N why she stayed so long,  she wouldn’t have one singular answer. Comfort? Familiarity? Routine? Perhaps lack of self esteem? She wasn’t sure. Being raised to think you had a specific way of doing things, of dating, engagement, then marriage, she hadn’t really been given many other examples. Growing up, her parents had been high school sweethearts, as had both of their parents. There was no breaking up, it was a one and done type of deal. 

She wasn’t sure if that was set in stone, though. It was an unspoken rule, something left unsaid like a thinly veiled threat in the night air. They spoke of the great love story of finding your one and only and it made her feel like she had to stick to that too. She’d never asked her mother about it, because she never really entertained the idea of having any other partner. 

It was easy with Danny in the way that she knew what to expect. She knew his habits, she knew his work, his schedule. She knew his friends, his plans for life, there were no surprises. Nothing that would jump back out and bite her, catch her off guard as he slowly leaned into being less attentive.&

Maybe that’s why even when she started having doubts she had stuck them to the back of her mind. 

There was no denying that Harry had been a very, very big part in all of it. The funny part of it was, she wasn’t sure that the sex bit was what truly got her to reconsider even if it had started it all. As incredible, euphoric as she felt- it was the way she felt afterwards. Before, even. When they sat in his bed and he stroked her cheek, feeding her cubes of cantaloupe or strawberries sliced in half, or when he’d picked up a carton of her yogurt and granola after mentioning what she usually had for breakfast at home. 

It was how gentle he handled her not only physically, but emotionally. He checked in, he cared, he asked her multiple times what she liked and what she didn’t. If it was okay to touch her certain ways, if he could kiss her. Just little things that seemed so minuscule in size if you looked at it from the outside but felt so big to her that it tore at her heart. 

He’d gotten her that damn water bottle, he’d gotten used to washing her hair when they shared showered, he used that tender tone of voice that had her bones feeling flexible as she melded into him each and every time. 

And another thing she had found to like about Harry, was the fact that he was just… dominant in most regards.

It wasn’t overly so. He wasn’t this complete alpha, macho man, fists banging on the chest sort of guy. He didn’t walk into the room and demand to be the biggest and baddest in the room. It was understated, quiet. If you looked at him you could just… see. Feel it. You could see he held it together well, that he liked control in the way he kept things organized and held eye contact regardless of who it was. He very rarely shied away from a situation. In fact, Y/N felt very special for being one of the only people she had seen make him blush or get flustered. 

It was second nature to him to just do. To pick up where she left off. So it did make her wonder what else she could do for him. How she could help him relieve stress. Yes, there was the sexual aspect that she was more than willing to hand over whenever he wanted (no exaggeration- any time, any place) but she wanted to be the person he allowed himself to loosen up with. 

She’d seen glimpses. Silliness and joking, that sort of tenderness that he didn’t seem to give to anyone else, but she wanted to make his life easier. Researching the dynamics between dominants and submissives, she had some questions- but the first thing she needed to do was cut off the dead weight- the only thing holding them back. 

—-

Meeting at the park was a good idea. She could tell by his face that he had a clue what was going to happen and as much as she tried not to, she did feel a tiny sliver of guilt. 

Y/N didn’t necessarily cheat, no. She’d had full permission, ecstatic permission, actually. He’d handed her over to Harry. Being realistic she knew he didn’t realize it would be an option that he wouldn’t get her back. Danny was headstrong in a way she found a lot of men were. He didn’t consider the possibility that she actually did know what she wanted and once she had a taste, she would want that for herself all the time.

“You’re leaving me for him.”

“Not necessarily.” She sighed, crossing her arms around her body. “It isn’t just about him. It’s about the fact that we aren’t compatible anymore, and we haven’t been in a long time.”

Danny scoffed, tilting his head towards the sky. “So, what? I’m nice? I let you go and see and play around to explore that shit and now you’ve gotten addicted to that sort of stuff? We can get you to therapy, because it isn’t healthy. But obviously it was a mistake to hand you off to him-“

“Yes. If you loved me, if you truly wanted me, Daniel- you’d never, ever want someone else to touch me.” She remembered how Harry had said he didn’t want to share her. Look, sure. But never touch. “You said the shit I’m into is weird, you shame me, then pawn me off to your friend which… it’s dangerous. The both of us are lucky Harry is genuinely an amazing guy-“ she shot him a look as he let out a noise but continued anyways. “Harry is amazing and kept me safe. He taught me the safe ways of doing things. And I liked it. I’m not going to lie to you, I really liked all of it and I know you aren’t into it.” For once, her face softened.

“And you don’t have to be. I don’t judge you for not wanting to do it. I never have. I was upset by your reactions and how you made me feel bad, but I would never ask you to do something you truly aren’t comfortable with. But if this is something I want, something I find myself needing to be fulfilled, I’m not going to try to change you or myself to try and salvage a relationship that was barely working anyways.”

“Barely working?” Danny looked genuinely confused. “The fuck are you talking about.” Again, her anger bubbled under the surface, but the exhaustion of the whole thing kept her from exploding. 

“Danny, you barely gave me attention. When you apologized the first time and we went out to the bar, you brushed me off the whole time. You treated me like an accessory. There was no passion to our relationship.” Y/N wasn’t sure how he didn’t see that. “We had the same conversations every day, barely had any excitement. I don’t think you loved me- I think I was convenient. And I don’t hold that against you either, but I think I was convenient to you.”

“That’s just how relationships are! They even out and get a little boring.” He defended, nostrils flaring as he was obviously offended with her observation. She had a feeling he would get that way. It was just another reason why they needed to end things. 

“To a degree. After years of marriage and things settle down, your partner is supposed to become your best friend. And we barely speak to each other if it isn’t about plans, or something you want to. If I feel like talking about something I can physically see you tune me out. This was happening far before you even handed me off to Harry.”

“And he’s going to give you that?” He sneered, looking at her like she was some sort of idiot. It had been very clear since the beginning that Danny really did put people into boxes, and Harry was in the sexual deviant one. He had no ability to see the depth in people and that had always been something that bothered her about him, but seeing it now towards someone she was falling for made her angry. 

“I don’t know.” She snapped. “But regardless if it is him or not, you need to stop that. You just… you learn something about someone and you completely disregard them as people. You knew he was into some different stuff and all of a sudden he’s a whore, some kind of sexual deviant that can’t commit. He’s had partners, long term. He’s caring. He’s kind. He listens to what I have to say. It isn’t just sex every time I go over to his place, you understand that right?” 

He didn’t, obviously, but the way his brows pulled together and he looked at her like he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Did you expect him to string me up and hit me with a paddle a few times and me to run back to you?” She was positive that was the thought process as it was as soon as she saw the face he made. “We bond. We make breakfast or go out for it, we watch shows, we take his dog on a walk- the dynamic of this whole thing goes far past just sex, Danny. It’s trust. I know you did minimal research into what this actually is, but I’m telling you that we weren’t just going at it like bunnies. I’m not hypnotized by his dick. He’s so nice to me, and he listens, and he….” Y/N could feel herself getting emotional, so she had to reign it in. He didn’t need this sort of response from her. 

“Listen. I’m sorry. I know we had plans, but they’re not for me anymore. I have no idea if Harry wants to actually date me or not. I have no clue where my life is going, but I just don’t see us being together anymore.”

——

It was a bit anticlimactic. Danny couldn’t really argue with her, (even if he did try a few times). Not when it was so abundantly clear her mind was made up. It was over. Regardless of what he thought about Harry or her sexual preferences or anything she liked, it was her opinion that mattered. She’d been coasting for so long that she had forgotten how it felt to actually be behind the wheel. As terrifying as it was to navigate- it felt good. 

“A mixed box, please.” Y/N politely asked the worker at the donut shop, knowing Harry was a bit of a fiend for a donut with his coffee. “An extra chocolate though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course! Half or whole dozen?” 

“Whole, please.” 

She checked her phone to see a text waiting from him, her mood lightening immediately as her eyes traced over the screen. 

H: You alright, sweetheart? Please text me when you’re on your way here x. 

H: p.s. I miss you a little. 

Her heart felt like it grew too big for her chest as she took a shaky inhale, thumbing over the keyboard to reply to the man. It had been ages since she had gotten giddy over a man texting her, Harry being the first one since she’d left school honestly. It wasn’t that she wanted to constantly compare her past relationship with him, but it was hard not to when everything felt so much better.

Y/N: hiiii ❤️ I’m good. I made a stop but as soon as I’m done here I’ll be on my way. Maybe 20? 

Y/N: p.s. I miss you a little bit too 

Tucking her phone back in her pocket, she thanked the girl and checked out at the register, tapping her card before taking the box and walking back out to her car. 

She was a single woman, now. Sort of? That was sort of a mystery. She was Harry’s. The fact was clear both in her heart and the bruises sucked over the swell of her breast, also coincidentally over her heart. The question laid in his hands, if they were an actual item or not. He’d proclaimed she was his what seemed to be a million times but how far did that go? 

It wasn’t like she was dumb- she knew there were feelings in both ends. Men didn’t act like that unless they were actually wanting you. She knew she wasn’t completely naive for feeling somewhat confident that Harry would want her, but it was the question of in what way. As a submissive? As a girlfriend? That question would be asked tonight, but right now she really just needed a hug. 

There was no need to knock anymore as she scales the porch steps and approached the door, instead punching in the code to his security system and pushing the door open. The clicking of nails alerted her to Buttons before she even saw the pup, eagerly running towards her with a happy yip. 

“Hello, my darling.” She cooed, hanging her purse up on the hook and toed her shoes off. “These are not for you, M’sorry. We can get you a treat though. Where’s daddy, hm?” 

“Kitchen!” He called through the house, making her smile widen. She could smell coffee, the dark roast permeating the air as she padded towards the room. It was one of the best times of day to be in the room, sunlight pouring through the wide windows. Even better to frame him as he leaned against the island, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. 

He was always beautiful, but seeing him in this light- literally and metaphorically- had her tummy swirling. His hair fluffy from the shower this morning and pushed off his head, the facial hair he had let grow because she said she liked it, the tee shirt tucked into linen pants, all of it was enticing. It felt more intense now that there was no real barrier holding her back from allowing her to think those sorts of things about him. 

“Excuse me, miss? What’s in that box?” His voice tilted as his smile grew, looking at the familiar pink box. 

“You know what’s in the box.” She hummed, placing it down next to him. “It’s where I stopped. I’m sorry to say I broke into them and ate a chocolate one on the drive here, but there’s 11 others in there for you to choose from.” 

“How will I ever forgive you.” His eyes rolled as he uncrossed his arms and pulled her into them, seeming to know what she needed before she could even utter a word about it. He knew what she went to do and while it was exciting, he knew she had been slightly anxious about the reaction. “You alright, darling? Seriously?” 

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was being in the safety of his arms and realizing that he was the only one she felt this safe with, if it was the slight exhaustion from not being able to sleep well, or the emotion of letting go of something that had once felt like her life, but she felt the wall hit her. Nodding into his chest, she stayed buried there as the tears bubbled over her lashline. 

“Oh, Angel. M’sorry. That’s a dumb question.”’he sighed, curling his hand around the back of her head and gently running his fingers through her hair. “I know. S’been a lot, the last few weeks. But you’re safe here, yeah? We don’t have to talk about it, or we can. It’s up to you.”

She knew he did want to. He wouldn’t press her because he was a good man and he was considerate of her feelings, but he wanted to know what happened and considering the entirety of this, she wanted to. It just… needed to be in a minute. Arms wrapped around his form as she took in unsteady breaths, trying to calm herself down. It was easier said than done when he felt like the lifeline now, but she didn’t want to cry over it. 

“We can.” She gave a watery laugh as she turned her cheek to rest on him, letting herself breathe properly instead of keeping herself shoved against his body. “I’m not upset because we broke up. I-I don’t really care about that, actually. I’m glad. He didn’t take it well but he also didn’t throw a tantrum. It just upset me because I was seeing him for one of the first times as who he was instead of m-making excuses and I felt a little dumb for staying for so long.” It was embarrassing.

Harry knew she wasn’t done so he didn’t interrupt, continuing the soothing strokes as she stayed leaning against him. “He puts people in boxes. Like he… he thought you were one dimensional and so was I. Thought that I didn’t actually know what I w-wanted, and that we were just fucking this whole time. Couldn’t believe that we were actually bonding and that you could possibly like me, or vice versa, outside a bedroom.” Her scoff made him chuckle just a bit, leaning his head down to kiss the top of hers, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. 

“And it really hit me how he couldn’t fathom that you have feelings that go past sexual deviancy or that I actually know what I want and I wasn’t just addicted to sex or something. Did you know he used to get me chocolates for Valentine’s Day but he’d get dark, and I hate dark chocolate.” She sniffled. “Or he’d make me plan stuff because I was ‘better’ at it. I just felt in charge of everything except plans with his friends, unless it had to do with getting a gift for a wedding or baby shower or birthday. Then I could handle it because… I don’t know. I was leading the whole thing and I wasn’t getting anything in return and I’m just now realizing how shitty I felt the whole time. I think I just coasted the whole time b-because my family did the whole high school or college sweetheart things and I felt like I needed to, too.”

It made a lot of sense to him, now, why she felt she needed this. The dynamic. Naturally submissive, he knew, but being forced to take the role that she didn’t want for the sake of a relationship she was trying to keep afloat merely because she felt a responsibility? His poor fucking girl. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I know it isn’t exactly the sort of thing you want to hear and it won’t make it better, but I’m sorry. It hurt you, it made you feel under appreciated and taken for granted. You didn’t deserve any of that.” 

It wouldn’t make a difference now but he wished he had met her first. Met her before Danny had gotten to her and been able to snatch her up, give her the sort of attention she properly needed, take care of her the way she had always been craving. For someone who didn’t naturally have that sort of instinct he had to imagine it was exhausting. Harry took pride in being the planner, the provider. He liked being in charge and knowing what was happening, making things easy and smooth. But for Y/N who already didn’t want to be doing it, he knew it had to have felt like she was trapped. 

“M’never going to make you do those things.” He murmured. “Not if you don’t want to. I don’t… it isn’t something that I’d ever want you to do if you didn’t want to. There is no right or wrong way to have a relationship, but the burden shouldn’t fall on only one person if they don’t want it to.” He smeared his lips in a ring of kisses around her hairline. “I know you don’t need me t’tell you that how you were treated wasn’t right, but I hope you know that you can tell me if you ever feel that way. If you… if you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to.” There was a pause. “When we’re not playing.” 

“I was gonna hold you to that.” She laughed against him, pulling her head back to look at him. “So, um.. I didn’t want to assume anything, but I’m gonna now and think that you want to.. that you like me enough to keep me around?”

Harry looked at her for a few moments before shutting his eyes, dropping his head to rest on hers. “If I hadn’t made it clear before, I think M’gonna make it even clearer now.” 

Y/N didn’t have a chance to breathe before he scooped her up to sit her in the counter, their lips fused together in a kiss she hadn’t fully felt before. Something he had held back, it lingered under it all as she easily melted into him.  It felt different, like a barrier had fallen off with the way he handled her. It was still delicate, still tender, but there was no hint of hesitancy in the way he led the kisses, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks as he cupped her face in those massive hands she loved so much. Unhurried, unrestrained but no sense of urgency. 

Like he knew now he didn’t have to rush, that he had more time to prove to her that he meant every unspoken word he poured into this. 

The slight salt of her tears reminded him to pull back, to pace himself. Oddly enough, he had no urge to have sex right now. Everything was soft. Silky. Lovelaced and sweet, hinted with the motivation to give her the relationship that she deserved. It meant he’d have to ask her what she would want, but right now he just wanted to bask in the feeling of her in his palms and the warm sun and sugary donuts in the box and the strong coffee finishing its brew across the kitchen. 

“Hi.” He smiled lightly as he pulled back, eyes hooded as he watched hers peel open to meet his own. Her lips were bare of anything but chapstick he had faint taste of- strawberry, he was positive of it- and slightly puffy from the kiss that had gone on for a bit longer than they should have been able to breathe. 

“Hi.” Her voice was a peep as the shyness took over her face, but Harry didn’t let her move from it. As much as she wanted to burrow back into his chest, he kept her chin up. The energy was palpable, giddiness rocking his belly as he tugged her lip from her teeth. No biting of lips near him, not right now. Even if it was cute. 

There was a lot to speak about in regards to them as a pairing, but he wanted to soak in this warmth for a bit before getting down to the gritty bit of it. The girl had brought him his favorite sweets, and he wanted to enjoy them with her.

“Do you want some coffee?” 

“Tea, please.” 

—

Harry hadn’t been positive Y/N would go through with it. 

That wasn’t a fault or doubt of her person, not at all. But he knew that she really didn’t like hurting people. That much had been something he’d learned very early on in knowing her. She had been mindful of Danny’s feelings the whole time, trying not to flaunt any of it in his face and not giving details unless he asked- which he hardly did. 

They’d not really gotten any sort of response about what they’d done in front of him but Harry knew he wasn’t going to say anything about it because he would be too ashamed to admit it. He wasn’t shocked, though, when he got text messages during the day while Y/N slept soundly on his lap while watching a movie as Harry worked on his phone. She never could stay awake when the movie turned on and he played with her hair. One hand had been gently massaging her scalp while the other typed on his screen when the message popped up on his screen. 

D: I don’t know what the fuck you did to her but I hope you’re happy. I trusted you with her, man. And you fucking stole her. She was mine. That shit you’re into is disgusting and you’ve brainwashed her or something, it’s fucked up. 

Harry almost laughed at the message until he remembered what Y/N had been so upset about. The fact she hadn’t been seen as a person with her own emotions and feelings during the duration of the relationship had hit her. It may have started out good but it ended badly when she realized that he didn’t think she could choose what she liked. This was a prime example of it. 

HS: I get being upset, but I didn’t steal her. She isn’t property. She’s capable of making her own decisions and you texting me something like that proves you don’t trust her judgment yet again. I’ll do my best to make her happy, I care about her more than you can fathom. 

HS: I won’t be by any group gatherings, so don’t worry about that. Bye. 

Harry muted the conversation. 

It really wasn’t something he needed to talk to about with him anymore. He wasn’t sorry, he didn’t regret anything, he didn’t think what they did was fucked up. He could go back and forth about how Danny had been the one to hand over his girlfriend and push her right into Harry’s arms but at what cost? Why would he bother? 

She was curled in his lap, head on his thighs with soft breaths puffing against his shirt. Buttons laid at his dog bed near the fireplace and he felt that happiness bubble up in his stomach again. This was what he wanted. 

The dominant and submissive dynamic was something he loved and he enjoyed, absolutely. But the base level of his desires was wanting a real relationship with this before all the rest of it fell into place. Happiness at the most base level, trust, peace. Finding the delicate balance. 

His eyes traced over her features as his mind wandered a bit. Was a full dynamic what she wanted? Was she looking for commitment right off the bat? Or did she need a little breathing room? 

That didn’t seem as likely considering how she’d come right back home to him. 

The knowledge that she didn’t have anything holding her back was something that pleased him endlessly. He didn’t have to worry about stepping on toes. While they hadn’t expressed out loud that they wanted to be in a full and committed relationship, he knew she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be. 

If he was honest with himself, he knew that an emotional affair had played a part in it. The both of them had been feeling things for each other for a bit, at least for him it had been a while. Y/N had poured her trust into him and he had taken that very seriously. He’d done his best to keep himself in check but now he really didn’t have to. 

It was astounding how fast emotions could form, how feelings could grow from a seedling planted in the pit of his belly to a full bloom that burst through his chest. She’d made a garden inside of him and he wanted her to see just how beautiful it could be, if she gave him the chance. A real one. 

Harry the dominant was one part of him but it wasn’t the whole part. He was a fully fleshed out human with faults. He was picky about keeping his house clean, he could be a bit pushy sometimes, he tended to isolate when he was upset about something. There was hints of insecurity and possessiveness in his personality, jealousy. God, he was a pathetically jealous person even if he tried to keep it under wraps. These were things she hadn’t exactly gotten to see, even if there were glimpses here and there. The underlying anxiety was there and prevalent that maybe she’d see those parts and not like him as much. 

The reminder that Y/N wasn’t that cruel circled back around and called him some, smiling as he felt her stir and scoot closer to him. Her nose nuzzled into his stomach, slow breathing evening out as she got comfortable again pressed up against him. The reminder that she also had faults that he hadn’t exactly seen yet was a comfort. He doubted that anything would truly scare him away, though. The obsession was already in place. 

“M’gonna do my best.” He whispered quietly, letting the back of his hand brush her warm cheek as she snoozed, unaware of his tender words under his breath. Unaware that it felt like he was holding the world in the palm of his hand now, and it was slightly terrifying as he tried to ensure he wouldn’t break it. “Gonna take care of you, sweet girl. Promise.” 

——

Their dinner was quiet. Harry had put on jazz music that was understated beneath their talking, the food was good, but there was no denying that they both knew a conversation laid ahead that would be a defining factor. 

As much as Harry tried to be calm about it, he was slightly nervous. Y/N looked slightly anxious and he tried to keep his shoulders relaxed but it was hard to when he was unsure what part she was anxious about. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. 

“I’m over Danny.” She blurted out. The dam had splintered and she felt like she couldn’t keep it back anymore. “I think I was over him for a long time. if he was in love with me, he would have never sent me to fuck around with someone else. If I was truly in love with him, I wouldn’t have agreed. I wouldn’t have been so eager to come and see you. It has been bothering me for a bit thinking maybe I was a bad person for wanting to move on so quickly but I think I had accepted subconsciously that it had been over for so long that it made it easier for me to feel almost single when I was around you.” Taking a gulp of air, she continued. To his credit Harry didn’t interrupt, merely folded his hands on the table and looked intently at her. 

“The last thing I want you to consider yourself is a rebound, though. I’ve been torn because… while I know I like you a lot, and I do- I really do like you,” she paused to give him a nervous smile. “I wanted to make sure that you understand that I never saw you as someone to move on with when I wasn’t distracted by him in the first place. Every single time we were together I forgot about him. As cruel as it sounds… maybe the first time I had thought about how much better it was and how this was what I was missing, that I knew he’d never be capable of the things I wanted- but being with you was never about him for me.”

Y/N knew she was a flawed individual and it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t morally right to most people and she understood that. But this had felt like a natural turn of events for her.

“You’ve been at the forefront of my mind since we first met up at the coffee shop. I always thought you were slightly intimidating and very handsome, very kind- but once I had the go ahead to think of you as more, it never stopped. It only grew.” Her eyes dropped to her mostly finished plate as she took a deeper breath. It felt like an avalanche of words were trying to come out, all the things she had held back coming out now that she felt safe enough to. 

“I thought at first it really was a favor to him, that you were doing this because you were a good friend. But I… I’d like to think I have good enough senses to know that you enjoyed it too. You paid me more attention than anyone else ever has. From the texting to check in and remembering things I said off hand, to getting me things that are so unique to me and our conversations… it blew me away.” Her fingers fiddled with the napkin before she braved his eyes again. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I… I really would like to try. With you. The um, the dominant stuff too, but… more? If that's something you’d want.” 

“It is.” There was no hesitation in his answer, knowing she was losing steam in her rant. “It’s what I’ve wanted for a while. I tried very hard to be respectful at first, you know…” he swallowed, trying to find the words. “I wanted to be respectful because of you. I didn’t want to get out of turn. And then… I started to care less about it when I saw how little he cared about your relationship himself. I didn’t take the favor on directly because he asked me.” This was a revelation, just a bit. “I took it on because I knew you, I knew the… I know how it is wanting to try something and feeling like you’ve got no options. I also know how dangerous it could be with the wrong hands on you. And I cared for you, back then more so as a friend but I cared and didn’t want you to have a bad experience. I wanted it to be safe and pleasure filled and selfishly, I was attracted to you as it was.” 

He may have fooled himself into thinking it was for Danny but he knew deep down why he had done it. 

“I think that you took me by surprise. How well we worked together from day one. It felt like… you were made for me. Y’know?”

“Yeah.” She peeped. “I felt the same.”

The small smile on his lips was a reward for her, the table being a good divider for now. If it wasn’t there he knew he would be distracted by wanting to touch her. “Good. I was taken back by it and I wanted more n’more, I got selfish and greedy for a bit. I broke a little, having you in the cafe bathroom. Doin’ that, it was selfish for me. For us. There wasn’t anything pre planned and I knew by how you reacted I wasn’t exactly alone in the want to do more but I didn’t want to make you feel guilty, so I kept it back for a bit.”

It had been so difficult not to beg for me. Ask her to come over during the week when he felt especially lonely. Even just to have her sit in his bed and leave her scent all over the sheets or hear her padding around while he worked. That was the domesticity that he wanted. “It’s been more than sex for me for a while. I know the dynamic is more than that too, but I found myself wanting you around more. Wanting to do more things with you than what we were supposed to do. When we went out the first time together, had me all sort of nervous in the good way and I realized I was getting myself into something that could be really good, or really bad.” His heart had been on the line the whole time. 

“Listen.” Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together again as he had her eyes. “I want t’be with you too. I want more. I want… the fun side where we play and go to the club, all of that. But I want more, too. The dinners and having you in my bed, without fucking. The softer things. I know that in the past you mentioned you had to control everything in your last relationship and I wanted to warn you that m’not like that- I like control in all areas of my life. It’s one of those things I’ve tried to work on a bit. Not necessarily of you in the traditional sense but… I like t’plan the dates. I like to feel needed, don’t mind bein’ the one to take care of you as long as you save that softness for me. Jus’ like you loving on me and being that sweet girl that you’ve shown me so far, and it’ll make me happy.” His hands itched to grab her. “Does that sound like something you can deal with.”

“It sounds like it’s perfect.” A shaky laugh left her as she felt slightly like she was dreaming. “I want to know more about how I can give back to you if you’re doing all the controlling but I… I really like that idea. I don’t mind you being the one to do all those things.” His version was exactly what she wanted. 

“Good.” The sigh of relief was enough to relax his shoulders. “Now c’mon over here. You’ve been far away from me for far too long.”

Y/N scrambled up and rounded the table, a shy smile lighting up her face as she sat in his lap and giggled in surprise as his mouth met hers, eager and languid as his large hand held her hip. She felt safe. Giddy. Warm. She could get used to this. 

[covenofagatha]

I went to a new doctor today for the first time... And the (very hot) doctor said "good girl" under her breath when I followed her instructions during part of the physical exam and I nearly died. Is that anything? Doctor!Agatha? Also not sure if I can ever show my face at that doctor's office again.

Good luck the next time you go lol

Hands-on care

You and your boyfriend want to have a baby so you go see Doctor Agatha Harkness at her fertility clinic

Word count: 2500

Warnings: sex, fingering, oral, Agatha is very unethical, cheating, degradation, praise

The decision to have a baby with your boyfriend Matthew was a decision that you made on sort of an impulse. 

You’ve been dating for three years now, after he begged you to go out with him for all of college, and you’ve always wanted a baby. 

You two had talked about it, going back and forth about what that would look like, if you would get married, if you two look to buy a house instead of your one bedroom apartment. 

Matt kept saying the fact that you both couldn’t decide on the little things like that, then it meant you weren’t ready for a baby. So you had put off further discussion about it until one night, you got really drunk. 

Four shots of vodka and no food had you on a different planet, and you had apparently told Matt that you wanted him to put a baby in you that night. 

He didn’t, because you were hammered, but it opened up the door to a heavy conversation the next day and you both decided that you wanted to start trying. 

The Harkness Fertility Clinic seemed like the obvious choice of where to check your fertility and get options, just to make sure nothing was wrong. Everyone in town knew Doctor Agatha Harkness and her extraordinary work when it came to all things pregnancy.

So you booked an appointment and here you are now, staring into space while fiddling with the edge of the hospital gown that the nurse practitioner gave you to put on while you wait for the doctor. 

“You alright?” Matt asks quietly, his brows crinkled. You told him that you would be fine if he didn’t want to come, in case there was bad news, but he insisted. 

You nod and drop the gown. “Just a bit nervous,” you say and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. 

And then there’s a knock on the door and Doctor Harkness walks in, wearing blood-red scrubs and her dark hair tied into a neat bun. 

You didn’t realize how attractive she would be. 

“Hello, how are we today?” She picks up the clipboard from the table next to you and scans it. “It looks like you’re here for a standard fertility check. That will be quick and easy and we’ll have those results in no time.”

It’s hard to breathe with her blue eyes burning through you, but you manage to smile. “Okay, great, we just want to make sure that we won’t have any problems or anything.” Can she tell how hot your cheeks feel? 

She smiles back at you. Hasn’t even looked at Matt yet. “Well, we’re here to make that happen for you.” She launches into an explanation of how the test will happen, something with a speculum, but you are too busy staring at her to fully listen. “Do you have any questions?”

It takes you a moment to realize she’s done talking. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. Thank you,” you stammer and she smirks knowingly.

“Thank you,” Matt says again, causing Agatha to look at him for the first time. Her lips curl and she turns to him with a rather unpleasant look.

“Husband? Why don’t you wait outside while we do this.” It’s not a question, and he blinks at her. He glances at you, like he’s expecting you to tell him to stay, but all you do is shrug. Better to let Agatha do her thing however she wants.

He sighs and kisses your forehead. "I'll be right out there," he vows and you give him a tight smile.

She moves close to you, perches on the side of the recliner you’re sitting on and reaches her hand toward you. You instinctively flinch but relax when all she does is tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. It’s incredibly gentle.

Agatha then trails her hand down the side of your face and grabs your chin, perhaps a little roughly. You let out a gasp that she seems to enjoy too much, and she strokes a finger over your lips. It’s all you can do to not take her thumb into your mouth and suck, and judging by the delighted look on her face, she sees how hard you’re restraining.

It’s so inappropriate. It’s so hot.

“I’ll put a baby in you,” she whispers. Your heart skips a beat. You know she just means fertility-wise you’ll have a baby, but the way she says it makes you wish she was capable of that. “Lie back.” She taps your shoulder and moves to situate herself on a chair by your legs. You spread them hesitantly and put them in the stirrups, knowing your underwear is already wet, just from being this close to her.

The chair rolls to the end of the cot so she's in between your legs now. You turn red again when her eyes drop to you, and she gets a look at what you’re sure is now soaked-through white cotton. Your stomach flutters when she bites her lip, and she meets your gaze with heavy lids.

“Oh, darling,” she says quietly, and you feel her hands moving up your inner thighs and a finger traces up your slit. You can hear the mocking tone in her voice but your hips buck ever so slightly. “I don’t think I’ll need to lube up the speculum with how wet you are.” It’s so wrong and she says it so casually and you didn’t think it was possible to get wetter. But you do, and you know she can tell.

“I’m sorry–” you try to stutter, the humiliation only making the fire inside your stomach grow.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I’m flattered, really,” she purrs. You wonder if this happens to her a lot; you definitely wouldn’t be surprised. But surely she wouldn’t still be in business if she flirted with all the patients.

She takes hold of your underwear and drags the pair down your legs, helping your feet out of the stirrups one at a time so she can slip them off. She chuckles and you blush harder than you ever have.

Fuck.

How are you going to survive this?

“Alright, are you ready?” You feel her press the cold speculum against your entrance and you hiss.

“Yes,” you squeak. Back to business. She is a doctor, she is Agatha Harkness. She is a tease, but that is all. You need to calm down.

She eases an inch of the speculum in and you grimace. The stretch burns. It would seem that you are not wet enough.

Agatha holds it still to give you time to adjust. “Relax. You need to relax,” she tells you.

“Easier said than done,” you joke with another wince. And then you feel her finger swipe your clit and you clench around the speculum with a spasm. Just a coincidence? 

“Is your husband not doing anything for you at all? Is his dick really that small? I think I might have to stretch you out first,” she remarks like she’s talking about the weather. You’re not exactly sure what she means but your stomach twists. The speculum is removed and placed on the table next to you. She pulls her gloves off.

“He’s not my husband,” is the only thing you have the effort to correct when she slides her middle finger into you. You let out a shaky breath. Agatha bites her lip, eyes dark.

She slowly thrusts into you, her thumb rubbing your clit every once in a while. You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this good and she’s barely doing anything. She pushes another finger in and you moan loudly.

“Better quiet down so he doesn’t hear. Not like he’d know what these sounds are,” she muses, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’re so close, just from her moving her two fingers inside you slowly.

“Please.” It’s all you can say.

You whine pathetically when her fingers pull out and she sits back, hair mussed, a crazed look on her face. She sucks her finger into her mouth, she moans softly, and you almost cum right there at the sight. 

“You’re so deliciously perfect,” she tells you, and grins while you clench around nothing at the praise.

“Please,” you beg again. “I’m so close, I need you.”

“What do you need?” 

You've never been one to voice your thoughts, especially in bed, but Agatha has a way of pulling it out of you. “Please, I need you so badly. Please make me cum. I need you.” You realize maybe being vocal wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to do every once in a while, if it’s going to lead to her leaning down and dragging her tongue up your slit, flicking it against your clit. You gasp and your hands tangle themselves in the loose hair from her bun immediately to keep her there.

You can feel her chuckle against you and the echoes only increase your pleasure. Two fingers enter you again, but this time, she curls them fast, and the palm of her hand hits your clit with every thrust. She mouths at your inner thigh before biting and sucking. Marking you. You throb at the thought of the red marks that will litter your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan.

You won’t be able to be naked in front of Matt for a long time.

“God, you’re such a perfect little slut, dripping all over this chair for me,” Agatha comments. “I bet you were wet the moment I walked in. Wanting me to taste you. Wanting me to fuck you like the whore you are.”

You should feel ashamed of how nothing she said was wrong, but you couldn't care less. Part of you is wondering if this is standard protocol for all the women who have trouble with the speculum, or if it’s just you. 

“Dr. Harkness,” you moan and gently tug on her hair. You shouldn’t really be concerned with professionality at this point, what with her head buried between your legs and her fingers inside you and everything, but the title and the hair pull seem to have quite the effect on her. She groans into you and then the real fucking begins.

Her fingers thrust ruthlessly inside you and her tongue thrashes against your clit and you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Dr. Harkness, fuck, please, need more, need you,” you babble, feeling yourself steadily approaching the edge. 

She pauses for a moment to fit a third finger inside you. The stretch is a little uncomfortable and she gives you a second to adjust, and then she’s back to it.

You come with a moan and it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had by far. From the look on her face when she sits back, finally done fucking you through your climax, she knows it.

Her lips glisten with your wetness, but she makes no move to clean them.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re cumming all over my exam chair,” she says, and it takes all of your energy to not laugh at the absurdity of the statement. What did you just do? “Do you think you’re ready for the speculum?”

You’ve completely forgotten why you’re here, but you nod, and she is gentle when she pushes the cold metal in you for a second time. You’re a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it slides in much easier this time. Your walls flutter around it and you almost moan.

"Good girl," she says in a deep voice.

Before you can tell yourself how wrong it is, you hope that next time she uses a strap-on. Next time? No, there can’t be a next time. You know she would make it feel really good though. She fucked you better with her fingers than Matt has in his entire life, so imagine what she could do with a toy cock.

But Agatha meets your eyes and winks and you can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

She tuts with a hint of a smirk, and you flush red again. You know this won’t be the last time the two of you do this, and there isn’t a single part of you that’s upset about it. 

The rest of the check runs quickly and smoothly, and she goes outside to tell Matt he can come back in. 

You’re worried he can smell the stench of sex in the air or that he will notice the slight sheen around Agatha’s mouth and her mussed-up hair, but if he does, there’s no indication.

Figures.

“Your uterus is extraordinary, perfectly shaped for a baby,” Agatha says, voice dripping with sweet venom, pointing to the pictures to show you what she means. “There should be no problems, but you might want to come in here regularly just in case.” Her hand falls to your upper thigh and squeezes. She watches you bite your lip with a smirk.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you agree, and Matt hums. “Thank you so much for your help, it was so great meeting you. 

“Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” Agatha says smugly, dragging her hand slowly against her mouth, breathing your scent in. You choke on nothing. 

Matt turns toward you, the happiness evident on his face. “We’re going to have a baby!” He exclaims and you wish you felt just a little bit guilty about what you just did. 

“Alright. Well, I’ll let you get dressed and then I’ll see you next time. Have a wonderful day.” Agatha gives you one last wink and leaves. You and Matt quickly pack your things and you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the gown that smells like sex on the chair. There’s going to need to be some serious sanitation of this room.

Matt is clearly ecstatic about the good news, but you’re honestly dreading the thought of having sex with him after that. Plus you have those marks on your thighs. You inwardly curse Agatha and you make a mental note to try and get some concealer or something to hide it. You’re not sure how well you’ll be able to put off sleeping with your boyfriend, especially not now. 

As you’re walking towards the sliding front doors of the building, you hear your name called. It’s Dr. Harkness, standing on the stairwell that overlooks the lobby. Her bun is fixed now, not a hair out of place, and the wetness around her chin has been wiped off. But there’s no denying the dark look in her eyes.

She gives you a wave. “We’ll have that baby in you in no time.” 

You have no doubt. 

[itsthecline]

WONDERING WHY

0.1 BOYFRIEND

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary omit ( verb. ) to leave out or exclude someone / something , either intentionally or forgetfully

word count 4k

warnings our girl is lowkey a brat but i think that’s it other than christian!reader , kook!reader , classism , and allusions to a bad previous relationship

previous chapter

a/n i ended up writing a bunch for this series already , and so here’s the first actual chapter relatively quick after the prologue post:)

THURSDAY MORNINGS usually meant you could sleep in a little later— closer to nine than eight. today , however , you were up at six to get ready for your packed day. you texted jj , reminding him to be here at ten o’clock sharp. no later.

you filled your morning with a jog around the neighborhood , helping your mother make breakfast , and dropping your younger sister off at her friend’s house for a girls day they were having. after that , you had to— for your own sake , go over the checklist of meetings and dinners that you needed to attend before midsummers one more time.

by the time 9:30 rolled around , you were dressed and ready to go down to the tailor for your first fitting. you checked your phone again , seeing if jj had even read your text yet. delivered. maybe he didn’t have his read receipts on.

he’d be here. he’d show up.

that was all you could really tell yourself.

on the other side of the island , jj was just waking up. he jolted awake , face indented from the way he fell asleep on the pillows the night before. he reached over for his phone , looking to see what time it was.

the screen didn’t light up. he quickly shuffled , hand fumbling down the charger cord to see it had been unplugged from the wall. “fuck!” he cursed , shoving himself up from the bed and rushing down the stairs.

“yo , what time is it?” he shouted , hoping one of his many friends would answer him. they all looked over their shoulders from the living room , seeing the blonde stumble around , yanking his clothes and boots on.

“its like quarter to ten,” pope called back out , looking down at his watch.

“fuckkkk!” jj groaned , grabbing the keys to the van, “i’m late! takin’ the twinkie!” he announced , shoving through the front door and bounding down the porch steps. he didn’t even bother to close the door on the way out , instead just hopping behind the van’s wheel and peeling off to figure eight.

kie came around the corner , a couple of water bottles for her friends. “what was that about?” she hummed , looking out the open door.

“he has that thing with the pastor’s kid,” john b answered with a smug smile , grabbing the bottle being held out to him, “he told us ‘bout it yesterday , remember?”

“ohhh , yeah!” kie mused , mind replaying yesterday’s events at the wreck, “she’s cute.”

“she’s also way too polite for jj,” sarah laughed , stealing the water from her husband, “i mean , i remember her from school , and she was just so shy. kept to herself and all that.”

pope shook his head , swallowing down more of his cereal, “nah , they used to be friends way back when though.”

“what?” the girls all gasped.

“rude boy was friends with that shy thing from kie’s parents’ place?” cleo asked , only just ‘meeting’ you yesterday but still as invested.

pope and john b nodded together , recalling a time before high school when jj would skip out on their hangouts to do something with you. ‘family friend , guys. i feel bad,’ he’d lie to them , getting out of whatever they had planned to spend time with you instead.

the group continued theorizing what jj was helping you with , not getting the complete story from him the day before. all the while he was speeding across the island to get to your door before it was ten o’clock. his blue eyes kept darting to the dashboard’s clock , seeing his time run out faster and faster. 9:57 , and he was just now getting to figure eight.

“mom , if jj shows up , will you tell him i’m sick?” you asked quietly , walking into the kitchen where she was working on her laptop.

she peered up at you over her glasses. “jj maybank , your boyfriend?” she smiled , patting for you to sit next to her in the breakfast nook as she was still over the moon from your news earlier in the week, “what’s he coming over to do?”

“he’s not invited anymore,” you corrected her , resting your chin on her shoulder as you looked at her computer screen. it was a spreadsheet , an itinerary for the next weeks approaching midsummers. “he’s late , so i’m upset.”

“well , you can’t blame him , hon,” your mother cooed at you, “he’s probably on the way. give him more than two minutes.” you held back from rolling your eyes at her soft spot for the boy after all of these years. after all of the tears she wiped away from your cheeks when you were fourteen.

“will you tell him i’m sick?” you pleaded again , pulling at the sleeves of her robe like a little kid.

she pressed a kiss to your forehead and tutted at you. “no , baby. we don’t lie in this house,” she answered , going back to typing and organizing on her laptop.

you huffed and pushed yourself out of the booth , straighten out your skirt. “fine , but i’m not happy about this,” you whined , beginning to walk out of the kitchen.

her voice called out your name again as she leaned forward to catch a glimpse of you. you stopped , turning to face her expectantly. “i think it’s a good thing you chose to give him a second chance.”

“yeah,” you sighed , guilt boiling in your gut , ignoring her knowing smile before walking to the front door. you’d just have to go to the fitting by yourself.

as you stepped outside , you could hear the rattle of a car nearing you from the street. it was loud enough to get your attention , telling you whoever was driving was going far too fast for the residential area. next thing you know , the beat up van you knew as john b’s twinkie was pulling into your driveway.

your hand raised above your sight line , blocking the sun so you could glare at jj. “didn’t get my twelve texts?” you asked him , watching as he practically fell out of the van upon his arrival which caused your embarrassment from the amount of times you tried contacting him to simmer.

“i’m sorry! my phone never got plugged in , s’my alarm didn’t go off. the damn twinkie gave out a couple blocks away , and i had to start ‘er back up—“ jj huffed out before you decided to just get in your car. he watched you , already feeling your disappointment.

you rolled down the passenger window , leaning over. “get in , please? we’re late,” you spoke , like you had already forgiven him , which you had. you saw how he was out of breath and the fresh grease stains on his fingers. it wasn’t his fault he was late.

jj ripped the door open , flopping into the passenger seat before buckling up. “where we headed , angel?” he asked you , already poking around in the car’s abundance of compartments.

“the tailor. we have to get you measured for your tux,” you simply answered , backing out of your driveway, “and i have to get re-measured too.”

jj nodded , chewing at his lip , and he couldn’t help but feel like you were giving him the cold shoulder. he was only eight minutes late. but maybe he just didn’t know you anymore. you spoke so much differently than you did from when you were kids , your voice clearer , more affirming. it sounded more like this was a business deal than an old friend doing an old friend a favor.

“it’s kinda like you’re my sugar momma for the next couple’a weeks,” jj chuckled to lighten to mood as you drive through the town’s center , eyeing all of the nice shops he never went to. it’s not like he wanted , but it was another reminder how differently you two grew up from each other.

you scoffed over your small laugh. “i guess so. in a weird way , yeah,” you agreed lightly , finding a parking spot right in front of the business you were going to, “just make sure to use your manners , please. katherine is friends with my dad and a huge gossip.”

“oh , yes , ma’am,” jj saluted you, “i will be prim and proper just for you , m’lady.” he got out of the car as you let out a shaky breath. you followed shortly after , seeing he was already holding the door open. “c’mon , you said we’re in a rush!”

you nudged him with your elbow when you stepped inside the small store. “i only said that so you’d hurry up. we don’t even have an appointment,” you admitted with a chuckle , picking up a pen at the front desk to sign in.

jj’s jaw dropped , letting out a gasp. “miss goodie-two-shoes lied?” he whisper yelled , hand coming to his heart, “is the world ending?”

“hush up,” you bit back , moving about the store as he followed you around like a lost puppy. he wasn’t about to go snooping around figure eight. he didn’t want to deal with it any more than he’d already agreed to.

“y/n! ah , so wonderful to see you , honey!” katherine’s shrill voice echoed through the building as she rushed to the front with her hands high and wide. you barely had time to smile back at her before she yanked you in for a hug. “you know , i’ve been waiting for your behind to get in here for your measurements for weeks!” she cried , guiding you to the back , not even sparing your blonde companion a second glance. you did though , catching jj standing there awkwardly in the front of the store.

“katherine , this is jj,” you interrupted her chatter , stopping to reach back and grab the boy’s hand, “i called about getting him set up with a tux for midsummers?”

katherine’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she took in who you were holding onto. “jj maybank…” she hummed , knowing exactly the reputation he and his father carried around, “i didn’t realize he was your plus one this year.”

you could hear the condescension in her voice , and by the tightening grip on your delicate hand , you knew jj could too. “well , he’s my boyfriend so…” you trailed off , waiting for katherine to just do her job and stop being like every other kook on the island. you never understood why your father considered her such a close friend. she was snippy and fake , and it was clear to you since the day you met.

“oh!” she smiled, “well come on back.” she turned to lead you both to the fitting areas , calling out her husband’s name to help out with jj’s measurements.

“boyfriend?” jj whispered to you , still holding your hand.

“didn’t i mention that?” you played dumb , knowing very well you left that little piece of information out yesterday when you got him to accept the deal.

“no , angel,” he shook his head , pulling you to a stop, “that’s like five hangouts worth! i only agreed because it was supposed to be one night of helpin’ ya out! and now you’re tellin’ me i gotta pretend to be your boyfriend too?” your hand reached up to cover jj’s mouth , looking around to make sure no one heard you.

“can we talk later?” you asked him , pleading eyes that begged him to leave it be for now.

but jj just scoffed , dropping your hand and flipping the curtain out of the way to follow after katherine.

YOU HADN’T heard a peep from the men’s parlor. katherine had been chatting in your ear the entire time she measured you , talking about everyone and everything. she mentioned having your family over to her house for dinner soon , which you made a mental note to bring up to your father when you got home later.

but you couldn’t help but think about jj behind the thick , velvet curtain. you heard katherine’s husband muttering every once in awhile , but never jj’s voice. was he actually mad at you? it was all pretend , and it would end right after midsummers. what was the big deal? he had done far worse things to you than omit some facts.

after long enough , katherine decided you didn’t even need to come in at all. “measurements are the same as last year , darling. you wasted your time here today,” she declared , sending the bill to your father’s account all while sending you an underlying message.

you shouldn’t have brought that maybank kid here.

“well , jj needed to get fitted too,” you smiled sweetly, “no harm done by comin’ in.” you were always deemed a nice girl. you were a nice girl , but there was only so much hidden snottiness you could deal with from certain people before becoming just as passive aggressive as them. “i’m actually going to go check on him,” you spoke , already turning to head back his way.

“she tells me we’re dating out of the blue , man! i don’t know what she was thinking , but she’s outta her mind!” you could finally hear jj’s cadence followed by marcus’ belly laugh.

“women,” he chuckled, “i’ll tell you right now , it doesn’t get any better. happy wife , happy life. get used to it , kid,” he advised the younger man , patting his shoulders before letting him know they were all done.

you stepped through the curtain , ignoring the tinge of hurt jj’s words caused in your heart while the metal loops glided across the curtain rod to announce your presence. “let’s go , jj.” you held your hand out to him , not giving him an option of taking his time. he could tell from the way your neck was stiff that something had upset you , so he wasted no time yanking his jeans back on. he didn’t want to be the reason for your cold attitude again. at least not for the rest of the day.

you dragged him out of the store , not sparing katherine a goodbye. you got in the car , buckling up as jj did the same before driving off in silence. it wasn’t long before you were driving through the streets of figure eight , being the only car on the road.

jj was poking around your glove compartment again , flipping through the owner’s manual to fill the car ride. he jumped and dropped the book to the floorboards when you let out a scream. he jolted and look over at you , watching the way your face nearly turned red from the air you were expelling from your body.

“yo , yo!” he shouted at you.

you took a deep breath , closing your eyes when you came to a stop sign. “sorry,” you mumbled , catching your breath still, “i just really , really dislike katherine! she’s so mean and snotty and two-faced! like , she was makin’ comments the entire time just poking at me!” you ranted , not caring that jj just saw you let out a scream you’d been holding in for about a week, “and don’t get me started on all of her implications about you.”

jj was still taken aback , not too sure what to say. he’d never seen you unravel like that before. he’d never thought you could. “um— well , at least we got it outta the way…” he tried to help the situation.

“yeah,” you nodded breathlessly , beginning to drive again like nothing had happened.

after a few more minutes of awkward silence , jj decided to speak up again , not forgetting what you tabled earlier. “boyfriend , huh?”

you sighed. you had forgotten about the conversation you still needed to have with him , so blinded by your frustrations. “yeah , so maybe my parents assumed that when i told them i had a date for midsummers last week , it was a boyfriend? and maybe i happened to leave that out when asking you to come with me?”

“oh , really?” jj feigned surprised, “i didn’t notice!”

“i’m sorry!” you cried, “but my dad wouldn’t stop bothering me about a date and then it all snowballed.” the pitch in your voice and pout in your lips made jj frown for a moment before focusing.

“i didn’t agree to playing house , princess,” jj reminded you , and your stomach dropped.

you pulled into the driveway , parking the car before shifting to look at him. “are you mad at me? you’re still gonna come to midsummers , right?” you needed him to say yes.

jj thought about it , not giving you any idea if he was backing out now or not. “five— no , six hangouts , and you have to come to a kegger,” he decided , nodding to himself. he felt like it was fair enough. if he would have to prance around figure eight as your arm candy for the next two weeks , you would have to start experiencing some of the cut. it was only right. a true balance he thought.

“but i don’t—“

“ah , ah ah!” he interrupted you , pressing a finger to your lips, “you’re not really in a position to negotiate , princess. i’m callin’ the shots now. if you want me to be your fake boyfriend for two weeks , i want you to start tagging along with the pogues. if not , you can just forget this whole thing.”

you stared at jj still surprised he touched your mouth. “i—“ you sighed , sitting back against your seat, “fine , but i’m not drinking or smoking or nothing.” you crossed your arms over your chest , making it clear you weren’t about to be pushed around on this anymore.

and he didn’t know why , but jj grinned. he knew this would all probably fall apart and cause a few problems— it was just what usually happened when he was involved in schemes , but he was excited. it would give him something to do for the next few weeks.

“pleasure doin’ business with ya , angel,” he smirked , climbing out of your car. he bent over , leaning down to the window. “now don’t just go around tellin’ everyone i’m taking your virginity or nothin’ either. i’ll play boyfriend , but i won’t have everyone thinking i’m corrupting father y/l/n’s precious daughter.”

your face crinkled up at jj’s words before you rolled up the window he was in. “excuse me?” you gasped , getting out of the car and rushing around to his side before smacking at him.

he laughed , blocking himself from the rapid but weak hits from your little purse. “i’m kidding!” he cackled , knowing it was a risky joke , but he had taken far greater risks with less rewards than pushing your buttons.

“you are so dirty , jj!” you huffed , getting one last thwack in at him, “maybe i’ll find a different date.”

“good luck with that,” jj breathed out , taking a step back in case you swung the bag at him again, “no one will put up with that little attitude of yours.”

“i do not have an attitude!” you argued back , flicking a few hairs out of your face, “you just make nasty comments.”

“jj , come on. we’re leaving!” he mimicked you , using his girl voice and waving his hands around, “that don’t sound familiar?” he questioned , hands on his hips after his performance.

you rolled your eyes , seeing that it probably wasn’t too far off. you weren’t blind to the fact that you were a little stuck up. it was never nasty or hateful , but you demanded a certain level of perfection from nearly everything in your life. “whatever , i don’t sound like that,” you finally spoke up , avoiding jj’s gaze, “thank you for showing up today.”

“you’re welcome , princess,” he smiled back , glad you were finally taking a joke, “i’ll text you whenever we’re gonna hangout,” he added with a thumbs up sent your way before hopping back into the twinkie. you watched him drive off before slipping back into your house.

jj couldn’t help but beat his thumb on the steering wheel to the radio’s tune , chuckling a little as he drove through the stop sign you were just screaming at. he’d missed so much of your life , that he hadn’t really gotten a good idea of who you were now. you were still girly and spoiled , but you were funnier than before— a natural humor that took control of your words and behaviors every now and then.

but then jj remembered why you were no longer friends , and his demeanor shifted , pissed off at himself for even saying yes yesterday to begin with. he knew this wouldn’t end well. john b said that last night after jj went to him about the situation too.

it was a disaster just waiting to happen.

hell , you were probably only doing this whole act to piss off your dad while still giving him what he wanted. the idea alone keyed jj up , feeling used now when he hadn’t thought to be before.

“yo , john!” he shouted , stomping into the house.

the brunette popped out from the living room , hardly moving from his position earlier when jj had left. “yes?” john b replied carefully , watching as jj kicked his boots off , clearly frustrated by something. he assumed it had to do with you , but had no idea what you could’ve done in two hours.

jj moved through the house , heading up to his room , hearing his friend follow him up. “you really think i’m gonna fall for that shit like i did last time?” he finally asked after shutting the door. he didn’t need any extra ears hearing his conversation.

john b furrowed his brows. what had you done to him? in two hours? “i don’t know , man. what happened today?” he joined his blonde friend on the bed , getting comfortable.

“so not only do i have to go to this fucking kook festival , right?” jj began , hearing john b’s quiet ‘you agreed to that’ but continuing to rant, “now i have to pretend to be her boyfriend! because she fuckin’ told her parents ‘bout dating me!”

“she what?” john b cracked up , not able to hold back his laughter just to spare jj some dignity, “why the hell would she do that? doesn’t her dad hate you or something?”

“yeah!” jj scoffed , silently thanking his friend for understanding.

“okay , but her mom loves you,” john b added , deciding he’d play devil’s advocate.

“yeah,” jj nodded , seeing the point, “but we haven’t spoken in years , and now she’s all like ‘be my fake boyfriend’ and ‘go to the prom with me’ and shit!” parroting your voice like he had done in your driveway.

it wasn’t the time , but john b kept chuckling at his friend. “man , i think you’re reading too deep into it. she needed a favor. you’re helping her out. that’s all,” he reasoned , sitting up in the bed now, “i know i told you to be wary , but i didn’t mean get paranoid. don’t get your panties in a twist because you have problems and she doesn’t.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” jj questioned , not expecting john b to turn on him. sarah or kie maybe. cleo and pope definitely , but not him.

john b sighed , rolling his eyes at how oblivious his friend was. “you’ve got residual shit coming up right now pretending to be some kook’s boyfriend , dude. you’re gonna have to handle that shit before you take it out on y/n. she seems nice enough to not fuck you over like camille,” he calmly explained , standing to leave, “besides it’s all fake anyway.” the boy simply patted jj’s shoulder before exiting the room , leaving jj to process his words alone with the name he tried his best to forget swirling in his mind on a loop.

meanwhile , back at your house , your sister had brought her friend over upon hearing certain details about your life she wanted to ask you about. you didn’t even make it up the stairs to your room before bella and her friend , olivia , were harassing you.

“why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend is jj? why didn’t you tell me you have a boyfriend?” bella shrieked in your ear , barging into your room after you. you sighed , tossing your purse onto your vanity before turning to face her.

“i didn’t tell you because it’s not your business,” you explained softly, “it’s not a big deal. i didn’t even want to tell mom and dad,” you admitted.

“wait— why not?” olivia wondered , sitting down on your bed with you and your sister.

“well , jj isn’t exactly dad’s favorite person,” you began , getting comfortable. you didn’t mind the intrusion from the younger girls. you actually enjoyed their company , so you had no problem telling them all about your errand with jj.

“but he’s sooo cute!” olivia whined , annoyed that you were so adamant about not actually liking him like that after you told them about the whole ruse.

“and he was always really nice to me,” bella added to their case. they were currently trying to convince you to really date him , even after telling them he never liked you like that.

you laughed at their interest but shook your head. “no , i don’t think i’ll ever actually date jj maybank,” you whispered , letting the words sink in. this was all fake. it was a favor. nothing more. you had to keep remembering that , or everything would fall apart , and you’d be stuck in high school , craving his attention all over again.

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @dcllhearts @snowtargaryen

[4ranghaes]

Hiya!! Could I request christmas as parents with Taesan?

day 7 ⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆ christmas as parents!

han taesan x reader [fluff, fem!mum!reader, dad!taesan]

10:53 - “baekho-ya!” you exclaimed, “come, quickly!”

baekho’s head snapped in your direction, where you stood crouched beside his little sister. he ran from where he was bothering his dad in the kitchen.

“what, mummy?” the five-year-old said, placing his hand on your shoulder once he arrived at your side.

“look, it’s your favourite christmas decoration!” you gasped, pointing to the winnie the pooh ornament you’d bought when baekho was just a baby, for one of your first christmases at your new house.

you and seulgi were in the midst of decorating a tree (or you were, while your one-year-old daughter hindered under the appearance of help), but you and taesan had many conversations this year about how your little boy was growing up too fast and, if anything, losing the magic of christmas already.

baekho fought a smile, scoffing at your words. you smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist, “don’t you want to hang it on the tree?”

baekho looked back at taesan, who was now coming to join you.

“is that still his favourite? baekho’s a big boy now, remember,” taesan offered, “i like this one.”

he reached down into the box, pulling out a polar bear.

baekho watched with interest taesan organising the decoration on the tree. you smiled up at your husband, who then took your daughter in his arms, showing her the decoration (from a safe distance).

“well i like this one,” you said, digging around until you found the very first ornament you’d bought for baekho’s first christmas: a family of snowmen, with each of your names listed on each one. you nudged your son with a wink, “good job seulgi can’t read yet, hey?”

he giggled as you placed the decoration on the tree, studying it for a moment afterwards. he then reached down, gentle hands picking up the winnie the pooh bauble, “hmm. i think this is still my favourite, actually dad. be– because there’s a tiger here, and i’m tiger.”

you smiled, kissing your son’s head as you stood up, “nice. go on then, put it on the tree.”

taesan smiled down at his son as he rocked back and forth with seulgi in his arms, he didn’t want to push it too much, but he was happy to know his son wasn’t void of christmas spirit just yet, “hey bud, have you ever seen home alone?”

baekho looked at his dad; who, although he would scarcely admit it, was his hero. he shook his head.

taesan gasped, nodding, “it’s one of the bests. but it’s based at christmas, is that alright?”

baekho giggled, before nodding.

“yeah? i thought for a moment you didn’t like christmas,” taesan said, placing seulgi back down on the floor as the boys busied themselves with decorating the tree, baekho doing so absentmindedly.

“no! i like it,” baekho announced, in the way that children do about any matter: serious or not, “particu-lar-ly because of seulgi.”

“yeah?” taesan hummed, looking down at his son with intrigue, “why’s that?”

baekho looked at his little sister who was sat on the floor, staring up at the christmas tree lights. he laughed, “she likes it. and–and i was worried that santa wouldn’t know she existed. b-because it was only her first christmas. but she got loads of presents! but–but i was still worried this year, even so, so i added what i think she wanted when i wrote my list.”

taesan’s mouth dropped open, as he nodded, finally understanding why his sport-loving son asked for baby dolls and various baby sensory toys on his christmas list. he thought it’d been a joke.

“hey bud, you don’t need to worry about that!” taesan laughed, checking to see you were watching what your son was saying as you stood in the kitchen, “you know me and mummy are in close contact with santa, right? it’s a privilege you get when you become a parent.”

baekho giggled, taesan just nodding seriously.

“how about you re-write your list then, bud? cause we gave him some ideas, but we didn’t really know what you wanted for christmas!”

baekho nodded shyly, taesan smiling and patting him on the back, “go on, then. seulgi can help me with the tree, can’t you princess? yes!”

[enwoso]

FINISH THE... — leah williamson x reader

twelve days of christmas | day ten

i apologise for this being so late😅 day 11 will be out soon too🙃

based on this request

the lights were warm and bright as they glared at a couch which had been placed on the inside astro at the training ground.

the couch covered with tinsel and other christmas decorations as a large christmas tree was placed to the side of it adorned with arsenal-red baubles as it was surrounded with wrapped gifts and fake snow giving it a cozy glow.

you sitting on the couch beside your girlfriend leah as you both wore matching christmas sweaters that had been given to you, ironically they were christmas jumpers of each other.

yours having leah's face on it with big white block letters saying, 'merry christmas and a happy new leah' where as leah's was a one with your face on with reindeer ears and a red nose. 

"oh they could of used a better photo than that" you sulked as you saw the photo on leah's jumper, as a small chuckle came from her as she threw the camera operator a thumbs up signalling you were both ready to begin the filming.

leah leaned back, as she rested her elbows on the sofas armrest looking effortlessly relaxed — but you could already sense her competitive energy as it radiated off of her.

"welcome to the arsenal christmas challenge! i'm y/n l/n and she's leah williamson and we are going to go head to head in some classic christmas games" you smiled reading the lines in your head, you'd been asked to say before starting the filming.

"you ready?" you glanced over to leah who sat with a smirk plastered across her lips, you reaching over to grab the card off the producer. "oh baby i was born ready" leah quipped back as you scoffed. 

you rolled your eyes, grinning. "careful, williamson. confidence is a slippery slope." 

leah clapped her hands together, picking up the card which has the first game on it, "first up is christmas trivia, first one to answer gets the point. thats easy, right”

leah placed the card back down looking to the person behind the camera who was going to be telling you the questions, a look of determination flashing in her eyes as you nodded, "lets go!"

question one; 'what year was home alone released?'

"1990!" you blurted out slapping your hand over your mouth as you realised you went to early, a disapproving glare on leah's face, as you hadn't even gave her a chance to think about the question.

"how on earth did you- is someone telling you the answers?" leah asked as she looked around the team who was filming, as you shook your head giggling.

"no i'm just faster than you"

question two; 'what is the name of the grinch's dog?'

"max!" leah yelled out fast before the question had even ended, a small fist pumping up as small win, you now with the glare as you leant forward on the couch full concentration mode coming out. 

"it's on williamson!"

the trivia went back and forth, with leah's competitiveness driving her to blurt out answers faster and faster - the whole concept of a buzzer sound had gone out the window as you were both trying to answer the question before it had even been fully asked.  

when leah shouted “frosty!” in response to a question about rudolph you were gone and belly laughing for a good five minutes.

“le- not, not every answer is frosty” you got out through giggles as leah sat with a playful pout, “i’m just covering my bases” she whispered quietly.

leah won the trivia by a margin which in your opinion would say she slightly cheater that and the fact you didn’t want to boost the blondes ego any more by telling her she won fair and square.

the second game was guess the christmas song, the team would play ten seconds of a christmas song and you both would have buzzers and had to guess the title.

the first few notes of the song played both you sitting with fierce concentration faces, but out of no where leah smacked the buzzer with such force you were sure she could have smashed it.

“jingle bell rock!” she declared, rushing out the words it mumbled into one. you turning to look at the blonde wondering how she got it from the two notes that had played.

‘correct!’

“the poor buzzer” you teased, glancing at it with a pout as leah gave you pointed look as she shrugged. “it got me the point so i’m sure it’ll be okay”

the next song began and this time you were able to buzz in confidently — before leah. “last christmas!”

‘correct’

the game carried on and after getting the first couple right you got into a groove and were getting most right managing to secure the win over your determined girlfriend who was now sat with a deepened frown.

“you’ve been studying for this haven’t you” leah accused as you gasp playfully rolling your eyes, “i just know my christmas songs” you shrugged causally as you listened in to the tie breaker as the score was currently one:one.

the tie breaker was whoever could wrap the gift the fastest wins.

moving to a table where two identical gift-wrapping setups awaited. leah immediately moving the tape and wrapping paper closer to her reach.

“ay move it back williamson” you pointed as your grumbled moving it back to it’s original place in the middle of the table.

the team behind the cameras counted down and once the word go was said, leah’s movements were fast and frantic.

“slow and steady wins the race," you teased, carefully folding your wrapping paper as you glanced over to see the mess which had occurred on leah’s side of the table.

“yeah? let's see if slow and steady beats a winner's mindset love," leah shot back, sticking a piece of tape to her forehead in her rush. “can i have the scissors?” she asked as you were carefully using them to cut the wrapping paper.

“in a minute” you mumbled, your tongue sticking out as your were concentrating. you could go a little faster than you were but part of you was finding joy in slowing your girlfriend’s rush down.

“i’m gettin’ annoyed now” she grumbled as she reached over to grab the scissor which admittedly you did place furthest away from her.

“oh- sorry did you want them” you teased as she shot you warning glare as you giggled a little carrying on with your careful wrapping.

but somehow, despite her chaotic method, leah finished first—though her present looked like it had been wrapped by a toddler while yours actually looked worth opening so who was the real winner…

"done!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up in victory.

the team behind the camera inspected both presents, laughing. "well, leah's is...creative, but technically she wins on speed."

leah fist-pumped again. "knew it!"

you shook your head, laughing. "fine, you win this time. but next year, it's on."

leah slung an arm around your shoulders, still grinning from ear to ear. "next year, i’ll win again. but you can keep pretending it'll be close darlin’."

the cameras cut, and as the crew began to pack up, leah leaned in close. "good game," she said softly, her competitiveness giving way to affection. as she placed a soft kiss to the side of your face.

"good game," you echoed, smiling. "even if your wrapping skills are atrocious."

"hey, at least i've got charm," she replied, bumping her shoulder against yours. “your lucky i love you” you smiled as you pecked her lips, as she carried your water bottle for you as you began to walk off set hand in hand

you couldn't help but think that the holidays were even better with leah by your side—even if she was a bit too competitive for her own good.

[thicccshady]

Welcome Home (Your Biggest Fan Part Two)🐾

Eminem X Reader

image pulled from google

✨️MasterList✨️

PART ONE Your Biggest Fan 🐾

Content: Fluff, Cursing, Brief mentions of animal abuse, Crying

Heart beating out of your chest, you reached towards your phone. A number you didn’t recognize looked back at you. It bared the 313-area code. Holding your breath you answered the phone with a soft "Hello?"

“Hello, is this Y/N?”

“Yes, this is she,” you said, pinching your phone between your shoulder and ear. If this was the call you’d been hoping for, you wanted to be ready to head out the door immediately. 

“Hi! Yes, you visited us the other day. I understand you were interested in Stan-“

“Yes, that’s correct!”

The voice on the other end chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Wonderful! His new home did not work out and he is back with us. He wanted me to ask if would you be interested in adopting him?” 

A huge smile crossed your face. “We would love to.”

“Amazing! We are able to place him on hold here for three days. Do you have a minute to schedule a time to come in for paperwork?”

“Yes!” Taking a hold of your phone, you put the call on speaker and opened your calendar. Thank god, you weren’t scheduled to go into work today. “Actually, if it’s alright, I could come in in about forty-five minutes from now.”

“Sure, let me check our openings for today.” Trying your best to be patient, you began to fidget. “Oh, looks like we are rather booked today. Would you be able to come in at 4:30?”

“Absolutely” Oh my god, how would you tell Marshall.

“Great! If you decide to take Stan home today. We will send him home with his medical records, a collar and leash. He currently is eating Iams chicken and rice dry dog food. We recommend sticking to the food the dogs are used to. Switching to another brand may cause an upset stomach. I have had the pleasure of spending some time with Stan while he has been with us. Personally, I recommend picking up some squeaky toys for him. Those tend to not last long here, but when he was able to play with one, he loved it.”

“Sounds like I have a bit of shopping to do!” You switched over to your notes app and began to make a list.

“Oh, my he will love to be spoiled. Well, Y/N, if there is anything we can help you with in the meantime feel free to call us back. Unless we hear otherwise, we will plan to see you at 4:30!”

“Thank you so much. See you then!”

“Alrighty, have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too! Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up the phone, you couldn’t hold in the excitement anymore. You did a little happy dance. Suddenly, the weight of what just happened hit you. You agreed to adopt a dog. Not just any dog, though—it was Stan. Should you have called Marshall first? What if his feelings about Stan had changed?

Frantically you pulled up his contact. He didn’t always answer when at the studio though. The phone rang and rang before going to voicemail: “The person you called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Please try again later. Goodbye.”

You sighed, typing out a quick message asking him to call when he had a moment, then set to work preparing the house. Even if Marshall wasn’t on board, the worst-case scenario would be a cleaner home. Vacuuming, organizing, and rearranging, you spent the morning in a productive frenzy.

 Treating yourself to some tea and a rest. You picked up your phone to a text from Paul. 

That’s all you needed to hear. You were going to bring Stan home today. Marshall would get home around 5:20. With some luck, and little traffic you could make it back before him. 

After stashing away some of Marshall’s loose cassettes scattered on the floor, you grabbed your keys and checked your shopping list one more time. 

Iams chicken and rice dry dog food

Bowls

Leash

Collar

Squeaky toy

Peanut butter/treats

Dog bed

Dog brush

Poop bags

Travel crate

Lots of toys

---

Your car’s backseat was soon filled with bags. You hadn’t enjoyed shopping this much in ages, and the deals you found weren’t bad either. The pièce de résistance, however, was a dog-sized hoodie that would match Marshall’s favorite.

The clock on your dash read 3:04. You would have just enough time to grab some lunch, set up Stan’s new things at home, and make it to the dog shelter before your appointment.

Excitement radiated through you as you pulled into the driveway, gravel crunched under the tires. Lugging the bags inside, you transformed your home for its newest resident. First, the food and water bowls found a spot in the kitchen, tucked away in a corner to avoid spills. You arranged the plush dog bed in the living room near the couch, where you knew Stan would want to be close to you but more so Marshall. Surely, the bed would be moved to Marshall's office on days he worked from home. The squeaky toys were arranged in a basket by the TV stand, though you chuckled, imagining the chaos when Stan—or Marshall—dumped them all out.

By 3:45, everything was ready. You sat the hoodie by the door alongside a hat, a subtle hint for Marshall if you didn’t make it home first. A quick glance in the mirror and a face wash later, you were back in the car, heart pounding with anticipation. 

The shelter was calmer than you remembered, a stark contrast to the excited storm brewing inside you. The same cheerful volunteer from before greeted you with a wide smile. “Hi, Y/N! Right on time. Are you ready to take Stan home?”

“More than ready,” you replied, practically bouncing on your toes.

The adoption paperwork was straightforward, though it felt like it took forever. You could hardly focus as the volunteer walked you through the forms, nodding eagerly at all the right moments. Your fingers drummed against the office chair you sat in. Finally, with a flourish, you signed your name at the bottom. Clicking the pen closed, your phone rang. It was Marshall. Shit, he should still be at the studio. Did he go home early? Excusing yourself, you stepped outside to answer.

“Hey, Love.” You tried to steady your voice, shaky with excitement. 

“Yo. I am starving. We are wrapping up a bit early today. Thoughts on pizza from that place across town?” 

Mentally, you calculated what time this would get him home. “Sounds great. What time do you think you’ll make it back?” You tried so hard not to sound suspicious. 

“uhh. maybe forty-five minutes to an hour. Also, I might get us a little surprise.”

Giggling at his normal nonsense, “Okay, drive safe.”

“Nah.” His voice changing to the higher pitched tone he uses with babies, dogs, and apparently you, “I Wuv You!”

“I love you too, Marshall. Bye bye.” Holding your phone to your chest, the sparkle in your eyes brightened. This was going to work out perfectly. 

Re-entering the room, the volunteered looked up at you. “Are you ready for Stan? I know he has been very eager to see you again.”

You slid back into the office chair, “Absolutely!”

“Great! I’ll go get him for you,” the volunteer said, taking the papers and disappearing down the hall.

A few minutes later, the sound of claws clicking in the hallway tile announced his arrival. Stan bounded into the room; tail wagging so hard it looked like it might propel him into the air. The volunteer handed you the leash, and Stan immediately began sniffing every inch of your shoes, pants, and hands. His feet danced with excitement, as his backend wiggled back and forth.

“Hey, buddy,” you cooed, kneeling to meet him. His warm, wet nose nuzzled your cheek, and your heart melted all over again.

As the volunteer handed you Stan’s file, she lingered for a moment, her expression softening. “Before you take him home, I thought you might want to know a little more about Stan’s story.”

You nodded eagerly, rubbing Stan’s ears while he looked up at you with his big, trusting eyes.

“Stan’s past is a bit of a mystery,” she began. “He was found in the winter wandering in a park downtown. A kind gentleman saw him there a few days in a row—no collar, no tags, and looking severely underfed. He brought him to us, and we scanned Stan for a microchip, but there wasn’t one. He either escaped and was never found or, more likely, lifted by his previous owners.”

Your heart ached at the thought of him all alone, cold, scavenging for food and waiting for someone who never came. You gave him an extra scratch behind his ears, and his tail thumped against your leg.

“We estimate he’s about two years old, based on his teeth and overall health. He was pretty scared when he first came in. A lot of dogs are, especially if they haven’t been around people much, but Stan warmed up quickly. He’s incredibly sweet and loves attention—honestly probably because he didn’t get much of it before. It’s clear someone trained him a little; he mostly knows basic commands like sit and stay, and he’s decently house-trained. So, whoever had him before must have cared at least a little.”

“Poor guy,” you murmured, looking into Stan’s soulful eyes. “But he’s okay now?”

The volunteer nodded. “He is. He’s been with us for a while. At first, he was overlooked—mutts often are, unfortunately—but then, as you know, a young couple fell in love with him. They were so excited to take him home.”

You frowned, glancing down at Stan. “If you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t it work out?”

The volunteer smiled softly. “I view it as a happy ending. They were a nice couple, but shortly after they brought him home, they found out they’re expecting their first child. They were understandably overwhelmed and felt it wouldn’t be fair to Stan to bring him into such a big transition. They brought him back, and it was clear they were heartbroken about it.”

You stroked Stan’s head as he leaned into your touch, a pang of sadness mingling with your happiness. “That’s rough. For them and for him.”

“It is,” the volunteer agreed. “But we’re so glad he found you. From what we’ve seen, Stan’s a resilient guy. He just loves being loved.”

“Well, he’s going to get plenty of that with us,” you promised, your voice firm, and hands cupping Stan's sweet face.

The volunteer beamed. “I can tell you’re going to be a great match. Just take things slow and let him settle in at his own pace. If you ever need help or advice, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” you said, feeling the leash between your fingers and looking at Stan. “You’re coming home, buddy.”

--

Marshall’s car pulled into the garage, the sound of the engine humming to a stop. Inside the house, Stan was dressed for the big moment: the dog-sized hoodie you’d picked out earlier fit him perfectly. To top it off, your old baseball cap perched precariously on Stan’s head, just enough to make the sight of him even more heart-meltingly adorable, and dare you say a little shady.

You crouched by Stan’s side, giving his ear a gentle scratch. “Okay, buddy,” you whispered, your voice a mix of nerves and excitement. “This is it. You ready?”  

Stan looked at you as if he knew something big was about to happen. You had been preparing for this moment all afternoon, and now it was finally here. Stan sat obediently by the door, his tail wagging furiously but butt staying in place, just like you’d practiced.

The sound of the car door closing snapped you into motion. Reminding Stan to "Stay," you hurried outside, stepping into the garage just as Marshall was heading toward the trunk to grab the food.  

“Hey,” you called out, your tone calm and casual—too casual, given the excitement buzzing under your skin.  

Marshall turned to you, smiling but raising an eyebrow. “Hey pretty lady… what are you doing out here? It’s cold.”  

“I thought I’d greet you,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer. “But, uh… don’t worry about carrying anything in. I’ve got it all under control.” 

Marshall paused, his eyes narrowing playfully. “The fuck?... Woman, what are you hiding?”  

“Nothing!” you said a little too quickly, your voice going up an octave. “Just trust me, okay?”  

Marshall chuckled, leaning against the car. “Well now I’m not sure if I should.”  

“Pleaseee, Marshall,” you grabbed the food, stepping back toward the house and motioning for him to follow. “Come inside.”  

Marshall shook his head and chuckled, as he followed you. “You’re being fucking weird, but okay.”

The moment he opened the door, Stan perked up from his spot, his entire body quivering with excitement. For a split second, Marshall froze, his eyes widening as they landed on Stan.

As Stan bolted towards Marshall, the baseball cap slipped off his square head. The dog bounded into Marshall’s arms, his tail wagging furiously.

Catching Stan in a tight hug, Marshall lowered themselves to his knees. 

You leaned against the doorframe, grinning as you watched the reunion. “Surprise.” you said softly.

Marshall met your gaze, his expression a mixture of disbelief and pure happiness. “You—wait—he’s ours?”

You nodded, noticing Marshall’s teary eyes, a lump caught in your throat at the sight. “Yeah. He’s ours. I got the call this morning, and I couldn’t say no. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” Marshall asked, his voice cracking as Stan licked his cheek. “Are you shitting me?” 

“Not at all. I think he missed you too much,” you said tears now filling your eyes.

“I missed him too,” Marshall replied, his voice soft as he looked down at Stan. Then he looked back up at you, his eyes shining. “Thank you Y/N.”

Almost as if he rehearsed it, Stan snuggled into Marshall and attacked him with kisses, whipping away the tears slipping down Marshall’s cheeks. Petting Stan with both hands, Marshall tried to process everything. “Yooo, you’re wearing a hoodie, little man? And—wait, is that your hat?”  

Stan barked happily, spinning in circles in front of Marshall. You walked over, scooping up the cap from the floor. “Figured he needed to look his best for his big reunion,” you said, placing the hat back on Stan’s head for a moment before it fell off again.  

Marshall laughed, shaking his head. “Fucking unbelievable,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He looked back at Stan, then at you, his eyes shining. “Thank you. I don’t even know what to say.” Marshall pulled you into a hug, his free arm still wrapped around Stan, who was now happily nestled between the two of you.  

“Best surprise ever,” Marshall said, his voice quiet but full of meaning. Reality snapping back to him, Marshall looked towards you. “My surprise looks like shit now. And here I thought a secret order of breadsticks would be the highlight of our night.”

You laughed, resting your head against his shoulder as Stan sniffed you. “Welcome home,” you whispered, as you scratched behind his ears.

Stan wiggled in the middle, his tail thumping against both of you like a rhythmic drumbeat. Marshall scratched behind Stan’s ears, his gaze soft as he looked at you with a full smile. “This little guy’s going to be spoiled rotten. You know that, right?... We need to get the little dude some Snoop doggy merch.”

A/N: Hey chat. I cried writing this. I'm not sure if there will be a part three.. but I could be talked into it. I really love dog dad Marshall. <3

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[sanarsi]

hello, my dearest Nari 🧡

with this ask I challenge you to write a ficlet (or anything bigger if you want) inspired by this screenshot:

may the writing muses be with you,

kissing you on your forehead (if you allow it not then just waving from the distance!)

ps almost sent you nudes

Father’s Love

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Life is a bitch that can surprise with reverse version of Joel’s nightmare. Warnings: angst, canon violence, child!reader Wordcount: 1,2k An: I wanted to write more so I don’t promise there won’t be a part 2. A wonderful plot twist was created in my head ugh. This is a part of this -> challenge by my lovely Aly (literally my muse) who almost!!! sent me dirty things.

Masterlist

Joel knew what he needed to survive.

As luck would have it, everything was within reach.

A working car, a gun and ammo, food supplies, and a few other things. The only thing standing in his way was a man, tall man and obviously well-trained, maybe a military? Joel had killed a lot of people and felt no inhibitions about doing it again, especially with such good loot waiting for him.

So he waited, hidden in the bushes, and silently just watched.

He wanted to wait until dark, maybe even until the man fell asleep, but the perfect opportunity presented itself earlier. The universe itself was giving him signs that he had to do it. And he had to do it now.

As quietly as he could, he reloaded his weapon, never taking his eyes off his enemy. The man sat with his back to him, completely unaware of anything, changing the bandage on his foot.

There was no better opportunity and Joel knew it. So he pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed through the forest and birds fled from nearby trees. He only watched as a limp body with a hole in its head fell to the ground. After that, there was dead silence.

He waited a moment, but definitely too short, before he decided to come out of hiding.

Maybe if he had stuck to his own principles back then he wouldn’t have done almost something he would regret for the rest of his life.

Hearing was faster than his sight at someone’s footsteps, he automatically aimed the gun in that direction. For a moment he didn’t know if he saw correctly when a child appeared in front of him. A little girl who was terrified and trembling with fear.

She looked exceptionally well-groomed. Unworn jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers that looked almost new. No scars or dirt on her face. But it was her eyes that gave away the most — she didn’t see much evil. She looked as if Joel was the first person to make her realize that such a thing really existed.

Joel let out a slow breath and relaxed his muscles as he looked at her longer and longer. He lowered the gun a bit and with every passing second he saw her more closely, clearly. He felt a growing weight in his chest, as if the consequences of his actions were looking at him with those big tearful eyes. He didn’t want to think about what appeared in his head at the thought of the child but when her gaze fell on the body lying a few feet behind him, he knew that the weight of guilt was just starting to crush him. Slowly and painfully.

“Daddy?” Her soft, breaking voice pierced the heavy silence. He shivered at the sound, so reminiscent of the one that followed him in his nightmares. Tears welled up in his eyes and he didn’t fight them when they started to roll down his cheeks.

Karma caught up with him in the worst possible way.

For the first time in several long years, he felt like he had failed again. Like his nightmare had become reality again, but this time, he was the one who caused all the evil.

He knew that with another burden he could not continue to live. He could not allow his nightmare to gain the strength to crush him.

So he let his instincts take over again.

“Hi kiddo,” he said in a slightly hoarse voice and managed a gentle smile. The girl met his gaze again. Tears refused to escape her eyes. “What’s your name?”

Joel watched as she clenched her fists tighter around the sleeves of her sweatshirt and shook her head, clearly not wanting to answer his question.

“’s all right,” he tried to assure her. As proof of his words, he slowly crouched down and tossed the gun aside. “See? I won’t hurt you.” He spread his arms in a friendly gesture and, despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, tried to look friendly.

You had to trust him. He had no other choice now.

“You seem like a smart girl.” He smiled wider. He almost managed to ignore the pain in his heart. “I’m sure your dad taught ya a lot of things, right?”

She nodded uncertainly. He tried to stop himself from moving too aggressively, not wanting to scare her. But the urge to grab her in his arms now and apologize for what he had done was overwhelming, almost unbeatable.

“Your daddy tell you how to cope when he can’t do it for ya?”

She denied again, “No.” Her soft and uncertain voice almost broke him in half.

He could hardly believe that after everything he had experienced, he found himself again in the same and yet completely different position as so many years ago. But life was a bitch.

“Can I show ya?” he asked, wanting to give her a choice, an illusory possibility, but she was just a child. A child he had hurt just as someone had hurt him.

Her chin quivered as she nodded, “’kay.” She was on the verge of tears. Her small body was shaking, whether from the cold or the emotion he didn’t know, so he barely managed to restrain himself from pulling her into a tight embrace.

“I know you’re a tough girl,” he praised her with a wide smile he was holding with all his strength. “You’re smart and I’m sure you could handle any obstacle, right?”

She listened to him carefully. She was fully focused on him and that made things much easier. She had to see only him, she couldn't look at the dead body lying behind him.

She couldn't.

“Mhm,” she murmured softly, clenching her fists tighter.

“Attagirl.” He laughed through his tears and took a deep, calming breath. “Your daddy said if he couldn’t take care of you,” he began slowly, moving closer to her. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t back down. “I have to do it for him.”

He stopped in front of her and watched her reaction. She seemed to process his words, as if she didn’t understand their meaning. Seeing her confusion, he slowly knelt down in front of her with a warm smile and watched the confusion in her eyes for a moment.

She was so small, so innocent and pure…

“So you are my daddy now?”

And he barely stopped himself from choking on his tears.

He sobbed, covering his mouth and nodded without thinking. He couldn’t hesitate. He couldn’t let you see his hesitation. So he was sure of his new role. He was sure that he had to become a father again.

And he became it the moment she pressed herself tightly against his chest, burying her face in his neck, and his arms closed her tightly.

He felt it. Again. The strength that came from holding a small being in his arms, someone who depended only on him. And this time, he knew he wouldn’t fail, can’t fail.

Tags: @syd-djarin @yorksgirl @puduvallee @luciaispunk @theoraekenslover @bbyanarchist

[kiya-sparks]

Uhm-

This is my first ever post so here’s a small fanfic about Gaz from modern warfare adopting a child he finds on a mission :|

Uhm here it is ig:

The heat was oppressive, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you question every decision that led you here. Kyle Garrick, better known to his comrades as Gaz, adjusted his grip on his rifle as he moved through the desolate town. The mission had been straightforward—intel suggested that enemy forces had been using the abandoned area as a weapons cache. What they hadn’t expected was the eerie silence, the stillness that felt wrong.

“Clear on my side,” Price’s voice crackled through the comms.

“Same here,” Soap chimed in.

Gaz swept through a crumbling house, his boots crunching on broken glass and debris. The wallpaper was peeling, the furniture overturned. It was a ghost town. But as he moved into the living room, something stopped him in his tracks—a faint sound, almost like a whimper.

“Hold up,” Gaz whispered into his mic.

“What is it?” Price asked.

“Not sure. Checking it out.”

He followed the sound, heart pounding, until he reached a closet. Slowly, he opened the door, his rifle raised. What he found made his stomach twist—a little girl, no older than six, huddled in the corner. Her blonde hair was tangled, her face smudged with dirt, and her wide blue eyes stared up at him in fear.

“Bloody hell,” Gaz muttered, lowering his weapon.

The girl flinched, curling tighter into herself.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, crouching down to her level. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her eyes darted to the gun, then back to his face.

“Gaz, report,” Price’s voice came through the comms.

“I… I found a kid,” Gaz said, still trying to process it himself.

“A kid?” Soap sounded as surprised as Gaz felt.

“Yeah. She’s scared out of her mind. I don’t think she’s been here long.”

Price’s tone shifted. “Bring her out. We’ll figure it out from there.”

Gaz extended a hand to the girl. “Come on, love. It’s not safe here.”

She hesitated but eventually reached out, her tiny hand slipping into his. It was cold, and it broke something in Gaz to think of her alone in this place.

---

Back at the makeshift base, Y/N , as they learned her name was, sat wrapped in one of Gaz’s jackets, clutching a cup of warm tea. She hadn’t spoken much, just short answers to their gentle questions.

“Parents?” Soap asked quietly as the three of them stood off to the side.

“Gone, I’d wager,” Price said grimly.

Gaz’s jaw tightened. “We can’t just leave her.”

“We’re not going to,” Price said. “But this isn’t exactly a daycare. She needs a stable home.”

The words hung in the air, and Gaz felt something stir in his chest. He looked over at Y/N , who was staring into the cup like it held all the answers. There was something about her—maybe it was the way she’d clung to him during the ride back, or the way she looked at him now, like he was the only safe thing in her world.

“I’ll take her,” Gaz said, surprising even himself.

Price raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that, son? This isn’t a short-term commitment.”

“I know,” Gaz said firmly. “But she deserves better than being tossed into the system. I can give her a home.”

Soap smirked. “Didn’t peg you for the dad type, mate.”

Gaz shrugged. “Guess I am now.”

---

The transition wasn’t easy. Y/N was shy, often retreating into herself. But Gaz was patient. He bought her toys, books, and a tiny pink bike she instantly fell in love with. He learned how to braid her hair, how to pack her lunch for school, and how to comfort her when nightmares woke her in the middle of the night.

The rest of the Task Force became her extended family. Soap was the goofy uncle who taught her Scottish slang, and Price was the gruff but caring grandfather figure who always seemed to have a Werther’s Original in his pocket for her. Even Ghost, with his intimidating demeanor, had a soft spot for Y/N, often bringing her small trinkets from missions.

One evening, months after he’d taken her in, Gaz sat on the couch, watching Y/N color in one of her books.

“Daddy?” she said suddenly, looking up at him.

Gaz’s heart stopped. She’d never called him that before.

“Yeah, love?”

“Are you gonna go away?”

The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He set his mug down and moved to sit next to her.

“I’ll always come back,” he promised, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No matter what.”

She studied him for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. She went back to her coloring, and Gaz sat there, overwhelmed by the weight of her trust.

For years, he’d thought his purpose was on the battlefield, protecting the world from threats. But now, as he watched Y/N hum to herself, he realized his most important mission was right here at home.

[atsro-slut]

Heyy astro! So I just fell ill out of nowhere, so I gotta cancel so many plans 😔 Being sick sucksss, especially when you finally have a break from school 😮‍💨 Could I please ask a nice comforting fic about Remus taking care of reader when she's sick? Possibly with her feeling nauseous (without actually getting sick) and being triggered bc of her Emetophobia? Thanks lovely! 🫶

Comfort in the Quiet, Calm in the Storm

Hi hun!! Im sorry you're sick :( I hope you feel better and enjoy the fic!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Remus helps Y/N feel better when she falls sick!

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

It was a cold evening at Hogwarts when Y/N first felt it—an odd, unsettling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it at first, busying herself with homework in the Gryffindor common room. The flickering firelight and the comforting presence of the castle were usually enough to keep her grounded, but today was different. The nausea seemed to worsen with every passing minute, and soon she found herself clutching her abdomen, trying to breathe through the sudden discomfort.

“Y/N?”

Remus Lupin’s voice brought her back to the present. She glanced up, meeting his warm brown eyes across the room. He had been studying at the table nearby, but his gaze was now fixed on her, concern written all over his face.

“I’m fine,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head in an attempt to brush off the queasiness. “Just a bit of a stomachache.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look fine. Come here, love,” he coaxed gently, his tone soothing.

Y/N didn’t resist. She knew he wouldn’t let it go, and honestly, she was grateful. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t feel fine at all. In fact, she felt like her whole body was on the edge of something she couldn’t control.

She slowly stood up and walked over to where Remus was sitting. He shifted aside to make room for her, and as she sank into the armchair beside him, he instinctively reached for her hand.

“Tell me what’s going on,” he said softly, his thumb gently tracing the back of her hand.

“I don’t know,” Y/N whispered. “I just feel… off. A bit dizzy. My stomach’s turning, but it’s not—” She stopped herself, aware of what she was about to say. The word hung heavy on her tongue, a word she tried so hard to avoid. She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm.

Remus’s eyes softened with understanding. “You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to,” he said gently. “But I’m here for you. Whatever it is.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her just from hearing him say that. It was rare for her to open up about her struggles with emetophobia, especially with the one person she cared about most. Remus had always been understanding, but today, her fear felt overwhelming. Her stomach churned at the thought of getting sick—something she hadn’t been able to control since childhood—and her mind began to spiral.

“I’ll get you something,” Remus continued, sensing her distress. “Something to settle your stomach. You’ll feel better soon.”

Y/N gave a shaky smile, grateful for his calm presence. He always seemed to know how to make her feel better, how to soothe her even when the world felt out of control.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The evening stretched on, and Y/N couldn’t shake the sensation of nausea that clung to her. She had tried to drink some water, but it hadn’t helped. She had curled up under a blanket beside Remus on the couch, but the nausea still gnawed at her insides, and the dizziness refused to leave.

"Do you want me to get Madame Pomfrey?" Remus asked after a long silence, his voice careful.

Y/N shook her head quickly, but the movement only made her feel worse. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself, but she couldn’t escape the overwhelming sense of discomfort.

"I’m fine, really," she replied, her voice strained. "I just need a minute."

Remus didn’t push further. Instead, he carefully shifted so that he was sitting behind her, supporting her back with a cushion. His hands were warm and steady as he placed one on her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on her skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice like a gentle lullaby. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The kindness in his tone made Y/N’s heart ache. She had always been so terrified of being judged, of appearing weak or fragile, especially around him. But Remus never made her feel that way. He never once looked at her with pity, and that was something she cherished more than anything.

She leaned back against him, resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a rhythm she found grounding, and it helped her focus on something other than the sickening feeling in her stomach. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet, to the sound of his breath, and allowed herself a small moment of peace.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked after a while, his voice soft, barely a whisper.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had been carrying this fear around for so long, and though she had told Remus bits and pieces before, she had never truly opened up about how severe her emetophobia could be.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he simply continued to hold her, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos of her mind.

When he finally spoke again, it was with a quiet understanding. “You don’t have to tell me everything, love. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she had never been able to express. She had always been afraid of burdening others with her fear, especially Remus, but the kindness in his voice and the gentleness of his touch made it feel just a little less daunting.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I hate this feeling. The nausea, the thought of being sick. I just… I can’t handle it. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Her chest tightened, her breathing becoming shallow. Remus’s arms tightened around her as if he could somehow absorb the tension in her body. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Whatever you need.”

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” Y/N continued, her voice barely audible. “I just want it to stop. I’m afraid of being out of control. Of not being able to stop it when it happens.”

Remus’s thumb brushed against her temple, as though brushing away her worries. “I know, Y/N. I know you don’t want to feel like this. But you’re not alone. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

He kissed the top of her head, his touch tender and reassuring. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

Y/N clung to his words, willing herself to believe them, even as her fear threatened to swallow her whole.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The night stretched on, the fire crackling softly in the background, and the hours passed in quiet conversation. Remus didn’t try to rush her through the nausea; instead, he focused on calming her mind, drawing her attention away from the spiral of thoughts that threatened to take over.

As time went on, Y/N began to feel a little less overwhelmed. The nausea was still there, lingering in the background, but it wasn’t as suffocating. She had Remus with her, and that made all the difference.

“Do you want some tea?” Remus asked, his voice soft. “I think it might help settle your stomach.”

Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion. “Yes, please,” she murmured.

Remus rose from the couch and moved toward the small kitchenette in the corner of the common room. He returned shortly with a steaming mug of chamomile tea, the aroma of the herbs filling the air.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the cup. “It’s not much, but it should help.”

Y/N took the mug from him, the warmth of the tea comforting against her chilled fingers. She took a slow sip, letting the soothing liquid settle in her stomach. For the first time all evening, she felt a small glimmer of relief.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Remus smiled, his eyes soft. “Anytime, love. You don’t ever have to go through this alone.”

She smiled back, leaning into his side once again. For the first time in hours, the knot in her stomach began to loosen. The fear wasn’t completely gone, but it didn’t feel as overpowering. And with Remus there beside her, it felt a little easier to breathe.

They sat in silence for a while, just being together. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant in the face of their quiet comfort.

Y/N’s head rested on Remus’s shoulder as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace. She didn’t feel entirely better yet, but with him there, it felt like the storm inside her had calmed—just a little.

And in that small moment, she realized that maybe that was enough for now. She had him. And that was all she needed to make it through the storm.

[evans23]

RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 22 - SHIVERING CERTAINTY [E2]

Pairing : Colonel Brandon x OC (Marie)

Summary : And if, finally, love could blossoms in the most unusual way ? And if, finally, Christopher didn’t really sacrifice himself ? And if, finally, both of them get exactly what they deserve ?

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Sadness. Loneliness. Abandon. Rumours. Harsh mother. Unwanted pregnancy.

WRONGFUL PERCEPTION : Part I

Also read on AO3 - Wattpad

At breakfast, Marie stared at her plate without much appetite. Brandon watched her furtively. Her round belly left no doubt: in a few months, they would be parents.

"Marie, is everything okay ?" Christopher asked, worried.

"I... I don't really know," she said without looking up.

"Are you scared ?"

"A little bit," she said, gripping her spoon a little tighter.

He reached out a cautious hand to place it on hers. She looked up at his big green eyes and found only tenderness.

"What if I'm not ready for it ?"

"You won't be alone. I'll be there. And we'll hire a governess," he tried to reassure her.

"But I don't want my baby to be raised by servants," she said softly, "I... I want to be a good mother," she confessed, looking down again.

"And you will be," Christopher affirmed, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

Marie gave him a small smile. She still wasn't entirely convinced that everything would be okay, but Christopher had this gift of making her feel calmer, safer. She still felt bad about imposing an illegitimate child on the Colonel, but he seemed sincerely invested. He never made her feel like a burden and if at first she had regretted their union, she accepted it more and more now.

Maybe, yes maybe if she gave him a chance, she could have a good life and even know love, the real one, the one that is born of deep feeling and not of a fleeting passion.

After breakfast, Marie went to get a shawl to go for a walk in the gardens. Christopher, who was busy in his greenhouse preparing the soil for the future roses that would bloom again in the spring, saw her pass by and decided to follow her discreetly.

As she arrived near an old oak tree, she stopped for a moment, her hand placed on her belly.

"Marie, is everything okay ?" Christopher asked as he approached slowly.

She turned around, a big smile on her lips. Without a word, she approached him and, to the Colonel's great surprise, she took his hand to place it on her belly.

Christopher's eyes widened when he felt small knocks against his hand. The baby was moving.

"Hello, little one," he whispered with emotion.

"Do you think it will be a little boy or a little girl ?" Marie asked as she placed her hand against Christopher's which was still resting on her round belly.

"It doesn't matter. It'll be a darling child," Christopher replied, fascinated by the movements he still felt under her large, firm hand.

Marie closed her eyes, a strong emotion pressing on her heart. She was torn, torn between what she had done, between what she was imposing on Christopher, and the feelings she had for him and the future that could be bright, if only she would agree to let him love her and her baby.

"Do you want to know ?" she asked suddenly.

"Know what ?" Christopher asked surprised.

"What happened. Who is the father."

"No, it's your story, it belongs to you."

"But I want to tell you," Marie whispered.

A gust of wind came to sweep the leaves all around, lifting Marie's dress slightly and revealing her ankles that were not covered by her woollen stockings. They were so swollen that she could no longer tolerate any fabric on her sensitive skin. That little glimpse of skin troubled Christopher more than he would have thought. He remembered his brother once telling him about one of his one-night stands when he was not yet engaged to Eliza that a woman's ankles were the most wonderful thing and Christopher, who had laughed at the time, was beginning to believe him.

"Let's go inside and take shelter. This wind could make you sick and now is not the time with the baby on the way," he said, holding out his arm to her.

She followed him into the living room where they sat down by the fire. A maid came to bring them tea and biscuits.

"At the end of February, I went to London, I..."

"Marie, you don't owe me an explanation. I already know that you met a man, that he cheated on you and left you," Christopher interrupted, "I don't need to know more."

"But I feel like I have to tell you everything," Marie said, struggling to hold back her tears.

"You don't owe me anything, Marie. I know what there is to know, I also know that you are strong and you are not alone. You are not anymore. I am here."

"I am sorry that I didn't love you right away, Christopher," she said in a breath, "I agreed to marry you for my father, to spare him after what I did to him, to spare him the shame of having a slut for a daughter."

"Don't you ever talk about yourself like that," Christopher scolded her, "you're not a slut! You're a young woman who was abused by a man without honour. I didn't love you right away either, Marie. I wanted to protect you, save your honour, but for me, this marriage has become much more than a formality," Christopher declared without taking his eyes off her.

"I think it's more than a formality for me too," Marie whispered, her eyes shining, "but I feel guilty."

"Don't be. Never. Forget all that, Marie. This child is a chance, a chance for true love for you and me. And it will be loved, darling. This child is my child, Marie. And you, you must free yourself from this guilt, from these memories that have broken you. Free yourself from the past that you can't erase and focus on our future together."

"Christopher," Marie whispered as she moved closer to him.

"If you had asked me to walk away, I would have, but not now, not now that you have confided all this to me. I know you were betrayed, but we're not all like that, Marie. Try to trust me."

She nodded softly, sitting down next to him. Christopher placed a hand against her cheek. Marie leaned against his palm, more serene than she had been since she'd discovered she was pregnant.

"You're so patient with me," she said, placing her hand against his, "so good."

"I'm yours, Marie. You have my loyalty, my protection, and my love. Unconditionally."

"And if we ever have a fight, will you blame me ?"

"Never ! I'm not like that, Marie. I would never blame you for making me fall in love with you. And I would never use our child against you. This is my baby, it is mine, mine and it will never have to know the truth, because the only truth is that I am the father," Christopher said firmly in a voice that left no room for contradiction.

Marie nodded with emotion, overwhelmed. She had not chosen this marriage, but this union that she had seen as a punishment could well be a blessing if she agreed to forgive herself.

Christopher took her gently in his arms and she let him do it, resting her head against his chest. He offered her stability, security and she felt happy.

Both were aware that there would be efforts to make, trials to overcome, but together, they would be stronger. Christopher was her new beginning, it was a shivering certainty.

"Let's be a family, a real family," she said, raising her head to look into the Colonel's hazel eyes.

"I would be more than happy."

That night, Marie asked Christopher for her permission to sleep with him, which he gladly accepted. That night was the first of many. She felt safe by his side and she loved that he would lay his head against her belly every night to tell their future baby about his adventures in India as their relationship slowly blossomed into respect and love.

"Christopher !"

Christopher woke with a start at the sound of Marie's voice.

"What's going on?" he asked, getting up to light a candle.

"The baby, it's coming," she said with a grimace.

Christopher noticed that the bed was wet. Her water had broken. He immediately called for the doctor and the housekeeper. The doctor arrived quickly with a midwife who told the Colonel to wait outside.

Christopher paced up and down the hallway, clenching his fists every time he heard Marie scream. Inside the room, the governess was wiping his forehead while the doctor, with the help of the midwife, worked to contain a slight haemorrhage.

"Christopher, I want Christopher," she gasped, her fingers clenched on the blood-stained sheets.

The governess went to get him. The poor man, his hands shaking, silently prayed that everything would be okay. He could not bear the loss, neither her nor the child. When the governess told him she was asking for him, he did not hesitate for a second to go back into the room.

"Christopher," Mary whispered when he saw him enter, "stay close to me. Stay."

He came to sit next to her and took her hand in his, squeezing it delicately.

"I'm here, Mary. I'm staying close to you."

He ran a damp cloth over her forehead before placing a kiss on it. In that moment of extraordinary intensity, he offered her the strength and calm she needed, a rock in the storm.

"The baby is coming," the midwife said, pressing a little on Marie's belly.

It took another two hours for the baby to decide to leave the comfort and security of her mother's womb. Marie was exhausted and had lost consciousness once, woken by Christopher who had patted her cheeks to bring her back to her while trying to control his own fear.

When a shrill cry rang out, Marie sighed with relief, a tired smile on her face. The doctor came to place the child in her arms and congratulated her. A little boy. He was tiny, fragile and so innocent. He didn't look premature either, but the doctor and midwife had seen other things and they knew it was not their place to judge or to tell anyone.

"Christopher, do you want to take your son ?" she asked without even realizing that she was crying with happiness.

Christopher took the child with an exaggerated bow, afraid of hurting him.

"Hello my little boy. My son," he said, looking at this little being so pure that he held in his arms.

"He is so beautiful," he said, smiling, "he is a true blessing."

"What do you want to name him ?" Marie asked, placing a hand on her son's head.

"It's up to you," he answered without looking away of the baby's face.

"No. You're his father, it's up to you to choose your son's name."

"What do you think of Thomas ? Thomas William Brandon ?"

"Thomas William Brandon," she repeated, "yes, I like it."

She looked at her husband tenderly, filled with an inner peace that seemed to erase the pain of her past. There was only love in her once-bruised heart and the shivering certainty that this family he was building, everything she had lived, lost, suffered, had led her to this man who was healing her.

"I love you, Christopher," she said as the midwife took their son away to be washed.

Christopher stared at her, his throat tight. He had believed for so long that he was unworthy of being loved, and now he had a family.

"I love you too Marie," he replied, stroking her damp hair, "and Merry Christmas," he added with a smile.

Two years later

Thomas walked awkwardly in the library, following his father who was putting away books. Thomas was a child full of energy who loved to be behind his father, his hero that he tried to imitate from the height of his two years.

Marie entered the room as Christopher who had just picked him up showed her a book containing pictures of exotic animals that he had seen in India. She walked forward, looking at them tenderly, to Brandon whom she hugged from behind, resting her head on his back.

"Don't give him the wrong idea," she said, caressing Thomas' cheek.

"Believe me my dear, as long as I live, our son will never enter the army."

He turned to place a light kiss on her forehead.

"How are you ?" he asked, placing a hand on her belly.

"I'm happy. But exhausted. I wish your child would let me sleep at night," she said, laughing softly.

"I hope it's a little girl," Christopher said, gently caressing the slightly rounded curve that already hinted at the arrival of a future baby in their home.

"A winter baby and a summer baby," Marie said, looking at Thomas who was fidgeting a little in Christopher's arms, demanding her attention.

"And it's all thanks to you, my son," Christopher said in a soft voice, "you're the one who made us a family."

Marie snuggled a little closer to him. On this Christmas Eve, she couldn't be happier. She had everything she had ever wanted and more. Christopher looked so beautiful with their son in his arms. Together, they had overcome so many obstacles and their love was only stronger, growing a little more each day. He was her strength and she was his.

Marie and Christopher had the shivering certainty that they had always been meant to be together and both thanked the heavens for having pushed destiny to bring them together. Neither of them had understood it right away, but they were soulmates. That was a certainty.

[ziggysarcana]

Shira turned to see him and smiled as she watched him take in the room, eyes lingering on every detail. She felt a warmth in her chest watching him and the way he always seemed to be appreciating her. There was something about the way that he looked at her, like she was something to be admired. Shira wanted to bask in the light of his admiring eye for as long as she could, forever even, but she didn’t want to be greedy. Her fingers fidgeted with her long sleeve, her eyes meeting his, “A reader?” She raised an eyebrow playfully, “I’m surprised it took you so long to ask me that, Mr. Addams.” Her shoulders gave a little shrug, her smile turning wry as she admitted “I used to be a bookworm back in the day, but I think life has a way of getting in the way of me doing things like that. Like, reading.” Her gaze flitted around the room and at the half-empty shelves lined with weathered books. “I hope this doesn’t make me sound pretentious but usually I like the classics,” She stepped towards one of the shelves and pulled from it the Brother’s Karamazov, her fingers running along the gold lettering on the front, “Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Homer... Not exactly light reading, but there’s something about the way that they capture the human condition… it feels like a truth you can’t find anywhere else.” A truth she couldn’t find anywhere else until she first laid eyes on Silas’ smile. A thought that made her set the book down and take a step closer to him, her heart still fluttering in her chest. The magnetic pull between them rendered her helpless to it, “But I did recently order one of yours on the web.” Another admission that left her blushing. There was a playful glint in her eye, and something more that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to put into words yet. Or maybe she was scared to. 

Shira couldn’t help herself but reach out and brush her fingers against his dress shirt, smoothing out the creases that her touch had left behind, “Thank you. I’m glad you like it, Silas,” she said quietly, ever present genuine smile on her lips, “It feels like home, I guess.” More so when you’re here, she wanted to add, but bit her tongue and said instead, “You’re welcome to come by any time you’d like..”  Her fingers absently brushing along his side before she forced her attention toward the photography equipment scattered in the room. She stepped away again, only to adjust the lighting of her softbox, angling it just right. Her hands were steady and methodological in their movements but her thoughts were far from what they were doing. As she set everything up, she kept glancing back at him, eyes shining as she watched the way he stood. Raw and uncomplicated. The more her eyes lingered, the more she realized how much he was affecting her; and it had nothing to do with a shot. She then motioned for him to stand in front of her makeshift backdrop of simple wallpaper hoisted to the wall, “You’re quite the subject, Silas,” she said with a grin, her eyes scanning him like she was already planning the perfect shot in her head, “I think you’re going to have to get used to being in front of the lens now that you have me.” 

Silas pushed his head into her hand as she brushed his hair behind his ear, making sure to appreciate her touch as much as he could. As she stepped away he felt regret for bringing it up, like he missed his chance for that to be his last memory. The promise of her continued presence is the only thing keeping him intact as she walked ahead of him. He took a small moment to gather his thoughts, as much as he loved Shira to fill his mind to the brim, he would be walking into every wall and bench in her house trying to keep his eyes on her. He looked over his now dishevelled clothing, a tie loosened, a shirt mostly untucked. His shirt held creases that matched her hand, his hair placed against the back of his ear but her fingers, the gloss on his smile imprinted by her lips. He looked like a mess, but he had never felt more comfortable. It was like he was a map of Shira's emotions, her desires, her trust. Silas grinned, and followed her through her house, not changing a single thing about how he is dressed.

Silas mind was branded by Shira's presence. His thoughts, while racing, all lingered on her. To go from one room to another gave him enough leeway to figure out more about her. "So... you much of a reader?" He asked, it was the first thing his mind thought of. He instinctively blushed after he asked, they had just made out and he is asking about her reading habits? He wouldn't have heard the end of it if Stoker heard his ask that. He waited for her response and glanced around her studio. While a bedroom is typically the most intimate room in a house, it can only tell you about a person's nights, whether they were full of activity or otherwise. A studio however, or a study, that's where you can find the real aspects of a persons life. A kitchen counter is kept clean to cook in, a desk is left disturbed so not to break up ones thought process. He looked for the little details, the type of pens she used, what equipment has more scratches than the other. His blatant examination of the room eventually lead his eyes back to Shira's, like they had some type of magnetic pull. "I really like your home." He smiled, unaware of if he had already said that, wanting only for her to know that he felt comfortable in her presence.

[kavehater]

Guys …. Should I ask for her discord

[lightseoul]

a/n. second time writing from bkg's perspective. this was so fun! (1.1k)

the moment that cemented bakugou’s resolve to marry you wasn’t exactly grand.

it wasn’t your first kiss.

or the first time you made love to each other.

not even the first time you met his nerd-ass friends or his (slightly) overbearing parents. although those two come as close runner-ups.

no, it was rather a random saturday morning after you spent a night at his place, now clad in what he thinks is nothing but your intimates and a burnt orange t-shirt of his that drapes loosely over your frame.

and as he enters the kitchen and closes the distance between the two of you with a few strides, he can’t help but wonder what you’re doing—deeply focused on your laptop—when you’re probably the one who’s extra pedantic about not bringing work home.

“morning,” he grunts, leaning down to kiss your cheek, which you happily accept. although, to his chagrin, your eyes remain on your computer screen, not even sparing him a single glance.

he knows it’s fucking embarrassing, how strongly you elicit feelings within him without you even fucking trying, but he can’t stop the frown that takes over his face even if he attempted to fight it.

shaking off the irrational disappointment from not even being ignored, he rounds the kitchen island and starts brewing the two of you coffee.

“by the way,” he starts, glancing at you over his shoulder, “the old hag’s birthday is coming up. she wants to have dinner with just the four of us, or some shit.”

“i know,” you simply pipe up from where you’re seated on one of his fancy bar stools, gaze still glued on whatever the fuck it is that’s keeping your attention from him.

he turns to you, a manual coffee grinder in tow. “you do?”

at that, you finally look up at him, an innocent expression etched across your features. “you don’t remember? i asked you when your parents’ birthdays were way back in march.”

way back in march.

back when you unanimously decided to decisively end the dating phase and become boyfriend-girlfriend.

“yeah?” is the only thing he manages to get out.

you let out a soft laugh that’s nothing but music to his ears. “yeah, dummy.”

before you can get to see the red that’s most definitely creeping up to his cheeks, bakugou turns his back against you, returning to busying himself with crushing the beans into fine powder and pouring lukewarm water into the machine.

only a few months before reaching a full year together, and you still manage to make him fucking blush.

over the most mundane things, too.

when he first got into his very first relationship with you at the ripe age of 28, he thought he’d outgrown and was way past the embarrassing shit that the human body was capable of when dealing with anything remotely close to romance.

it didn’t take him long enough into your relationship to find out he was so, so wrong.

sighing, he pours out the cup of ground beans onto the filter, finally pressing the button and bringing the coffee maker to life.

you must be done with what’s highly likely is work by now.

but chancing a glance at you, he’s once again met with palpable disappointment when the very same sight greets him.

before he can rein them in, the words come tumbling out of his lips.

“the fuck is so important on that laptop?”

his booming voice must’ve caught you off guard, because you startle ever so minutely in your seat.

“sorry,” he quickly adds on, albeit through a mutter; frustration with himself and his inability to modulate his voice added to the increasingly long list of emotions he’s having to fucking deal with right now.

waving him off, you shoot him another one of that disarming smile of yours. “‘s funny that you ask. i was just about to ask you for your opinion.”

with that, you gesture him to come close with your fingers. curious, he once again rounds the island, ultimately occupying the spot to your right and leaning down to peer at the small text on your screen.

before he can even get a word in, you hurriedly explain yourself. “mitsuki-san mentioned her personal sewing machine broke, so i’ve been thinking about getting her a new one.”

you point to a sleek, off-white model among what looks to be a vast array of selections, “i researched the specs and i think this one’s the best. what do you think?”

a million things course through his mind in an instant, but what he ends up sputtering out is: “you’re such a fucking nerd, you know that?”

at that, you look up at him, your seemingly perpetually moisturized lips now formed into a playful pout, and it takes everything in him not to just pull you in for a kiss and completely abandon the conversation in its entirety.

but he’d like to think he at least has the slightest bit of self-control.

even if you do wear him the fuck out on a daily basis.

“i just want to make sure it’s perfect!” you argue, shifting to stare at your laptop again and bringing him back to the present. your voice is way smaller when you continue. “…i want her to like me.”

he doesn’t even miss a beat. “she already fucking does, dumbass.”

and she really does.

the morning after bakugou first brought you to meet his parents a whopping two months into calling it official, mitsuki texted him something along the lines of having the family heirloom slash ring already adjusted to fit your finger.

he immediately called the old hag after receiving the message just to reprimand her ear off for being too fucking forward and for meddling too much.

but, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was angry not because mitsuki was imposing, but because he couldn’t believe his mother beat him to that important realization.

the realization that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one.

and now, as he studies you as you scroll through more and more iterations of the best sewing machines on the market with your eyebrows adorably furrowed in utmost concentration, it dawns on him.

it dawns on him that that maybe just turned into a definitely.

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon

˖⁺‧₊ this one made me smile like an idiot while writing lmao. as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[inupibaldspot]

Walk him like a dog

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : The first year trio are watching Gojo who is completely head over heels for you.

To the world, Gojo Satoru is the strongest but to the people who know him Gojo Satoru is a menace.

When he was in high school, he was a different breed. Yaga could not sleep at times from all the stress Gojo would cause; be it either an earful from the higher ups or checking the news only to find out there had been an explosion conveniently where Gojo’s mission was assigned.

Sometimes he would get pictured sent to him by the problem student himself, a picture with a beaten up enemy and Gojo winking at the camera with a note saying ‘Yay~ another victory! I mean it’s as normal as breathing for me (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ’

Even when Yaga would use his authority and lecture him, sometimes Gojo Satoru would not listen; be it simply ignoring or rebutting it with his opinion— an opinion no one asks for.

And when that happens, Yaga would pull out his secret weapon ‘You’! He didn’t use this card all the time but at time Gojo was simply so uncooperative, he had to! Any word coming from you would be listened to by him as if it were law. Right now, at the age of 28 he seemed to have matured- no stopped acting as childish and Yaga didn’t have to rely on you so often.

That same Yaga watches from the window at his new first years— Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi— behind a bush, hiding peeking over to you and Gojo who were on a bench.

“Ah…” Kugisaki sweat dropped at the pair. “Gojo-sensei is so smitten.” She said observing at how you were simply reading a book, as Gojo yaps away but one thing very obvious was the gentle look he gave you.

When you finally looked Gojo’s way, their white haired teacher suddenly stops, they notice a faint blush peeping under his blindfolds and when he does starts talking he stammers. THE Gojo Satoru was stammering, biting his tongue simply because you were looking at him.

“Kugisaki, let’s leave.” Itadori covers his eyes, his right eye peeps through the cracks of his fingers. “Sensei is doing such a bad job at flirting with y/n, I’m getting embarrassed.”

Kugisaki lifts her hands and grabs the collar of Itadori’s and starts shaking it. “This is the closest we’re getting to romance in this school and I want to be the witness.” She grits her teeth.

Just then Nanami walks along the path, making the pair look over. You smile as you call out. “Nanami-kun.”

Nanami stops and waits as you stand from your bench, walking over to greet him. The students stare; as soon as you got off the bench and walks Gojo follows suit not even a millisecond later.

Kugisaki cringes. “He is like a puppy…”

They could vaguely hear Gojo start to make fun of Nanami, but when you think his ‘joke’ was a slight bit too harsh; they watch you give Gojo a side eye and almost immediately their teacher shuts up.

‘y/n has the strongest sorcerer at the palm of their hands .’ Kugisaki and Itadori collectively thought.

Before Kugisaki could comment she senses a small wet feeling on her forehead, then another and then she was drowning in it. Suddenly it started raining.

“Geh. Let’s get out of here.” Kugisaki says as she quickly brought her hands up to cover her bangs. “I don’t want my hair to frizz up.”

Itadori and Fushiguro follows her lead as they walk away to the nearby building and when they did reach shelter, Kugisaki quickly turns around to check on their teacher and you, a fellow sorcerer.

Her mouth drops slightly taking in the situation at hand, Nanami was no where in sight. She assumes he left because of the rain too.

But that wasn’t the focus.

Her eyes were focused on Gojo and you, holding hands smiling fondly at each other, she also noted that he was using ‘Infinity’ to not get wet from the rain.

Gojo laughs as he raises one of your hands high which makes you let out laugh, but complies as you proceed to twirl. As soon as you make two twirls, their teacher places his hands on your face as his leans down, his lips on yours.

Kugisaki and Itadori squeal and blushes at the intimate scene infront of them, jumping. “Sensei, finally did it! He kissed y/n—!” Itadori smiles.

They watch you smile into the kiss and you bring your hands up behind his neck, slowly trailing them into his hair, deepening the kiss.

“I’m so happy,Kugisaki.” Itadori wipes his tears with the back of his hands, extremely happy for his teacher’s happiness and success in his love life.

“I don’t know why you guys are making such a fuss.” Fushiguro finally decides to add into the antics of his classmates.

“Huh?” Kugisaki quickly turns and glares at the dark haired man. ”Is your heart made of stone or something,Fushiguro?”

“Yeah! I heard Gojo-sensei basically raised you.” Itadori chirps in. “You should be more happy for him.”

Kugisaki nods in agreement.

“I mean…” Fushiguro sighs as his hands are up massaging his temple, mentally preparing for the outburst to come.

“They’re married…”

“Ehhhhh???”

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