#she is back to being a lead in her own show!!

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

Barbara calls Damian-Robin her “little brother”. I’m not using a version of Barbara Gordon that has a romantic relationship with Bruce.

That being said, reincarnating into different bodies probably messes with a lot of things, not just family structure.

//-\\-//-\\

Barbara Gordon knows she’s strange, even before the memories come in.

She’s incredibly smart for her age. She’s enrolled in a class for gifted children, and even then she learns quickly and easily. She’s incredibly advanced for her age. It’s as though she already knows everything the teachers tell her. She’s best at science and math, but she has skills in other places. The first time that she opens a book on Psychology, she feels as though she’s already read it dozens of times.

She learns to hide her intelligence once certain people take notice and start questioning things. After all, no human should be able to do calculus at eight years old, so it’s no wonder a few conspiracy theorists tried to kidnap her…

Barbara Gordon learns how to hack, how to hide her presence, how to use a computer with the same ease she learns everything. Somewhere in her mind, she already knew it.

She learns to run, to evade, to fight back in case a few weirdos try to kidnap her again.

Few things actually feel new to her, but when they are new, it feels wonderful.

She becomes obsessed with reading mystery novels. Sometimes she can predict the ends, but most times she’s on the edge of her seat trying to figure it out.

She has a strange relationship with the idea of Bruce Wayne. He’s a local celebrity, but something about the guy always feels fake to Barbara. She gets the feeling that he’s hiding something, but doesn’t have any proof. At the same time, he feels familiar. It’s comfortable to hear that he’s doing well.

And then there’s Batman.

She loves the local hero. She wants him to be safe, she wants to help him, she feels like she belongs at his side.

It’s completely irrational. No one would let a child out on the streets of Gotham. The thought of someone so young fighting crime makes her tense.

No one except Batman, apparently, because only a few months later, Robin shows up in a yellow cape and elf boots.

Thus, Batgirl makes her debut. If she can take out the nastier criminals, that means Robin doesn’t have to deal with them.

Fighting crime comes as easily as the rest of things- it’s a skill that she feels she’s learned before, and is relearning. Occasionally, she reaches for a gun that doesn’t exist. She tries out pistols at the shooting range at the police station, but none of them feel right.

She sticks to her makeshift Batarangs. Making her own equipment is the perfect blend of familiar and not-familiar. She learns the fundamentals of engineering with ease, then applies them with a bit of trouble. It’s thrilling to learn how to make a grappling hook from scratch, while not having to work too hard to master the physics behind it.

She meets Batman. Instantly, she feels oddly protective of the man, as though she’s supposed to be looking out for him, not the other way around. It’s difficult to express this idea when he constantly beats her at sparring.

Still, she’s better than him when it comes to technology, and she outclasses him by far when it comes to psychology.

She takes on Robin as a bit of a little-brother figure. Something about the role feels natural to Barbara.

This leads her to learning the identities of Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. It leads to her becoming their unofficial family member.

She loves Alfred. She cries the first time she meets him, but she doesn’t know why.

Then, she starts strange dreams. Dreams of being a different person: taller, thinner, less muscular. Faces and names are blurs, but are becoming clearer over time.

What’s weird about these dreams, is that many of them are true. She can remember the grand opening of a factory, smiling next to a man she thinks of as her husband, then watching the CEO of a shipping company fall off a stage. The event, as Barbara found out with some digging, was televised.

It actually happened. Arthur McKinley fell off the stage. His stupid green suit is exactly the same as she remembers it.

Some memories- if that’s what these are-aren’t provable, or might be false. She remembers seeing technology that doesn’t exist, a land with a green sky, dancing with a pirate, riding a dinosaur, hundreds of little things that never happened, probably could never happen.

She doesnt tell Bruce. She doesn’t want to worry him with her problems. Something about that logic feels familiar yet again.

Barbara isn’t interested in romance. The guys her age feel really immature. In her dreams, she’s married. She feels romantic love.

She’s never felt that outside of a dream.

Then she dreams of a little baby named Bruce, and she knows just whose memories she’s been getting.

Zatanna Zatara ends up explaining things to her. She’s a reincarnation. Over time, her memories will continue to come in, and her personality will start to blend with past versions of herself.

It’s odd. Some days her body feels entirely wrong. She looks in the mirror and sees a stranger. She writes down the wrong name on a test at school, gets questions on history tests wrong.

It adds up. Eventually, she tells Bruce.

The conversation is long, and full of tears. Bruce learns he doesn’t exactly have his mom back- Barbara isn’t exactly the same. Time has changed them both.

Martha was Bruce’s mom, and Barbara could never be that for him. Bruce isn’t a child anymore, Barbara reading him a story before bed wouldn’t feel the same.

Even after gaining Martha’s memories, Barbara is still different. She doesn’t understand the mechanics of reincarnation, so she doesn’t know why. She just knows she has separate tastes and interests, she has different opinions, she has different quirks and traits.

Then Barbara remembers a summoning ritual- one for the king of ghosts.

Before long, she’s smiling at the Ghost King, reunited once more.

“Hey Danny.” She says.

“Hi, Jazz.”

Royal Bats

DP x DC Prompt

Danny and Jazz always were together in life, and they would remain together as siblings whenever Jazz would reincarnate as a mortal again.

Jazz reincarnated a lot, wanting to experience the different things in those dimensions she chose with a fresh start and no memories. She had many adventures in her new lives, with Danny beside her as her 'Imaginary Friend' whenever she was a kid and her 'Guardian Angel' during the rest of her lives.

This new life she has reincarnated in has her living as a rich woman with a loving husband and a kid. The first time he's seen her have one in her many lives. He couldn't save Jazz or her husband's lives because of Clockwork, who had sent him on a small mission related to time.

When he returned to the dimension with Jazz's new life, he arrived at the funeral for Thomas and Martha Wayne, with their Ghosts behind Bruce. Martha, or Jazz again, had embraced Danny in a hug and told Thomas the basics of who Danny was to her, but before they left, Jazz left some parting words to Danny.

"Look after my son, little brother. Protect him like you how you protect me."

So Danny does. He follows Bruce around while he's training to become Batman. And when Bruce returns to Gotham to be Batman, he helps him with Lady Gotham. With each kid Bruce brings into his family, Danny duplicates himself to help each of them.

Danny had killed the Joker after his resurrection by Bruce when the Clown was alone. He couldn't do it while the Joker was living, as he needed to follow the rules, or else he would have had more paperwork to sort through.

Danny had been telling Jazz and Thomas about their son and what he's been doing about his feats, his children, and his friends. They did support Danny's decisions on killing the Joker. He felt a tug on his core, the tug that happens when he is being summoned, so he quickly said his goodbyes to Jazz and Thomas and accepts the summoning.

What shocks him is seeing that he's in the Watchtower, with the Justice League there, including Bruce and his children. All of his seriousness is drained out of him, and he smiles at Bruce and his family.

"My nephew, it is good to finally speak to you"

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

I've been thinking a lot about Wanda as your Dominant ♡

She's very strict, but not in a mean way. After all, you thrive off of discipline, so her expectations are clear and you enjoy following them. Of course, she enjoys correcting you if you break her rules or deliberately disobey them.

She displays lots of subtle shows of dominance. Her hand on your thigh, or around your waist, and occasionally on the back of your neck as a warning if you're really acting up. Always ordering for you, or taking the lead in public, her hand firmly wrapped around yours.

She's very gentle when she knows you need it, but she's also perfectly content with being rough with you. On the days that you can tell she needs a more relaxed, gentle night, you resist any urges to brat out, telling her how much you love her as she sweetly dominates you. Of course you also beg to make her feel good, for her to use you however she needs to make herself feel good.

Again, I love subtle collars. She would get you one in the form of a permanent necklace in whatever metal you prefer, wearing a matching permanent bracelet on her left wrist. You love being owned by her, and she loves being able to call you wholly hers.

You love to eat her out for hours at a leisurely pace, either while she's working or reading a book or watching a movie. You love the way her hand gently rests on your head, her fingers scratching slightly as she makes small sounds of pleasure, her neck flushed by the time she orders you to make her cum.

I need a dominant girlfriend like right now, I'm going insane ♡

[itsgivingmami]

Heyy I was wondering if you could maybe write Rhea Ripley having a famous girlfriend?

Like they would talk about each other in interviews and such…

Love!! Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the request💛

The Public Eye- Rhea Ripley

Rheas leg bounces impatiently behind the conference table, the lights in the room feel altogether too bright and if she has to answer another dumb question from someone who doesn’t even watch the content they produce she might launch over the table at them.

“So Rhea,” she takes a deep breath and looks to where a man in a poorly fitted button down has a hand up, “how are you going to celebrate your win tonight?” She pretends to contemplate but she has a plan and is getting more and more antsy to get there.

“I have a date,” she boasts and the room erupts as people question her who it is and where shes going. She grins cheekily as she stands from the folding chair and makes her way behind the curtain. Her belt thrown over her shoulder she walks down the halls smugly, pausing for a moment as her phone buzzes in the waist band of her gear.

Babygirl: is it really a date if we’re just going to watch horror movies on the couch?

~

She racks her weights and turns back to her phone, hearts and text filling the screen as her fans watch her live workout. Compliments about her tattoos, questions about the dogs and plain old thirst commentary. She smiles at the depravity of her fans and answers a couple questions.

“What did I do this weekend?” She repeats and hums, “I took my girl to set Saturday morning, cleaned the house and then picked her up, we both had the day off Sunday,”

Her chat starts scrolling faster as her viewers start discussing you. Talking about your last movie or how cute the two of you are together.

“She’s your favourite actor?” Rhea chuckles and quickly double checks around her as if she weren’t home alone, she leans in close to the camera to whisper, “mine too,”

~

The flashes are blinding as you smile looking at them before turning to look at Rhea. Head to toe in a three piece black suit you regret picking out, she’s far too tempting in it. She’s got a firm arm around your waist but you suspect it’s more for her own comfort than yours. She had been on red carpets before but not nearly as many as you and being the lead in the film you were currently at the premiere for you hadn’t had half a second to breathe.

“You’re sure you want to come?” You ask her as you toss a couple dresses onto the bed next to her. It’s not that you don’t want her too, in-fact, you’d love nothing more than an opportunity to show her off but even you got overwhelmed by them sometimes. She reaches for your waist and pulls you between her legs as she stares up at you, your concerned expression makes her grin at you.

“Mhm,” she hums and you run a hand over her hair, “I wanna support my baby,” she tells you honestly and you lean down to kiss her. The emotion rushes over you in waves, feeling incredibly lucky to have the woman in front of you.

~

“Congratulations on the success of your new film,” the interviewer says to you and you smile at her. “It really is a beautiful piece of work,”

“Thank you that’s so kind,” you adjust in your chair, gently pulling your skirt down a little further.

“Of course,” she smiles again and looks down to her notes, “you can tell you put a lot of emotion and really felt your character that must’ve been difficult,”

“It can be,” you confess, some days it was harder to break character and return from that dark place, “but I have a really great support system,” you explain and the interviewer listens attentively, a nice reprieve from the shallow ones.

“You have a partner right?” She questions and you feel your heart flutter, a feeling that had never really stopped despite being together months now.

“Rhea,” you fill in for her, “she’s incredible and she understands the whole fame side of things, I’m so lucky to call her mine,”

~

“Got somewhere to be?” Damian’s question makes Rhea look away from the wall clock and he tries to stretch out his quads.

“No I just want to make sure I’m available, just in case,” she explains and Damian’s furrows his brows in confusion.

“Available for wh-“ the loud ringer of Rheas phone cuts him off and she sprints towards the corner of the practice ring. She accepts your FaceTime and she’s greeted by your teary eyes and your hand over your mouth.

“Hi love,” she greets, ready to tell Damian she needs to go until your hand falls and she sees the smile gracing your lips.

“Four nominations,” you mutter to her still in disbelief, you had hung up on your agent moments ago once she told you the news to call Rhea.

“Four,” Rhea repeats and you nod before she squats down and throws her hand over her mouth, you giggle realising she’s picking up on your habits. “FOUR OSCAR NOMINATIONS!”

You giggle at her and sigh happily, allowing some of the stress you’d been holding waiting for that call to leave you as you fall back on the couch. Rhea watches you in pure admiration, proud of you beyond explanation and relieved to see your skills be valued how they should. Some partners might see it as a threat, to date someone so famous but to her it only adds a layer of connection between you too.

Damian wanders away to chat with someone as he hears you and Rhea, the latter completely forgetting about his existence. He can’t complain, not when his best friend has clearly found the love of her life.

a/n: quick shout out to @possessedmagpie for the help brainstorming, go check out their book!

[the-thing-withfeathers]

high up | cowgirl!madison beer

fluff, & smut.

a/n: hello again my loves 🥰 i’ve missed you all. i’m sorry for being gone so long but i’m back and better than ever. hopefully this suffices as an apology for leaving you all for a bit.

‼️smut warnings: semi-public sex, strap on usage, hair pulling, rough sex, slight degradation & humiliation.

𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗

a whole year had passed since you set foot on the farm. since you and madison met and started your whirlwind romance. a whole year and you were the happiest you’d ever been.

while you celebrated the exact one year marker with your grandparents, feasting over your grandmother’s chili, madison had suggested you two spend your one year together back in the city.

initially, you were reluctant to go. all your favorite spots were in the country. everywhere you and mads had spent making memories rested in the peace of the farm.

but she was persistent, and you knew your girlfriend wouldn’t relent. she argued that you spent a whole year learning the ins and outs of her biome. it was time for her to learn more about your roots too.

so the two of you found yourselves in madison’s truck, pulling into the parking of your condominium. you two had done the trip yourselves despite your parents offering, but you wanted the insurance of madison’s truck around in case she needed to get back.

your parents had been out working when the two of you arrived. you unlocked the front door to your penthouse apartment, welcoming madison into your home.

as madison stepped in, she marvelled at the space the penthouse offered. she knew your family had money, but now she was seeing it.

she was greeted with marble floors leading into carpeted ones depending on where you went and a massive living room with tall windows that looked like they could go on for miles.

you went to put your stuff in your room but she was left stunned. you poked your head back out to check on her and smiled at the sight of her mouth agape.

“like what you see?” you teased her, bringing her out of her daze.

“i’ve never been this high off the ground before. we’re practically in the clouds!” she exclaimed, taking her hat off.

you stepped closer to her and took her hat from her, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards your room, walking backwards. you held a mischievous smirk on your face, one she knew too well.

when you opened the door to your room, you giggled at her face. your room had a wide rectangular window that covered the entire wall, overlooking the city below.

your room was… so you, madison thought. it was littered with small trinkets that she found adorable. the wallpaper was your favorite color, she started to grow fonder of it when she learned how much you loved it.

she stepped closer to your vanity mirror, admiring the photos that were attached to it. photos of you and your friends, photos of you and your parents. even a few baby pictures. she was deep in thought again, but you were quick to make sure she didn’t get too absorbed by her own mind.

“hey.” you said, practically barking a little at her. she quickly spun around, catching the tail end of you dropping your dress for it to pool at your feet.

you opted for comfort on the drive, which meant wearing this dress that drove madison crazy. it was loose on you but still showed your figure off perfectly. but she enjoyed it off just as much.

“did you wanna get a closer look at this window?” you side eyed the window while madison reached for her bag.

“hell yeah i do.” she whipped out the strap-on like she had x-ray vision and knew exactly where it was.

she threw the strap-on onto the bed for the meantime, walking closer to you and capturing your lips in a kiss with many words. she missed you while on that drive, having to focus on the drive.

you were the object of her affection, she could never go for very long without trying to show her love for you.

she pulled you closer by your waist, stepping forward and backing you up until your ass and back were against the cold glass of the window. you squealed a little, the chill sending goosebumps across your skin. she swallowed every noise you made.

you unbuttoned madison’s shirt, pushing it off and yanking it until it untucked from her jeans. you made quick work of her belt, pulling it off in one swift motion and getting her jeans off. she pulled away to put the strap on around her hips.

you watched her with your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving her body. no matter how many times you’d seen her naked, you found her absolutely flawless.

she got close to you again, her chest pressing against yours as she kissed you. you felt her fingers slip between your drenched folds, a smile plastered across her face.

“so wet already baby, we just got here!” she snickered and dropped to her knees, lifting one of your legs to rest on her shoulder. she buried her tongue between your folds, your breath hitching as an immediate reaction.

despite being out of her comfort zone, madison felt good with you. being so high up in the clouds with the bustling city beneath you both, it worried her a little bit. but her heart beat for you, and in turn you promised to make yourself a safe place for her with your legs wrapped around her head.

“shit!” your body jolted as her lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and flicking with her tongue. she slipped a finger into you as your head fell back against the glass.

she knew how to work you perfectly, being alone on the farm gave you two a lot of privacy to get to know each other on an intimate level. a hand of hers ran up your body, squeezing one of your tits, the mix of stimulation caused your head to spin.

you’d missed her like this, it wasn’t going to take long until…

“mads… mads…” you tapped the top of her head. “i don’t wanna cum yet.” you warned, not wanting to get too tired yet. you were both exhausted from the drive but refused to hold yourselves back from intimacy.

“okay, princess. want me to fuck you then?” she asked, her southern drawl felt more prominent when she was out of her natural habitat.

“please…” you begged. she nodded and quickly spun you, your hands pressing against the glass window. she pushed you forward, your tits and face against the glass now too.

“c’mon, baby. be good for me. show them how good i fuck you.” she said, slowly inserting the 8-inch silicone dick into you. you whined at the intrusion, trying to find something to grasp onto. your efforts were futile as all there was in your reach was the window pane.

madison started slow, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. in truth, this was turning you on so much that you wouldn’t have cared. looking down at the city below, knowing madison would have no problem fucking you on the sidewalk if you asked.

she wanted them to know that she would fuck you better than anyone could. she wanted you to know that your pussy was eternally hers and hers only.

“you’re being so good for me.” she grunted in your ear, pressing her chest against your back as her fist circled in your hair, tugging softly. “want everyone to know how good i make you feel. i make you feel good, don’t i?”

“yeah! yeah… mads, right there! fuck! don’t fucking stop!” you cried out, gasping for air. her sneaky fingers made their way to your cunt again, rubbing quick circles around your clit.

your eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure getting to you. madison was now thrusting harder into you, hitting that spongy spot that made you see stars.

“don’t you wanna cum for me, darlin’? wanna see you cum on my cock.” she whispered into your ear, peppering kisses on your back.

madison’s verbal encouragement was enough to push you over the edge, slick juices coating her strap as you reached your orgasm.

“ah! fuck!” you called out as you came on her cock and fingers, you heaved as your body relaxed.

madison wasn’t done yet though.

she spun you back around and pushed you to your knees, pushing the tip of the strap against your lips. you eagerly took it in your mouth, sucking your cum off as madison watched you.

you caught as her stomach flexed, knowing the friction of the strap against her own wetness would be enough to finish her off too. you bobbed your head at a rapid pace to assist her in reaching her own orgasm.

“yeah, baby. i love the way you take me in your mouth.” she leaned forward. her hand pressed up against the glass as she towered over you, tryung to keep herself stable. “keep going, princess.”

her breathing got shaky as she commanded you, your hands got thrown into the mix to help jerk her off, rubbing at the places your throat couldn’t reach.

“that’s it, baby. doin’ so fuckin— ah!” she groaned softly, reaching her peak. her legs shaking a little while she released all over the strap on.

she paused for a second, you backed off and helped her take it off, letting the dildo drop to the floor. you stood and grabbed her hand again, walking her to the bed.

you gently pushed her down onto the mattress and she moaned at the touch.

“holy shit, this bed is so comfy.” she adjusts her position so you can take your place on her chest. you put your head on her and kissed her gently.

“you’re comfy.”

𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗𐚁 𓃗

a/n: heyyy… i know this was a short one but i fully intend for a part 2 to this madison in the city era. it’ll be a bit longer cause there will be a proper storyline but i wanted to post something to let you all know i was still around. sooo much love. i adore you all.

[lafortezaboy]

I'd like to request a little bit of angst if you're comfortable writing something like this!

Could I request Sophia, Daniela and/or Manon finding out that reader was in some accident that sent them to the hospital, before or after they go on stage, and then rushing to go see them

of course angel! i chose sophia for this because it felt like a prompt meant for her, but i honestly feel like they'd all react fairly similarly and rush to the reader's side.

triggers / warnings: car accidents, hospitals, mentions of light blood / injury, jokes about the car crash you were just in, a suggestive joke made at the end

there had been only a little bit of annoyance festering inside of sophia, as she scanned the front row and didn't find you. this show wasn't a big one, but between traveling and your own busy schedule, it had been the first you were able to attend. the disappointment of you missing it – of you forgetting, or getting distracted by something else, it caused her to feel alone, unimportant. things you had never made her feel before.

it was only when she was finally off stage that she was able to find out the truth. she and your mom had bonded quickly, especially with her being so far from her own and your mom welcoming her into the family upon meeting her. it wasn't uncommon for your mom to call her, but the multiple missed calls clued sophia in quickly that something was wrong. she read the text your mom had sent her, and the second she read it, she felt the blood in her veins run cold.

hi sweetie, y/n was in a car accident. they asked me to let you know, their phone was damaged in the accident.

the follow up text with the name hospital you were in was all sophia needed to rush out, but the girls saw how quickly her mood had shifted, and manon had been the one to get sophia to calm down long enough to explain. worry immediately filled them all, but they remained as calm as they could for sophia, knowing panicking would only make her panic more. she changed out of her performance attire quickly, and hopped in the car with megan, knowing she'd get her there the fastest. a quick text was sent to your mom, saying that sophia was on her way.

as soon as she stepped into the lobby, she spotted your mom waiting for her. the two of them met halfway, your mom taking her hand and leading her through the hospital to get to your room. as soon as the two of them stepped into your room, sophia felt that annoyance she had felt quickly turn into guilt.

tears welled in her eyes at the sight of you – little cuts and bruises littered across your face, one arm bandaged and in a sling, small specks of blood dotted around your shirt. what caught her eyes the most was the stitches that went across your cheek. noticing her eyes taking in the sight of you, you gave a tired smile, holding your hand out to her. "it's okay, baby."

your words were her breaking point, and almost immediately she was knelt beside your bed, arms wrapping around you as gently as she could, face buried in your neck as she let her tears fall. your uninjured arm wrapped around her, hand coming up to stroke her hair as you let her cry. at the sight of you two, your mom silently stepped out of the room, giving you some privacy as sophia sobbed into your neck.

"i'm so sorry," she spoke in between gasps for breath, and you frowned then, hand stilling in her hair. maybe it was just the fact that your head still hurt, but you couldn't understand what she could be apologizing for. "why, soph? it's not like you're the one who hit me."

she pulled back enough to look at you, but she avoided your eyes, hands picking at a loose thread on her shirt. you noticed it was one of yours, an old band shirt she had to have dug out of your closet, and the sight made you smile. but she was clearly upset, and you didn't focus on that long. gently, your fingers took her chin in them, and you lifted her face up to meet your eyes. "baby, talk to me? what's wrong?"

she let out a shaky breath, but didn't look away completely and you took that as a good sign. "well i . . . when you didn't show up, i thought that . . . that maybe you missed the show on purpose. i was – baby i was upset with you, and you got hurt on the way to my show. if you just stayed home, you wouldn't even be here." it took a second for the words to sink in, but as soon as they did, your hand moved, cupping her cheek as you met her eyes again.

"hey, you didn't know. there's no way you could've known until after you were off stage, you know that," you said, thumb stroking over her cheek gently. her hand came up to cover yours, and after a moment she pulled it down, letting her lips press against the back of your hand. "you don't have anything to be sorry for, you didn't know, and this wasn't your fault. someone would've gotten hit at that stop sign, no matter what. it just happened to be me because i got bad luck. not because my girlfriend forced me to be on the road."

your reassurances helped some, but the guilt was still there, and sophia knew it would be for a while. and you did too, so you tugged on her hand, trying to get her to join you in the bed. immediately she tried to deny you, but you ignored that, tugging again. begrudgingly almost, she sat beside you, and you sat up a little straighter, moving so you could rest your forehead on her shoulder. "whatever blame you're putting on yourself, i forgive you. and i love you, and i feel like i just got hit by a truck, which i did, so i need cuddles. and maybe you in a nurse outfit thrown in there too."

that got a little laugh out of her, and she pulled back to meet your eyes, hand squeezing yours gently. "this bed's way too small for both of us, and i'm not making any promises on the nurse outfit," she said. "but how about we get you home, and i'll give you all the cuddles you want?"

[yassbishimvintage]

Hold Me Close

Warnings: Smut, Fluffy fluff, Mentions of Loss.

Word Count: 9.6k

MDNI! Read at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

A/N: I got a little carried away with this but I hope y'all like it. And thank y'all for the love and support.

Today was the day he was coming back from Shelby Springs. He told her bits and pieces of the story, but the one that she knew hurt the most was that he lost Mike. His cousin that he loved like a brother. 

When he gets home Imani sees the truck he was supposed to buy with his cousin. She rushes outside. “Babe! Babe!” She says to him as he pulls in the driveway. 

He looked broken. When he steps out the truck she notices his arms has bruises and he has a hospital band on his arm. “T? What happened?” She asks. “Too much to talk about, I just want you.” He says wrapping her in a hug.

He’s clearly overwhelmed by everything, and in this moment, he’s seeking solace and comfort from Imani rather than diving into the details. His hug is a way of finding temporary escape from the chaos, a need for closeness and reassurance in the face of everything that’s happened.

Imani felt the weight of his pain in that moment, understanding that he’s not ready to share everything yet, but also feeling the need to be there for him—whether that means offering support or giving him space to heal.

She nods and leads him into their house. He looks around their kitchen. Thanks to the Vet loan that helped them build their house. This was something he gifted her after he got out the Marines. She sits him down in the kitchen to tend to his wounds. 

As Terry looks around, the weight of the moment might hit him. This house is a reflection of the life they both wanted, and now, with everything that has happened, it might feel like a bittersweet reminder of what was supposed to be. Imani leading him to the kitchen shows her nurturing side—she’s not just comforting him emotionally but making sure he’s physically okay as well.

Once seated, there’s a quiet intimacy to this moment. Imani is probably waiting for him to open up at his own pace, giving him the space to breathe and gather himself. She might be worried but is likely holding off on asking too many questions, understanding that Terry needs time to process.

Imani’s soft, reassuring words—“You know you can talk when you’re ready, baby”—are exactly the kind of support Terry needs in this moment. She’s offering him a safe space to open up without pressure, letting him know that she’s there for him whenever he’s ready to share. Her tone is lsoothing, a reminder that she’s not going anywhere, and that he doesn’t have to face this burden alone.

Terry’s response, “I know,” in a voice barely above a whisper, shows just how much he’s holding inside. There’s an acknowledgment that he’s aware of Imani’s support, but he’s not ready to fully open up just yet. His whisper suggests the emotional weight is still too heavy for him to voice out loud. It’s clear that Terry feels the depth of the situation, and even though he appreciates Imani’s presence, he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

In this quiet exchange, there’s an understanding between them: Terry needs time, but he also knows that when he’s ready, Imani will be there to listen. The moment feels fragile but intimate, as if both are waiting for the right time for Terry to truly open up.

After patching him up, Imani sitting with Terry in silence speaks volumes about her understanding of what he needs in that moment. She doesn't try to force conversation; instead, she lets the silence settle between them, providing the space he needs to process everything. Her quiet presence speaks to her deep respect for his emotional state—she knows that sometimes, words aren't necessary. Just being there is enough.

For Terry, the silence may feel heavy at first, but it could also provide a comforting sense of relief. Being with Imani, without pressure, allows him to start grappling with his emotions in a way that feels safe. It’s as though she’s telling him that he doesn’t have to have it all figured out right now.

Terry’s quiet request, “Baby. Can you just come to bed with me?” feels like a longing for comfort and closeness rather than anything more. It’s a subtle but powerful way for him to ask for her support—he doesn’t need to talk, he just needs to be near her, to find some sense of peace in her presence after everything that’s happened.

Imani nodding without hesitation is a silent affirmation that she’s there for him, ready to be the steady presence he needs. It shows her understanding that sometimes the best way to heal is to simply be with someone, no words necessary.

As they head to bed together, the atmosphere could shift into something more tender. There’s no pressure for conversation or for Terry to reveal everything. The act of simply being together in bed could be a safe haven for both of them, a shared space to heal, even in silence.

Whenever something heavy was on his mind he would be the little spoon to her. Him being 6’3 and her being 5’2 was a stark contrast. When they got in bed he rested his head on her chest while he wrapped his arms around her. 

Imani’s gentle touch, tracing circles on Terry’s bare back, is a soothing and intimate gesture. It’s her way of grounding him without the need for words—showing her support through the simple act of physical comfort. Feeling his breathing, steady and deep, might allow her to sense that, while he’s still carrying a lot, he’s finding some peace in her presence. The touch on his back can be both a source of reassurance for Terry and a way for Imani to stay connected to him emotionally without pressuring him to speak.

Her decision not to pry shows her deep respect for Terry’s need for space. She understands that, when he's ready, he’ll talk, but right now, she’s content just being there with him. There’s something incredibly tender about this moment, where the silence and physical closeness speak louder than words ever could.

Imani’s kiss on Terry’s head is a quiet, tender expression of love and reassurance, a gentle way to seal the moment of peace between them. Her whispered words, “You don’t know how much I love you,” are filled with deep affection and the weight of everything they’ve been through together. In that quiet moment, she’s offering him a reminder of her unwavering support, even if he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

As she kisses him and speaks those words, Imani is likely feeling a mix of emotions—concern for what Terry’s carrying, gratitude for their connection, and maybe a touch of sadness that he’s still holding so much inside. But in the stillness of the night, her love for him is the one thing that remains constant and unspoken, offering him the strength to face whatever comes next.

Terry, with his breathing steady and slow, has found some respite in her arms. Her presence is the kind of peace he needs in that moment. It’s as if her love is a quiet anchor in the storm of everything he’s been through.

Soon she falls asleep herself. She somehow some way fell asleep on his chest. His arms made it's way to her waist. 

The soft rays of sunlight gently filtered through the window, slowly pulling Imani from her sleep. She blinked a few times, still feeling the warmth of Terry's body pressed against hers, but as she stretched out her arms, she felt the absence of her favorite pillow—him. The space beside her was empty, and for a moment, a small pang of longing settled in her chest.

Imani’s eyes drifted around their bedroom, still a little groggy from sleep. She smiled softly as her gaze landed on an old Marine Corps t-shirt of Terry’s, draped across the back of a chair. The familiar dark green fabric, faded from years of wear, had the bold letters "MCMAP" printed on it, a reminder of Terry’s time as a Martial Arts Instructor in the Marines. It was one of her favorite shirts to wear when he wasn’t around—it smelled like him, like home, like the comfort of his steady presence.

She pushed herself up from the bed, stretching once more, her muscles still a little stiff, but grateful for the rest. The house was quiet—too quiet without Terry in it. The sound of the coffee maker percolating in the kitchen was the only noise filling the space. She slipped on his shirt, feeling its softness against her skin, and it instantly put her at ease.

Imani loved how it fit her—oversized, comfortable, and a constant reminder of the man she adored. The shirt was a piece of his past, a link to the man he had been before they met, but it had also become part of her daily routine, something she’d wear in the mornings when he wasn’t there, a little piece of him that kept her close to him even when they were apart.

As she walked to the kitchen, the smell of coffee filled the air, and she couldn’t help but smile. She knew Terry was probably already awake, taking care of something or working on his thoughts. Despite his silence about the past few days, Imani knew he was fighting his own battles. She could see it in the way he moved—slow, deliberate—and the way his eyes would sometimes darken with things he couldn’t yet talk about.

She set the coffee pot to brew a fresh pot and leaned against the counter, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the countertop. The sunlight coming through the window illuminated the room in a warm, golden hue, and she let the peace of the moment sink in.

As she waited, she glanced down at the shirt she wore again, her thoughts turning inward. It wasn’t just a shirt. It was a piece of Terry she held close when she missed him, a way to connect with the man who had made her heart feel whole.

A soft rustling noise interrupted her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Terry entering the kitchen. His eyes softened when he saw her wearing the shirt. “You always steal my best clothes,” he teased with a smirk.

Imani smiled warmly, her heart fluttering at the sight of him standing there. “I can’t help it. I love how it feels... like having you here even when you’re not.”

Terry walked toward her, his movements slow but steady. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as they always did when he was close. “You know,” he said softly, “I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Imani’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard him say things like this before, but hearing it now, after everything they’d been through, still had the same effect. Her hand reached up to touch his chest, resting there as she met his eyes. “I know, baby. I just need you to talk to me when you're ready, okay?”

Terry nodded, his lips pressing into a firm line as he gazed down at her. “I will,” he promised, his voice quiet but sincere.

The air between them was thick with unspoken words, but for the first time in days, Imani felt the shift. She knew they were moving toward healing, toward understanding. And though they still had a long way to go, she felt a sense of peace in that moment, in the familiarity of the shirt, the warmth of their home, and the love they shared.

“Thank you for last night Imani.” He says softly.

Imani looked up at him, her heart swelling with tenderness at the sincerity in his voice. She had always known how deeply Terry cared for her, but hearing him express it so openly, especially after everything he'd been through, felt like a balm to her soul. She smiled, reaching up to cup his face gently in her hands.

“No need to thank me, babe,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

Terry leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “It’s not just about love,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s about you being there when I didn’t know how to be there for myself. Last night... it meant everything.”

Imani’s heart ached with the weight of his words. She had always seen him as strong—unshakable even—but in this moment, she understood the depth of his vulnerability. They had both been through a lot, but their bond was something that couldn’t be broken by the hardships they faced. She pulled him in for a soft kiss on the lips, a silent reassurance that she was there for him, always.

“I’ll always be here, Terry,” she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with conviction. “No matter what.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not taking this for granted, Imani. I swear I’ll do better... I’ll be the man you deserve.”

Imani’s eyes softened as she looked up at him, her hands gently caressing the back of his neck. “You already are, Terry. You always have been.”

Terry’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. There was no need for grand gestures or more words—just the simple comfort of knowing that they had each other, no matter what the future held.

Imani smiled up at him, the sun shining through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on their quiet, intimate moment. “Let’s just take things one step at a time,” she said. “We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

Terry nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “One step at a time,” he echoed, pulling her into a hug.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the world outside fade away. With every beat of his heart against hers, Imani knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together, just as they always had.

“Tell me what you want to do today.” He says. 

Imani looked up at Terry, her smile playful as she tilted her head slightly, considering his question. She loved that he was trying to take her mind off things, especially after the weight of everything they’d both been through.

“Well,” she started, letting the words hang in the air for a moment as she moved closer to him, “I think I’m in the mood for something... low-key today. Maybe we could start by grabbing some coffee, take a walk, just... get out of the house for a bit.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sounds like a good plan. Coffee first, though?”

“Definitely coffee,” Imani agreed with a laugh. “And I think we could use a little break from everything. Maybe some time away from the house would do us good.”

Terry’s expression softened, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He knew that sometimes the best thing for both of them was to step away from their daily routine and just enjoy each other’s company, free from the weight of their responsibilities or past struggles.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer for a brief kiss. “Let’s do it. Coffee, a walk... and maybe some quiet time afterward. Just us.”

Imani grinned, her heart lightening at the thought of a peaceful day spent with him. “Exactly what I need. We’ll leave everything behind for a few hours.”

As they finished getting ready, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief—today wasn’t about tackling the weight of the world. Today was about them, about reconnecting in simple ways. A warm coffee in their hands, the cool air of the day around them, and the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Let’s go,” Imani said, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. “I think today is going to be a good one.”

As Terry and Imani stepped out of their home, the fresh air of the morning seemed to wash over them, offering a moment of peace that both of them needed. The streets were quiet, with only the soft rustling of the trees in the breeze and the distant hum of the city waking up. It was a perfect contrast to the chaos they had both been dealing with recently.

Imani, sensing that Terry was taking it all in, walked beside him in comfortable silence. She loved these moments with him—the ones where words weren’t necessary, where just being together was enough to feel grounded.

Terry took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as the tension from the past few days seemed to slowly melt away. The simple act of walking alongside Imani, the rhythmic motion of their steps in sync, gave him a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“So,” Imani finally broke the silence, her voice soft but teasing, “anything on your mind? Or are you just enjoying the peace and quiet?”

Terry glanced at her, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Just... taking it all in. I needed this. You’re right. Sometimes, just walking with you and being outside helps me clear my head.”

Imani nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “I get that. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that help, you know? It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more moments, the sound of their footsteps accompanying the natural beauty around them. Terry felt the weight in his chest start to lift with each step. With every passing block, the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in this peaceful moment.

Imani glanced up at him, noticing the calmness that had returned to his face. “You look more relaxed,” she observed. “This was a good idea.”

Terry looked down at her, his expression sincere. “Yeah. It really was. I’m glad you suggested it.”

They continued walking, their connection deepening with each step. For the first time in a while, Terry felt like he was truly present, like everything he’d been through, everything he was still carrying, could take a backseat for a while.

It was moments like this—when the world felt still, when they didn’t have to talk about the past or the future—that made him realize just how much Imani meant to him. She was his anchor, the one person who could always pull him back from the edge, reminding him of the simple joys of life.

After a while, they came to a small park, where they found a bench to sit and continue their quiet day. Terry leaned back, his arm resting around Imani’s shoulders as she nestled into his side.

“I needed this more than I realized,” he said softly, his voice full of gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me out here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Imani looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth. “You’ll never have to find out,” she said simply, her hand gently resting on his chest. “I’m always here.”

They sat together, watching the world pass by, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it hand in hand. The peace of the moment wrapped around them, offering both of them a rare kind of clarity and quiet—a reminder that, sometimes, taking it slow and being together was exactly what they needed.

He glanced over at her. “Someone looks like they went up a bra size.” He smirks. He always joked about her gaining happy weight with him.

Imani laughed softly at Terry’s teasing comment, her eyes narrowing playfully as she bumped her shoulder against his. “Oh, really?” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of sass. “Well, maybe I’m just finally learning to enjoy all those home-cooked meals you keep feeding me.”

Terry chuckled, his hand gently squeezing hers. He loved how she didn’t take his teasing too seriously. It was one of the many things he adored about her—her ability to laugh at herself, and the way she always made him feel like everything he said, even in jest, was just part of their dynamic.

“I can’t help it,” he continued, his smirk widening. “You make it too easy to spoil you. And hey, a little extra weight never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to you.” He gave her a wink, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth between them.

Imani rolled her eyes, though there was a softness to her smile as she leaned into him more. “I swear, you always know how to make me laugh,” she said, shaking her head but not without affection. “But for the record, I think you’re the one who’s gaining a little ‘happy weight,’ too.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, you think so? You really wanna go there?”

Imani’s lips curled into a smirk. “Hey, someone’s been living pretty well lately. I’m not saying it’s all the late-night snacks, but... maybe it’s time to hit the gym together?”

Terry laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, now you want to get all healthy on me?” He teased, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “I thought we were enjoying all that food together. What happened to that?”

“I’m all for enjoying things, Terry, but I’m just saying...” She shrugged, a sly smile on her lips. “Maybe a little balance wouldn’t hurt.”

He sighed dramatically, but there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. “Alright, alright. Maybe we can start tomorrow. But for now, let’s just enjoy this, yeah? No need to worry about the gym today.”

Imani agreed with a soft chuckle, her hand resting on his chest. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The two of them continued their walk, their light-hearted teasing a comfortable rhythm that kept the mood easy and carefree. It was these moments, where they could laugh together and share little jokes, that made their relationship feel like home—perfectly imperfect, but always real.

“But seriously. What size cup is my beautiful girlfriend?” He asks.

Imani raised an eyebrow at Terry's bold question, her lips curling into a playful smile. She’d heard him tease her about her appearance countless times before, but this felt like one of his more direct comments. She couldn’t help but laugh, her voice light and teasing.

“Oh, so now we’re talking cup sizes, huh?” she replied, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “You’re really asking that now, huh, after everything we’ve been through?”

Terry gave her a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I mean, I’m just curious. You look even more gorgeous than usual, so I thought I’d ask.”

Imani rolled her eyes but her smile widened as she nudged him with her elbow. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, still grinning. “But if you must know, I’m not telling you. You’re the one who’s always staring anyway.”

Terry laughed, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Hey, I can’t help it. I admire the whole package.” He winked at her, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. “Just curious if it’s my cooking or your natural beauty that’s making you even more irresistible.”

Imani shook her head, the warmth in her chest growing. “You’re something else, Terry. But don’t think you’re getting away with that one. I’m keeping that secret.”

Terry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Fair enough, babe. But I’ll just keep appreciating the view in my own way, then.”

She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re impossible, but that’s why I love you.”

With that, the playful teasing between them continued as they walked, a shared sense of humor making everything feel light and easy. It was these moments that strengthened their bond, where jokes and laughter kept them connected, no matter what else was going on in their lives.

“The first thing I noticed was damn my girl thick in the ass and thighs. I’m lucky.” He smirks

Imani’s eyes widened at Terry’s blunt compliment, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. It was the kind of honesty he always carried with him, the kind that made her love him even more. She shot him a side-eye, trying to mask her smile as she shook her head.

“Damn, you really just gonna say that out loud?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “You trying to get me all embarrassed in the middle of the street?”

Terry only smirked wider, his arm casually draped over her shoulder as they continued walking. “I’m just saying, I’m lucky as hell,” he replied with that easy confidence of his. “You know it, I know it. That’s just the truth.”

Imani rolled her eyes but the blush creeping onto her cheeks gave her away. She couldn’t deny that she loved how openly he appreciated her. It was something she hadn’t experienced much in the past—being loved without hesitation, without games.

“Well, I’m not complaining either,” she shot back, her voice turning playful as she leaned closer into him. “You’re lucky I even put up with you, Mr. ‘Thick in the Ass and Thighs.’”

Terry laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Oh, I know. But trust me, I’d be a fool not to appreciate it,” he said, pulling her closer by the waist. “I’m not just talking about your curves, either. You’re beautiful all the way around, inside and out.”

Imani’s heart softened, the teasing moment turning into something tender. She met his gaze and smiled warmly, her voice quieter now. “I know, baby. I love you too.”

Terry kissed the top of her head, his hand gently resting on her back. “Good, ‘cause I’m lucky to have you.”

They continued walking, the easy banter and genuine affection between them making the moment feel perfect. Every exchange, whether playful or serious, was a reminder of how deep their bond ran, and it was clear that no matter what happened, they’d always have each other.

When they arrived home, the quiet of their house enveloped them, a welcome contrast to the noise and rush of the outside world. Terry slipped off his shoes at the door, letting out a long breath as he stretched his shoulders, the weight of the day lifting with each movement. He made his way to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, finally feeling like he could truly relax.

As Imani disappeared into their shared bedroom to change, Terry took a moment to himself, the events of the past day running through his mind. He felt the lingering ache in his muscles, a reminder of his injuries, but it was nothing compared to the weight that had been on his heart. The conversation with Imani, the comfort of their time together—it was the balm he needed to heal.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Imani. He loved her with everything he had, and in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, everything felt right.

Imani reappeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, now in a simple pair of sweatpants and one of Terry’s old t-shirts. The sight of her in his shirt always brought a soft smile to his face, as if she belonged to him in the most intimate way possible. Her hair was a little messy from taking it out of the bun, and her eyes were warm, soft, the way they always were when she was with him.

She walked over to him, her movements graceful, and gently sat down beside him on the couch. "Feeling better?" she asked, her voice quiet, a mix of care and curiosity.

Terry smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Yeah. A lot better. I just needed some time with you," he admitted, his voice low, almost reverent.

Imani leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "I’m glad. I hate seeing you like that," she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "You know I’m always here, right? For whatever you need."

He nodded, holding her close, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. "I know. And I love you for it. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment, just the soft sounds of the TV in the background and their steady breathing. Terry let his head fall back against the couch, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. His arm wrapped around Imani, pulling her even closer, as if he could hold onto this feeling forever.

"Thank you," he whispered after a while. "For being here with me. For making everything better."

Imani smiled, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "You’re welcome, baby. You don’t ever have to thank me for that."

Terry kissed her forehead, his heart full. They didn’t need words for this; just being together was enough.

Imani settled more comfortably on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her feet in Terry’s lap. She was still scrolling through her phone, occasionally pausing to read something or reply to a text, her fingers moving fluidly over the screen. The soft glow of the phone illuminated her face, and Terry couldn’t help but watch her, the familiarity of her presence bringing a calm over him.

He absently stroked the top of her feet with his fingers, a small gesture that brought him peace. It was a quiet, intimate moment—just the two of them, unwinding together after the chaos of the day.

Terry flipped through the TV channels without much interest. The images on the screen didn’t really grab his attention, but it felt comforting to just have the noise in the background. His mind kept wandering back to the past few days, to the weight he’d carried, but now, with Imani here beside him, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

Imani glanced up at him, catching his gaze for a moment before returning her attention to her phone. She could tell he was lost in thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was something she should press him about or just let him work through it in his own time.

"You’re awfully quiet," she remarked softly, her voice teasing but gentle. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Terry let out a small sigh, his fingers pausing as he traced circles on the soles of her feet. "Just thinking. About everything and nothing, I guess," he admitted, his voice low.

Imani smiled softly and shifted, resting her phone down on the coffee table and giving him her full attention. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not really. Just… glad to be here with you."

Her eyes softened, and she sat up slightly, resting a hand on his chest. "I’m glad to be here with you too, Terry. We don’t always have to talk about everything. Sometimes just being here is enough."

Terry’s hand slid up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, it is."

The moment stretched on, comfortable and peaceful, as they settled into each other's company. The world outside faded away, and for this moment, it was just the two of them, together, in their little bubble of quiet.

Imani stretched as she stood up from the couch, her body feeling the weight of the day. She gave Terry a playful smile as she walked toward their shared bedroom, her steps light as she headed toward the bed. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm, inviting light over the room.

As she pulled back the covers, she let out a long yawn, her arms reaching above her head as she stretched. The yawn seemed to echo the exhaustion she hadn’t even realized was creeping in. The past few days had been heavy, and now, in the quiet comfort of their room, it felt like the tension was finally starting to leave her body.

Imani slipped off her sweatpants, deciding to change into something more comfortable for the night, knowing it would be the last thing they’d do before resting. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, and then pulled on one of Terry’s old t-shirts—one that had become her favorite to sleep in. The soft fabric, the familiar scent of him, it always made her feel close to him, even when they were drifting off to sleep.

She turned back toward the bed, her body a little sore from the long day, but also feeling a sense of calm that she couldn’t shake. Terry had come back to her, and for now, everything felt right.

When she crawled into bed, she snuggled into the covers, turning onto her side to face him. Her eyes studied him as he sat on the edge of the bed, probably lost in his thoughts again.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come here.”

Terry glanced over at her, the exhaustion of the day evident on his face. He stood slowly, stretching his back before walking over to the bed. He slipped in beside her, his arm naturally finding its way around her waist as he pulled her close. They settled into the familiar rhythm of their shared space, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

Imani let out another contented sigh, her eyes closing as she rested her head against his chest. It had been a long day, but this felt like home—the two of them together, safe and at peace.

"Love you," Terry mumbled into her hair, his voice drowsy.

"I love you too," Imani murmured back, her fingers lightly tracing over his arm.

And with that, they drifted off into the quiet of the night, the weight of the world outside their door feeling just a little lighter with each breath they took together.

Imani's eyes fluttered open in the morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned softly, burrowing further into Terry’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his strong, muscular arms around her. His embrace always made her feel safe, as if nothing in the world could touch her when he was close.

But the ringing phone persisted, and she finally pulled herself away from his chest with a reluctant sigh. She reached over and grabbed the phone from the nightstand, her eyes squinting as she checked the caller ID. It was work—of course. She could never seem to get a break, especially when she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in Terry’s arms and forget about everything else.

Imani silently cursed under her breath, but she answered the call anyway, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Hello?”

Terry, still half-asleep, pulled himself up on his elbows, watching her from the bed as she took the call. He could see the way she shifted, the slight tension in her posture when it was work calling. He knew how much she hated it, especially when it interrupted their mornings together.

“Imani, I’m sorry to bother you so early,” the voice on the other end said. “But we’ve got a situation here. Can you come in? We need your input.”

Imani rubbed her forehead, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in about an hour,” she replied, trying to sound more professional than she felt. She ended the call, her fingers lingering on the screen for a moment before she tossed the phone back onto the nightstand with a frustrated sigh.

Terry sat up fully now, his brow furrowed. He knew how hard it was for Imani to balance everything—her work, their relationship, and everything else. He could see it in the way her shoulders tensed when something like this happened. He didn’t want her to have to deal with it, especially not on a morning like this when everything had felt so peaceful.

“Babe, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said softly, his voice hoarse from sleep. He reached over and gently stroked her arm, his touch meant to reassure her.

Imani smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I have to. You know how it is.” She didn’t want to burden him with her work troubles, but it was part of her life. She’d never be able to turn it off completely. Not while she was still in the thick of it.

Terry sighed, not liking it one bit, but understanding her sense of responsibility. “If you need anything, you know I’ve got your back, right?” he said, his eyes meeting hers with unspoken support. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

Imani nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. He was always her rock, the one she could count on no matter what. But sometimes, it still felt like she had to carry the weight of everything herself.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft but grateful. “Thanks, Terry.”

With a final kiss on his lips, she stood up from the bed and moved toward the closet. She knew she had to get ready, but she could already feel the heaviness of the day settling in. Terry’s gaze followed her as she began to change into something more presentable, his thoughts drifting back to what had happened the day before—the weight of everything that had been on his mind. But he pushed it aside for now. Right now, his focus was on Imani.

At her desk, Imani sat back in her chair with a long, deep sigh. The weight of the morning hung on her shoulders as she tried to focus on the work in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Terry. She glanced around her office, taking in the familiar surroundings, but there was only one thing that really caught her eye: a picture on the corner of her desk.

It was her favorite photo of the two of them—a moment from their trip to Disney. In it, Terry stood with his lips gently pressed against her forehead, his strong bicep practically taking up the entire side of the picture. She smiled at the memory. He had always been protective of her in such a comforting, effortless way, and that moment, captured in time, had reminded her of everything she loved about him.

Imani picked up the photo frame, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass. She could almost feel the warmth of Terry’s embrace again, the way his arms had felt around her as they wandered through the park, laughing at the silliest things. It was one of those rare, perfect days when everything seemed to fall into place.

As she stared at the picture, the weight of the phone call from earlier began to resurface. There was a sense of duty that she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she wanted to. But at the same time, the photo reminded her of the life she was building with Terry, of the support he always offered, even when she felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders.

“Why can’t every day be like that?” she muttered to herself, setting the frame back down on the desk.

But the reality of her responsibilities wasn’t going to wait. She could feel the pull of work demanding her attention, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that there were lives depending on her input. She let out another sigh, this time with more resolve, and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

Just before she dove back into her work, Imani took a moment to close her eyes and think of Terry. She didn’t need to see him right now to feel his presence. It was there, in everything she did. She knew, without a doubt, that he was her rock—the one person who would never let her fall, no matter how heavy the world felt.

With a deep breath, she turned her attention to her computer screen, putting the personal distractions aside for a moment. But in the back of her mind, she knew she would be counting down the hours until she could see Terry again, find solace in his arms, and steal back some of those small moments of peace.

As the day dragged on, Imani found herself losing track of time. The calls, emails, and never-ending meetings seemed to blur together. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Terry, to the peacefulness of the morning before everything had to be put on hold. But now, sitting at her desk, she couldn’t shake the exhaustion that had begun to settle in her bones.

Her phone buzzed, cutting through the monotony of the office. She glanced down and saw Terry’s name lighting up the screen. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she unlocked her phone.

“What’s for dinner tonight? I’m thinking something simple, but I’ll make it good. How’s your day going?”

Imani chuckled softly, his familiar voice even in text making her feel a little lighter. It was exactly what she needed—a reminder of her life outside of the office. She quickly typed back, trying to keep the conversation casual despite the stress of her day.

“It’s dragging on. I swear, time moves slower when I’m stuck in here. But I’m looking forward to dinner. You’re the best at making the simple things feel special.”

She hit send, feeling the weight of the workday slowly lifting off her shoulders, replaced by the warmth of anticipation. She didn't know what Terry had planned for dinner, but just the thought of him taking care of her, of them sitting down together at the end of the day, made her feel grounded.

A few moments later, his reply came through:

“I’ve got us covered. Just relax when you get home, babe. You’ve earned it.”

Imani smiled, feeling a flutter of affection for him. He always knew how to make her feel seen, even when she was buried under piles of work. She glanced at the clock, realizing the day was almost over. Her energy had been drained, but knowing Terry would be there when she got home filled her with a sense of calm she hadn’t realized she was missing.

“I’ll be home soon. Can't wait to see you.”

She placed her phone down, taking a moment to breathe. The stress of the day hadn’t fully disappeared, but now, with the thought of Terry waiting for her, it didn’t seem quite as heavy.

-

As Imani stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of garlic, herbs, and rich tomato sauce filled the air. Her senses immediately relaxed, and her stomach growled in response. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply—lasagna. Terry knew exactly how to comfort her after a long day.

She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she found him standing by the stove, the oven door open and the lasagna just about ready. Terry, wearing a faded T-shirt and his usual relaxed jeans, was humming softly to himself as he prepared the final touches.

Imani leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The sight of him always grounded her. The way he moved, calm and steady, even in the kitchen, was just one of the many things she adored about him. And tonight, he was making her favorite dish—he always pulled out all the stops when he knew she'd had a hard day.

Terry looked up, a soft smile forming on his face when he saw her. "Welcome home, baby," he said, his voice warm and full of affection. "Lasagna’s almost ready."

Imani couldn’t help but smile back as she walked toward him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "You’re the best," she murmured, her hands finding his waist as she settled against him. "This smells incredible."

He chuckled softly, pulling her in for a brief hug before letting her go. "Figured you’d need some comfort food," he said, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I know how much you love it."

She leaned back slightly, looking up at him, her gaze softening with a mix of appreciation and love. "You always know just what I need," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt.

Terry smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "I just want you to feel good. You deserve it after the kind of day you’ve had."

Imani felt a warmth spread through her chest. She was lucky—lucky to have him by her side, always ready to care for her in ways big and small. "I feel good now," she said softly, her lips curving into a smile.

He stepped back toward the oven, pulling the lasagna out and setting it on the counter to cool. "Dinner’s served. I’ll get us some wine."

Imani pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, settling into it as she watched Terry move about. The simple, comforting normalcy of the moment was exactly what she needed. After everything that had been on her mind today, this felt like home—Terry, the food, the quiet after a busy day.

When he returned with two glasses of wine, he set one in front of her before taking a seat across from her. They exchanged a quiet, knowing look, the kind of look that passed between them after years of being together. She lifted her glass in a small toast. "To us," she said softly.

Terry clinked his glass against hers. "To us," he agreed, his voice low and full of meaning.

The rest of the evening passed by peacefully as they enjoyed their meal, the quiet hum of conversation and laughter filling the room. Imani let herself unwind, the weight of the day slowly lifting as she soaked in the comfort of Terry’s presence.

After finishing their meal, the warmth of the evening lingered in the air as Imani moved toward the living room. Terry was already on the couch, casually reclined and looking more relaxed than he had in days. The easygoing comfort of their home was just what he needed, and she couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him.

Imani moved in closer, feeling the subtle pull between them. Without saying a word, she straddled his lap, settling herself comfortably against him. The contact was familiar and reassuring. Terry’s eyes softened as he met her gaze, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and warm, clearly enjoying the closeness between them.

Imani smirked and leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “I thought I’d come keep you company.” Her hands gently rested on his shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She could tell he was enjoying the way they fit together—his big, solid frame supporting her as she straddled him.

Terry’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. His smile deepened as he looked at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. “You always know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly, his voice thick with affection.

Imani grinned, feeling a flutter of warmth in her chest. “You’re pretty lucky,” she teased, before capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft at first, their lips barely grazing, savoring the comfort of being so close.

Terry’s hands tightened around her waist, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a mix of passion and tenderness. As they kissed, Imani felt all the stress of the day melt away. There was something so grounding about being with him, about the way he always seemed to know exactly what she needed—whether it was a comforting dinner or the quiet intimacy they shared now.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, she rested her forehead against his. “I missed you today,” she whispered, her voice quiet, filled with the weight of her emotions.

“I missed you too,” he murmured back, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “You know I can’t stand being apart from you.”

Imani smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him again. This was their moment, a space where everything else in the world faded away, leaving just the two of them—together, as they always were.

Imani deepened the kiss, her lips moving with a sense of urgency, feeling the tension that had been building between them all day. She pulled back for a moment, her eyes searching his before she slowly began to tug at the hem of his shirt. There was a familiar pull between them, a silent understanding of how they both needed this closeness, this connection.

Terry’s hands moved to help her, lifting his arms so she could pull the shirt off with ease. As she slid it over his head, she couldn’t help but admire the sight of his strong, sculpted chest. The muscles that had always impressed her now seemed even more alluring, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly across his skin, feeling the heat of his body.

Terry’s breath hitched slightly at her touch, his hands sliding down her back as she moved closer to him. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

Imani smiled, her lips brushing against his as she leaned in again. “I know,” she whispered, her hands sliding to the waistband of his sweatpants. She paused for just a moment, savoring the intensity of the moment, before she slowly began to remove them, leaving him in just his boxers.

Terry’s hands moved to her shirt, the desire in his eyes clear. He helped her take it off, his lips brushing along her jawline, savoring the warmth of her skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as his lips found her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

Imani let out a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him back up to kiss him again. This kiss was different—deeper, more intense—as if the both of them had been holding back for too long and now the floodgates had opened. She pressed her body closer to his, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the intensity of their connection growing with each passing second.

Terry’s hands were steady, guiding hers to the waistband of his sweats as his voice dropped to a low, heated whisper. The intensity in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted her, how he craved this moment with her. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, urging her forward, while his lips hovered just above her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Imani’s heart raced at the sound of his voice. She could feel the same anticipation swirling between them, the way their bodies responded to each other’s touch. Her fingers moved to the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for just a moment, before she met his gaze.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with desire and an unspoken understanding. “I want you,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She let her hands slide into the waistband of his sweats, her fingertips grazing his skin as she slowly pulled them down, taking her time, savoring the tension that built between them with every small movement.

As she worked, Terry’s hands slid to her waist, guiding her back down to his lap. His lips found hers once more, gentle but urgent, as if time had slowed and they had all the space in the world to explore one another. His touch was tender yet firm, his hands tracing the curve of her back before moving to her thighs, pulling her closer, if that was even possible.

“I’m yours,” he said softly between kisses, the words a promise and a plea, all wrapped into one.

Imani leaned into him, her fingers still teasing the waistband of his sweats, before finally pushing them down and off. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her touch. She felt safe, secure, and loved in his arms, and as their connection deepened, the world outside of them faded away.

Terry’s breath hitched as Imani lowered his sweats, his body reacting to the closeness of hers, to the intimate moment they were sharing. He looked at her, his expression soft but full of longing.

"Babe..." she said softly, her voice laced with affection and something deeper, a hunger that matched his own.

He reached for her, his hands brushing against her sides as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing over her forehead before trailing down to her lips. "You don’t know how badly I want you," he murmured, his voice rough but filled with love and passion.

Imani felt the weight of his words, her own desire for him reflecting in her gaze. She let her hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her touch. She knew exactly what he needed, what they both needed, and without hesitation, she let her lips meet his again, this time with more urgency, as if they both had been waiting for this moment far too long.

Terry responded instantly, his hands finding her hips and pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his. The contact was electric, and for a moment, all they could feel was the heat between them, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing heavily. "I love you so much, Imani. You’re everything to me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Imani smiled softly, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingers. "I love you too, Terry. More than you know," she whispered back, before leaning in to kiss him once more, letting their connection deepen further.

Terry’s hands settled at the waistband of Imani’s pajama pants, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he looked up at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and desire. The room seemed to quiet around them, leaving only the sound of their breathing as they shared this intimate space.

Imani met his gaze, her own eyes dark with longing. She could feel the heat between them, an unspoken understanding passing between them as he slowly began to slip the pants off her hips. His touch was gentle, yet there was an undeniable urgency in the way he moved, a sense that they had both been waiting for this moment for too long.

She helped him, lifting her hips slightly to allow him to pull them down, and as the fabric slid off her body, her bare skin brushed against his, sending a shiver through her.

Terry paused for a moment, his hands resting on her bare thighs as he looked at her, his breath shaky. "You’re beautiful, Imani. Absolutely perfect," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe.

Imani smiled softly, her hands reaching up to run through his hair, her fingers gently tugging him closer. "I’m yours, Terry. Always have been, always will be," she whispered back, her voice full of love and trust.

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together. In that moment, there was no past, no future—just the here and now, the two of them wrapped up in each other.

He gently leaned her back into the pillows, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her body. She inhaled at the sensation. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream my name.” he says as he makes his way down.

True to word he kept his promise. 

The next morning, Imani woke up with a contented sigh, the warmth of Terry's body still radiating against hers. She could feel the tenderness in her muscles, a reminder of the passion they had shared the night before. Her body was sore, but in the best possible way, a familiar feeling she had come to associate with their most intimate moments together.

Terry was still asleep, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His steady breathing and the comforting weight of his arm made her feel safe, loved, and cherished. She couldn't help but smile as she traced a finger along his arm, her thoughts drifting back to the night they had just shared.

She felt a wave of affection for him, a deep love that ran so much deeper than the physical. Terry was her rock, the person who had stood by her side through thick and thin, and even on mornings like this, when she was sore and exhausted, she felt nothing but gratitude for the man in her life.

Imani shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and snuggled deeper into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her back into a peaceful moment of quiet intimacy.

Tags 🏷️ :

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7

[monstrousvoice]

A Chance

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Relationship: Toshinori Yagi/All Might X Female Reader

AN: With my love of BNHA coming back, so too does my undying love for Toshi rise from the depths to inconvenience everyone who tries to have a conversation with me lasting longer than 5 minutes. This drabble was inspired by the following mood board as part of a challenge prompt in the discord server I’m in!

Tags: Fluff, Knight!Toshinori, References to past sexy times but nothing explicit

Summary: You are given the chance to pursue your own happiness with the one you love.

Read it on AO3!

“It really is unconventional my dear.” Your mother clucked her tongue at you before blowing on her steaming tea and taking a careful sip. You took a deep breath to keep your composure. It took nearly all your courage just to speak the words you had been sitting on for months at this point, and you had been prepared for a far harsher response. You gently swirled your spoon in your own tea cup, watching as the sugar cube melted away. You hated this blend, but it was Mother’s favorite and you needed any help to get her in a good mood.

Your father says nothing, simply watching you with a stoic expression. His tea cup sits full and untouched.

“I am…aware, of how odd it is-” Mother scoffs at your words.

“If you are so aware, why even entertain the idea? Honestly child.” She rolls her eyes at you. You bite your tongue, and take another deep breath.

“I simply think after all he’s done for us, for me, that he would be a good choice,” Another scoff. “And that he would…” make me happy, you want to say but don’t. Mother didn’t care about things like happiness in marriage. Marriage was a tool in a royal’s arsenal, like anything else.

“Oh yes, everything he’s done for us, and every neighboring kingdom from here to the coast! The man has no loyalty! He would sooner give up the crown to an invader than fight them! He has too many ties to too many people.”

“That isn’t true!” Mother narrows her eyes at your raised voice. You stiffen and look to your lap in a show of submission. “I-I am sorry. I just…”

“It is a foolish idea.” Mother takes another sip of her tea, opening her mouth to further admonish you for your proposal, but your father speaks.

“I disagree.” He rumbles. Mother closes her mouth with a sharp ‘click’. Your father may be content to let her rule the castle, the staff, and you as she sees fit, but every once in a small while he steps in. Those few times are almost enough to convince you he may care for you in some way.

“Father?” You prompt.

“He was born here. He trained here under my own father’s best knights. He has helped our neighbors as his warrior spirit demanded, but never to our detriment. Now that he can no longer fight the same way, why not reward him for his servitude?” Father blinks passively at Mother, the wisdom of many years of leadership in his eyes. Mother looks at him in shock, her own protests sounding weak now that she doesn’t have his support.

“Bu-I-! He is-! Why, he is too old now my lord husband! He-”

“He is as old as I am, and that brings wisdom and experience.”

“Wh-what of heirs!? He could never-with our daughter-!”

“Men older than us both have produced children before. It will be fine.”

Mother looks like she wants to protest further still, but you don’t pay her stuttered words any more mind. You stare at your father, a man you have spent most of your life fearing in some capacity. Fear of failure and disappointment, fear of losing him and leaving your home in disarray with no king to lead them.

Fear of being married off to some horrible man that would decide your fate, who would crush and break you under the weight of unwanted motherhood and wifely duties you would have no choice but to complete. Of one day suffering the quiet shame of having a husband who brings strangers to bed, of being an object meant to look pretty and nothing more.

And within this moment you dare hope that your life will not be as sad and grey. 

Father looks at you and nods his head. You stand, your fingers twitching with the effort to hold back your excitement. Never before have you so badly wanted to hug Father, but you refrain. It would be improper, Mother has always said. You bow low instead to show your gratitude.

“Th-thank you Father. Mother. I must-...I need to step out for a moment, please excuse me.” And with that you rush out the door to the private study and nearly collapse against the stone wall opposite you. The cool, rough texture against your palms and catching the fabric of your gown helps ground you.

This is real.

You can-you can marry the man you love. Bring him into a life of luxury and happiness you’ve wanted to give him for so long-

The click of the door behind you opening and closing echoes in your pounding head. With hazy eyes you look to see Father standing behind you, proud and tall as ever. He is smiling softly at you, a gentleness you didn’t think he possessed. It's an odd but not unpleasant expression to see on his face.

“I…” He starts, lifting a hand into the air and holding it there, fingers pinched. With a sigh he drops his hand back to his side, looking to the floor.

“With age comes wisdom.” He begins. “I regret many things when it comes to how you were raised.” You blink in shock at his words. You can see in his face…a quiet longing you hadn’t noticed before. It makes something in your heart squeeze.

“I wish…I wish I had been…” He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he looks to you. “I had you trained and molded to take charge of the kingdom after my passing, consort or no. I made sure you knew every battle tactic, every political game, every form of self defense I could cram into you to make sure you could be safe. I just wish I could have taken the time to…let you be you. To be my daughter, not just my heir. I wish I could have gotten to know you.”

The back of your eyes burn. You swallow and blink. You cannot show such clear emotion, not to anyone.

Well…to one person and one person only. 

That person is not Father.

“I married your mother because of the things she could teach you, the benefits she brought to our home.” Father steps closer to you. His arms lift, as if to reach for you. He freezes, hands shaking before he forces them down to his sides again. “I wish to give you a chance to be happy. If only in some small way. A way I never got to experience. Go to him, and you will be happy with him, I’m sure.”

Father has taken time out of his day to meet with you, to hear your proposal. He agreed to your proposal and gave you his blessing for the man you chose. He is standing before you and restraining himself from giving you a hug.

You take the final step to close the distance between you both, and your stiff arms wrap around his even stiffer form. You feel his hands slowly and carefully come to your back and rest there.

It is awkward and stiff and slightly uncomfortable.

It is the first hug you’ve ever received from Father.

You will cherish its memory for the rest of your life. He has made you happier on this day than you have ever felt.

Well, perhaps not happier than the day you met your fearsome and brave knight. It is close, however.

“Thank you Father. If it is acceptable, I wish to go see him.” Father’s arms drop from you as you step back, and he nods his head. You turn and rush down the hall.

~~~~~~~

You ignore the whispers that trail after you as you hunt through the castle hallways.

“Ah, her royal highness the cold fish. Wonder what has her in such a hurry.”

“Her highness is moving rather fast, do you think something’s happened? She’s normally so stoic and cold.”

“Just like her father, that one. Unfeeling and scary.”

Their words sting, but you hold your head high. You had thought you had been getting better at interacting with the staff, but apparently not if they still gossip in such ways about you. Your knight had been trying to help you be more approachable and open to others, considering he shined with charm and charisma like a beacon, but apparently you needed more work. 

It didn't matter right now, in any case. You have more important news to share with him. 

A tall figure, a flash of blonde, catches your eye down the corridor. You race after it and round the corner to see your knight and his young charge walking away. 

“Toshinori!” You call, and the two figures freeze, turning to look back at you. You rush closer, breathless and excited. Neither of them are in their full set of armor, only wearing the thickly padded tunic that has your kingdom's blazon proudly on display. You take a moment to admire the way your knight’s cloak drapes over his broad shoulders. 

He may not be as strong as he was when younger, but that thin, tall frame holds strength and resilience you can't help but love.

“G-good morning to you both. I apologize for the interruption-” You start, nodding at Izuku who stares up at you with shining eyes. Toshinori straightens up, his smile professional and calm as he addresses you. 

“No trouble at all, your highness.” He bows low to you, and for a moment his hand twitches as if to reach for you, but he forces it still. Izuku jolts as if shocked, quickly blowing low as well with a muttered ‘good morning’ of his own. He's still learning proper protocol, Toshinori had told you. The boy shows great promise as a knight and you know Toshinori is more proud of this boy than he is about any other accomplishment he has in his long career. 

“If I may, Ser Knight, I would like to speak to you about something…” Your eyes dart to the boy at his side. “Urgent.” Toshinori catches on, his eyebrows raising in surprise and slight concern before he turns to his student.

“Young Midoriya, make your way to the stables and complete your usual duties. I will find you later.” Toshinori smiles at the boy with a tenderness that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. The urge to kiss the laugh lines on his cheeks is nearly overwhelming, and you barely stop yourself from doing so. You need to talk to him first. 

Izuku hurries down the hallway with an eager stride, no doubt wanting to impress his teacher when they meet back up. With your own barely restrained enthusiasm you grab Toshinori's hand in your own and drag him to the closest private spot you know of. He stumbles for a moment as you pull him, letting out a choked noise of surprise. You can feel calluses from years of hard labor under the pads of your fingers, rough skin and scars that make your heart flutter with excitement. You've had those hands on you so many times, and now you know for certain you can feel them again for the rest of your life. 

If he wants such a thing, that is. 

“Y-your highness-! What is-” You ignore his questions, making a beeline for the nearest hidden alcove you can think of. It's a hidden spot right outside the entrance to the gardens, one you and Toshinori are very familiar with. Memories of his fingers, long and thick as they brought you to completion over and over while pressed against his chest flash through your mind as you pull him closer. It seems the same thoughts are on his mind as well, judging by the growing pink blush spreading over the bridge of his nose.

The sunlight bleeds through the leaves of the many trees planted, flowering blooms bright and colorful as fat bees buzz to and fro across them to collect nectar. A slight breeze picks up and you watch, mesmerized, as the golden hair of your knight seems to shine as it’s ruffled.

To think, you’ll be able to see him like this everyday for the rest of your life…if he accepts that is.

His voice startles you despite it being a whisper.

“My love, what is wrong? Did something happen…?” Despite the concern you see in his eyes, his mouth pulls up in a shy smile. “Or were you looking to…” One of his hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone in such a tender way it makes your very soul ache. Your eyes flutter shut as you turn into his palm, pressing a kiss against the rough skin. His blush deepens.

“I am flattered darling but is this really what you would consider ‘urgent’? You had me worried for a moment!” He chuckles, a deep soothing sound that sends shivers down your spine. You squeeze your thighs closed at the sudden rush of heat you feel at the sound. You manage to find your voice and speak.

“N-not entirely, beloved…” Your voice comes out as soft as his, a whisper to be carried away on the wind. Toshinori pulls you closer, his free arm wrapping around your waist to settle on the small of your back, his long fingers spreading to grip the meat of your ass. You squeak at the feeling, your hips pushing closer to his where you can feel his cock hardening under his tunic. He hums in interest at your words as he buries his nose into your hair.

“I was speaking with-...with Mother and Father today-” You feel him stiffen against you, and not because of arousal. He pulls back to look you in the eye, but his arms stay wrapped snugly around you. Toshinori’s brow is furrowed with concern as he looks at you.

“Are you alright? I know talks with Her Majesty can be…difficult for you. Is that why you came to me?” His eyes widened in panic. “A-and here I am trying to-! I am sorry love, you must be upset and I’m just-” You can feel his arms loosening from where they hold you tight, pulling away to give you space you most definitely did not want at the moment. You grip his wrists, tugging his hands back into their rightful place on you.

“No! No, I’m not upset please! Please-” You nuzzle into the hollow of his throat, “please hold me. I want to be held.” Your lips brush against his skin as you whisper and you hear him choke. Those strong arms wrap around you once more.

“Ah, a-as you wish…” Toshinori’s voice comes out breathless, and you feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“It was a good talk. I was…” You pause, trying to think of the best way to phrase your question. “I was granted permission to…to court whomever I wish…”

You feel him suck in a sharp breath, his shoulders tensing under where your hands grip him to hold him close. You can hear the sound of his heartbeat where your head rests against his chest, and you know under your cheek is the very spot where his scar resides. You want to spend eternity like this, just being held by your knight like you’re something precious for once.

“...Truly? That's-that's fantastic my love…” You hear Toshinori gulp above you, his arms tightening their hold even further. 

“I think so too. I wanted to ask…” You pause and breathe deeply, grounding yourself. He wouldn't say no, there was no reason to say no. “I wanted to ask if you would consider…allowing me to court you, Ser Knight? And to one day be my King Consort.” You press a kiss to his cloth covered chest, right above his heart.

“My love…” You feel his hand, rough with callouses, cup your jaw and angle your head up to look at him. Piercing blue eyes that glow with resilience and determination stare into your own. “There is nothing I would love more, than to be by your side.”

And he seals this promise with a kiss.

[baflegacy]

god there is just. something about amanda’s characters in dread and their relationship with their parents + the different dynamics we’ve gotten. the joke is that somehow the parent of amanda’s characters end up the villain in the mini-campaign but its both so interesting and devastating how george and amanda show the relationship.

we have robert, whose company is Definitely the cause of the apocalypse, but gracie (and by extension savannah) is exempt of that in the end, being one of the few who Are part of the escape plan robert and his company planned. he caused the apocalypse, but his daughter isn’t supposed to be part of the casualities.

and then we have mary’s mom, who (assumedly) got taken by the aliens early on and the person we (and mary/tampa/etc) see isn’t mary’s mom. it’s someone in mary’s mom’s skin and is pretending to be her mother to lure mary to a false sense of security. it’s ultimately Not her parent, but its still awful that it Looks like her parent.

and finally we have scott’s mom, who imo is so tragic/devastating if you Really think about the circumstances that lead to scott coming back. yes, scott’s an asshole, but the reason why he came back to kringleton was to rescue his mom. his mom, who ultimately wanted her own son dead so she can live. who called scott every year, and scott probably thought that his mom was genuinely frantic/desperate to see him again because she missed him and not because his own mother wanted to kill him. scott, whose dad most likely knew about the ritual but scott himself didn’t, so he had to live with the thought that his own father didn’t want to be in a family anymore rather than a genuine fear of the town.

god. just. amanda lehan canto dread characters. its the ‘progression’ of parent who doesnt want their child to be harmed in their plans -> parent who Doesn’t know they’re harming their child bc they’re not really a person anymore -> parent who willingly will sacrifice their child for their own self-preservation. its so tragic.

[smallsinger5901]

i actually need to explain the biggest plot twist of the 2015 death note tv drama so uhhhh spoilers here?

so after some events that lead to Himura (the Naomi/Lidner/ide stand-in who worked on the task force until it was revealed she was a spy whose only loyalty was to L and getting the book) and her gang getting the death note in the task force’s possession, Light decides the best way to get it back is by using Mikami/Misa’s book to force Lidner to hand it over and then pull a Naomi. This works, Light is alone in this underground carpark laughing and monologuing to the death note, and then the camera pans. And you just see Soichiro standing there like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

Light turns around as Soichiro starts talking, then shouting at Light to explain himself, explain what he meant when he said he was gonna kill Near and all those kinds of things.

See, just before L died, he told Soichiro to keep an eye on Light at all times. The second Soichiro couldn’t do that, L died, so he hasn’t taken his eyes off Light since then. And he’s noticed. He noticed Light rolling his eyes when Near talked, he noticed Light not caring about Misa, he noticed how Light was willing to write a name in the notebook to prove to Himura it was real when she was stealing it, as if he forgot about the 13 day rule being real. So he followed Light when he left suspiciously, and saw everything.

(This is still not the plot twist btw)

so Light is trying to gaslight his father and tell him it’s just a fake, that Himura was threatening him, and Soichiro just looks utterly disgusted. He finally sees how Light lies through his teeth. He asks where his son went, and if he can have him back.

Light just keeps saying the book is fake.

so soichiro grabs it out of his hand, and tells Light that, if it’s a fake, he shouldn’t have any problem with what he’s about to do.

he starts writing his own name in the notebook. Light starts panicking, but refuses to admit he lied. He tries to convince him not to test it, but soon Soichiro only has one single stoke left of his name to write. He asks Light why.

Light never outright says that he is Kira- but he tries to convince Soichiro that Kira is justified, and that he became Kira to save his father (technically not a lie.)

Soichiro sighs, tells him to open his eyes: then finishes writing his own name.

and you know when Light starts going crazy? Not when his dad finished writing his name. No. he starts physically fighting his father for the book as soichiro starts pouring lighter fluid on it. He is more desperate to stop the death note from being destroyed than he is to stop his own father from killing himself.

and he’s successful. Soichiro dies before he can destroy the notebook.

cut to a hospital room- Sayu is sobbing next to her dad’s body, Light is sitting down trying his best to look grieved. And then the task force enter. They all have a physical reaction to seeing Soichiro Yagami dead. Somebody asks Light what happened. Light says Himura did it. They share a look.

then, in the finale, one episode later, Near has just cornered Light. The task force (and a whole bunch of other cops) are all there, and Light tells the task force that Near is lying, he isnt Kira. But they don’t believe him.

why?

because before he left to follow Light, Soichiro gathered the whole task force together and said one very important thing: If I die now, it’s because Light, as Kira, has killed me.

they then all shoot Light when he tries to write Near’s name.

so YEAH. THAT WAS A LOT. It took me so off guard but there were so many signs, like the task force calling someone as Light walked away at his dad’s funeral being revealed as Near/mello later on. I cannot stress how much i love that goddamn tv show. I love it so much.

[bitchy-rakdos-enchanter]

Gather 'round, my lil' freaks and geeks. Story time.

I once stopped in at a little Rakdos-owned cafe near New Prahv. Don't ask why I was near New Pravh, that is a story for another day but I will say that it involved something that rhymes with shmanibalistic shmomicide. Anyway.

Being near New Prahv, this cafe was pretty straight-laced and low-key. Sure, you could tell it was a Rakdos joint; low lighting, dark colors, splashes of red here and there but nothing that would result in any pearl-clutching or hysterical fainting from the Senators a couple blocks down. Safely edgy, ya know? Somewhere those uptight stiffs could feel like maybe letting a few hairs down after filing the proper paperwork for it.

So, I grab a table, waitress wanders up to get my order. Cute thing, too. Petite, perky. And missing her left eye. It was very clearly an old wound, the scar trailing from the corner of the socket towards her ear was faded and smooth. What struck me as odd was she did nothing to obscure it, rather she seemed to want to amplify it by way of these big, round glasses. So, being the considerate individual I am, I politely inquired.

Now, this was before landing my spot as a Riot Mage, back when I was but a lowly Shredfreak, but she immediately began gushing because she recognized me. Said she had seen me perform a few times and was always blown away. But she went on to explain that when she was little, her parents brought her along to watch a show. And through sheer chance, a thrown dagger shattered on impact with a stone wall with enough force that a shard of it zipped away to catch her in the face.

She told me that her parents whisked her away to some Selesnyan healers who told them they could stop the bleeding but they would only be able to repair the eye if they joined the Conclave for whatever bullshit reason. Being that she was still down to only one, you can guess their decision.

So, I thanked her for sharing, thanked her for her continued patronage, and thanked her for her adoration of me. I signed a napkin for her, placed my order, and that was that. I left her a nice tip and one of my spare knives.

I went back a few times but she was never there and I could only hope that she joined up with a ring or troupe of her own to not only pass along the blessed joy of entertainment, but to show others that there is no point in fear. That leading a fearless life is the only true life. It would have been understandable--if disappointing--for any child to never come near another performance for the rest of their life after such an accident, but she refused to let that fear grab hold.

Blessings upon you, brave girl.

[demonslayedher]

Yushiro & Takeuchi friendship headcanons

--Takeuchi got through the final battle relatively unscathed, so he is quick to check up on Yushiro in the aftermath. Having just lost Tamayo and still being overwhelmed by everything, Yushiro just wants to hide and be swallowed up by his emotions for a while, so Takeuchi's company was initially unwelcome, but it turns out to be really good for Yushiro and he unloads more than he thought he would. Takeuchi is a little confused and can't put all the pieces together, but he it accepts it pretty readily.

--Takeuchi continues to enforce his friendship and company upon Yushiro, even once Yushiro insists he's fine by himself (with Chachamaru, whom Tamayo especially left to him). Takeuchi can't be dissuaded so Yushiro gives in and lets him hang around.

--If there's one thing Takeuchi knows about demons, it's that they are ravenous for human flesh, so it finds it concerning that Yushiro never seems hungry, so this leads to Yushiro explaining why he's a special case who subsists on small amounts of blood collected in ways that don't harm humans. He doesn't like that he has to consume it at all, though. Takeuchi offers his own blood again; because he was a strong Breath-powered swordsman, consuming his blood would mean Yushiro could subsist on even less blood. Yushiro refuses because he'd rather pay poor people who need the money; Takeuchi has a Corp pension and doesn't need it. (More so, it's because Yushiro would find it too weird to consume the flesh of someone he knows personally.) This is an ongoing bit in their friendship, Takeuchi continuing to offer and Yushiro continually refusing.

--Takeuchi takes up painting (based on a Murata-related headcanon stated in this one-shot about Murata & Giyuu finally getting dinner together), and he's eager to show Yushiro one of his early works. The most beautiful thing he could think to paint was a sunrise, for it was always such a long-awaited moment throughout many battles Takeuchi fought while in the Corp. Then it occurs to him that Yushiro doesn't get to appreciate such a beautiful sight, which is why he wants to give him that painting. Yushiro, too much of a tsundere to accept it, snaps back that no sunrise could ever be as lovely as Tamayo was. Takeuchi, not offended, sadly states that he never saw Tamayo, so he wouldn't know. Now in an awkward position for having snapped at someone who did a nice thing, Yushiro has to follow through and attempt to show Takeuchi what Tamayo looked like by making a painting of her. Yushiro has a natural talent for it, and Takeuchi is stunned and praises his skills, but Yushiro is frustrated by not having managed to capture her beauty or essence. He has to try painting another. And another. And another. And another.

--Since Yushiro has already lived a long time, it's hard to see Takeuchi as an equal at first; he seems like a small child. Little by little, it's like watching Takeuchi grow up. For instance, one night Takeuchi happily announces that he's courting the daughter of an old wisteria house who he was always sweet on, some months later he's heartbroken because she was only dating him out of a lingering obligation to the Corp. Yushiro winds up falling into a lot of self-reflection about how hard it must had always been for Tamayo to see him as anything more than a child, for the gap between them was so large that even feelings as deep and sincere as his own could never overcome it. This is around the time Yushiro starts really accepting the companionship of Takeuchi, Tanjiro, and Kiriya (whom he sees like more of an equal more quickly than he did with others, seeing as Kiriya has experience beyond his years than closes the gap Yushiro feels with others).

--Takeuchi, despite being busy with the never-ending affairs of the human world and eventually raising his own family, always makes sure to pop in on Yushiro, for he knows Yushiro will never go out of his own way to seek company. It has to be forced upon him. Yushiro acts annoyed when Takeuchi visits him, but he is always a gracious host and they spend hours talking together. Chachamaru says hello and accepts some petting from Takeuchi but typically stays on Yushiro's lap. Yushiro doesn't drink it, but he serves Takeuchi black tea in fancy dishes, and they sit around on velvet chairs in a low-lit basement filled with Yushiro's paintings. Takeuchi never stops with his outpourings of praise and wonder for Yushiro's talents.

--Takeuchi brings Yushiro new copies of "The Legend of Zenitsu" so he can laugh and be entertained by Yushiro's scathing reviews of them. Takeuchi doesn't know this, but Zenitsu brought out an inferiority complex Yushiro can't stand to admit even to himself; it drives him mad how Zenitsu could paint Nezuko with such perfection on a first try, and in his defensiveness he insists it's because Zenitsu has the model to look at. Yushiro pulls from years of dedicated observation that has honed his memory, so their works can't even be compared (or at least, that's what he tells himself).

--Takeuchi eventually falls ill, and Yushiro goes out of his way to pay visits to him. Takeuchi tries to stay positive about it, but the frustration of feeling himself get weaker and weaker and his own inescapable mortality do get to him from time to time. He tries to be as brave as the people who didn't survive their battles in the Corp, but it's hard. He jokingly insists that even though he's weak and wouldn't make for an appetizing meal anymore, he wishes Yushiro would just eat him for his own sake now, if it gives Takeuchi some means of living forever. But that's all it is, a joke. Yushiro, having been in Takeuchi's position before, is heartbroken to watch him go through it, but admires Takeuchi for handling it so much more bravely.

--He's not able to say so at first, but eventually Yushiro is able to open up and talk about his own experiences with illness, and how he would never wish it upon anyone, he has no regrets about being a demon, for even without Tamayo, he still has a zest for life.

--It's a long decline, but Yushiro hangs around as a hospice nurse, and especially as a friend. By this time, he and Takeuchi truly feel like equals. After Takeuchi's peaceful passing, Yushiro doesn't really keep in touch with them, but he keeps a special eye on on Takeuchi's descendants.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Based on your last post- how would you handle a villain Adrien arc? Would it be from the get-go, or would you have him change sides somewhere along the line? Would it be of his own choice and motivations, or would he be coerced into it? (Or some mix of the two where he disagrees with the method his father does things but goes along because he has the same motive, his mom?)

(Post in question)

Villain Adrien is an incredibly hard sell for me. I can only think of one fic that felt reasonably in character and I think it only worked because it starts after Gabriel's defeat, so you don't have to actually see Adrien being evil. Anything that actually tries to show Adrien willingly hurting others just doesn't work. It doesn't feel like Adrien. Lashing out in the moment might* fit him, but prolonged villainy? Nope. You'd have to take his character through a damnation arc to make it fit. While canon has set him up for one, I don't particularly want to see that. Canon Adrien has suffered enough.

So why would I suggest villain Adrien as a solution?

I have actually spent a good deal of time trying to figure out how to make Adrien work as a villain because it's a semi-popular premise and I enjoy a writing challenge. After a lot of thought, I have a solution that I think would work. I will probably never write this fic, but the basic ideas are simple enough that I can explain the first act and why I think it would work as a way to take Miraculous beyond the Gabriel conflict.

The story would start in much the same way we already see in Origins. Gabriel activates the butterfly, leading to Fu choosing Marinette and Adrien. The big difference is that, this time around, Gabriel and Emilie tell Adrien almost everything. Adrien knows that his mother is in a coma, that the miraculous exist, and that a wish can fix everything. He just doesn't know that the wish has a downside because Gabriel didn't share that little detail. So, when Adrien gets his miraculous, he sees this as a way to fix everything. Just like in canon, he doesn't let Plagg explain everything. Instead, Adrien immediately transforms and seeks out his partner only, this time, he tries to get her earrings off of her. She knows that's a bad thing and runs away, leaving him confused. He goes to his father who is able to get his hands on the ring long enough to command Plagg's silence about the wish's downsides, ensuring Adrien is kept in the dark.

This leads to a short arc where Gabriel uses akumas to draw Ladybug out so her and Chat Noir can "talk" or something along those lines, but it doesn't go well and Adrien isn't okay with attacking the city. It isn't long before he switches sides and Gabriel is defeated, but the damage is done re Ladynoir. Marinette gets to do her "Adrien is evil" first impression, but while it's still a misunderstanding, it's not a minor one that can be solved with an umbrella in the rain. Fu is much more understanding and forgiving, so he doesn't take the black cat back, leading into a wider story where Adrien and Marinette have to fight a new evil while Marinette struggles to see past her first impression. So it's not so much evil Adrien so much as misguided and manipulated Adrien who has to win his Lady's trust and prove that he really is a hero while also working through his own guilt about everything that happened with his father.

*Quick note: canon has Adrien lash out in anger, so I can't say it's wrong to write him like that, but I think it's a massive misstep writing wise. The black cat's power set needs to be in the hands of someone who doesn't lash out in anger. Harsh words, sure, but cataclysms? Hard no. Season five made Adrien come across as totally unsuited to his powers.

[personinthepalace]

Olympia has grown up!

Anna Cathcart as Agent Olympia in Odd Squad (2016) and Kitty Covey in XO, Kitty (2023)

[moeblob]

Ladd: but why would you kill me when I'm willing to kill for you?? Lass: omg you can't just say you'd kill someone, Ladd. that's murder and it's frowned upon.

(and then Ladd does kill for her but it's fine and part of the job)

[defectzim]

TaTr is real and good. <- have a whole story in its head that would NOT fucking happen in canon.

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

.