#so mainly that's where my relief comes from
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Just finished playing Caribert's AQ right now and I have many impressions that I'll write here, subject to be expanded more once I put my thoughts in order (will be posting a small guide to myself of the topics I'll discuss in more depth).
⊠Firstly, about Kaeya. In all honesty it's been a great relief to me to see that eventually he isn't the prince of Khaenri'ah. As I mentioned several months ago here, regencies are a temporary substitution for the actual king in succession and they aren't inheritable. Hopefully for Kaeya lovers out there, his implication in the lore didn't disappoint as I find it really interesting for multiple reasons: 1) he's a descendant of the Abyss Order founder Clothar Alberich and 2) the fact that he, who doesn't seem to be a pure blood Khaenri'ahn (ironically, I've talked about this with a couple of friends because his pupils were different from Dain's and later on to Halfdan's, but I wanted to keep off mentioning this here until we see more Khaenri'ahns to make a bolder statement, it was good to see that it was cleared up), was born to begin with and he seems to have aged well over past Caribert's age and look relatively fine (I say relatively because there is a lot missing here) is a miracle in itself. Specially considering that it's stated that any kid born from Khaenri'ahn blood and someone else pertaining to the reign of the Seven (I'll get to this on a different point) will be born in suffering until inevitably they become a hilichurl.
⧠Secondly, it was very interesting to see the notion of pure blood Khaenri'ahn and how the eyes are a very good lead to tell one from another apart (in this case Kaeya being the only one thus far, I believe). It's even more interesting that there is this differentiation vs the reign of the Seven as this would seal the deal about Khaenri'ahn people belonging to the Era of the Saints and that something must've happened for them to turn their backs to the gods. I'll go longer in a separate post for this concept. Oh, and the different curses and how it was actually teased in We Will Be Reunited: curse of immortality for the "great sinners", the pure blood Khaenri'ahn, and curse of wilderness to those of mixed blood to become hilichurls.
⊠Thirdly, the abyss twin (I'll refer to them as Lumine from now on as that is what seems to be canon in promotional material released by HYV for convenience sake). Scaramouche had teased in his own AQ that "The reason why there are records about your sister in Irminsul... it might have something to do with Khaenri'ah. Apparently, Khaenri'ah was her first destination when she arrived in this world. Plus, she only came to this world because the heavens responded to the summoning." Said summoning being this strong wish to control the Abyss as "if not even the gods can, if Khaenri'ah could, then they'd be able to control everything" and since Lumine was referred as the Abyss herself, this may imply that both she and Aether came to Teyvat via the Abyss (this calls for speculation that the actual true sky may be the Abyss, I'll also be talking about this in a different post). One thing that I don't buy is the fact that she was made princess of Khaenri'ah just like that. I get that this is coming from a position of worship I believe, as people thought that she would bring them new strength and hope, but it's something that I can't help but think that once again is about this factor of the twins having to interfere in everything, partly due to self insert purposes even though Lumine wouldn't count as this, but they're related. Moreover, it's a bit funny to me that Khaenri'ahns would turn their back to the gods but would trust an alien lol (again, I'll go deeper about this in another post but it's reminiscent of how the Second Who Came arrived to Teyvat and I'd dare to put my finger on fire to say that they came from the Abyss too, will expand on this at a later point). To conclude this point, I believe that Lumine must've contributed to the descent of the gods to Khaenri'ah hence she may be doing what she's doing these days out of guilt among other reasons (this is a deduction based in one of Dain's quotes in Collei's miscellany, will get into that in this other post).
⧠Fourth, about the Abyss, Fortune Lector, the Sinner, Clothar and Caribert. This utterly amazed me entirely and I can't wait to make some research to some sources of information to tie better my thoughts on this. I also have some suspicions about who this Sinner may be, but for obvious reasons it's speculating as it can be someone we haven't been introduced to yet. 1000/10 about this. All I'll say is that I know I'll have to look again into the heralds and lectors' descriptions alongside another series of items, so hang in there for me on that one. It's promising.
⊠Lastly, about Dain (lmao). Sorry, it's a bit funny to me that Dain is like the least here and I did wish there was more about him for how little screentime he has and only once a year. But let me tell you that I'm very curious about the fact that despite not having lived what Lumine did, his subconscious and instincts told him that something happened there. Not only that, but guess what direction he took to investigate more when he left both times? Exactly, the direction Caribert took when he left the cottage. I was also interested in how erosion affects him too. Oh, but alsoâ where the heck was Dain 500 years ago if he did go with Lumine to Sumeru too? How the hecky the Aranara just talk about her? I knew something wasn't right when I decided to go divergent in that regard.
This is all for now. It may look like it's a lot but after revisiting the information I want to revisit, there will be more coming up. Overall this quest was great despite my major discrepancy with Lumine being the princess of Khaenri'ah, but as for the rest it was a really great ride. Can't wait to see Dain for his next yearly outing next year đ
#okay maybe it /was/ a little bit of a long ramble#but this quest warrants it#I'll go dig something for dinner#then I'll look into some things I want#in order to make a headcanon/meta post#to explain a bit the Kaeya thing#I know how the fandom at large#treat Dain when it comes to Kaeya#not in RP alone#fanfics fanarts you name it#and I also know that it might not be#as exciting if it isn't the case of Kaeya being a prince#I've been wanting to write more in depth#for ages with someone#because they do have a solid thing to go from#so mainly that's where my relief comes from#sometimes it's hard when you're one of very few#that sees something that others don't#hence my insecurity at times too#in this regard#but this taught me to trust myself more#and so I will#okay will be back in a bit now!
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â đđ â âDARLING, CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?
a series of (separate) fictional stories including true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. these stories take place in the heian eraâan era where the king of curses ruled the jujutsu society in terms of power & strengthâand focuses mainly on his harem. àŸ
note. there are general warnings that are implemented in each piece down below ; size difference, being the main one. for more specific warnings please read the tags on each work.
requests are open, check the req rules on the authorâs blog.
status. ongoing, until said otherwise by the author.
ONE SHOTS. IâLL BE YOUR GIRL, LET YOU TASTE IT
sukunaâs favorite concubineâs not-so-hidden jealousy ; sfw to suggestive
trying to break his favorite concubineâs innocence ; nsfw
dealing with harassment from the other concubines ; hurt to comfort, fluff, sfw
claiming ownership over his favourite concubine ; nsfw
letting his favorite concubine try to be on top of him for once ; nsfw
only kissing his favorite concubine and no one else ; sfw
sukunaâs favorite concubine stands up for herself, finally ; sfw
sukunaâs favorite concubine being clingy ; sfw
using his favorite concubine as stress relief ; nsfw
showing off his clingy favorite concubine in the throne room ; nsfw
his favorite concubines being injured and hiding it ; sfw
breaking his favorite concubineâs heart ; sfw
sukunaâs urges take over when being intimate with his favorite concubine [i bet on losing dogs] ; (n)sfw
sukunaâs jealousy evolves into another bloodbath ; sfw
soon: teaching his favorite (bratty) concubine some proper manners ; nsfw
DRABBLES. I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, YEAH, JUST TAKE IT
using his tummy mouth to please his concubine ; nsfw
sukuna coming back home ; sfw
HCS / OTHER. MY NAME IS WHATEVER YOU MAKE IT
sukunaâs favourite little concubine on her period ; sfw
tba.
CR. STTORU 2024
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my baby
pairings; loser!ellie williams x cheerleader! reader
cw; interalized homophobia, angst, tribbing, fingering (r! recieving), fluff, bullying (kinda), making out, slur, petnames like âbaby & princessâ , not proof read yet!
wc; 17k
life has never been better, you were handed the world at the age of 6. you never had to worry about having no friends, or not having the latest designer bag, and certainly not having everybody wrapped around your finger. you were a cheerleader & from that only, everyone respected you. you dedicated yourself into looks: always on diets, hitting the gyms, getting your nails done, having the most expensive makeup and so much more. you were the most outgoing girl known to mankind, never missing a rager or party. your friend groups were mainly other cheerleaders, and the jocks on the football team. they were assholes, but you didnât care because so were you.
you never once paid attention in class, especially english. clicking your pen and having your eyes everywhere but the board. you snap out of your daze when your teacher announces that there will be a partner project, and she would assign the groups. you hear your name, and you pray that you get one of your friends but instead you hear the name ellie williams.
âyou cannot be fucking seriousâ you mutter under your breath, looking at ellie whose a row infront of you.
âwhat was that?â the teacher asked you. ânothing.â you mock her tone, earning a laugh from your classmates.
âalright then everybody get to your partners we donât have all day!â she claps her hands, urging everyone to switch their seats.
you stay in your seat, motioning ellie to
come where you are. why would you have to move? ellie rolled her eyes, not having the best impression of you either. âlook,â ellie says âi wouldnât have picked you either.â you scoff, âgreat to know weâre on the same page!â you look at her green eyes, and the way she flutters her eyelash. you were about to say something until you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was a jock, and you end up talking to him for the rest of the period, not caring to look back at ellie, who was doing all the work. âanother prissy bitch.â ellie thinks to herself.
as soon as the bell rings, ellie packs her stuff and leaves as soon as she could. she sees her friends, dina and jesse, and she sighs in relief. âyou would not believe who i got paired up with.â dina and jesse both furrow their brows in unison. âa CHEERLEADER! i swear this world is against me, i already know im gonna have to do this project with myself.â dina replies, âyikes , you have it unlucky. i would NOT wanna be you.â jesse laughs and that makes ellie roll her eyes & reply âthanks dina that makes me feel a million times better.â âwell jesse and I have to get going, good luck with her!â dina yells while grabbing jesse by the hand and dragging him through the hallways. ellie sighs and puts her back against the locker.
you put your bag down, and flop down on your bed chewing on some protein bars after practice. you grab your laptop and check your grade book. and thats when you see it. youâre gonna fail english class. âshit shit shit!â you tell yourself, pacing around your room in circles. you couldnât give to shits if you were failing english, but what you did care about is being on academic probation. if youâre put on academic probation, you wonât be able to cheer. you canât let that happen. so you grabbed your phone, and started texting everyone for ellieâs number. when you finally receive a message with her number, you smile and immediately text her.
âheyyyâ
âwho is this?â
âyour partner in english.â
âwhy are you texting me?â
âdo you wanna come over tomorrow to work on it?â
âis this a joke?â
â why would i be? i have practice, so is 7:30 good?â
âyeah, ill be there just give me the address.â
itâs the next day and you come from practice drenched in sweat. you go into the shower, making sure its cold so you can relax. as you get out, you put on a robe and some uggs slipper and you hear the bell ring.
you walk over to answer, the fact ellie was supposed to come over completely slipped your mind. you open the door, and you see ellie.
âshit! is it 7:30 already?â
ellie takes full notice youâre in nothing but a robe and she blushes.
âyeah.â
âfuck im so sorry- practice had me exhausted-â
ellie reassures you, telling you it was okay because she found it kinda cute that your hair was wet and your lips were plump.
âhere ellie, you can come inside, just stay in my room, iâll get changed and iâll be there in a sec.
ellie nods, and sinks down into your bed. she takes a moment to take in everything in your room. she took note of the way your walls were stripped pink and white to the little ballerina jewelry box that looked antique.
you walk into your room handing her some snacks. âdo you want some?â âsure.â
ellie says. & now shes starting to think youâre not a total bitch.
this time, you ended up getting no work done but for a different reason. you spent your time gossiping to ellie, about who slept with who, or who did what. you never realized how pretty ellie truly was. her freckles decorated her face like how constellations decorate the sky. you look down into her lips, and ellie stops talking about whatever she was. ellie and you spend a brief moment just gazing into each otherâs eyes.
you both get flustered and she breaks the silence by saying âum- do you have a hair tie?â âyeah of course hereâ and you hand her one.
you look at the time and gasp, itâs almost 11:30. were you guys really talking for that long? âellie, do you wanna sleep over? or i can walk yo-â âno, ill sleep over itâs fine.â you nod. grabbing blankets for her, âyou can sleep on my bed iâll sleep on my couch.â ellie scoffs âno fucking way, iâm not taking your bed, i can have the couch.â
and due to both of your guysâ stubbornness, you are laying next to eachother, in the same bed staring at the ceiling. you look over and you see ellie has fallen asleep. she looked so beautiful and her front hair pieces fell on her face, capturing her beautiful. you move your hand to tuck it but then you get this wave of disgust. not to her, but to yourself.
what the fuck am i doing? I canât like girls. am i stupid? iâm not gonna be seen as some dyke on the cheerleader team. my reputation would be ruined.
you ended up falling asleep teary eyed, scared to accept if these feelings are really true and maybe theyâll go away.
itâs almost summer, and the feelings are still lingering and infact they are stronger than before. after acing the project, you still
continued to hang out with ellie. you and her hung out every friday, and it became a ritual. you were starting to fall in love with her, and you knew there was no way out. everytime your asshole friends said anything about her that was negative, you jumped to defend her name like a knight. âyou know the project deadline was months ago, while do you still hangout with her.â slightly irritated you snap, âshe isnât even bad once you get to know her, sheâs funny and sweet.â
it wasnât any different for ellie either, expect she was 100% convinced you were straight. you never once spoke of your sexuality to her, and for any matter guys in general but why would you like her? she grew up playing with worms, while you grew up going on constant vacations. but even though she thought it would never happen, she asked the universe for this one thing. she prayed to a lord she didnât even believe in, hoping he will for once listen to her.
God works in mysterious ways because youâre sitting in ellieâs room drinking vodka blasting music. itâs odd how vodka can make somebody so honest. ellie was rambling about a story with an ex she had named cat, and drama between the two. she developed a habit of gossiping, probably from you. to make sure youâre still listening, she asks you. âhow about you, any boy trouble?â its silent, and you look at her and start sobbing. ellieâs heart drops down to her stomach and instantly grabs you, pulling you close to her. âhey was it something i said? im sorry-â âno!â you manage to yell out between your broken sobs. âi donât think i like guys.â âwhat?â ellie says, shocked from what she heard.
âwhen i look at you, itâs not the same for any guy. sure iâve made out with guys, but not even that gives me the same feeling of when im talking to you. i want it to be you so bad, ellie.â you hiccup, tears staining your eyes. âbut this is all new for me, and i hate myself for being this way, i had everything anyone could ask for and it feels like im throwing it all away.â
ellieâs mind is going in all directions, the fact you like her. the fact shes finally getting her prayers answered. she pushes it to the side, because what you need is comfort. ellie holds you tight. so tight, you cannot wiggle out of her grasp. âhey baby, it all works out at the end, your existence isnât a sin, people who truly love you, will accept you for who you are. and you donât have to figure things out right now, take your time.â ellie replies, hovering her hand over your face to wipe your tears.
youâre looking up at her, inching your face closer to hers. she leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. youâre eager for more, so you grab her hair from behind and sloppily slid your mouth inside. ellie pulls away from the kiss, to get air, saliva connecting you guys to each other.
âhey els?â you say softly, having your knees tucked in.
âyeah?â
âsince school is ending, thereâs gonna be a rager. do you wanna come?â
ellie smiles at you, accepting your offer.
âiâll be there.â
itâs the day of the rager, and ellieâs at her house with dina and jesse on her bed. âare you sure you really wannq go?â dina asks. ellieâs throwing her clothes everywhere, looking for an outfit to wear. âyeah,â jesse adds on âshe doesnât look like somebody who would hang out with you, what if this is all a prank?â ellie stops to look at them. âguys, i know youâre concerned but trust me on this, okay?â they nod their heads. âwhatever happens, you can always tell us okay? whatever you choose to do , weâre with you.â ellie smiles and pulls them into a group hug. sheâs wearing a wife pleaser, red flannel, and some jeans. shes tying her converse, she walks out the door, saying âwish me luck!â
she arrives at the house, and the music is so loud she can hear it from where sheâs at. nervously she turns to twist the door knob and instantly she goes looking for you. sheâs happy today after what happen yesterday, and sheâs thinking to herself nothing can change her mood. until she saw you. you had a red solo cup in your hand. you were with a jock, who made it pretty clear he wanted you. was ellie a joke? was everything you said to her nothing after all? her friends were right. clenched fists, she turns to head out of the party, rushing to her car trying not to cry.
the jock wouldnât take no for an answer, youâve made it clear youâre not interested in him. âdonât be like that, i see the way you look at me.â you scrunch up your nose in disgust. âwell you must be fucking blind.â and thats when you see in the corner of your eye, ellie. âfuck!â you murmur to yourself. ellie is already going towards the exist. as sheâs walking down the steps of the porch. you scream, âwait! itâs not what it looks like, i swear-â
âdo you think im a fucking joke? you made me feel like a fool.â
âellie i swear nothing happened i was-â
âwere you telling him your pranked worked? were you laughing about me? itâs done. i hope you had your fun.â
ellie is about to turn your back on you.
âellie im in love with you!â you yell. loud enough
that people from the outside were looking at what was happening.
ellie looks around, âyouâre drunk.â
âyes im drunk but that doesnât change the fact im in love with you. the man that was talking to me. i was telling him to leave me alone. i only have eyes for you ellie! anybody who knows me has to get to know you first!â you breath starts to hitch, knowing youâre about to cry and how people are listening but you no longer care.
âi use to cry, praying that God took these feelings away. now im praying to God for letting me meet you. God knew I needed you Ellie.â
ellie stands there in disbelief, she doesnât know what to say but her heart is about to explode. she runs to you, takes your hand and takes sits you in the passenger seat. closing the door, she starts the car and starts driving. she looks over at you, and youâre already staring at her. she places a hand on your thigh, and caresses it. âyouâre perfect in every way, ways im not. i couldnât believe somebody as amazing as you would want me, and im sorry.â
you smile, and place your hand on top of hers, âitâs okay, we were both pretty caught upâ you giggle.
she would fight the world to hear that giggle again.
she pulls up to your driveway, and shes about to drive off but you ask her to stay the night. and how could she say no to that pretty face of yours?
itâs all dark, but you hold her hand and she follows you into your room. you play some music on your record player.
âdo you like mazzy star els?â
âi dont listen to her much, but her voice is pretty.â
you walk up to her, and hold her by the waist. ellie looks down at you and pressed her lips onto yours. you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. you start getting hungrier for more, and you open your mouth to let her tongue slip into yours. the kisses start getting needier, and she walks you until your laying back on your bed. you straddle her waist, and she puts a hand up your dress causing you to whine.
âyouâre okay with this right?â
âof course els, please hurry.â
âplease what?â
you look away from her gaze, shyly, you fiddle with the seams of ellies wife pleaser and whisper to her , âplease touch me, it can only be you.â and with that, ellie is slipping your dress off. kissing your collarbone all the way down to the welts of your breast. she takes off your matching set of panties and bra. and her cold hands on pinching your nipples make your back arch into her touch. she sucks on your nipples, flicking her tongue on it back and forth earning whimpers from you each and every time.
ân-need you els..â you stutter. âim not going anywhere baby.â she chuckles, her breath on your beast making you close your eyes in pleasure. âim gonna touch you now okay? tell me when to stop.â she slides her fingers between your folds.
âalready so wet for me princessâ and as she hovers to your face to kiss you, her front pieces of her hair are touching your own face. youâre sloppily making out with her, moaning into her mouth.
then she puts two of her fingers in, feeling you instantly clench around them. you start moaning louder and louder âellie! ellie faster!â and she listens to you, curling her fingers even faster before hitting you in the g spot. your thighs start shaking. and your grabbing onto ellieâs fore arm, clawing it for any way to feel relief.
your moans reach an all time high and you know youâre almost there. im- im about to cum els!â and she starts sucking on your neck, âlet it out for me baby, you deserve it come on.â and you reach your climax, sweating and panting. she takes her fingers out of you and sucks them. âyou taste so good, everything about you is so sweet.â
still fucked out, you murmured incoherent sentences. âi wanna feel you against me els, please, please.â and ellie looks at you, grabbing your waist to pull you up. you looked at her in this love dovey expression and her heart skips a beat. âcan i take this off?â you ask and she gulps and nods. you take off her flannel. then wife pleaser. then her jeans. leaving her in underwear and her sports bra, which now youâre taking off her underwear.
as for the most part both of you are naked, you place your cunt onto hers. you grind against her lightly. both of you whimpering sweet nothings. âi love you els i love you i love youâ as you both of you are sweating, holding onto eachother, kissing as you slide on her and feel both of your holes clenching around nothing. âyouâre doing so good fâ meâ ellie blabbers. both of you are starting to reach your orgasms as you both moan in a higher octave, clawing at each others back, and feeling yourself twitch.
âi think im gonna cum i think-â âcome with me, be a good girl for me please.â she tells you needly, but you canât even tease her because you want this just as much, if not more. both of you reach your climax, beads of sweat running down each of your fore heads. you disconnect yourself from her cunt. both of your arousals sticking to each other in a way your bodies seem like theyâre made to mold into each otherâs.
you collapse onto the back of your bed. ellie crawls to lay on your chest. kissing you over and over again, as a way to praise you. you giggle and run your hands through her hair, massaging her scalp.
âshouldnât we clean up ellie?â you inquire, and you feel her breath on you again as she says âi wanna stay like this.â you nod and you bring blankets over you guys.
âim in love with you too.â ellie tells you.
âi think you showed me already.â you laughed.
âso are we girlfriends?â ellie asks you, looking up at you.
you kiss ellie, and tell her âif you go to every one of my practices.â
safe to say there was never a practice ellie didnât go to.
#the last of us#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie willams x reader#ellie fluff#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie x fem reader#ellie tlou#loser!ellie#cheerleader!reader#wlw post#wlw smut#wlw#wlw ns/fw#lesbian pride#lesbian#wlw yearning#wlw community#wlw blog#wlw love#wlw and nblw only#tlou smut#smut#agnst#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#tlou game
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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
#wish this was better written!!! but im sleepy!!#writeblr#pride#lgbt#but for real please help me make these lesbian wings. gonna get the supplies tomorrow . i have#no sewing machine but know how to hand sew#have never done a good job with tie dye so idk why im just runnin with it#ps im specifically going to boston pride next weekend come hang out with me
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MIGUEL OâHARA â and places heâd kiss you in
rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesnât exist so now weâre here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) âĄ
â his lab, at work
like iâve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isnât the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when itâs just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.
that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether itâs to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.
he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments youâre both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. heâll tell you about the day heâs had, you will tell him about yours in return, and heâll wonder how he got so lucky.
â the park, early mornings
iâd like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.
you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when youâre tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.
there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an âuncoordinatedâ outfit (according to you. but heâd be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.
he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.
â at a restaurant, dinner time
on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if itâs too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.
either way, those nights are the ones where miguelâs romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply canât stop and wonât stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesnât know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when youâre around.
while youâre in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, heâll break his âlittle to no PDAâ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.
â bonus: at home
when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.
normally, if youâre doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if youâre on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.
he will kiss you on your neck, or when heâs really tired, just leave his lips there. heâll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.
i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man
#across the spiderverse#spiderman: across the spiderverse#atsv#spiderverse#miguel oâhara#miguel o'hara#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel oâhara x you#miguel oâhara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#x reader#x gn!reader#miguel oâhara fluff#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x y/n#miguel oâhara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fluff
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Trapped
Pairing: Yan!stalker!jungkook x fem!reader
released: 11.08.24
Warnings: kidnapping, chasing, hunting, possesive behavior, obsessive behavior, unprotected sex, sex in the woods, blindfolded, eating out from behind, kissing, hickeys, pet names, degrading, praise, hair pulling, slapping, reader gives in, edging, spitting, whipping (one time), the story takes a dark turn at the end, meanie Jk, lmk if I missed any!
Note: I kinda rushed it at the end but I still hope you liked it <3 keep in mind that this a one shot
ââââ
âOh baby,â he laughs, âcome out. If you come out now, I wonât go that hard on you, sweetheart.â He coos, trying to convince you to leave your hiding spot.
Your heart is pounding so fast, youâre so scared, you feel like passing out. Currently youâre hiding from your stalkerâ Jungkook.
It started with sweet notes and flowers, delivered to your doorstep to expensive gifts to him texting you and telling you to keep your distance from a guy, youâve gotten close with. To him forcing you to wear a necklace, which had a tracker in it, but you didnât know that.
To him stalking you and not trying to hide it. He would follow you everywhere you went. Wether you went out shopping with your friends or visiting your parents.
You havenât told anyone âbout him. Not your friends, parents or co- workers. Mainly because he threatened you.
On your way home from a late convenience food run, he pulled you into an alley, clasping his hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming.
He dragged you to his car and shoved you in it. Once he got inside, he fastened your seatbelt and wore a mask, âwhat the hell, you motherfucker! Leave me this instantââ
You couldnât yell at him anymore once gas filled your lungs and you passed out.
âYou scream too much,â Jungkook mutters and caresses your hair.
He takes off his mask and starts driving towards his destination.
ââââ
You groan as the pain hits you, your head is paining so hard and your muscles feel limb, âwhere am I?â
You stand up from the bed and immediately fall down, âwhy canât I feel my legs?â You mumble, panic taking over you.
You struggle to get up but once you do, you start taking a look at the room youâre in. Itâs a big room, with no windows unfortunately but it has a king sized bed with silky black covers, a mirror above the bed. The wall behind the bed is painted black, the rest of the walls are white. A walk in closet and you notice a door. You walk towards the door but stop in your track when you hear water. Itâs a bathroom.
Somebody is in it.
Somebody is taking a shower.
The humming comes to a halt and the faucet gets turned off, thatâs when you start breathing heavily and start backing away from the door.
You run to the main door and try opening it but to your luck, itâs locked. You bite your lip and start thinking, âI should pretend like Iâm still passed out.â You mumble and run to the bed and lay in the exact position you where in when you woke up. Hopefully he will leave the room and leave it unlocked so you can escape.
After a few minutes you hear the bathroom door open. You can hear your heart pounding so fast. Footsteps are heard, you assume he walks to the walk- in closet to put on his clothes.
Once he gets dressed he leaves the room.
âThat is my chance.â
You run to the door eagerly but stop abruptly when you hear footsteps, âshit!â you think to yourself and run to the bed again.
You hear a light chuckle before the bathroom door closes again.
You hear the blow dryer go off, ânow it is my chance.â
You quietly run out and down the stairs, the house is so big, itâs complicated. You try finding the door to freedom but canât, âfuck him and this houseâŠ.â You mumble and finally find the door.
You sigh in relief and your eyes lit up seeing the door.
âYeah, Iâd like that.â an arm wraps itself around your waist from behind, and youâre pulled back, bumping into a buff chest.
A strong cologne fills your nostrils, looking down at your waist, you see a big, tattooed hand wrapped around you. You feel his breath hitting your nape, your hair standing up.
You gulp and slowly turn your head around, to look at your kidnapper.
Your eyes almost fall out of their sockets upon looking at his breathtaking face.
Cute big round eyes, pillowy soft lips, a cute mole under his lower lip, cute cheeks, a scar on the right one.
Magnificent.
A chuckle brings you out of your trance.
Thatâs when your realize. Youâre in your kidnappers arms. No matter how handsome he is, this is wrong. He kidnapped you.
âWho are you?â You try freeing yourself from his arms, âwhat do you want from me? Whyââ he places his forefinger on your lips, silencing you.
âYou talk too much.â He draws his face closer, âI will answer all of your questions once you eat, alright?â
If you want answers, you have toâŠ.. eat? Your kidnapper is offering you food?
âCome.â He whispers softly, taking your hand in his big one. He takes you to the kitchen you saw earlier. The whole kitchen is backâ which honestly gives off his vibe. You obviously donât know him, he kidnapped you! But from what youâve seen while searching for the door to escape. You saw his living room and kitchen, theyâre black tooâ all the furniture and he has a few portraits hanging on the walls, which give off a dark vibe. You saw some red too (the furniture, no blood).ïżŒïżŒ
ïżŒHe makes you sit at the little table, itâs a classic glass table. Itâs squared and has exactly two black chairs.
âI cooked your favorite!â He places down your favorite dish. How does he know that? Who is he?
For all you know it could be poisoned, your kidnapper sits down in front of you and lovingly smiles at you, âdonât worry, I didnât poison it.â He take a spoon full to prove himself, slowly you start eating it.
The whole time while youâre eating, he is staring at you. You just keep looking down, you donât dare to look at him. He might be sweet to you, but his eyes they scare you. Theyâre cute and big and round but theyâre so dark.
They look sinister.
âIâm done eating, will you tell me now?â You carefully ask. You donât wan to provoke him or push his buttons, you donât know what heâs like. For all you know he could just be pretending to be âniceâ to hide his true self.
âSo,â he begins, putting his chopsticks down, âmy name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, and you are here because I want you to.â
ââŠ.what?â Confusion is clearly written all over your face, âyou canât just kidnap me!â The confusion turns into rage, Jungkook just sighs and stands up, âI didnât kidnap you, I took whatâs rightfully mine, which is you. Youâre mine, you belong to me and only me.â
This man is delusional.
âIâm my own person! I belong only to myself!â You also stand up. Jungkook chuckles lowly to himself before walking over to you, caging you between the wall and him, âthatâs where youâre wrong, sweetheart.â He puts his hand on the wall, âI own you, mind, body and soul.â He devilishly smirks.
ââââ
Itâs been four days.
Four days of you being locked up.
Four days are enough to tell you, this man is mentally unstable.
After yesterdayâs incident in the kitchen, he locked you up in his room, like a prisoner. He would bring you your meals and sweet talk to you but you would just ignore him.
That raged him, but he tried not to snap at you. He knows if he yells at you, you wouldnât talk to him ever, so he tried to be patient, but youâre giving his patience a run on thin ice.
Itâs been four days.
Enough is enough.
He barges in his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He doesnât see you on the bed, he knocks on the bathroom door. You donât answer.
He grows nervous. What if you escaped? Thereâs no way you couldâve gotten out of the room. It doesnât have any windows, he locked the door, he took the key with him.
He starts breathing heavily out of anger. He already is angry. He gave you enough time to accept him and you just ignored all his efforts. Youâre lucky he loves you or else he would have killed you.
âShit,â he walks towards the door. In the corner of his eye he notices something shiny black, looking down he sees a bobby pin.
He lowly chuckles, picking it up, he keeps it in his pocket, âyouâre so done, y/n.â
ââââ
âWhere do I go??â You pant as you run aimlessly in the woods.
You feel like youâre running in circles.
You suddenly stop running and stand completely still.
âI know youâre here and can hear me. Games over, come out now.â
Your breath hitched in your throat and you feel like crying. Quickly but quietly you run behind a tree, crouching down and putting your hand over your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping your mouth.
âOh baby,â he laughs, âcome out. If you come out now, I wonât go that hard on you, sweetheart.â He coos, trying to convince you to leave your hiding spot.
You hear his boots walking in the opposite direction youâre in, looking behind bushes and trees, âIâve been very patient with you, my love. But you donât seem to like that, huh?â He laughs, âwant me to go hard on you, is that it? Baby wants to get a punishment? Wants to get handcuffed to our bed and get senselessly fucked? Or yet better, wanna get fucked here in the open, for everyone to see?â The way he is talking is disgusting but still gets you wet, âwanna get stuffed full with my cock?â He continues talking in that seductive tone.
Jungkook smirks. He knows where youâre hiding, he knew all along but decided to play a little game with you. He is giving you false hope and acting like he doesnât know where youâre currently hiding.
Nasty images flash in your mind, him bending you over and taking you from behind. You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts.
Jungkook walks around a bit more and finally decides to approach you. He walks up behind you, his left hand in his pocket and the other one a few inches away from your hair, âyou know I can hear your breathing, right?â He tightly grips your hair and yanks your head back, your eyes widening at the sight of your stalker standing above you, eyes dark, filled with list and that thrill. He smirks at you, âyouâre not very good at hiding, but maybe at running.â He says, head tilted to the side.
Before you can ask him what he means, youâre standing on your feet, face inches away from his.
âIâm gonna give you a chance, you deserve that for all the effort.â He snickers, voice filled with mockery.
He clearly means your poor attempt at escaping.
âYou can run anywhere you want, if you get to the road without me catching you then youâre free.â He closes the distance between you two, âbut if I catch youâŠâ he doesnât complete his sentence, âIâll even give you a thirty second head start.â He smirks.
âOne⊠two⊠three⊠fourâŠâ
It takes you a few seconds to process his words, âtimes ticking, baby.â He stops counting, âor do you want that punishment? Knew you were a thirsty little slut.â He scoffs, beginning to count again.
ââŠfive⊠sixâŠâ
You ignore the wetness between your thighs.
You hastily turn around and start sprinting in the direction you were originally going to.
While running you take a look behind you, he is standing there with a shit eating grin. You scoff and focus forward. Droplets of water hit your shoulders and you look above, the clouds are gray, the sun is gone and itâs starting to rain heavily. Your hair gets wet, like the rest.
Youâre sure itâs already been thirty seconds, a huge smile takes over your face as soon as you see the road with cars passing by.
âFinally made it.â You smile in victory and run faster towards the road.
âYou thought you could escape?â Jungkook laughs in amusement and you cry out of pain as he yankes your hair back, âlet me go!â
âA deals a deal, right baby?â He smirks, âyou didnât get to the road and I caught you, you lost.â
You gasp in surprise when he picks you up like a sack of potatoes, he grips your thighs and starts walking. Your face is right in front of his plump ass, âwow, what a great view.â You mumble and look at his long legs. I really thought I could out-run him, not only does he have long legs but also looks athletic.
Jungkook starts humming a tune.
The clouds are still gray and itâs lightly raining now, âJungkââ âNo.â
You shut up and donât dare to say anything again.
ââââ
âOw!â You groan in pain when he pins you against a tree.
âShut up.â He unbuttons your jeans and quickly shoved his hands in your panties before you can say anything, âknew it,â he smirks, eyes looking at yours, âthe chase got you wet, huh?â He chuckles before bringing up his fingers, putting them in his mouth, tasting you, he hums in satisfaction.
âSweet, just like I thought.â He whispers, his hands traveling from your throat to the hoodie youâre wearing. In a swift motion he pulls it off, leaving you only in your unbuttoned jeans.
âNo bra?â He grins, raising his pierced brow.
You donât try to fight him anymore, you just need him.
After leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck he pushes down your jeans, turning you around he gets on his knees, eating you out from behind.
He softly suck on your folds and you moan, rocking your hips against his face, he places his hands on your hips, steadying you and keeping you in place.
âIâm close!â You warn him once your orgasm in nearing. He is no longer going soft but harsh.
He pulls his tongue out and stands up, âI was close⊠whyâd you stop?â You pout turning around to find him looking at you with a stupid grin on his face, âdo you think you deserve to cum after pulling that stunt?â His face switches to serious.
You do not reply him, but stare at him. The rain is getting stronger and his hair is getting wet, giving him wavy hair (190811 Jk). He pushes your jeans further down, below your knees and gives you a loud smack on your aching cunt.
You gasp, clinging to his shoulders, âyouâre not allowed to cum until I say so.â He spits on your chest, his spit going between the valley of your breasts.
He licks his lips and turns you around giving each ass cheek a loud smack. You whimper and hold onto the tree tightly. Your hands hurt from gripping the tree so hard but thatâs the least worry you have right now.
You hear a belt ruttling in the back and assume he is taking it of or lowering his jeans.
He pushes his jeans along with his briefs down revealing his long and thick length. He takes a step closer and slaps his cock against your aching cunt.
You moan, trying to reach behind you to touch him, âah ah ah,â he holds your wrist in a loose but not too tight grip, âno touching.â Thatâs all he says before tying your hands behind your back with his belt.
You feel him drap something over you eyes, âand no looking.â You desperately whine, âbut I wanna see and touch you.â
He mischievously laughs, a dark laugh filled with no empathy, âyou think you deserve that? Ya think you deserve to look or touch me?â He whispers in your ear, his lips touching the shell, âno baby,â he laughs, âIâm so pissed at you for being so rude to me.â He hisses, âAfter showing my love to you and cook for you, you ignore me? And you even tried to escape.â
âIâm going to punish you.â He growls in your ear, pulling your hair back, he chuckles when he sees tears in your eyes, âoh baby, youâre already crying? But we havenât even started yet.â He pouts.
He tried to be gentle and sweet with you but that didnât work so being harsh is the only solution now.
He loosens (is that even a word?) his grip on your hair and pushes your body forward, your chest is now touching the tree, your nipples grazing past the rough texture of the tree, making them hard.
He places his hand on your throat while the other hand is playing with your folds, pulling them apart and softly massaging them. Circling his index finger around your tight hold thatâs just waiting to be filled with his hot seeds.
A painful loud cry escapes your throat when he pushes his hard length in you in one go. He squeezes your throat, shortly cutting off any air.
He groans in pleasure, âfuck, so tight.â He talks to himself and doesnât give you any time to adjust and just starts moving harshly.
âI gave you food over your head, a shelter, I gave you foodâ fuck, I even cooked for you, baby. I provided you with everything, most importantly my love. And this is how you thank me? You run away?â He thrusts into you, hard. His painfully deep thrusts have your legs shaking.
âUngrateful bitch.â He slaps your cunt while keeping his pace the same, hard, deep, fast.
âDo ya feel me here?â He places his hand that was previously chocking you on your tummy, feeling himself inside you.
Youâre in a haze, not hearing him.
âDumb slut is forgetting where she is.â He mockingly chuckles, he places his hands on your hips again and slows down his thrusts, not wanting either of you to come yet.
He frees your hands and whips your ass, lightly, with the belt.
You scream at the unknown pain, âstop please!â You cry out, placing your hands on the tree to support you.
He rips your dress off you.
Jungkook picks the speed up again, âtoo much!â You tell him.
He pushes you against him so your back is leaning against his front. You feel his abs on your back.
You moan when he hits your g-spot.
âYouâre gonna take it,â he whispers into your ear, âyouâre gonna take all of it. Everything I give you, yeah?â
You moan and nod your head, youâre on cloud nine, heâs fucking you so goodâŠ. You hate to admit it.
âCould be in you forever.â He moans, biting your shoulder, softly.
He smirks when you start fucking him back, âknew you were gonna give in.â He mocks you, playing with your nipples.
You start whimpering and whining and your moans are getting high pitched, thatâs when he knows youâre getting close.
He is getting close too. He leaves kisses along your neck and cums into you with a grunt. Before you can cum too, he pulls out.
He strokes his cock and more cum come spurting out and lands on your ass.
You breath heavily as a sentence crosses your mind.
âYouâre not allowed to cum.â
He turns you around by your shoulders and looks at your silent form, âyouâre getting it now?â He asks but your focus is somewhere else.
How did he put his pants on so fast? You didnât even hear him.
âYouâre mine.â He smirks.
He picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder, all naked. With his cum leaking out of your gaping hole and his cum on your ass.
You sigh.
You
Are
Defeated.
ââââ
Do NOT copy or translate
Thank you for reading đ
Masterlist
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#y/n#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jk smut#stalker#yandere jungkook#yandere#toxic#obssesive#obsessive yandere#obsessive love#possessive#possesive love#possesiveness#possessive yandere
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how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru
.. itâs three pm, youâre sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except thereâs one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).
content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic
when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just canât help it.
youâre tired. so tired of the constant headachesâthe migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.
the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, itâs much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room thatâs assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.
so⊠thatâs exactly what you do.
you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but youâre so dizzy that you can barely even move.
ây/n?â
-
the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.
heâs⊠here.
your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, heâs here.
head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. heâs crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. heâs saying somethingâŠ
âwhere does it hurt, baby?â youâre still so stunned that you canât find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. âis it okay if i massage that area, angel?â
throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because heâs hereâheâs present, and he cares about you.
you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breathâa breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.
satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. youâre starting to burn up. âs more than a headache, baby. iâm gonna take you to the bed, okay?â
this was going to be a long afternoon.
he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoruâs presence makes it slightly more bearable. âmy poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?â
you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. âmaybe. the headaches are getting worse.â
âyou should take it easier on yourself. i canât have you cryinâ like this. not on my watch,â he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. âyâknow, if your migraines were a person, iâd make sure to hollow purple âem. no hesitation.â
a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.
you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. âjust go to sleep, baby. iâll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?â
âhm⊠i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-â
âalright.â he says, making a mental note that he should make food. âiâm going to go make you something, okay? i promise iâll be back soon.â
â...donât burn down the kitchen, please.â
âi canât promise that, though.â
-
âyou found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stoveâŠâ
satoruâs a little embarrassed to say that he doesnât know how to cook.
growing up, heâs had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching himâgojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old manâhow to make instant soup.
âthe stove?â
âyeahâŠ? donât tell me you donât know-â
â-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.â it feels like heâs trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like itâs his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it wonât budge. âwhat the hell?-â
âsatoru-â it seems like the azure-eyed man doesnât hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase âwith this treasure i summonâ, but thatâs not even his technique). he canât help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. âsatoru!â
he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams âare you fucking kidding me?ââor really, just a look of utter disappointment. âyouâre turning the stove the wrong way.â
â...â
he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.
âoh, yeah⊠um, i definitely knew that.â
âsatoru, how do you survive whenever youâre not on a mission?â
âsometimes i think about that too, really. i think itâs because y/n is the one who always cooks.â
âyou think i canât tell already?â
-
much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.
he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinetâalong with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. âwait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?â
and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, âthe strongestâ, thinks heâs the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.
âitâs an impressive feat, really.â he claims.
suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.
-
an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. youâre sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesnât have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. âtoru? sâthat you?â
âitâs me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.â when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as youâre just now realizing how hungry you are.
âthis is good,â you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. âdidnât know you could make this.â
âyeah, well, you better savor it.â cause iâm never making that again.
when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.
just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldnât.
satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.
you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. âthank you, for umâfor all of this.â
âs nothing. just promise that you wonât overwork yourself again, okay?â he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.
âiâll try not to.â
âhey, you canât say just that. you have to say, âi promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.ââ he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you canât help but laugh.
âokay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.â you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and heâs so glad that the lights are off so that youâre unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. âthank you for taking care of me⊠and for the soup. it was good.â
and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts arenât in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, heâd take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that youâre feeling like this.
and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he canât help but whisper, âyeah. next time, iâll make you more than just soup. iâll cook something special, just for you. ând i wonât burn the pot again, either.â
because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup⊠and more.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo fluff#gojo satoru comfort#gojo comfort
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God, thank you for rec'ing this fic, it is SOOOO good.
I am so sad that I am now basically caught up with it; pretty much.
I want more so badly.
But I can wait.
(also, I want Leo to get/keep some cool water/mystic water guardian powers somehow after all he goes through in this fic; he deserves some kind of award for everything he went through in the show and movie and now this. The poor blue baby goes through so much in this fic. I love it. I hate it, because the poor baby, but I love it, because I love seeing my favorites both suffer and tortured) and also gets lots of love and comfort. His bros go through so much too. They are also so great and great to each other in this fic).
Anyways, I love this fic so much, and it is such a Rise take on H20 (loved those show(s) btw), and also, horrifying (or how you described it as, psychological horror) and creepy and mind-trippy and stuff/etc. too!
Just a really awesome premise and story and characterization and etc.!
Anyways, just such an awesome fic. I am pretty obesessed with it now. I rec. it too so much to other people.
Esp. if u are looking for some Leo-centric stuff and/or are a Leo fan! It is great for that. Though, it is just great in general too.
Thanks OP once again for rec'ing this great fic, and a great Leo-centric fic too. I am always looking for more good Leo stuff/Leo takes/Leo-centric stuff/etc.
Now for more of this amazing fic.
Also, if you find any more great fics/comics/whatever/etc., esp. good Leo/Leo-centric/has good Leo characterizations or portrayals or takes and so on/etc. ones then I wouldn't mind u making another post or reblog or whatever like this post! Or something like that or something.
Like I said; I am always ready to have more of those kinds of things to read/watch/listen to/etc.
P.S.: I also find that love line from Ch15. Esp. in context. Though, with the context, I am also freaking out too (during that part/scene(s)).
Before I go to bed.... Another ROTTMNT Leo-centric fanfic rec
Ongoing fanfic, 15/? as of 04/26/23
Gen, no romance
Synopsis: Leo goes swimming and "something" follows him back home in return. Kind-of mind-control/possession ensues and mostly not fun.
Sickfic except the "sick" is kinda like the whole "parasite from the water" psychological horror situation, except that parasite is also maybe um magic. Like. H2O: Just Add Water except significantly more stressful.
Please note the psychological horror aspect and the additional tags
The fluff is good when it's there, but so is the angstđ€đ€
Anyways, I love this line from chapter 15:
Because despite how much this scene sent my heart racing, amazing dialogue as always đ€đ€đ€
#s0fti3w1tch#tmnt#rottmnt#tmnt leo#rottmnt leo#there must be something in the water#there must be something in the water fic#rottmnt there must be something in the water#rottmnt there must be something in the water fic#filsamek#tagging them as the creator of the fic being rec'ing#like the OP post says; please mind the psychological horror and the other tags#some spoilers for the fic that is being rec'ing:#so--funny story while i was reading this fic; when i got to the point where leo went to take a shower sometime after going to the#mystic/magic moon pool. ofc; the shower didn't happen right after he came back but it was like his shower after coming back from it.#and me knowing something was wrong with leo by that point due#to in-fic reasons. as well as fic and chapter summary and tags reasons.#but mainly; in this case my knowledge of h20. i thought when donnie and mikey busted their way into the bathroom after leo#was not reacting or anything when mikey was trying to get into the bathroom; which donnie showed up later and saw this and also#tried to get leo to open the door. and when he couldn't either#and then they saw a bunch of water (I think; don't quote me on this)#leaking out from under the door. they decided to bust in. and because of me watching h20 i really thought they were going to find leo#with a merman tail (which i also wasn't expecting to happen so soon. though; in this case they did find leo in this state pretty quickly#but like. everyone; including leo was still very confused by it and things got slowly unraveled about what was going on with leo.#which was very cool) and was really freaking out about it and reading that section slowly because i was freaking out.#leo didn't end up having a tail though so just lol at my freaking out there. tbf though; i went from relief that donnie and mikey#didn't just find leo with a fricken tail to freaking out about leo's general weird state (if you read the fic; you know what i am talking#about when i say weird state or weird states is prob. more accurate). so in the end i was still freaking out. just the reason why changed#wow. these tags got more/longer than i meant. but that seems to happen often to me. lol.#rottmnt fic rec
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stress relief
words: 1.1k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving handjob and oral, semi dub con (mainly power dynamics), bimbo!reader, ceo!rafe
âhey y/n.â rafes secretary says as you quickly make your way past her desk with a quick wave and into your bosses office, knowing you're a few minutes late.
âhi, bossman.â you smile wide as you enter, placing his iced coffee down on the coaster that stays sat out and ready.
ây/n, thank god you're here.â rafe groans, pushing himself away from his laptop, needing a break from staring at the screen.
âim only like five minutes late.â you pout, already feeling tears well up in your eyes. âit's just because your coffee was taking a long time and-â
âno, i don't care about that.â rafe shakes his head quickly. the second he saw you in the lobby, among the line of girls waiting to interview for his assistant position, he knew you'd be chosen.
tight pink shirt showing off your cleavage and a skirt that was clearly bought just for the interview, twice the length of what rafe guessed was your average skirt length, and quickly figured out he was right when you reverted back to your mini skirts.
âoh, okay.â all the negative emotions you were feeling are gone as you shrug.
âbut i do need you for something. come here.â rafe beckons you over and you move quickly to the other side of the desk.
âwhat is it ya need?â you ask, quirking your head to the side.
âneed some stress relief.â rafe grunts, adjusting the front of his pants from where he's painfully pressing against the zipper.
âokay, like a massage?â you question. you're not sure what the normal functions of an assistant to a ceo entails, but for how much you're getting paid, you're willing to do pretty much anything.
âyes, a massage.â rafe nods enthusiastically. âexactly. and i have one place that really needs to be massaged.â
âmmkay.â you nod, figuring it's his shoulders or something, when rafe tugs at his zipper and pulls his painfully hard cock out.
âoh my god!â you squeal, covering your face quickly, palms smacking against your cheeks.
âno, no.â rafe says calmly. âthis is just part of the job, okay?â
âi⊠are you sure?âÂ
âyes. now come give me a massage so i can get back to work.â
âokayâŠâ you take a better look at his dick, hard and long with a decent size to it that makes you imagine something you definitely shouldn't about your boss. you shake the thoughts out of your head and grab your desk chair from the corner of the room and drag it towards rafe.
you sit down next to him, glancing again between his eyes and his exposed privates. rafe gives you an encouraging nod, and there's no way your boss would lie to you, right?Â
your hand reaches out to grasp rafes cock, swallowing thickly to ignore the urge to wrap your lips around it as you begin to stroke him.
âis that good?â you question.
âyeah, real good, just keep going.â rafe relaxes into his chair, plush and comfortable for the long hours he spends in the office, always arriving before you and leaving long after you've called it quits for the day.
you reach your other hand forward as well, working his length with both hands. you tug your lower lip between your teeth, focusing on his pleasure as you jack him off.
rafe keeps mostly quiet, just a slight increase in the noise of his exhales, but not quite yet a sigh. you leave one hand moving up and down his length and bring the other to the head of his cock, moving in teasing swirls before swiping the pad of your thumb right over his tip.
âoh, that's good.â rafe mutters, his eyes blinking hard to stay open, wanting to remember exactly what it's like to have you leaning forward, breasts almost spilling out as your hands work on his cock.
âanything for you boss.â you smile. you do love working for rafe. being his assistant is mostly just running errands for him, but even that doesn't take up enough of your time, so you end up online shopping and picking at your nails until 5pm hits.
âyou are really good at massages.â rafe smirks, and you don't catch his implication. that you're experienced and not in literal massages.
âthanks.â you feel your cheeks blush, face heating. it's hard to get a compliment out of rafe. the nicest thing you think he's ever done is when you caught him staring at your ass as you walked away.
âkeep doing that.â rafe says when you cup your hand over the head of his cock, rubbing your palm against his leaky tip.
âmmkay.â you hum again, your usual response to any of rafes demands. your other hand keeps stroking over his length, squeezing just tight enough to have rafes lower jaw dropping in pleasure.
you both jump when the phone begins to ring. rafe reaches over to quickly end the call when he sees who it is.
âstop, it's tokyo.â rafe whispers as your hands continue to move. even though you keep yourself out of the business side, you know how big of a deal the companies japanese partners are.
âanswer it!â you squeal, but your hands continue to move.
rafe know he can't keep them waiting so he quickly accepts the call, trying to fix his voice while you stare at him, still stroking almost absentmindedly up and down his cock.
rafe answers the question the representative on the other end has as you drop one hand down to fondle his balls, squeezing your hand into the opening in his pants to touch them.
rafe pulls the phone receiver away from his mouth as he lets out a quiet curse, eyes pleading for you to stop, but you can't make yourself, and rafe certainly won't push your hands away when he's longed to have them on him for so long.
rafes voice is shaky as he answers questions, his cock pulsing in your hand, tip turning pink as you realize what is about to happen.
you look around for something to catch his cum as his cock pulses in your hand but you come up with nothing, so you drop your head and wrap your mouth around the head of his cock just as he begins to cum, sucking gently to empty him as you obediently swallow.
your hands fall away as you look up at rafe, lips locked around his cock. you give one final suck that has him gasping before covering it up with a cough before you pull off with a pop.
you don't even need to be asked as you tuck rafe back into his pants as he finishes up his call, tossing the phone down the second he says sayonara.
âshit.â rafe groans.
âis your stress relieved now?â you ask, somehow still looking the perfect mix of innocent and sluty even though your lipgloss is smeared from rafes cock.
âyeah.â rafe nods. âand next time i want a massage with your mouth.â
#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron drabble#ceo!rafe#ceo!rafe cameron
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pt.2 to my angsty loser!ellie drabble đđ
nsfw! ellie gets caught and thatâs literally it. i hate this so bad but itâs whateva
(part 3 will have lesbian gay lesbian boob vagina butt sex i promise. no more ellie masturbating)
find pt.1 here! & pt.3 here :3
daily click! donât buy tlou free palestine
after ellieâs pathetic masturbation sesh, she vowed to herself to fucking pull it together.
she wasnât gonna let herself mope over you, because she knew you had an active sex life. she forced herself to be fine with it. to be fine with the people you decided to bring to your bed. she wanted to be near you without feeling this suffocating feeling of yearning and lust filling her insides.
and if that meant tucking her feelings to the deepest pits of hell, then so fucking be it.
a few weeks had passed since that little moment you and ellie had. the one where she had showed up to your house in the middle of you hooking up with someone.
the morning after, she has awoken to a string of texts from you, all apologizing for that awkward moment.
11:34pm
ellie iâm so sorry you had to see me like that. i didnât mean to come off rude.
i wanted to go after you but i couldnât really leave her alone in my house lol
els?
iâm really sorry. i hope u donât think you canât come to my house ever again âčïž i actually thought it was sweet you showed up like that.
2:12am
goodnight ellie. i hope things arenât awkward between us.
god, you made her feel awful. you were too fucking sweet to her. the way you never missed a single night when telling her goodnight, even after something like that. she rubbed her swollen face, mainly from crying, and typed a short message to you.
9:47am
hey, sorry for rushing away like that. idk why i did that lmfao
and things arenât awkward at all, i shouldnât have just showed up unnanounced
no els seriously! you should do that more often. tbh i wanted to hang out with you more than that girl⊠but yk i couldnât đđ
she smiled at your kind text, glad that you two could just put it behind yourselves. her moment of relief was quickly replaced by disgust, when she saw the state of herself and her bed. her inner thighs sticky with dried cum, and her sheets below her still damp with all the extra release.
âgross..â she mumbled to herself, getting up and immediately throwing on some boxers and a tshirt, feeling way too vulnerable being naked like that. she went to the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then threw her sheets in the wash.
since then, you two have been fine. you do your weekly hangout sessions, where you grab food and talk about anything for hours on end. itâs almost as if nothing happened.
until one of your sleepovers.
you always convinced ellie to spend the night at your house, at least every other week. whenever itâd get dark outside and ellie would start to get up, youâd give her that irresistible pout and âughhh, câmon els.. just spend the night. itâs too dark out for you to go home.â
and every damn time, she agreed. how could she ever say no to you?
one night, you and ellie are high out of your minds, talking about god knows what. all giggly and soft, you two exchange jokes and stories that really make no sense. but, to you two, itâs the funniest thing in the world. after a laughing fit between the two of you, you wipe your tears and sigh.
âgod, i love you.â
you say, still catching your breath from that tummy tensing laugh. the words were just an expression of admiration for her. but to ellie, they were so much more.
âi love you too.â
she says, looking you in the eyes. sheâs high, so sheâs not thinking too hard about how sincere she sounds. but she really shouldâve, because that soft tone of her voice and the glint in her eyes make it sound way too fucking real.
âwoah,â you let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. âthat was a bit theatrical.â
âwh..what do you mean?â
ellie asks, getting a bit nervous. sheâs not her usual, stuttery self though. she keeps it together. thanks to the weed.
âjust the way you said i love you. it felt like⊠deep.â
you move your hands as you talk, and ellie just shrugs. but she knows sheâs fucked. before she could stop her feelings from resurfacing, she gets that familiar tingle in her belly and pounding of her heart.
âshut up,â she rolls her eyes, trying to play it off.âyouâre dramatic.â
her voice wavered with those last words. fuck, her voice wavered. why did she feel like she was gonna have a breakdown any second now? she had to get the hell away from you.
âgotta piss. be back in a bit.â
ellie says quickly, so quick you donât even have time to retort to her calling you dramatic. you just sit there, confused. you couldâve sworn you heard some uncertainty in her voice, but you let her go.
meanwhile, ellie made a beeline for your bathroom. she shut the door and leaned her head against the wood. she let out a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. the fact that she felt the most intense feeling that she couldnât even describe over a mere âi love youâ had her cringing.
she just couldnât get over you. the entire night, she tried her best not to think about how good your tits looked in your pajama top, or how badly she wanted to just shove her face into your ass in those little shorts.
her thinking over these details led to the predicament that sheâs in right now. sweatpants around her knees, legs slightly spread as she rubs one out while leaned up against your bathroom sink. her eyes are shut and her head is thrown back, letting out the quietist grunts she could muster.
she knew she shouldnât be doing this, she promised herself that she would stop. but god, you made it hard. she was so wet, it made her cheeks flush red. the simple thought of you had her literally dripping around her own fingers.
you were still in your room, biting your thumbnail as you wait for ellie. you start to get worried, thinking you made her upset by commenting on how she said âi love youâ. so, you being the thoughtful friend you are, go to check on her.
you quietly walk to the bathroom, putting your ear against the door. you were going to knock and mutter a little âels? are you okay?â, but the sounds you heard made you lose all the words in your mouth.
soft, sharp inhales and tiny sticky noises is all you can hear through the door. itâs a bit hard to listen to, since the soft buzz of the yellow light in there overpowers it. what the hell is she doing in there?
you knew this was wrong. an invasion of privacy to the max. but your curiosity was getting the better of you, and you were worried. you put your hand on the doorknob and slightly twisted it, not expecting it to open. but it did.
did ellie forget to lock the door?
ellie doesnât hear the soft click of the door opening, too lost in her own pleasure as she practically humps her own hand. it had been too fucking long since she could touch herself to the thought of you. her only guilty pleasure.
her head was still thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as she rubbed her clit at a shockingly fast pace. and you saw it all. you had opening the door just enough for half of your face to see through the opened crack. your whole body froze at the sight in front of you.
she was so captivating. her face looking all fucked out, her pale thighs that were so tensed up, the shininess of her slick that smeared on the heel of her palm. even the quick glimpses of her gorgeous auburn bush that you could see if her hoodie rode up enough.
your tummy felt weird. first, you felt guilty for eavesdropping on your best friend. second, you were confused why the fuck ellie decided now would be the best time to masturbate. third, you were turned on. disgustingly turned on, at that.
a few seconds of watching ellie made your panties get all sticky and wet, and that burning hot feeling in your lower belly. you couldnât look away.
âohh, fuckâ please,â
your brain short circuited hearing ellie say that. god, she was so lost in her own pleasure. so lost that she accidentally knocked over your toothbrush and hand soap on the sink, causing her to jolt and snap her eyes open.
she looks down at the bottle of soap and toothbrush that landed in front of the bathroom door. the door thatâs cracked. her eyes shoot up, and thereâs where she sees a glimpse of you running away. a quick flash, but she knew it was you.
she is so fucked.
I HATE RHISNSO BAD RRRRđĄ
btw i finished this literally like 3 days ago and didnât wanna post it hut i did anyway âșïžâșïž
#dollyâs stuff đđ#ellie williams#tlou2#abby the last of us#abby tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#lesbian#tlou part 2#abby smut#abby anderson smut#the last of us#i donât like this#rushed lol
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Sylus x Reader - His Only Priority
Part two of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel! I'll be posting the other stories over the next few days, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of them!
Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!
Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! đ
Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.
I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!
L&DS Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Join My Taglist
Warnings: Mentions of injury, being unconscious, hospitals, hospital machines
Sylus was meant to be focusing on doing a little prep work for a business meeting he had in a few days.Â
But instead of focusing on that; his mind was fully focused on you.
He couldnât shake this feeling that something had happened to you; mainly because by now you wouldâve sent him at least five messages trying to figure out where you were going tonight.Â
But instead, he hadnât heard from you at all.Â
Not even when he called you.Â
You always answered when he called you.Â
âSheâs just busy with work,â he told himself, knowing that he was probably just jumping to the worst scenario.Â
But as the minutes passed by, he just felt in his gut that something was wrong.Â
âMephisto-â he said, catching the bird's attention.
He was going to ask Mephisto if he could find you; but before he could even open his mouth to say the words, his phone lit up with your name.Â
âHey,â he heard you say; just hearing the sound of your voice was enough to ease his worries as he leaned back in his chair.Â
âYou had me worried sweetie-â
His words trailed off, along with his relief, when he heard the beeping sound of a hospital machine through the phone.Â
âIâm going to have to reschedule tonight,â he could hear the words you were saying, but he wasnât focused on them, he was more focused on the other sounds that were happening around you.
âWhatâs happened?â He asked, his voice calm despite the wildfire of worry that was swirling around inside him.Â
âIâm okay,â you assured him; but your words brought him little reassurance.Â
He knew you too well.
Knew that you would never tell him if you were hurt because you wouldnât want him to worry.Â
But it was too late for that.Â
He was already worried.
And he didnât care if he got caught when he was in Linkon, as long as he got to see you and make sure you were okay.
~~~~~~
You knew he was going to worry; and that as soon as you told him that you were at the hospital he was going to come here (unaware that he already knew this information).
Itâs not that you didnât want to see him.Â
You did.Â
More so than anyone.Â
You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his safe and comforting embrace.
But his safety was more important to you than your injury, besides you werenât even seriously hurt.Â
Your injury was no different to anything youâd had before; you werenât dying and you had no severe wounds, all you had was a bruise that you could already feel forming on the back of your head.Â
The only reason they were keeping you in was because you got hit in the head by a wanderer and passed out not long after.Â
Thankfully, you were able to put the wanderer down before you descended into unconsciousness and luckily your partner found you before any other wanderers could and brought you straight here.Â
They were keeping you in for observation, to make sure you didnât have a serious concussion.Â
That was all.Â
You were fine.Â
You were annoyed more so than anything that you had to stay in the hospital rather than spend one of the last nights you had with Sylus before he went away on a business trip.Â
âYouâre at the hospital,â
It wasnât a question.Â
He knew exactly where you were.Â
You didnât exactly know how; but you werenât surprised that he knew.
You knew he was going to find out sooner or later, mainly because Sylus always knew when you were lying.Â
âSylus, donât worry-â
âIâm on my way there now,â
âNo, Sylus, Iâm okay-â
The call disconnected before you had time to finish your protest.Â
You went to call him back to try and persuade him to not come to the hospital, but you knew your attempts would be in vain.Â
Sylus was coming here, there was no stopping him, you knew that.Â
~~~~~
You knew Sylus was risking a lot by coming to the hospital, but as much as you hated it, you couldnât help but just the thought of seeing him was enough to not only make you smile, but to make the butterflies in your stomach go into a frenzy.Â
Every time the door to your room opened, you were expecting to see him walking through and it was hard to hide your disappointment when it was just the nurses coming to check in on you.Â
As the time began to pass, your anxiety grew.Â
What if heâd gotten caught somehow on the way hereâŠ?
The thought kept eating away at your mind, to the point that you were fully ready to check yourself out of the hospital to go and find him.
But before you could even get out of bed, you heard the creaking door open once again.
And this time, it wasnât a nurse that was entering your room, it was Sylus.Â
Relief washed over you as you attempted to move out of the bed youâd been lying in for hours, but before you could you felt Sylusâ hands on your shoulders, pushing you lightly back down on the bed.
âIâm okay,â you assured him once again, hoping that that would ease the panic that was so clearly evident in his ruby eyes.
He didnât say anything for a short while, his eyes scanning over your body, checking for any obvious injuries.
âWhy are they keeping you in?â He finally spoke, his eyes meeting yours.
âJust for observation,â you answered; trying to articulate the words of your answer carefully so that he didnât worry more.Â
âBecause?â
You didn't want to tell him what had happened; but you knew that heâd just check your medical record at the bottom of your bed if you didnât tell him.Â
âI got hit on the head by a wanderer and passed out not long after,â
âAnd why was your partner not covering you?â He questioned the accusation of who was blaming for your injury, clear in his words.Â
âThey were busy dealing with a wanderer themselves,â you explained softly.Â
You knew he meant well; he just wanted you safe.Â
But your words were the truth.Â
And this situation was no oneâs fault.Â
It was just an unfortunate incident; and fortunately their partner brought them to the hospital before anything more serious occurred.
Of course the reason to have a partner was to watch your back and to prevent instances like this from occurring; and it worked for the most part.Â
But it would be impossible to do such a thing all the time.Â
âThis isnât anyoneâs fault,â you added on; placing your hand over his, watching as his eyes softened slightly at your touch, âIâm okay,â
He knew you were.Â
He just couldnât shake the thought of what couldâve happenedâŠif youâd experienced a more serious injury.Â
âIâm sorry I ruined our plans tonight,â you apologised; rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand.
âItâs okay,â he replied back softly, turning his hand over so that your palms were against one anotherâs, before lifting your hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles.Â
âBesides, weâll get to spend quite a bit of time together over the next few days.â
His words caught you completely off guard, and the confusion in your voice was as clear as you said the words, âWhat?âÂ
âYou canât be on your own if you have a potential concussion, what if you pass out again?â He pointed out as though his answer was the most obvious thing in the world.
But it still left you confused; of course you werenât going to complain about staying with him or him staying with you.Â
But he had a business trip planned; and you knew that any business trip Sylus had to go on was an important one.Â
âBut what about youâre business meeting-âÂ
âItâs nothing I canât reschedule,â Sylus answered, interrupting your objection before leaning in closer towards you and pressing a delicate kiss on your cheek, âBesides, looking after you is much more important than any business meeting ever could be, sweetie.â
You couldn't help how the heat rose to your cheeks as his words flowed through your mind; but how could you not feel giddy from what he'd said?Â
Sylus spending the next few days looking after you?
It sounded perfect.Â
Taglist:
@xacatalepsyx @stiltdeer-snootnoodle @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @chubby-bun-bun @whimsiecat
#sylus x reader#sylus imagines#sylus imagine#sylus x you#sylus fluff#love and deepspace#love and deeepspace sylus#sylus love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#l&ds x reader#sylus#lads x reader#lads sylus#sylus lads
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what if?
unrequited love, best friend!lando blurb request from @foreveralbon! liyah gave me the choice of which side the unrequited love came from and unfortunately, i chose to break landoâs heart. please forgive me. i tried to find a pic where he looked a little sad but i don't want him sad so i strayed completely from the vibe of this blurb. also yes, if anyone was wondering, i named the male oc aaron because of aaron hotchner. can't tell if i love or hate this so go easy on me lol pairing: fem!reader x best friend!lando (platonic), fem!reader x oc male word count: 2.1k summary: itâs finally time for your friends to meet someone special. youâre in love with him, and lando has to come to terms with that. tw: unrequited love, heartbroken lando
Your phone buzzed from across the room, a familiar ringtone echoing through the air letting you know that Lando was finally returning your call.
âI sincerely hope you havenât been avoiding me because youâre planning on ditching my dinner party tonight,â you scolded as soon as you picked up the phone.
âI would never,â Lando gasped. âI was on the sim and had my phone on silent â do you need me to bring anything? How many people will be there?â'
âOh, not too many at all, Iâve got everything I need. I asked Max, Pietra, Carlos, Rebecca, Charles, and Alex. Oh, and Maxie is coming and bringing someone, can you believe it? Iâm so glad heâs finally moving on from Kelly. Oscar and Lily canât make it â heâs got a family thing, but he promised a double lunch âdateâ when theyâre back in Monaco next week.â
âGeez, why are all of our friends in loving relationships or dating except us, huh? Look at us, the old spinsters!â
You didnât miss the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it with a joke, which made your next admission even harder than you thought it would be.
âActually, I have someone I want you to meet,â you said quietly. Â âHis name is Aaron and heâll be here tonight.â
âReally?â Lando coughed, hoping to mask the sound of himself choking on air. âIt must be pretty serious for you if heâs meeting all of us â how, um, how long? Have you been seeing him?â
You knew heâd ask and you didnât want to answer, afraid that he would be upset youâve kept this from him for so long. Youâve always shared everything with him for the past five years, but for a few subjectively good reasons, youâd kept this a secret until now.
âPlease donât be mad,â you mumbled. âIâve been seeing him for about seven months but I wasnât hiding it on purpose or anything, I swear, I just didnât want to ask you to prioritize meeting my boyfriend during the season. It was too soon to introduce you over summer break, now was just the best time.â
You heard Lando exhale on the other end of the line â whether it was a sigh of annoyance, relief, or anger, you couldnât tell.
âI get it, donât worry,â he forced out. âI know Iâm never around. Iâm excited to meet him, Iâll see you in a bit, yeah?â
Before you could say anything else, Lando ended the call.
Lando hadnât taken his eyes off of you the entire evening â introductions had gone perfectly, all of your friends seemed to love Aaron, conversation was flowing smoothly, but it was painfully obvious, at least to you, that something was up with Lando.
Youâd barely gotten through dessert when the onslaught of relationship questions started coming your way â mainly from Charles, if you can believe it. Aaron had started on cleaning up the kitchen and Charles didnât hesitate to bombard you as soon as Aaron had left the room.
âSo, how did you guys meet? How did he ask you out? Tell me everything.â
âCharles!â Alex scolded. âDonât interrogate her, sheâll tell us if sheâs ready!â
You smiled in thanks at Alex, although you knew she was just as eager to hear you tell the tale.
âActually, I have Lando to thank,â you smiled at Lando, turning your attention towards him for a brief moment. âThe day we met, I was supposed to be having lunch with him but he got caught up in a meeting and was running way late. Aaron saw me sitting alone and thought Iâd been stood up, introduced himself, and then gave me this cheesy line about how someone was missing out on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.â
Rebecca sighed and fixed her gaze on Carlos â âwhy arenât you that romantic?â
âIâm perfectly romantic,â Carlos countered. âRemember when I â â
Pietra interrupted and shushed him abruptly, âY/N isnât done talking, you can defend yourself later.â
âAnyway,â you laughed, âI told him that I was waiting for my best friend and he offered to buy me a drink while I waited, but Lando had texted about five minutes before that he was on his way. So, I turned him down, but he left a note with the hostess and asked her to give it to me when I was on my way out. It was just the next dayâs date, a time, and the name of a wine bar nearby signed with his name. I showed up and the rest is history, he charmed me.â
âI didnât know it was Lando you were waiting on,â Aaron chimed in, walking into the dining room. He stopped next to Landoâs chair, holding his hand out for a handshake. âAs a lifelong McLaren fan, I never thought Iâd be thanking Lando Norris for arriving late, but thank you. You changed my life that day.â Â
Lando slowly shook his hand and with gritted teeth responded, âYeah, man, no problem. Glad I could help, seriously.â
From the looks on everyoneâs faces, it was now clear to you that you werenât the only one who noticed something was wrong with Lando.
Heâd barely said a word all evening, and from the tone of his voice, it definitely was a problem and he was not glad he could help.
âItâs a little stuffy in here, Iâm going to get some air,â you announced, rising quickly from your chair. âLando, come with me? Aaron, Iâll finish up in the kitchen later, why donât the rest of you get comfortable in the living room?â
Begrudgingly, Lando followed you out to your patio. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-December and the sudden gust of wind that pulled a shiver from you wasnât helping at all. You had barely stopped shivering when you felt Landoâs jacket drape across you, his hands smoothing the shoulders down before he took his place next to you against the balcony.
âThere he is,â you crooned. âMy kind and considerate best friend.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
You turned your head to face him rather than look at the view, your eyebrows furrowing together and a sick feeling creeping into your stomach.
âDo you not like Aaron?â You asked quietly, the frown on your face deepening. âEveryone else seems to love him, did he say something to you? You were a littleâŠoff just now, are you mad heâs a McLaren fan? I promise you, he is not dating me to get to you or any other crazy idea you may have concocted. He didnât even know we were friends for the first three months.â
Lando didnât answer you, his eyes still trained on the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. He was picking at his fingernails â something he only did when he was anxious or upset.
âPlease say something,â you pleaded. âI, gosh I canât believe Iâm saying this, but I'm in love with him, Lando. If you have reservations or concerns, please be honest with me. Your opinion means a lot to me, more than I thought it would.â
The silence was deafening â still no response for what felt like ages, the sick feeling in your stomach growing more prominent with every passing second.
âYou love him?â Lando finally spoke, looking down, out, away â anywhere but at your face.
âYes, I do. Like, a scary amount. Iâm terrified, actually, but in the best way. I never thought Iâd find love like this, Lan.â
âWell, thatâs a problem, isnât it?â Lando laughed, a humorless laugh, and backed away from the railing to sit on one of your deck chairs â his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Before you could voice your confusion, he looked up at you, a sadness in his eyes youâd never seen before.
âHeâs annoyingly wonderful and perfect for you, Y/N,â he began. âAs soon as I walked in tonight, I knew. He barely let you lift a finger, remembered facts about everyone in there and was sincerely happy to get to know everyone. He gravitates towards you, smiles whenever you speak, always wants to be near you, and holds you like youâre the most precious thing in the world to him. He treats you how I would treat you if I were lucky enough to be in his shoes. And the way he looks at you? I know that look,â he paused, closing his eyes tightly. âItâs the way I look at you.â
The sick feeling in your stomach turned to dread and you felt your heart squeezing in your chest, a mix of a gasp and a sob climbing out of your throat.
âLando, I â â
âItâs ok,â he smiled, staring directly at you with watery eyes. âI love you. I know itâs one-sided, and thatâs ok. I promise you, itâs okay. I just needed you to know, and not because I thought it would change your feelings for him or to confuse you, you just deserve to know. Iâve kept it from you for far too long and I wish this wasn't how or why I finally told you.â
Tears spilled from your eyes, your hand shaking as you reached for Landoâs, gripping it so tight you thought you might leave a bruise.
âIâm sorry, Lando,â you cried. âIâm so sorry, I didnât know, I â I never would have made you come or said those things if I had known.â
Guilt crawled its way into the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Some of your friends and family members had alluded to his feelings for you over the years, but you always ignored them, insisting that you were just friends, best friends, but you secretly sometimes felt that there may be some truth in it. You wished more than anything in that moment that you had taken that feeling more seriously.
âI didnât want you to know, itâs my fault you didnât know,â Lando insisted. âYou have nothing to apologize for.â
âIf you need some time, some distance, I can respect that,â you offered, though the thought of Lando agreeing to that was unbearably painful.
âNo, no, Iâll be ok. Itâll take some time for me to move on but Iâd rather deal with the pain of being close to you while I get over you than not have you in my life for however long it takes. All that matters to me is that youâre happy, and if Aaron makes you happy, I can live with that.â
Selfishly, you sighed in relief, squeezing the hand you were holding before pulling away from him. Your friendship would feel different for a while, but you could manage different; you could manage anything as long as Lando remained a fixture in your life.
âI think Iâm going to go,â he whispered, rising from the chair and sliding his hands into his pockets. âIâve made things awkward enough for one evening, donât you think?â
You started to assure him he did no such thing, but when you saw the smirk on his face you knew heâd said it to try to relieve the heaviness that had settled over you. You handed him back his jacket, smoothing the shoulders down once heâd put it on just as he did for you earlier. Small, tentative smiles graced both of your faces before you pulled him into a gentle hug, hesitating just enough to allow him to back away if it was too much for him.
He squeezed you once tightly and then let go â the quickness of it expected, but the fact he accepted it at all gave you hope that everything would be ok.
You watched him as he reached for the door handle to go inside, but he paused and turned around just before he grabbed hold.
âWould it have made a difference? If I had told you before you met him?â
You werenât sure which answer would hurt him more, but you were always honest with him and that wasnât going to change now.
âNo, Lando, it wouldn't have. I do love you, I always have and always will, but I'm not in love with you. I've never thought of you in that way, I'm sorry.â
He nodded once, accepting your answer, and then he was gone. You were being truthful, and Lando knew without a doubt that you were, but he also knew in his heart and soul that you would always and forever be his biggest âwhat if?â.
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taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun
if you would like to be tagged in any of my fics please refer to this post or send a message to my inbox!
#lando norris x reader#lando norris angst#lando norris#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula one#formula 1 fanfic#ln4#forzalando 3k
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Genshin men meeting you, their idol, for the first time. | Lyney, Kinich, Childe x Gn!Reader
The idea came to me randomly, so enjoy! (I've been freed from my writers block wooo-)
Content: Reader is a famous person, Childe going a little feral, vague mentions of flirting, Ajaw being Ajaw, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
ăLYNEY
You were a famous magician who did shows all over Teyvat. Everyone knew of you and your incredible talent, making you an international star to all. No matter where you went, diehard fans would always come to see your breathtaking magic tricks with wide, sparkling eyes. You were able to bewitch the crowd with the most simplest moves, a graceful smile always on your beautiful face as you did so.
And when you finally came around to hold a show in the grand theaters of Fountaine, Lyney had the chance to meet you backstage in between your sets. Despite the fact that he should have seen you as competition considering his own passion in the profession, he couldn't help but watch you with that same awe-struck expression. It was a privilege to meet you, one he wouldn't pass up for anything.
His heart was beating against his chest wildly, yet he still pushed through with the greeting he had gone over and over again in his mind. He wanted to impress you after all. Taking your hand in his, he kissed the back of it, a sly and playful glint in his eyes. "It is an honor to meet you." He hums before pulling a rainbow rose from behind your ear skillfully and holding it out to you, secretly relishing in the giggle you gave him. Ignoring his sibling's deadpan from behind him, he held out his arm to you. "May I show you around? This is your first time in Fountaine... and I can assure you that I'm the best guide you'll find. Consider it a favor amongst like-minded magicians such as ourselves!"
His nervousness never shows, and his smile never falters. This was perhaps the best show he had to put on in his life... but when you gratefully accepted his invitation, he felt his worries melt away, glad he didn't come off as a desperate fan.
ăKINICH
He tried to stay indifferent when he was suddenly standing in front of one of the most legendary warriors Natlan had ever seen, which just happened to be you. He felt his hands become clamy, arms tightly crossed across his chest, whilst he watched you speak with Mualani about the latest news regarding their annual tournament. Attempting to simply stay out of your line of sight in fear of embarrassing himself, he leaned against the wall hidden in the shadows, content with being in your close proximity... until Ajaw caught onto what he was attempting to do.
"Ohoho... are you trying to crawl into a hole and disappear like the little worm you are?" He giggled evilly, floating around the deadpanning man, who was trying to ignore him like always. But Ajaw wasn't having it. If there was something he lived for, then it was the suffering of his dearest companion. "You know... I think you should go talk to them! Actually, let me help you out since I'm feeling oh-so nice today!" Kinich's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting to hiss out a warning, but the creature was too quick to stop, filled with determination to cause chaos.
Following after him with quick steps, Kinich was quick to banish him before he could reach you. This meant, however, that he was now standing in front of you and Mualani. Heat crawled up his neck and cheeks, as his friend happily introduced him to you, seemingly not having noticed the doom that had nearly hit you earlier. But his slightly panicked mind stilled when he saw you give him a kind smile. "Ah, I think I know you... or well, I've heard of you, at least." You said, and he felt himself take a shaky breath in relief and wonder.
Perhaps Ajaw had actually done something nice for once... which would definitely enrage him once he was released from his imprisonment.
ăCHILDE
Oh boy... you knew him way before you met him, that's for sure. Mainly because he was hellbent on fighting you at least once. He didn't care if he lost or won either. It was all the same to him, as long as you were the one to press the blade of your sword against his neck. And that alone made you often just outright avoid him, whenever you were in the motherland for business. You were a well-known assasin and agent for the first Harbinger, serving directly under him, which, of course, brought you great strength that Childe wanted to experience desperately. He needed to know if the rumors about your skills were true or not.
And unfortunately for you, he finally was able to get his deepest wish fulfilled when you accidentally dared to linger around the courtyard for way longer than you should have. "Please... fight me in a duel at least once!" He called out, knowing he has you cornered now. Despite him idolizing you greatly, you could tell his cocky pride and ego made him think he was an equal to you. Or perhaps that was just how things appeared to be. He was an unreadable force of energy that admittedly had caught your interest a while ago.
"Will you finally leave me be, if I do?" You asked after a moment of pondering silence, and the man just gave you a smirk, his dead eyes burning with determination you had never seen before. "Let's let our blades decide that." Chuckling at his response, you unsheathed your sword and faced him with a sigh.
This is not how people usually approach their idols... but you supposed that nothing was normal in the place you called home.
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin x y/n#genshin x you#genshin kinich x reader#genshin kinich#genshin lyney x reader#genshin lyney#genshin impact x reader#genshin childe#genshin childe x reader#genshin
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Sorry if this is spoiler-ish!! ;-; But can I request a scenario where the reader, whoâs married to Alastor, is having a nightmare where she loses Alastor? This can be after the battle where she almost witnessed Alastor get killed and it haunts her still. Of course with some comfort from the Radio Demon himself at the end :â3
Not spoilerish! Iâve watched the Adam V Alastor fight in full detail and I ABSOLUTELY LOVVEEE this idea! Youâre a legit genius, my dear! Thank you so much! Have a wonderful day! First we had big bro Al, then Dad Al, then BF Al, then best friend Al and now, we have best one: husband Al!
Alastor- Staying Here
Itâs been happening nonstop for days⊠days. Weeks. You canât sleep like this. Every night, the same nightmare but formatted differently like being tortured over and over again but with a different method. Itâs almost like that awful angel has re-manifested and is getting back revenge on Alastor by submitting you to night terrors that have been destroying your sleep schedule
Waking up with a nasty shrill of fear and a cold layer of sweat, your body flung upwards with your eyes shooting open after such a terrible dream, tears welling up in them⊠your beloved husband, Alastor, slept right next to you with his tall deer-like ears twitching. Knowing that heâs still here and not erased by the head exterminator, Adam is such a relief. Especially since that same Angel, Adam himself, is the reason youâve been having daily nightmares about a violent and gorey erasure scenario of Alastor with Adam. Adam laughing manically, killing off your husband in the most bloody and ruthless way, wounds all over his body, the radio effects dying outâŠ
Itâs awful. You can barely sleep and itâs making you deprived of just a single good night
Sobbing under your breath, right next to your seven year husband. Alastorâs ears twitch once more but this time, as a sign to wake up as well for his peacefully unconscious brain. Yawning and stretching out with a long drawn-out radio glitch in literally no time, his broad body sitting up with you leant over and sobbing into your hands. His crimson eyes looked over to you after a bit longer of waking himself up and just like that, he went from wondering what happened to immediately concerned
âDarling⊠whatâs wrong?â
Alastor asks soft and sweet, his radio voice overtone has completely disappeared so his own organic voice is the only thing remaining. He didnât even get a chance to speak again since you immediately clung onto him and buried your face into his chest, sobbing and crying for him to never leave you. Alastor doesnât know whatâs wrong but he wonât just let his beloved wife suffer
You legit have to sob and hiccup through your words, telling him about every detail of your repetitive nightmares and Alastorâs body tenses up in pure disgust and malice, mainly towards the idea of being erased by Adam, the now long dead head exterminator. He wouldnât let him put his hands on himself or you, he loves you way too much. Alastor rubs his hands through your hair, letting you cry into his chest until you finally get over it
You need to cry out your fear and feelings until you can be rational and logical to think. Get the emotions out first
Alastor silently waits for you to come back to him, gently pressing your body together with his, one hand on your back to trace through soft shapes and the other stroking gentle brushes through your hair until you can finally just melt in his embrace, calm down and feel safer with your still very alive husband. Yeah, he was quite close to being erased but he escaped and he has recovered from his injury
âMy dear, my love. How long has this been going on?â The guilt to lying and not telling Alastor sooner is already eating your heart apart. You just felt too shy to even drop him a hint about your midnight distress since you always assumed he is already too busy with the Hazbin Hotel to be able to prioritise your minor problems. Your nightmare issue isnât actually a minor problem at all, thatâs what you think but Alastor can see, clear as crystal, that this constant nightmare over him thing is breaking your psyche
âS-since it happenedâŠâ Alastorâs eyes widen in shock. Youâve been dealing with nightmares on the daily for two weeks?! How did he not even notice?! God, he is so pissed off at himself and just keeps rocking you, gently laying you down and cuddling you, continuing to massaging rubs of your big menacing hands. The wedding band over his left ring finger rubs on the silky thin fabric of your pyjamas and he can feel the wedding band on your own left ring finger clinging onto him like your hands clinging on his waist
Alastor continues to speak, not remaining silent since it may end up making you believe youâre mad at him for staying silent. He isnât as mad as his body may seem, he is just worried sick for your health and your mental health over these constant nightmares that are driving a wedge inbetween your sleep schedule. His lips drop down and kisses your forehead, keeping up the sweet, caring and loving tone
His husband tone
âDarling, dearest. I am not mad at you, just embrace me and recover. Iâll make those night terrors go awayâ Alastor continues to comfort you, soft, quiet and sweet. His soft peppery kisses all over your silky-skinned face, your rosy cheeks. Anything to make those streaming tears halt and your now red puffy demonic eyes. He loves you and he has been neglecting this very serious issue. Itâs now his job, as your loyal longtime husband, to take care of you
How grateful you are that Alastor is always right next to you and the nightmares you deal with will never be reality. Heâs safe, youâre safe and he is going to be holding your hand through your recovery process
âWould you like to go out and get some fresh air with me?â
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagines#hazbin hotel love#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel characters#vivziepop hazbin hotel#vivziepop#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#romantic alastor#romantic alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor x reader#alastor#radio demon x reader#hazbin radio demon#the radio demon#radio demon#romantic headcanons#romantic#hazbin hotel radio demon#married au#good husband#Alastor is good husband#I love Alastor as a hubby
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Okay, hear me out, Penelope convinces the team to go on a camping trip. Reader forgets her tent and has to share with Spencer, you can decide the rest. Do your thing đ
A/N: sorry I have been away for a while, I started a new job, Iâve applied for a PGCE and got three interviews to attend. But I hope this one(and the other fic I will be posting today) will make up for that. Also this isnât as detailed as my other smut fics, but I thought I would make this less BDSM themed :)
Summary: Basically what my lovely iluvreid has asked for, but reader loves camping, however, while on a team bonding camping trip, reader somehow forgets her tent. This forces her to share a tent with Spencer, which leads to them doing more than sleeping;).
Content: I believe no gender is mentioned, but there might be so fem!reader just incase. No mentions of sex, but it is very heavily implied. Heavy fluff. Implied smut. Mentions of the team possibly hearing them. Implied that Garcia stole readers tent.
Masterlist|requests are open|Navigation
You loved going camping, so when Garcia had been going around convincing people, mainly Spencer and JJ, to go on a team bonding camping trip, you jumped at the opportunity. The thought of spending time in the great outdoors with your colleagues excited you.Â
You had packed all your essentials, but you had forgotten one crucial item: your tent. As you stood there, staring at the empty space in your trunk where your tent should have been, panic began to set in. You frantically searched through your belongings, hoping against hope that you had somehow managed to overlook it. But the reality remained - your tent was nowhere to be found.
Desperation crept over you as you tried to come up with a solution. You glanced around, seeing the others already setting up their tents in the clearing. Garcia's rainbow-colored tent stood out amongst the sea of greens and blues, a visible symbol of camaraderie and teamwork. The thought of having to share a tent with someone crossed your mind, but the idea felt invasive and uncomfortable.
Just as you were about to resign yourself to a night spent sleeping under the stars, a voice interrupted your swirling thoughts.
âHey, are you okay?â Spencer asked, he seemed amused, you hadnât really kept it a secret how much you loved been outdoors, and how you spent a lot of your free time camping.Â
You turned to face Spencer, trying to mask your distress with a smile. "I, um, forgot my tent," you admitted sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.
Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, but then a mischievous glint appeared in them. "Looks like you'll have to bunk up with someone," he teased, raising an eyebrow suggestively.
You look around, trying to spot who you could bunk up with, but everyone seemed to have brought single person tents. Spencer seemed to be enjoying watching you struggle to find who you were going to ask. Â
âYou know, my tent is a two-person tent.â Spencerâs smile turned into a grin as he offered the solution. The realization hit you like a wave â Spencer was offering to share his tent with you. A mix of relief and excitement washed over you, grateful for his kindness yet nervous at the same time. You couldn't deny the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you considered spending the night under the same roof as Spencer.
"Are you sure?" you asked, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the thought of spending this impromptu sleepover with him.
Spencer nodded, his trademark soft smile making your heart skip a beat. "Of course! It's no trouble at all. We can set it up together," he offered, already moving to retrieve his tent from his own supplies.
âYou know, Iâve actually never shared a tent with anybody.â You couldn't help but notice the slight blush that dusted Spencer's cheeks as he made the confession.Â
As the night wore on, a chill settled in the air, prompting Spencer to offer you his jacket. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through you, both from the added layer and from the thoughtfulness behind it.
If you were being honest with yourself, you had always had a crush on Spencer. He was kind, caring and he always seemed slightly mysterious. As you looked over to Garcia and JJ they both seemed to be giggling, with Morgan trying to figure out what they were laughing about. You thought maybe they had something to do with your missing tent, but you didnât really care at this moment.
Under the blanket of twinkling stars, the crackling campfire casting dancing shadows around you, you and Spencer settled into the cosy confines of the two-person tent. The air was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of nature outside - a symphony of chirping crickets and rustling leaves.
In the quiet intimacy of the tent, you felt a surge of courage wash over you. Without overthinking it, you reached out to gently intertwine your fingers with Spencer's, a silent invitation for something more than just camaraderie and friendship.
Spencer's breath caught at the unexpected touch, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and undeniable affection. A tender smile graced his lips as he squeezed your hand. You knew he didnât like holding hands with people, but for whatever reason he didnât seem to mind it with you.Â
âYouâre beautiful, you know that right?â Spencer's whispered words hung in the air, soft and sincere. âAnd when I say beautiful, I donât just mean the way you smile, or how your eyes glisten in the sunlight. I mean everything about you is beautiful. Your mind, your presence, you.â Caught off guard by Spencer's heartfelt confession, you felt your heart skip a beat.
You were lost for words, you had so much to say back, but you just couldnât. You moved closer to Spencer, removing your hand from his. With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, you leaned in, your breath mingling with Spencer's as you closed the distance between you. The world outside the tent seemed to fade away as your lips met his in a soft, tentative kiss.
Spencer responded with a tenderness that took your breath away, his hand coming up to cup your cheek gently. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection you shared with Spencer. The barriers between friendship and something more crumbled away, leaving behind a raw and undeniable truth - you were in love with him.
You felt Spencerâs hands moving down your body. As you found yourself pulling away from the kiss, you couldnât believe what had just happened. However, Spencer didnât remove his hands, he continued till he found the hem of your shirt and slowly lifted it up. His eyes were scanning your body, drinking in every detail with a mixture of desire and reverence. Your heart was pounding in your chest.Â
As your shirt slid off, discarded in the dim light of the tent, Spencer's gaze met yours with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no hesitation in his eyes, only a longing and a hunger that mirrored your own.
As Spencer leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, a primal instinct took over, igniting a passion that had long smouldered between you.
The fabric of reality seemed to dissolve as you melted into each other, hands and lips exploring with a fervour that spoke of deep-seated longing. You had fantasied about this moment for a while. How he would feel, what he would be like. Spencerâs lips had touched almost every part of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Your skin hummed with electricity under his touch, each sensation magnified by the intensity of your connection. The world outside the tent ceased to exist as you and Spencer became entwined in a dance of desire and need.
Spencer did have to keep reminding you to be quiet, ânow you donât want Hotch and Emily to hear you, do you?â The thought of getting caught by their colleagues only heightened the thrill, and you stifled your giggles against Spencer's shoulder. His fingers tracing patterns on your back soothed you, and you felt yourself relax into the moment, surrendering to the ebb and flow of pleasure that pulsed between you.
As the night wore on, your bodies moved in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, a testament to the bond that had formed between you.
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paranormal love
James âBuckyâ Barnes x fem!reader
a/n: Bucky is going to be very OOC for the first half of this. Just trust the author on this one, it will all make sense in time. (Toxic relationships, paranormal happenings - you have been warned)
Summary: Moving into this house was supposed to be the blessing your marriage needed. Instead you only seem to be twisted against each other. Something lurks within these walls, something angry, something lonely. Someone wants you gone, and heâll do whatever it takes to have his revenge on the woman who left him behind. (Part of my Halloween Palooza)
âOkay,â you say, balancing the camera in your palm, zooming in on Jamesâ back while he unpacks the kitchen boxes. âWanna smile for the camera?â
He gives you a glance over his shoulder before turning and waving to the camera. He chuckles a little, glancing down at the lens and then back at you. âWhat are you doing?â
You sigh, placing the camera on the counter and letting it record. âWell, you know how the lady said this place was haunted?â
He rolls his eyes and glares at you. âI told you not to listen to her, that chick was off her meds.â You swat at his arm but he bounces away from you playfully.Â
âShut up,â you mutter, holding back a small laugh. âI just thought that if there were any supernatural happenings,â you nod towards the camera, âweâll need proof if weâre going to make this a tourist trap.â
James smiles, leaning over to press a brief kiss to your forehead. âGood call, babe.â You smile after him as he heads back out to the truck to bring in more boxes. Your eyes briefly dart to the camera before you shake your head with a disbelieving chuckle.Â
Do you believe in the supernatural? Yes. The metaphysical? Depends on whoâs trying to sell you their tarot cards. But you do know that when that woman handed you the keys after you bought the place, youâd never seen such stark relief.Â
That poor old woman was terrified of living in this house alone. Of course, the old bitch didnât tell you about all the horrific things that happened here until after you signed the deed. If you had known this place was haunted, even if itâs not, you never would have bought it.Â
Sadly, all your money and savings are now tied into this home. James says not to worry, that thereâs nothing wrong with the place. But heâs always been a cynic and heâs never really believed in anything so miraculous as ghosts. Besides, heâs the type of guy to argue with you until heâs purple in the face that the sky is red when heâs in a mood.Â
Thereâs no talking him out of this. And you canât begin your newlywed life arguing with your husband about the place you just made your forever home. Anyways, itâs not like youâve noticed anything bad yet.Â
The camera is mainly a joke to mess with James and make yourself feel better about the whole thing. Youâll turn it off tonight, be done with it, and hopefully get over this irrational fear of yours.Â
12 AM
You spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse your mouth with water. Youâve noticed a strange metallic taste with all the unfiltered sinks. You're worried you might have to call a plumber or someone to check it out. You donât want to get lead poisoning your first night here.Â
You freeze, still bent over the sink, and your jaw snaps shut. Eyes are boring into the back of your head, hateful and angry. Itâs not James, you would know if it was. This is something different, the hair on the back of your neck is standing up, goosebumps rolling up and down your arms. Thereâs a rush of cool air, like something running past you, and your head shoots up in surprise.Â
You scream when you see James in the mirrorâs reflection. He jumps back in shock, lowering the camera and giving you an exasperated look. A second ago youâd been completely alone and heâd been downstairs, where the fuck did he come from?
âWhat the hell, James?â You wipe your mouth off with the back of your hand and whirl around on him. He glares at you, eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction.Â
âTalk about an overreaction. What the hell is your problem?â He snaps, taking that tone with you that you know means you have to be careful. You donât feel like getting into another fight with him. Especially not tonight.Â
âYou scared me,â you trail off into an awkward laugh, hoping to ease up the mood a little. He slams the camera down on the counter. Your shoulders jump and you flinch back from him slightly. âWhatâre you doing with the camera?â You ask, glancing down at the lens and frowning. You spot the red blinking light and realize heâs still recording, your brows furrow in confusion.Â
âIt was your idea, wasnât it?â His tone is short and you huff in disappointment. You hadnât realized something as small as a little scare would piss him off. You used to be good at reading his moods. Since the wedding, though, he seems to have just gotten more and more unpredictable.Â
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, your feet dangling over the floor as you kick your legs. You hate how tall the damn bed frame is, you have a horrible paranoia that somethingâs going to grab you one day and yank you under. James, of course, had just laughed when you told him this and then bought it. He thought it was funny, that it would help you overcome your fears.Â
You still have goosebumps from earlier, the same breeze from before tickles the pads of your feet. You glance down with wide eyes, yanking your legs into your chest and scooting back from the edge. James flips the lights off in the bathroom and walks to the end of the bed. Heâs dragged out the tripod and has got it pointed at the bed.Â
You tilt your head with a coy smile, âPlanning on having some fun tonight?â
He glances between you and the camera, a confused furrow between his brows. You scoff out a laugh as the realization dawns over him. âIf youâre up for it, I wouldnât mind some after-dark fun.â You roll your eyes and tug the covers over your legs. He leaves the camera and crawls on the bed towards you. âBut thatâs not what it's for.â
âOh yeah?â You glance over his shoulder and then turn back to him with an odd look. âDonât tell me youâre buying into the supernatural junk?â You tuck your head into his chest, letting him pull you closer as he flips the lamp off. âYouâre supposed to keep me tethered to reality, remember?â You tease, looking up at him.Â
He glances down at you and shrugs. âThe lady did say the master bedroom is the worst, Iâm just curious if weâll catch anything.âÂ
You shoot the camera a concerned look and shake your head. âI hope not,â you mutter. You snuggle in closer to him, trying to dismiss the feeling of someone watching you. Youâre sure itâs just from the camera being on you. Besides, you always get too deep in your head about this stuff.
3 AM
You shoot up in bed, chest heaving as you stare down at your feet. James shifts behind you, grumbling as he flips over and steals the rest of the blankets.Â
Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you simply sit there, staring at the end of the bed. You pause, holding your breath like the room might tell you its secrets.Â
Youâre normally a heavy sleeper, not even a fire would get you up. But something just did, you were ripped violently from your slumber. You almost want to dismiss it as an incredibly vivid nightmare. Yet, you canât ignore the throbbing, almost freezing pain, thatâs shooting up and down your left calf.Â
The muscle is spasming sporadically and you can still feel the phantom touch of someone squeezing your leg. Your hip is sore from where youâd been dragged down. Youâve had pretty vivid dreams before. Youâve woken up with your feet sore like youâd been running, or your muscles cramped from twitching around so much. But this is a lot.Â
You take in a deep breath, slowly pulling your legs into your chest. You slump over your bent knees, hoping to catch your breath and settle your racing mind. Itâs impossible to ignore how cold your leg feels, you feel like youâre losing blood circulation. You canât just go back to sleep with it like this, youâre gonna have to go downstairs and get Jamesâ heat pack.Â
Youâre seriously starting to lose feeling in it now. Youâre wondering if something didnât drag you and maybe youâve got a blood clot screwing your circulation up somehow. Hundreds of different possibilities race through your mind, each more worrying than the last. You can't sit up all night scaring yourself, youâre just gonna have to suck it up.Â
You briefly consider waking James up so you donât have to go downstairs alone. You hate how those stairs look in the dark, you feel like something is standing at the end, waiting to reach through the banister and drag you down. A ghost, however, sounds more inviting than making James grumpy before he has to go in for work tomorrow morning.Â
With a heavy sigh, you force yourself off the bed and blindly grope through the dark for the wall. Your left leg is practically dead weight as you drag it behind you. Your hands skate along the dusty walls and you grimace, making a mental note to dust tomorrow.Â
Youâre trying to take it slow, to squint out as many shapes in the dark as you can. Itâs nearly impossible to tell when youâre going to hit the stairs. You can only pray that you donât go toppling headfirst down them.Â
Slowly, you inch your toes forward and curl them around the edge of the step. From there itâs a long, arduous process of just trying to get down the stairs. It feels as though with each step you take, the house only grows darker.Â
You wished you had taken the risk and turned the lights on. The feeling of eyes following you only gets worse as you finally reach the kitchen. The further you get from the bedroom, the worse your leg begins to throb. You can only be happy that you still feel it at all.Â
Your hand skates along the wall until you feel the cool plastic of the light switch. As harsh as it is against the linoleum, itâs a stark relief from being all alone in the dark. You dig around in the moving boxes until you find James' heating pad. You toss it in the microwave and pull yourself on the counter, drumming your fingers while you wait for it to warm up.Â
He hates you. He hates that you live in his house. He hates that sheâs gone. Bette, heâll miss her, the way the old womanâs face would screw up in terror always brought a sick satisfaction to him.Â
You press the warm pad to your leg and hiss through your teeth as feeling begins returning to your calf. He has to admit, he hadnât meant to grab you quite so hard. He just wanted one good scare, to either get you out of here or show you who's in charge. Your leg has turned an odd color in the shape of his handprint and it makes his lips curl up.Â
Thereâs a loud ringing from upstairs. It grates on his already frayed nerves and makes anger roll off of him in violent, tangible waves. Your nose twitches, your face screwing up as you look around. Thereâs a suspicious glint in your eye, one your little husband doesnât share with you.Â
He has to admit, youâre smart enough to realize the truth of your situation, at least. Your husband doesnât share the same characteristic. He seems alarmingly self-assured, not that he minds, those are his favorite types to break.Â
He can hear upstairs, better than you would ever hope to. He listens as your husband picks up the phone, quietly yelling at someone on the other end. A woman, if the timbre is anything to go by. They both sound incredibly angry. Heâs not interested in listening to something as trivial as this.Â
He turns away from you and moves towards the stairs. He pauses at the base of them, glancing over his shoulder and really taking you in. You look so small, curled up on the counter with the look of a frightened child.Â
You scream as the lightbulb above you explodes, plunging you into complete darkness. He smiles to himself, drifting up the stairs and lingering at the end of your bed. Your husbandâs head shoots up in alarm and he pulls the phone away from his ear.Â
The name Martha lingers on the small screen before he quickly flips it off and rushes out of bed. He blows right through the man at the end of his bed, flipping on the lights and racing down the stairs. He calls out your name, voice frantic and bordering on paranoia.Â
He hadnât thought you two would get scared quite so quickly. Heâd been hoping to enjoy this a bit more. Perhaps he should slow down, and savor the long fall into madness before he claims you both. He hovers at the top of the stairs, watching as your husband comforts you.Â
Heâs got his arms wrapped around you, trying to keep you quiet and get you to calm down. From a distance, he could almost be the perfect husband. But that look is all too familiar, heâs seen it a hundred times before. Itâs only now that he recognizes it for what it is. There is no love in your husbandâs gaze, only the fear that youâll find out his little secret.Â
He goes back into the bedroom, swipes the phone off the nightstand, and retreats into the shadows.Â
âDonât,â you slap Jamesâ hands away from you, glaring at him. He purses his lips, huffing out a sharp breath and taking a step back. Anger brews under your skin, warms you up, and makes your jaw ache from how hard youâre clenching down.Â
âHow can you say I made it up?â You shout, no longer caring how loud you are. Your voice cracks at the end as you take on a shrill pitch. You yank up the leg of your yoga pants, shoving your leg towards him.Â
Not only has the skin dipped in the perfect shape of a hand, but itâs also turned into an unnatural shade of green and purple. Itâs like no bruise or injury youâve ever had before. James looks down at the mark like itâs a bug to be squashed or a pile of dog shit he just stepped in.Â
He fixes you with a sneer and shoves it away from him. You let out a harsh breath and stumble slightly into the counter. âWould you quit fucking showing me that? Itâs freaking me out.â
You throw your hands up in the air, giving him an eat-shit look. âHow do you think I feel? It happened to me.â
He shakes his head and turns towards the coffee pot, pouring himself another mug. You canât believe how dismissive heâs being about this whole thing. You have indisputable proof burned into your flesh, and heâs completely ignoring your worries.Â
âWe need to get you to the doctor, okay?â He shakes his head, giving you the look of a disapproving parent, rather than the supportive husband heâs supposed to be. He hadnât even been worried for you last night, just mad that youâd woken him up for nothing.Â
âItâs probably a blood clot, not a damn poltergeist.â
âJames-â His phone ringing cuts you off, and your eyes narrow in disbelief as he reaches for it. Itâs closer to you on the counter so you snatch it up before he can grab it.Â
âWhat are you doing?â He demands, taking on a concerningly low tone.Â
âWeâre going to talk about this, youâre not getting out of this one, James!âÂ
He whispers your name in a voice you havenât heard before. His face is dark, brows set in determination as he slowly extends his hand. âGive me my phone.â
You glance at the Nokia and then back at him. The fear thatâs been ever-present since last night turns into something else. Anxiety and suspicion make a wicked and nauseating brew in your stomach. âWhy?â You whisper, eyes narrowing on him as he takes a step closer. You stumble a step back, holding the phone out of his reach.Â
You feel your hand tremble with its vibrations before it begins to ring again. You look towards it just as James lunges forward. His shoulder nearly barrels into you as he grabs your wrist. His grip is so tight you almost feel the bones creaking together. âJames!â You gasp, the phone tumbling from your palm and into his hand. He shoves you back, tucking it in his pocket and glaring at you.Â
âDonât touch my phone,â you open your mouth to argue and he takes a large step forward. His foot slams against the ground and you flinch back from him, eyes wide in surprise. âDo you understand me,â he demands, slowly and his voice low.Â
You nod, your jaw gaping as you stare at him. He runs a hand through his hair, refusing to meet your eye now. Dark strands fall onto his forehead and he looks more disheveled than youâve seen him in a long while.Â
He looks at his watch and clenches his eyes shut. He pauses, taking in a deep breath as he straightens his tie and rounds the kitchen island. âWhat are you doing?â You ask, your voice so quiet youâre surprised he even hears it.Â
âGoing to work,â he snaps. You canât look at him, you just keep your eyes glued to the floor as the door slams shut. You hold your breath until you hear the car going down the driveway. Ever so slowly, you peel yourself away from the counter.Â
Your hand drifts, without thinking, to the imprints on your wrist. âWhat the fuck,â you mutter, a stunned sort of silence taking over. You canât help but just stand there, completely dumbfounded by how quickly a simple argument escalated.Â
Heâs always had a shorter temper than most, but that was extreme. A door slams upstairs and you scream, leaping forward and whirling towards the noise. âWhat the fuck!â You shout again, stumbling towards the knife block behind you. You can hear footsteps running upstairs and swallow around a ball of fear sinking in your throat.Â
You almost call out âwhos there,â but thatâs a little too stupid for you. Youâre not planning on being the bimbo who dies first in every horror movie. As much as James likes to tease you for being a little simple sometimes, you are equipped with basic survival skills.Â
You look towards the coffee maker, the port where your home phone should be is empty. You rush towards the windows, glancing out the driveway and cursing when you find it empty. You were hoping that James might still be in his car, steaming before he comes back in to apologize. But, no, heâs really gone.Â
Another door slams and it feels a little petty. Despite the way your heart races and youâre struggling to catch your breath, you donât feel like youâre in any immediate danger. The looming presence that hung over you last night is gone. James had dismissed the lightbulb exploding as an old house and bad lighting.Â
You know better, despite the claims otherwise, and you sincerely doubt that thereâs an actual person upstairs. And whatever it is, was smart enough to steal your phone. You slink towards the end of the stairs, just barely craning your neck so you can see into your bedroom. Except the door isnât open like you left it.Â
Light comes through the crack of the closed door. You take a tentative step up, eyes squinting as you try and get a glimpse under the door. A shadow darts past, like rushing footsteps. You gasp, leaping back and covering your mouth with trembling hands.Â
The hair on the back of your neck stands, and the loose hairs from your braids blow across your cheeks, tickling your sensitive skin. Old vents, thatâs what James told you. His attempt to explain the inexplicable breeze that seems to be following you everywhere you go. Youâre bundled head to toe in fuzzy socks, warm pants, and a too-big sweatshirt. And still, you feel your fingers nearly go numb and you can barely feel your nose anymore.Â
Thatâs not a poor AC system. And those arenât feet under your door. Youâre so focused on simply watching the movements under the door that you completely forget anything else. Youâre blind and deaf as you watch whatever is moving about in your room. A loud clank breaks through the silence and you nearly scream.Â
Your bones almost jump out of your skin as the ice machine starts going and rattles up the old fridge. You clench your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath and glaring at the white machine. âFuck me,â you mutter, holding your chest and just barely calming yourself down.Â
Youâve only been here a night, you shouldnât be so fucking terrified. Youâre ready to just go out into the backyard and wait the rest of the day for James to come back. If you could drive off, you would. But youâve only got one working car right now and heâs taken it to work. You move to grab your laptop off the couch when something creaks behind you.Â
Old hinges cry out as theyâre slowly forced to work. The sound of steps going down the stairs occupies the space behind you. You canât find the bravery to turn around, too scared to see what might be there. Something ice cold passes through you. It nearly feels like a violation, as though something was rooting through your insides like it belonged there. It couldnât have lasted more than two seconds but it was more than enough to have you nearly vomiting up your scarce breakfast.Â
The moment itâs over you feel yourself calming down. As though an instinctual intuition has been activated, you know the dangerâs passed. Whatever it had been trying to accomplish with that little show, it did it.Â
You turn back to your room, the lights off and the door open, looking just as you left it. You glance over your shoulder, looking into the kitchen before starting up the stairs. You give a hesitant peek into the room like you expect it to be a wreck. But it looks spotless, the camera is in the same place James left it, still recording.Â
You file that away in the back of your mind. Maybe the camera picked up what happened last night, or maybe James is right. You really are just getting too far into your head. A shrill ringing goes off near James nightstand and you frown. Your phone buzzes on his side of the bed, MOM lighting up the square screen.Â
You let out a short huff, quickly snatching your phone and answering. Maybe she can talk some sense into you, or, more preferably, come over to keep you company. âHey mom,â you answer, smiling slightly to yourself. Itâs been a little while since youâve been able to talk to her. James had banned phones after the honeymoon and then youâd gotten caught up in house stuff, jobs, and the aftermath of the wedding âincident.â
An older voice than youâd been expecting answers on the other end, saying your name in a confused tone. Your brows furrow and you frown, âMrs. Barnes?â
âHoney,â she sounds strained, like she really hadnât been expecting you to answer. James must have taken your phone by accident. It makes sense, theyâre both the same model, but you put a little pink charm on your Nokia so youâd stop making this mistake. Yet, when you look to your left, you see your charm lying on your nightstand. When had you taken that off?
âWhereâs James?â
âUm,â youâre still a little thrown off by her voice and take a second to answer. âWork, I think he took the wrong phone,â you laugh a little, disconcerted that itâs not your motherâs comforting voice.Â
âMust have,â she answers, she sounds like sheâs a million miles away, her tone distant. âWell, um, just tell him to call me back.â
âAlright,â you hesitate, concerned by how off she sounds. âIs everything alright?â You know things have been tough for her since her husband passed on. Jamesâ sisters have been helping her adjust, but the wedding had taken him away from his family for a little while. He hasnât actually shown any signs of wanting to reach out and it makes you feel guilty, like youâre keeping him away from her.Â
Mrs. Barnes, a living saint you swear, has been nothing but kind as she welcomes you into her family. This is the first time sheâs ever been so distant to you. You act more like her family than James does nowadays.Â
âHas, uh,â she coughs, clearing her throat. You can almost hear what sounds like Francesca on the other end, hollering at her. The sound of Jamesâ older sisterâs voice makes you smile a little wider. âHas James said anything to you?â
Your brows furrow and you shake your head in confusion, even if she canât see you. âAbout what?â
âOh, crumbs,â she huffs and you have a feeling whatever she was about to say was important, but someone is snatching the phone away before you can hear the rest of it. Youâd been so focused on her voice that you hadnât even heard James come back in.Â
He glares down at the phone, face pale and eyes wide like heâs expecting something horrific. When he places it to his ear and hears his momâs voice, his shoulders slump in relief. You narrow your eyes at him, disoriented by the strange behavior.Â
âMom,â he interrupts her rudely, âIâll call you later. Okay?â He hangs up before she can answer. He tugs your phone out of his pocket and tosses it next to you on the bed. âAnswering my phone now? What are you, my secretary?â
You slip your phone into your back pocket, not looking at him as you get off the bed. âI thought it was mine. I think my charm broke off.â You put some distance between the two of you, glancing down at his phone and then back at him. âWhy are you being so weird about it?â
He flinches like youâve just accused him of something far worse than being overly protective of his phone. âI donât like you digging around in my phone. Thatâs a problem now?â You open your mouth to argue, but he just keeps going, cutting you off, âYouâre so goddamn paranoid. First the ghost, now this,â he gestures vaguely at you and you scoff, crossing your arms and glaring at him.Â
You two are devolving far quicker than he had anticipated. It must have been a fragile relationship, to begin with. James slams the door and you slump down on the bed, you almost look like you want to cry.Â
He goes down the stairs, watching through the window as your husband lingers on the front porch. He calls someone, his mom, and starts yelling at her as he gets to his car. Looking away from the window, he sighs.Â
Heâd been close, if James hadnât come home he probably could have pushed you over the edge immediately. He doesnât know if heâs disappointed or happy that his game gets to go on a little longer.
You come back down the stairs, eyes rimmed red and shoulders slumped in defeat. You brush through him, not even noticing the chill he leaves behind in you. You have the camera in your hand and a cord in the other. He grins, excited to finally have you see the truth of what happened last night.Â
You plug the camera into your laptop, scrubbing through the footage of last night. He leans over your shoulder and watches as goosebumps rise along your skin. You sigh, tugging a blanket over your shoulders, but he knows that wonât do anything to help you.Â
Nothing will unless you leave. But your husband has made it clear that youâre not getting out of here until he has actual proof anything supernatural lurks inside these haunted walls. Right here, in your lap, you have your proof. A phantom wind blows up the sheets of the bed, an unexplainable tug of your leg that drags you halfway down the bed. Itâs violent and he almost feels sorry, he really hadnât meant to hurt you, only scare you.Â
His fingers drift over your leg and you jump, whirling around, wide eyes looking right through him. He canât help but admire the way fear makes them shine. Youâre quite pretty when youâre terrified, he couldnât say the same for the hag that used to live here.Â
Youâre slow to turn back to the computer, but when you do, thereâs a slight curve to your lips that he appreciates. âI fucking knew it,â you whisper, slamming the screen closed and getting to your feet.Â
Youâre giddy, he can taste the satisfaction overpowering the fear. You round the couch, taking in a deep breath and shaking out your arms. Your face sets in determination and you start working on clearing out the moving boxes.Â
He doesnât feel the urge to mess with you any further. He leaves you in peace, lounging in your armchair and watching you work. Heâs got a nice surprise worked up for you tonight, no need to take todayâs playtime any further.Â
Youâre efficient, only occasionally getting distracted as you smile at pictures of your wedding day. You put those up on the mantle, beside some family photos. Itâs clear how much you value your familial bonds, even your husbands. You put it front and center in the home, reminding him of how it once looked.Â
Thereâs a stark sense of deja vu as he watches you work, a nauseating feeling of what could have been. He can practically taste the newlywed bliss youâre going through. Even with your husband being a piece of work, you still value him, love him. Heâd once known that love, hell, heâd reveled in it.Â
But the curtain always has to come down. The magicâs never real. Heâs doing you a favor by showing you the truth of it all. His gaze drifts away from you cooking dinner and he looks towards the pictures on the mantle.Â
Jamesâ mother reminds him of his own. He always wondered what happened to her, what her life was like after he was gone. Neither of them ever got what they wanted. She died wondering what happened to her only son, and he died without getting to say goodbye.Â
He thinks of Bette, and feels that familiar white-hot rush of anger, your scream comes a moment later. He glances towards you, confused, before he follows your eyes and sees that heâs accidentally shattered the frames of the pictures.Â
You gasp, sucking in shallow breaths as you stumble into the counter, brows furrowed in terror. He clenches his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath, and tamps down on the anger overwhelming him.Â
The door opens and your socked feet go rushing towards it, you nearly slip on the hardwoods, arms spinning wildly as you right yourself. James flinches away from your frantic hands as you grab his jacket and drag him inside. âThe fucking pictures,â you stutter out your words and point frantically towards the mantle.Â
James grimaces, tugging at your hands and looking towards him. He doesnât see him, of course he doesnât. But he does see his little accident. James scoffs, face screwing up in anger, he turns towards you. His face is set like a disappointed parent. âYou broke them? Our wedding pictures, seriously. All because of a stupid fight?â
He jerks away from you, storming towards the glass and kicking at it. âYou didnât even clean it up,â he says your name, tone increasing in anger. You stare at him, disbelieving and open-mouthed.Â
He sits back on the armchair, thoroughly amused. He hadnât even had to do anything to turn him against you. Your sweet James has just been waiting for a reason to get mad. âThis is fucking petty, even for you.â
âWhat, James,â you stumble over your words, taking a hesitant step towards him. He thinks youâre pretty when youâre scared, but not like this. He doesnât appreciate the way you approach your husband like heâs a rabid dog. You shouldnât be scared of him, not yet at least. He hasnât even had his fun with him yet.Â
âIt wasnât me, I swear-â
âNot this ghost shit again, seriously-â
âI have proof!â You shout, your voice is desperate as you try and make yourself louder than him. You run towards your laptop, and ignore the burning smell coming from the oven. He gets up, drifting towards it and turning it off before either of you can notice. No point in having the house burn down. Where would that leave him?
You plug the camera in, turning the screen towards him. James doesnât make a move yet, simply glaring at you like youâre a bug to be swatted. âPlease,â you beg, pathetic and needy. He huffs, rolling his eyes as he watches you both. Itâs all so familiar to him, he feels like heâs watching his unfortunate disaster of a marriage play out through you.Â
You scrub through the times, cussing as you pass over the clip of you getting dragged. Thereâs a frantic look in your eye as you hit play. It almost makes him feel bad for whatâs about to happen.Â
âWhat am I supposed to be looking at?â James snaps.Â
Your face falls and you move the mouse forward and back, looking like a madwoman as you try to find the right moment. You wonât, he made sure of that. Nothing but static plays when you get to the parts that would prove your innocence.Â
James tugs at his tie, shaking his head in disappointment. âNot only did you fuck up all our pictures, you didnât even have dinner ready.â He shoves past you, heading up the stairs and muttering to himself. He pulls out his phone, lingering on a contact he shouldnât before pressing call.Â
You stay still in the living room, looking at the shattered glass and then the oven. âI made your favorite,â you whisper. You suck in a shaky breath, swallowing hard as you kneel down to try and pick up the remnants of your wedding photos.Â
3 AM
He sits on the bed, glancing towards the blinking red light of the camera. Thereâs a clear wall between you and your husband, even if neither of you wants to acknowledge it. You lay curled up in yourself, like a child afraid to seek comfort. He pities you, truly.Â
He remembers the happiness of youth, the rush of being married to the person you believe is the love of your life. He will never forget the pain of realizing the person youâve given everything to turning into someone you donât recognize.Â
His hand drifts over the swell of your cheek. Your lashes flutter, nose wrinkling at the cold brush of his touch. But you donât flinch away from him, instead leaning into him and looking almost happy by his touch.Â
He looks to your husband, eyes narrowing on his relaxed form. He sees the phone lying near him and his face sets in determination. Heâs not going to let you fall into the same trap he did. And he certainly isnât about to let another soul cramp the already stuffy walls of his home.Â
Itâs been quiet around the house. Less strange events and more strained dinners between you and your husband. Youâve taken to bringing the camera everywhere with you. But anytime a light bulb explodes or a frame topples over, the video goes static.Â
You should have given up the hunt for evidence but you canât give it up. You just need James to see, you need him to believe you. Or, at the very least, you need some assurance that youâre not going crazy. Youâve begun to consider the possibility.Â
The bruise on your leg is gone, the constant chills that rack you are still very much present, but thereâs nothing else. Everything that happens can be explained by the age of the house. Youâve only briefly discussed it with Jamesâ sisters. Elizabeth gave you the number of a medium she knows.Â
James had gotten angry when he found the business card after her visit. He didnât like her filling your head with more nonsense and indulging you. You didnât like how dismissive he was. Itâs been a few days since the fight and you still have no desire to reconcile with him.Â
Itâs becoming easier to simply ignore his presence around the house. You know itâs not healthy. Youâve only just begun the marriage, you donât need to have communication issues tainting it before itâs even on its legs.Â
Still, itâs as though somethingâs keeping you from him. Every attempt at speaking with him is interrupted, thoughts of apologizing just to placate him are struck from your head quicker than they come.Â
You stand up from the kitchen table, placing your pictures to the side. Youâve finally gotten new frames for them all, you only need to put them back up. You have no problems putting up the family pictures. Yet, the moment you make to grab the wedding picture of you and James, you grow inexplicably tired.Â
Your eyelids flutter shut and you sway on your feet. Your bones grow heavy like youâve been working all day. But youâve only been up a few hours, and you had so much more to do today. You try and fight forward, leaning on the table and reaching for the portrait again. You almost feel like youâre nudged back, moved towards the couch.Â
A short nap, you promise yourself. Just long enough to get your energy back.Â
He followed him to work. Thatâs never happened before. Heâs never been able to follow someone out of the house. He tried, with Steve, he tried to make every aspect of his life hell. But he couldnât.Â
Yet, with this one, he has no problem following him. Maybe itâs the odd resemblance they have. A haircut and a shave, they could be identical twins. But then again, he hasnât seen his face in a long while, perhaps heâs misremembering it.Â
Itâs difficult to maintain this control. Half of him lingers in the house, with you, the other half is here. Heâs being drawn closer to James and further from you. He doesnât know if thatâs conducive or an interruption to his plans.Â
He only vaguely sees you, in his mindâs eye. He leads you to the couch, lays you down, and keeps you away from the reminders of James. Heâs gotten good at keeping you both separated. It was easy to begin with, all heâs doing is showing you the truth of the man you married. If only he could really show you.Â
James phone rings and he focuses on him once more. Itâs Martha again. He hasnât figured out the truth of their relationship, heâs sure he already knows it. Heâs lived this life once, knows the truth of why a husband would act like this. The late-night calls, the constant misdirection of anger.Â
Heâs paranoid, terrified youâll find out the truth. He wants to have his cake and eat it too. The perfect housewife at home, and the mistress who fulfills his every desire. At least, thatâs his theory. He still needs to be completely sure.Â
He ignores James, focusing once more on his connection to the house. He finds you right where he left you, deep in your sleep and completely oblivious to the world around you. He kneels before you, sweeping some hair off your cheeks and tilting his head as he takes in your restful face.Â
You look so peaceful when youâre like this, a slight curl to your lips as you wander through dreamland. He wished he could keep you like this, wished he could completely get rid of James. But without him, you wouldnât be able to keep the house. Youâd leave it, leave him. He canât have that. Heâs been lonely for so long, he needs you, craves you.Â
6 PM
âHow was work?â
âFine.â
Chewing fills the cavernous silence of your dining room. Forks scrape across porcelain, shallow breaths as you both dance around the tension that threatens to tie a noose around your marriage. You reach for your wine, hoping for another heady swallow. Just like before, youâre dissuaded from it.Â
You grow tired at the thought of drowning your sorrows in the alcohol for another night. You clench your eyes shut and take a deep breath, moving the glass away from you and turning back to the roast you made.Â
Jamesâ brows furrow as he watches you. âEverything alright?â
You hum, âTired.â He scoffs and your face falls flat. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he cuts more aggressively into the meat. "Something wrong?â You demand, sucking on your teeth as you anticipate his answer. Youâre sure itâs going to be the same broken record heâs been playing since the honeymoon.Â
âNothing,â he shrugs, tone dismissive. He pauses, taking a deep breath before laughing sardonically. âItâs just funny.â You hate how he does this, drags out his answers, and forces you to take the bait.Â
Youâre not playing this game of his tonight. You wonât do it again. You canât keep going in circles with him, canât keep indulging him in these childish tantrums. He waits, eyebrows raised and pretty blue eyes boring into yours, demanding attention.Â
Those damn eyes. You wish he was just a little uglier, maybe then you wouldnât have been so blind to how fucking awful he really is. You almost resent his mother and sisters for this. They could have warned you off, told you the horror stories of his past before the wedding. Instead, theyâd warned you after it was too late and your entire life was entangled in his.Â
âI work all day, come home, want a peaceful meal. What do I get?â
He falls silent again and you let out a heavy sigh. âI donât know, James,â you drawl, bored of this already. Your patience for him is practically nonexistent nowadays. You used to be able to endure these conversations with him, or at the very least soothe him. But youâre tired of feeling like a babysitter and not the wife youâre supposed to be. âWhat do you get? A homecooked meal, a clean house, someone to come home to. Tell me,â you demand, slamming your hand on the table and surprising him. âWhat the fuck do you get?â
âA nagging fucking wife who does jack shit all day and complains about being tired! I work for us, so you can stay home and live out your little housewife fantasies!â
Your jaw drops and you suck in a sharp breath. You canât even form words, nearly laughing at the audacity and ridiculousness of what heâs saying. âOh my god,â you can only scoff, shaking your head and leaning back in your chair. You smile and roll your eyes. âYouâre kidding, right?â
âNo.â He stands, leaning on the table and trying to make himself bigger than he is. It only paints him in a more pathetic light.Â
You cut him off before he can say anything else, scooping up your plate and storming into the kitchen. âYouâre the one who insisted I quit my job. You,â you turn and gesture towards him, a disgusted sneer on your face, âwanted a fucking housewife. I was just the dumbass that listened to you. You have no right to throw that in my face. You wanted this, James!â
âYeah, well,â for a moment you think heâs speechless. His jaw opens and closes, nothing but air leaving his parted lips. You should know better by now, heâs always got some bullshit to spew. âI didnât think youâd be so incompetent at this.â
You drop the plate in the sink, leaning on it for support and closing your eyes. You take in deep breaths, trying to cool down the heat racing under your skin. Your bloodâs pumping so hard youâre surprised a vein hasnât burst yet.Â
âFuck this,â you push off the sink, shoving past him and moving towards the front door.Â
âWhat are you doing?â He demands, watching as you grab your coat and your keys.Â
âGoing for a walk,â you tell him shortly, slamming the door behind you. You just need some time away from him, away from the suffocating shadow that seems to linger behind him all the time now.Â
You pull the business card Elizabeth had given you and dial the number. You donât know if this anger is coming from whatever the hell lives in that house or if this was always coming. But youâre not going to just roll over and let this thing ruin your marriage.Â
7 PM
Youâre out for an hour. Heâs upset the entire time. He wants to drive Jamesâ head into the corner of the counter over and over again until thereâs nothing left but unidentifiable mush. Itâs the same fight he used to have. It always started over something so stupid, he could never say anything right.Â
No matter how many times he thought he finally figured Bette out. Every time he thought he had avoided some trigger for her, a new one formed. It didnât matter how perfect of a husband he was, he would never be enough because he wasn't him. He wasnât Steve, the man who could do no wrong in her eyes.Â
He stands in the corner and watches as James paces for a while before he finally leaves, taking his keys and his phone. He takes the car and leaves you stranded here at the house.Â
He knows that James could fix the car sitting idle in the garage. He could fix the car. Itâs just another way of keeping you under control. James gets to decide when and where you get to go out, you donât get a say.Â
You seem relieved, though, when you come back and see James gone. Youâre happier without your husband, itâs both good and bad. He needs you to resent James, needs you to hate him. But that could prove tricky for him in the future.Â
âThank you so much,â youâre on the phone, youâve got something lumpy in your jacket. One hand lays under the buttons of your coat, stroking idly. âYeah, Thursday sounds great. Thank you, again, for coming on such late notice.â
You hang up, placing your keys and phone in the bowl by the door. âAlright, sweetheart, letâs get you cleaned up.â You open your jacket, revealing a bundle of matted, dirty fur underneath. Somewhere in all that mess is the scrunched face of a pissed-off cat.Â
You coo to it, stroking its head and ignoring the fact it looks like it wants to rip your hand off. You bring it to the kitchen sink and he watches as you take the next few hours to wash its wounds and properly groom it.Â
He never cared much for cats, or any animals, really. He never had the time or the energy to try and take care of something other than Bette. She was practically a full-time job to cater to. But he enjoys how peaceful you look being able to take care of the cat. He enjoys how much sympathy you display, even as the little bastard rips and tears at your pretty skin.Â
He looms over your shoulder, stroking his phantom fingers over the cat's wet fur. Itâs enough to scare it into submission. Its claws release your skin and it shrinks back into your hold. He grins, backing away and leaving you to it.Â
You frown down at the cat, murmuring soothing words to it as you look around the kitchen. Sometimes he thinks you see him, thinks you can truly see through all the walls and witness whatâs left of the man he was. He knows it's foolish, a ridiculous hope.Â
Youâll never be able to see him. Even if you could, you would only think of him as a tormentor. He was a blight on your home and marriage, why would you ever care about him?
3 AM
You feel eyes on you. Not the unfamiliar eyes youâve been feeling, you know these. Intimately. You stir from your light sleep, squinting through the dark. Minimal light comes in through the blinds, but it's just enough for you to see the figure standing beside you.Â
You gasp, flinching away from James. He just stands over you, glaring down at where you slept. Eyes devoid of anything. âJames?â You whisper. Alpine, the cat you snagged from a neighborâs dumpster, leaps off the bed.Â
She hisses at James, skirting around him and running out of the room. Your brows furrow in confusion. You look back to James, muttering his name again. He gasps like he was dragged out of a coma.Â
He stumbles on his feet, tripping over them and nearly nosediving into the bed. You instinctively steady him, guiding him onto the bed beside you. âWhat are you doing?â You hiss at him, holding his face in your hands and looking him over for any explanation of what was just happening.Â
Youâve never even heard him talk in his sleep. Let alone, sleep with his eyes wide open and staring at you. It was beyond disturbing. Thereâs something unfamiliar in his eyes, theyâre soft as he looks at you. Soft in a way they havenât been for a long time.Â
His hand comes up to cup yours, the other almost hesitantly running across your cheek. âJames?â You ask again, caught off guard by the odd display of affection.
âIâm sorry,â he mutters. Youâre ninety percent sure youâre still dreaming, heâs never apologized first before. Itâs always been you to broker the peace. Youâll sacrifice being right if it means heâll stop giving you the cold shoulder, heâs never done the same.Â
You try to ask him what heâs talking about, but heâs surging forward before you can speak. His lips are chapped, dryer than youâre used to. He doesnât give you much time to process anything. His hands drift to your waist, dragging you into his lap as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Youâre taken aback by the taste of metal on his tongue. Itâs coppery and bitter, not at all like the mint toothpaste you both use.Â
Heâs not kissing you like youâre used to. Heâs not trying to devour you or suffocate you by shoving his tongue as far as it goes down your throat. This is gentle, sweet. It feels like youâre being savored, not claimed. You donât mind it, in fact, it would be nice if you werenât so disturbed.Â
Heâs not acting like himself, he barely looks like he should, and he tastes wrong. This isnât your husband kissing you. You want to pull away, you try to. But his fingers are digging into your waist and your lips are firmly locked. You can feel the chill of his hands through your pajamas. Theyâre like icicles, youâre sure thereâs going to be a mark from them in the morning.Â
âJames,â you manage to mutter, pulling away from him just enough to catch your breath. âWhatâs,â you trail off, tongue growing too heavy to speak. Your words slur together, become one nonsensical jumble stuck in your throat.Â
He shakes his head, biting his lip and slowly lowering you back onto the bed. âIâm sorry. I thought this would work.â You narrow your eyes, you have barely enough energy to shake your head in confusion. Your lips part to ask another question. He leans down, pressing one last gentle kiss to you before your eyes roll back and youâre asleep again.Â
âI told you I have it handled,â James practically pouts as he sits in your armchair. You used to use it to crochet, itâs got the best view of the backyard and you like to watch the bunnies that live under the porch. But more and more, he stays there. Every second heâs home, he seems to live in that chair.Â
Bette had given it to you with the house. You hadnât really thought anything of it, but with how heâs been acting lately, you canât help but wonder if itsâ connected to whatever secrets live in these walls. Most people would be haunted and their husbands would get worse, you seem to be experiencing the opposite.Â
Heâs kinder, heâs bringing you flowers and cooking you breakfast. Youâre woken up with praise and gentle kisses. Then heâs back to normal by lunchtime. Heâs miserable at dinner, only to wake you up in the middle of the night with saccharine apologies. Youâre so sick and tired of living in this whirlwind of love and misery. You just want some goddamn answers.Â
You need to know the truth of whatâs happening to you. Is this just how James is? Is this the house? Is there even anything wrong with the house?
Youâre hoping the medium will be able to answer that for you today. Mystic Wanda, the name doesnât give you much hope but Elizabeth told you sheâs one of the best.Â
Alpine runs against your legs and James glowers at her. âI told you I wanted her out of here.â
âTough,â you respond bluntly, eyes trained on the front door. Heâd thrown a hissy fit when he saw her the morning after your weird make-out session. You hadnât bent, though, and you know heâs still upset youâre no longer blindly giving into his whims.Â
The doorbell rings and you leap off the couch, rushing towards the door and throwing it open. Wandaâs eyes widen in amusement and she smiles at your eagerness. âPlease, come in, and thank you again for coming on such short notice.â
You usher her inside, offering to take her jacket. She passes it to you, eyeing the interior of your home and giving you an appeasing smile. âWell, Elizabeth is a good friend of mine, she told me you were having an emergency and I wanted to help.â
James scoffs from the armchair and she glances over at him with a bemused look. You glare at him over her shoulder. âJames, I presume?â
âOh,â his eyes widen in faux amazement, âdid you divine that?â
Her eyebrows raise and you know sheâs unimpressed. âI could tell from the attitude. Your sister warned me you were a cynic.â
He mutters a bitter, âWhatever,â under his breath and goes back to ignoring her.Â
âIâm sorry about him,â you take her by the elbow, guiding her into the kitchen and away from him. You peer over into the living room, ensuring he canât hear you. Wanda waits expectantly for you to begin speaking.Â
âHeâs why I wanted you to come.â You tell her, fiddling idly with your wedding band. âHeâs not himself lately.â
âMore volatile?â She guesses and you shake your head, laughing bitterly to yourself.
âLess, actually. But heâs unpredictable. I never know when heâs going to be this sweet stranger or the miserable man Iâve grown used to.â
Her brows twitch and a confused smile graces her lips. âMost people arenât upset when their husband gets better.â
âI know itâs odd,â you admit, sighing and looking down at the countertop. âBut, I just need to know Iâm not going crazy. Iâve been dragging this around everywhere,â you push your camera towards her. âEvery time something happens, the feed cuts out. Iâve been dragged down my bed, harassed, made to think Iâm losing my mind.â
You run a rough hand over your face, feeling the aches of this whole experience settle wearily along your bones. âI just need some clarity. Thatâs all.â
âWell,â she reaches for your hand, squeezing it in hers and giving you a comforting smile. âI can certainly help with that.â
Wanda sits in the armchair, having booted James out of it. He seems a little bit more cognizant as he sits beside you, a little more scared. You keep a wary eye on him while Wanda closes her eyes and âconnectsâ with the house, as she put it.Â
She breaks the silence abruptly and it makes you jump. âThis chair came with the house?â You nod silently but you have a feeling she already knew the answer. She hums, running her hand along the arm of it.Â
âIt was his before it was stolen by the man he called friend. He lives in it, watches you from it.â You feel your heart racing, panic steadily rising within you. Itâs like a physical caress, the fear trailing down your spine. âHe wants something, too many things,â she sighs and shakes her head, frustration playing along her fine features. âItâs hard to discern the truth of it all.â
âBut heâs real?â You cut in, imploring her to tell you what youâre desperate to hear.
She gives you a resigned smile, but thereâs no happiness in it. âIâm afraid so.â She shouldnât be so apologetic, this is all you wanted. To know you werenât crazy, to have James hear it too. But when you look to him for some satisfactory celebration, his face is slack.Â
âJames?âÂ
Wanda leaps up from the chair, taking a step towards him. Your husband is gone, any sign of awareness or thought is completely gone. He looks devoid of life, like heâs been a living corpse for weeks. âJames?â You call again, voice threatening to break.Â
His jaw snaps shut and you jump back, rushing off the couch and stumbling towards Wanda. She grabs you, tugging you behind her, and takes in a deep inhale. âItâs him,â she whispers, eyes wide with fear. âIâve never encountered one so strong before.â
You glance at her and then back at James. Thereâs fury playing on his features, and again, those eyes you donât recognize yet somehow feel familiar. âI think you should leave,â he demands, his voice low.Â
It isnât the normal way he commands you. This is a threat, a complete assurance of power. James stands up in one fluid motion, stalking toward Wanda. She goes stiff before you and you worry sheâs going to go slack the same way James did.Â
âNow,â he tells her, eyebrows raised with impatience.Â
âJames, she can help,â you try. His head whips toward yours and you flinch away from the intense look he gives you.Â
âWe donât need her help,â he whispers your name and it almost sounds like heâs pleading with you. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, you glance between Wanda and James, unsure which to follow.Â
Wanda shakes her head as you take a step back from her. Jamesâ shoulders slump with relief. âDonât do this,â Wanda warns. âI wonât be able to come back here again. Heâs growing stronger, youâll be beyond anyoneâs help soon-â
She's cut off as the light bulb above you explodes. You scream, moving instinctively towards your husband. His arms eagerly wrap around you, drawing you into his gentle hold. He runs a hand over your back and you almost miss the quiet apology he mutters into your hair.Â
âLeave,â James doesnât have to tell her again. She practically runs to the door, nearly forgetting her coat as she rushes out. You slump against him, somehow feeling defeated even after getting what you wanted.Â
âDoll?â He peers down at you, pulling back slightly to get a better look. âAre you okay?â
You stare into eyes you know donât belong to your husband and force yourself to nod. You let this stranger hold you close and ignore the sinking weight of guilt. He feels so much better than James ever did and you hate yourself for thinking that.Â
Your husband is in there somewhere, being tormented by some malevolent spirit, and youâre letting him do what he wants to you. Playing house with him like everythingâs normal. âCome on, let's go outside.â
You canât do anything except listen to him. In the back of your mind, you think about how odd it is that heâs showing himself now. He usually waits until later in the day.Â
How sick is it, you have a schedule for when your husband will be possessed?
He leads you to the back porch, to the rocking chairs that were there when you moved in. but he doesnât let you sit in one. No, he guides you down onto his lap, keeping you close as you get yourself comfortable.Â
James isnât like this. He doesnât let you love him like this. Your touch practically repulses him nowadays. But he canât seem to get enough of you now. Holding onto you like he might not get to again.Â
âWanda said he was growing stronger,â you mutter absentmindly. He goes tense under you, but he doesnât yell at you or get mad. He just squeezes your hand in his, idly tracing shapes over your palm.Â
âI was thinking of planting some rosebushes,â he tells you, completely brushing over what you said.Â
âI thought you wanted to rip the garden out and build a pool,â you tell him bitterly. The neighborhood has its own pool. Youâve been begging James to keep the old ladyâs flowers in the back but he wonât have it.Â
Now, miraculously, heâs giving in to your whims. You donât know if you should be happy or disgusted. Youâre sitting on the lap of something that isnât your husband anymore. You donât feel like you can trust your mind anymore. You struggle to differentiate between your dreams and reality.Â
He laughs a little, brushing some hair out of your face and smiling at you. Itâs not the smile you fell in love with, or the eyes you fell in love with, but you can feel yourself falling. Or, maybe, youâre just desperate for someone to be kind to you. For someone to love you the way a husband should love his wife.Â
âI want you to be happy, Doll.â James doesnât call you Doll.
âMaybe some gardenias too,â you lean back into his chest, letting yourself get more comfortable.Â
You feel his smile against your skin, he turns his nose to nuzzle against your cheek, planting a kiss there. âIâll buy the seeds tomorrow.â You nod absentmindedly, trying to settle the way your stomach flips.Â
3 AM
âJames!â You scream his name, leaping onto his side of the bed and holding onto him as tight as you can. He shoots up, grabbing you and turning you to face him.Â
âWhat?â He demands, face pale with worry.Â
You frown, glaring at him, âYou didnât hear that?â The bedroom door slams closed and you scream again, curling into his hold.Â
âHoly shit!â He shouts, he tries to hold onto you but something grabs his leg. The same way youâd been dragged the first night, heâs pulled out of bed. You scream his name, the bedroom door flies open, and watch as heâs dragged into the hall.Â
You leap over the bed, feet tangled in the sheets as you lunge towards the door. Heâs screaming, primal sounds of nothing but pure terror ripping through the house. You pound on the locked door, tearing at the knob until you think you might rip it off.Â
âJames! Please!â You sob against the wood, slamming your shoulder into it until it cracks. Pain shoots down to your elbow and you flinch back, âFuck,â the screams go quiet on the other side of the door and your eyes widen.Â
âJames!â You screech, your fists pound against the door until you feel the skin crack and blood dribble down your arms. Something cool brushes against your neck, like a breath. âStop,â you plead, âstop it, give him back.â
The door swings outward, the wrong way, and you wonder how the hinges donât break. The only light on is the linen closet. The same closest that you know has a scuttlehole. You donât think, just run towards it. Your bare feet pound against the hardwood, shaking the whole house in your race for the door.Â
You burst through, nearly stumbling facefirst into the ladder. You clench your eyes shut, nails digging into your palms as you look up to see the scuttle hole already open and beckoning you forward.Â
Blood trails up the ladder and you could almost cry seeing it. You canât waste time, canât dawdle. You donât know what happened to James but you know itâs not good that heâs quiet. You force yourself up the rickety ladder, pulling yourself into the attic and looking around for any signs of life.Â
You didnât realize how much junk the old lady had left behind in the house. But the attic is chock full of her past. Dusty and browned filing boxes litter old antique tables. Wardrobes, trunks of clothes from the fifties. A mannequin with an unfinished dress. Thereâs an entire life up here, one she seemed to have just willingly left behind.Â
You frown down at something that really draws your eye, a box with a scrawled B.B. on the side. The lightâs on, but it's dim and only illuminates the box. Still, you try and squint through the dark to find James. Thereâs no sign of him anywhere, you canât help but wonder what the trail of blood on the ladder was.Â
You lean down and pick up the box. âWhatâre you doing?â
You scream, your throat going sore from how much you seem to be doing that tonight. James is on the ladder behind you, a dazed look on his face as he waits for your answer. You tilt your head in confusion, trying to calm your heart from the adrenaline rush that was ten minutes earlier.Â
These are different eyes. This isnât him. Your gaze darts back to the box and you pass it to him. âTake that,â you demand. He doesnât question you, if anything it seems to make him happy. He drops it down the ladder and holds his hand out to help you down.Â
You take it, hissing at how cold his hands are. He only gives you another eerie smirk. Once youâre steady and on the ground, you back slowly out into the hallway. âWhat happened earlier?â
He shrugs, âI donât know. I must have been sleepwalking.â
Your face drops and you scoff, âYou were fucking dragged down the hall and I got locked in the bedroom. You werenât sleepwaking, James.â
He wraps an arm around your shoulder and flips the lights off. Youâre plunged into darkness, a slight whimper ripping its way out of your throat. Youâre forced to rely on his guidance as he leads you down the hall. âYouâre tired, Doll, we should just go to bed.â
You think back to the box, waiting for you in the closet. Thereâs no arguing with him, though. Youâll have to deal with it tomorrow morning. You can only pray that youâre not awoken so violently again.Â
âSweetheart,â you mumble tiredly, swatting blindly at the voice. Thereâs a low chuckle, and then the familiar press of lips against your forehead. âWake up, Iâve gotta go soon.â
Youâre slow to open your eyes, just barely making out Jamesâ blurry shape. âJames,â you mutter, narrowing your eyes to try and force them to focus on his form. âWhatâre you doing?â You asked, words slurring together.Â
He places a tray down on the nightstand and the smells of coffee and pancakes break your dazed trance. You sit up straighter in bed, giving him a confused look. Two years of dating, and a few months of marriage, not once has he greeted you with breakfast in bed.Â
âJames?â you question, he only shakes his head, darting forward to kiss you. Your eyes flutter shut and you find yourself leaning into the touch. It doesnât take long for it to grow heated, his chilled hands drifting under your shirt and tugging you towards him.Â
Youâre finding it easier and easier to simply give in to his whims. Your legs spread over his and you melt into his hold like you were made to fit against him. âShit, Doll,â he huffs against your parted lips, pupils blown wide as he stares up at you. His lips are a pretty pink, swollen, and glistening from your kisses. You almost want to bite them.Â
You hold back the urge, leaning back and giving him a small smile. Itâs enough to make his whole face light up. âYou know how badly I want to stay in bed with you today?â You almost invite him to, but the foggy cloud of an abrupt wake-up finally parts.Â
You remember the box from last night, what you need to do today. So, you pull back from him, his arms releasing you reluctantly. Itâs so peculiar, how his metal hand is warmer than the flesh one. âGoing to work?â
He hums, eyes narrowing in on you suspiciously. You reach for the coffee and take a sip, exactly how you like it. Itâs pathetic that your suspicion grows because you know your husband doesnât know how you take your coffee.Â
âIâll miss you,â you tell him, and itâs the first time you havenât had to force the words out to appease him. It almost feels genuine this time. He gives you a resigned smile, kissing your cheek and leaning back.Â
He pets Alpine, stroking down her smooth white fur and smiling at her too. âIâll see you both later,â he tells you, a promise. You bite your lip and nod. His footsteps echo down the stairs and you leap off the bed, the abrupt move scaring the life out of Alpine. She growls in discontent and stalks off. The door closes and you run to the window, watching the driveway to make sure heâs gone for sure.Â
You race into the hall, throwing the closet door open and dragging the dusty box out. Mildew and mold cling to it, but you donât have time to be concerned with germs. You need answers. You take it downstairs, toss it on the kitchen table, and forget all about your breakfast upstairs.Â
Itâs odd, how much cozier the house has become. Sunlight streams through the windows and warms your seats and couches. You no longer feel eyes in the shadows. A creak is just a creak. Itâs like your fear has just been snatched from you.Â
The thought is enough to unsettle you, but you ignore it for now. Youâll worry about that another day. You toss the lid of the file box inside and what greets you only further irritates you. Piles of unorganized papers and pictures, each of the more faded by time than the other.Â
You pluck out the first one you see and nearly gasp. Itâs James, but not James. A picture of a WWII soldier, in his uniform and posing in front of an army vehicle. He looks just like your husband, but his eyes crinkle a little more when he smiles, his happiness palpable through the picture. Heâs even got a prosthetic arm.Â
You flip the picture over, James âBuckyâ Barnes, is written out in pretty cursive. Directly under it is 1942. You drop the picture, taking a few steps back and shaking your head. âNo, no, nope,â you shake your head, simply ignoring the truth that lay in front of you.Â
Somewhere out there, thereâs an alternative version of your husband who was a WWII veteran and apparently lived in this house. Same fucking name and everything. âOh, fuck me, this is insane.â You glare at the box, not wanting to believe anything youâre seeing.Â
How could your life have devolved into this shitfest, just because you moved into one fucking house? How could one crappy ad in the newspaper have completely turned your life upside down and thrown you into the twilight zone?
You throw yourself into a chair, slumping over the wooden table and taking in grounding breaths. You wanted the truth, youâre going to get it. Even if none of it makes any sense. The next few pictures you grab are all in the same sepia tint. One of him standing in front of the garden, another before a truck, even one in the goddamn armchair currently sitting in your living room. And in each one, he looks as happy as can be. But thereâs something nearly artificial in his smile.Â
You look at the pictures on your mantle and frown. You canât exactly judge him. Youâve got the same smile in all your pictures too. Just slightly off, something about it slightly forced for the sake of the person beside you.
You find one of him with a very unhappy-looking woman. Sheâs pretty, even if she does look a little wicked, and she also looks remarkably like you. What bizzaro world is this? Sheâs nearly identical to you, but she looks goddamn miserable. A hulking blond man has his arm slung around Bucky, fingers just barely grazing the womanâs shoulder.Â
You flip it over and find, Bette, Bucky & Steve at the new house, 1950. Bette, the woman who sold you the house. Who told you what nursing home her kids were sticking her in. You leap up from the table, running to grab your coat and racing out of the house.Â
Bucky glances down at James' phone and grins. He pulls the car into the apartment complex and picks up the call, âHello?â
âWhere are you?â The woman on the other end demands sharply.Â
Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and fighting back the spirit surging within him. His left hand twitches without his permission and his eyes narrow in frustration. James was easy enough to subdue last night. He was caught off guard, terrified.Â
Now, heâs pissed off and fighting. Bucky doesnât appreciate the efforts to take control. âI just pulled in. Iâll be up in a minute.â He shuts the phone off and jerks the rearview mirror to face him. The eyes that stare back at him are not his own.Â
âDonât you fucking touch her,â James demands, spitting the words out like he has any sort of power over Bucky.Â
Bucky grins, âWasnât planning on it.â
Jamesâ face falls and his eyes widen with worry. âWhat does that mean?â Bucky flips the mirror back in place, glancing up to the third-story apartment where Martha waits for him. He turns the engine off, slowly exits the car, and makes his way up the stairs.Â
Heâs sure to take his time, enjoying how James grows more and more terrified. It only feeds him, makes him stronger, and grants him more control over him. Heâs getting better at controlling him, finally had enough strength to fully take over last night.Â
Before, he only had the energy to take over the body for a few hours, at most. But the longer he held influence over James, the further his influence spread. Soon, he could leave the house, without having to use Jamesâ body as an anchor. Heâs evolved past anchors and the brick walls that once contained him. He only had one last loose end before he could be with you fully.Â
He knocked on the red door, waiting for Martha to answer. It didnât take long. She threw the door open, face screwed up with rage. âLook who came back. I told you that little bitch of yours wouldnât be good enough for you.â
Bucky kept the look on his face serene. He tried not to show the rage that raced through him at her grating tone. He wanted to rip her tongue out and choke her with it. He wished he could pluck out her eyeballs and serve them to her on a silver platter. A million different ways came to him as he stepped into her apartment.Â
âHello, Martha.â
âThanks for seeing me, Bette.â
Bette kept her hands in her lap, picking at the wrinkles of her skin. âItâs grown so thin,â she looked at you, seeing straight through you. âI used to be like you, so pretty, so young.â
Your face screws up in discomfort and you nod dismissively. âYou know why I want to talk.â
Bette sighs and clicks her tongue. âOh, Bucky,â she says his name forlornly, playing the perfect mourning lover. But you know better, she doesnât mean a damn bit of her grief.Â
âDrop it,â you snap, looking around to make sure no nurses are watching. The white sterile walls of the nursing home loom over you. Betteâs eyes snap towards you, the thin film of dementia disappears and she slumps into her chair.Â
âFine. Dammit, what the hell do you want? You already took my house.â
âYeah, and your damn ghost. I want some fucking answers, Bette.â
She chuckles, the noise bitter and her expression cruel. âYou know, you remind me a lot of Bucky. Got that same kicked puppy look to you that makes me want to smack you around.â Despite your best intentions of remaining passive, you feel your heart twinge in sympathy for Bucky.Â
Betteâs got the same bitter look in her eye that James used to. You donât see much of it anymore. Strange how much your life has changed in just over two weeks. âI thought heâd see you and finally move on. Heâd finally get his damn revenge on me, I mean you look just like me.â
You canât help but agree with her. You slip the picture out of your purse and put it on the table before you. âI saw,â you mutter, glancing down at the uncanny resemblance between you both. âI want to know what happened, Bette. I want to know why heâs stuck in my walls, why heâs stuck in my husband,â you add.
Her eyes widen and her jaw gapes. âHeâs got your husband?â You nod and youâre caught off guard when she begins to cackle. âGod, even dead heâs still the same pathetic, snivelling bastard he used to be.â
You canât help but get angry, you almost want to defend him. Sure, heâs tormented you, but clearly, he had a reason to be bitter about having to look at your face all the damn time. Youâd go crazy too if this was the bitch you were married to.Â
âBette,â you warn, voice low.Â
She huffs and snatches the picture. âNo harm in telling you, I suppose.â She gives you a wicked grin, âNo one will believe you anyway.â
âI met Bucky when I was young, too young. We got married because he was getting shipped off to war. He wanted someone to write letters to, to come home to, and I figured heâd die before I ever saw him again. I could cash in on widowâs benefits. Then the son of a bitch had to go and get honorably discharged for getting his arm blown off.â
Your brows furrow in disgust. Youâve never seen such an evil old woman before. You pray you donât turn into a wicked old hag like her when you get older. âSteve, his best friend, was discharged around the same time as him. Came to live with us for a while so he could get his life in order.â
Bette glares at you and tosses the picture back to you. You catch it before it slides off the table and she keeps going. âSee, some women werenât as loyal as I was. His lady moved on real fast, left him lonely and looking for a warm place to sleep at night. Bucky, well, he just wasnât a man. He obeyed me like a little bitch and took every hit I gave him because he thought he deserved it. Steve never did that, always put me in my place. He was a man,â she hisses out the word and you have the sudden urge to slap her.Â
âOne thing led to another, we were in love and Bucky was in the way. We got rid of him, what else do you want me to say?â
You canât even figure out where to begin. Sheâs fucking despicable. Not only did she not love him, he was utterly devoted to her and she fucked his best friend. Killed him to be with him. Despite this overload of information, only one question comes to you.Â
âWhere did you bury him?â
5 PM
You let out a loud grunt, sweat pouring down your back as you bring the sledgehammer into the brick wall. Thereâs a loud crack and you pause, taking a step back. A moment later a brick slips out of its place. It doesnât take much longer for the others to follow.Â
Thereâs a loud crash as it all comes tumbling down, decades of dust and debris float into the air. It drifts down your nose and creeps into your lungs. You drop the sledgehammer to the cement of the basement with a clatter. You kneel over, waving the dust away and trying to cough it out.Â
Something rolls against the floor, something hollow that clatters against your shoe. You glance down, stunned into silence as a gaping skull stares back up at you. You stumble away from it, nearly kicking it back, and trip right into the warm chest of your husband.Â
Bucky stares down at you, his face blank and devoid of anything you might be able to read. âYou talked to Bette?â
You nod mutely, taking a step back from him. You wince as your heel comes down on something that cracks under your weight. You try to look down, to see what bone youâve just broken, but he stops you. He grabs your chin, tilting your face towards him and forcing you to meet his eyes. âWhat are you going to do?â He demands, he tries to sound strong, but you can hear the fear that trembles under the cool tone.Â
Rest In Peace
Husband, Brother, Friend
James Buchanan Barnes
âItâs a bit morbid isnât it?â You peer up at him and shake your head.Â
âNo, he deserves a proper burial.â You place the flowers on top of the fresh grave and stand. You take a few steps back and Bucky pulls you into his chest. âYou, I mean. I just feel like your memory deserves its rightful resting place.â
He lets out a heavy sigh and you squeeze his hand. âYou think Steveâs in here somewhere?â
You scoff and feel yourself growing angry on his behalf. âHe deserves to rot under a bridge somewhere, along with that bitch.â
Bucky laughs pulling back from you and giving you a wide smile. Itâs genuine, the first genuine smile youâve seen on his face in a long time. âThank you,â he mutters. You shrug, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.Â
âIâm your wife, Iâm supposed to have your back.â You reach up, pushing a wave back behind his ear. Heâs finally let his hair grow out again. He complains it gets in his eyes when he tries to garden, but you love how it looks on him so he keeps it.Â
His face lights up, the same way it always does when you say youâre his wife. You interlace your fingers together, pulling him away from his grave and back towards the car. Youâre supposed to meet Mrs. Barnes soon, youâre having Thanksgiving dinner at your house tomorrow so the whole family can finally see it.Â
Since the discovery of Buckyâs bones and the literal skeleton in the house's closet, youâve kept family members away from you both for a while. It was a long adjustment period, getting used to the truth and each other. Accepting the fact that James was gone for good wasnât as hard a pill to swallow as it should have been. Â
You have a theory that you both were meant to be with each other, either in the forties or today. Something got messed up in the universeâs timeline and instead, you got James and he got Bette. This paranormal experience must have just been fateâs way of cleaning up what it had ruined so horribly.Â
You look up at Bucky, the way his eyes crinkle even when heâs not smiling, and feel something warm spreading through your chest. You don't mind the cold fingers and chilling touch at night when itâs him youâre sharing it with.Â
You place the turkey down in front of Bucky and he sends you a blissful smile. You canât help but lean over the back of his chair and plant a loud kiss on his cheek. Janey gags, tossing a roll at her older brother. âQuit it, would you, Iâd like to have an appetite.â
You chuckle, taking your seat beside him. Bucky canât help but want to cry. This is what heâs wanted for so long. His family back, the woman he loves to love him back. Itâs what he begged for. The loss of it all had turned him into this bitter, malevolent spirit.Â
As much as heâd like to say he regrets or feels guilt for what he did to Bette, Steve, Martha, and James, he canât. He tormented Steve until he died of a terror-induced heart attack at fifty. Heâd driven poor Bette into the nursing home where her children would let her rot for the rest of her miserable life. Martha wonât be heard from again.Â
And James, poor James. He must have had the worst fate of them all. Itâs been a while since heâs heard anything from James. He searches for him now, his tiny presence lingering somewhere in the back of his mind.Â
Bucky takes your hand, looks at his sisters and mother, and smiles at them. He raises his glass for a toast, slapping at James until heâs forced out of his slumber. Look, he thinks, speaking of all heâs grateful for to you and the other women. They know, he feels James looking through his eyes.Â
He sees the way his family smiles at Bucky, and how much happier they look with him. They know, he tells James, they know Iâm not you. James pounds futilely against Buckyâs walls. He screams and sobs, begging for you to help him.Â
They donât want you, James. They know that the world is better without you. He lets James linger in his misery, he savors his despair, lets it energize him, and then tosses him back to the abyss. James goes quietly, he gave up fighting a while ago.Â
It wouldnât matter anyway. His brief period of rebellion has fed Bucky enough to keep him subdued for the rest of his life. You squeeze his hand, âI love you,â you whisper, passing him the sweet potatoes.Â
He smiles back at you and repeats the same words heâs already said a hundred times to you. This is at it always should have been. Steve, Bette, and James were all stepping stones to get him to you. He wasnât going to let you go now.Â
end. â I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Marvel (Winter Soldier), but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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