#Nannies are not the same as mothers
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As long as women live in poverty and are vulnerable to exploitation there needs to be greater regulation in commercial surrogacy.
As we all know, pregnancy generally takes around nine months, plus recovery time. And humans aren’t great at having much more than one or two children at once. That really limits how many children one person or couple can have at a time.
Or at least it used to.
Assisted reproductive technology and gestational surrogacy have changed what’s possible for human reproduction. For those suffering medical or other obstacles, surrogacy can be a miracle solution to parenthood. Others, however, are pushing the limits on the possibilities provided by the new technology.
1,000 Children, Please
Japanese businessman Mitsutoki Shigeta made headlines in 2014 when Thai authorities discovered nine babies being cared for in a mostly unfurnished condo in Bangkok. The children were all genetically related to Shigeta, and born by surrogacy. Mariam Kukunashvili, a co-founder of the Thai fertility clinic that assisted Shigeta in finding surrogates, reported Shigeta to Thai authorities after Shigeta “revealed plans for more than 1,000 children.” Kukunashvili and Thai authorities were concerned that Shigeta may be involved in human trafficking.
Yet a Thai court later awarded Shigeta custody of all nine of his children, in addition to other children who were genetically related to him, and found elsewhere. After hearing evidence, the court also found no evidence of human trafficking. So, a happy ending?
Not quite.
Shigeta’s case was not the only one grabbing headlines as to the questionability of surrogacy. Another nightmare case around the same time. There, an Australian couple conceived twins via a Thai surrogate. After the twins’ birth, reports came out that the parents returned to Australia with only one of the twins, leaving behind the other twin, who had been diagnosed with Down syndrome. (Although it later came to light that the parents tried to leave with both babies and were unable to.)
In 2015, Thailand responded by banning non-Thai citizens from paying Thai women to act as surrogates, including the potential of a 10-year prison sentence for violators. The result was a complete shutdown of Thailand’s international surrogacy practices.
As frequently happens, when one country shuts down international surrogacy, another country sees a rise in business. In the past couple of decades, the Eastern European country of Georgia has seen surrogacy grow in popularity. But that looks like it may all end as well.
20 Kids In A Year
Shigeta isn’t the only one to look to surrogacy to have a high number of children in a short time. One couple in Georgia has received media coverage over their fast-growing family. With the help of surrogates, the couple, Kristina and Galip Ozturk, have had 21 children in just over a year. And they have plans for additional children. Like Shigeta, the Georgia couple have the financial means to afford surrogacy, as well as a large staff to care for their growing families.
Georgia Closes Its Doors
Last month, Georgia introduced a bill to shut down compensated surrogacy in that country and to specifically exclude all international intended parents. Prime Minister Irakli Garibashvili announced on June 12, 2023, that a bill was in progress to tightly regulate surrogacy in the country.
Unafraid of embracing homophobic rhetoric, Garibashvili specifically cited concerns that same-sex couples may be having children in Georgia, and taking them home. But others noted, as though it were a good thing, that there was already a process in place in Georgia preventing same-sex couples from accessing surrogacy services.
The new law in Georgia is expected to pass this fall. It prohibits women in Georgia from being compensated for surrogacy, limiting the practice only to “altruistic” surrogacy arrangements. It also prohibits Georgian women from carrying pregnancies for foreign couples starting in 2024.
That’s bad news for couples like the Ozturks, who are unlikely to be as successful at finding willing surrogates if they are not permitted to pay them. Though at 21 kids, they can hopefully declare victory and be finished. The real issue is that the new Georgia law is bad news for international hopeful parents, who may be unable to afford the price tag in the United States for surrogacy.
US Guidelines
The United States has not turned a blind eye to the issue. In 2022, the American Society for Reproductive Medicine (ASRM) issued “Recommendations for practices using gestational carriers: a committee opinion.” Among the list of criteria for rejection of intended parents is an “inability to maintain respectful and caring relationship with a gestational carrier,” ”ongoing legal disputes,” and — on point here — “Intended parents’ reproductive plan is to pursue concurrent pregnancies by embryo transfers to more than one gestational carrier or seeking concurrent pregnancies for a gestational carrier and intended parent.”
Most fertility clinics in the United States are members of ASRM and committed to following ASRM guidelines and recommendations. So while it is not technically illegal to pursue multiple surrogacy pregnancies at once in the United States, it may now be difficult to find the medical providers to support the plan.
When intended parents take family-building to an extreme, the temptation can be to cast doubt on the appropriateness of surrogacy generally. But that is a misguided reflexive reaction. Regulation can solve the problem of those trying to build an army of children. But for those with limited options who turn to surrogacy for the hopes of a child, eliminating surrogacy means eliminating one of the most viable options to family formation.
So let’s hope that stories likes the Ozturks’ and Shegeta’s don’t ruin it for others.
Ellen Trachman is the Managing Attorney of Trachman Law Center, LLC, a Denver-based law firm specializing in assisted reproductive technology law, and co-host of the podcast I Want To Put A Baby In You. You can reach her at [email protected].
#anti surrogacy sunday#babies are not commodities#Mitsutoki Shigeta#A guy has custody of over nine children he had by surrogates in smother country?#Men creating children who have no recognized mother#How happy are the kids being created by the dozen?#Nannies are not the same as mothers
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Not quite Yandere yet but here is a snippet of the Yandere single dad short story. And a kindergartener obsessed with you being his mom
Yandere Short Stories: Mommy (Prequel)
Eventual Yandere Single Father x Teacher Afab Reader
A pale hand shakily held the drawing his son, Jesse, made in horror. Who on earth could the smiling woman beside little Jesse be? Had another snake tried ti sink their fangs into the Isbert family once more?
Liam Isbert was the heir to the Isbert family. A man of extreme power and wealth who many women (and men) tried to woo. Only one had successfully baby trapped him which resulted in Jesse’s birth.
“Who is this woman?” Liam glared at the elderly nanny who frowned at Liam’s anger. “What kind of wench had been filling my child’s head with lies? She is not his mommy.”
“I assure you Miss (last name) is just his teacher. Your son is extremely attached to her.” The nanny told Liam which only made him angrier.
Impossible. She had to be after their family’s money and that’s why she sunk her fangs into a child. How cowardly!
“Notify the school that I wish to have a private meeting with his teacher.” Liam told the nanny as he ran a hand through his dark, wavy locks. Liam was so frustrated with these gold diggers. They were all the same…
He might have to homeschool Jesse now…
.
.
.
Liam sat in the back of his limousine as he watched Jesse excitedly run into the kindergarten. Liam has never seen his son so excited for anything in his life.
The brunette took a long drag from his cigar when he saw a beautiful young woman head towards Jesse. A smile as warm as a ray of sunshine on her face when she saw Liam’s son.
The little boy hurdled his small body into his pretty teacher. Jesse’s arms wrapped around her legs, while his blue eyes stared up at her with so much love it made Liam want to puke. How on earth did this woman charm his antisocial son?
Liam reeled down the window and was about to scream at her when he heard her laugh.
“Goodness, Jesse. It’s only been a day. Are you that excited to learn?” (Your name) smiled down at the dark haired boy who nodded his head.
“I just wanted to be with mom-“
“Jesse, it’s Miss (last name).” (Your name) ruffled Jesse’s dark brown hair which made the little boy pout. “I’m your teacher.”
“Why can’t you be my mommy? You’re so nice to me…”
(Your name) laughed as she bent down to pick Jesse up. “Because I would have to date your dad and I don’t really have any interest in men.”
Jesse thought for a minute and then he scrunched his face. “Daddy is kind of mean and he’s smelly.”
“You’re not supposed to say your daddy is mean or smelly!” (Your name) loudly giggled as she carried Jesse into her class.
Liam sat frozen in his limousine in shock. She didn’t want to date him? And… what did Jesse mean by him being mean and smelly?
“Sir, your meeting with the teacher will be at three in the afternoon. Do you want me to take you to the office.”
Liam shook his head and reeled up the limo’s window. “Yes. That would be nice, Allen.”
For the first time in many years, Liam felt his heart flutter.
.
.
.
“You must be Jesse’s dad. It’s nice to finally meet you.” (Your name) warmly smiled at Liam who remained silent. Liam couldn’t hear a word she said due to how loud his heart beat in his ear drums. His beating muscle would bring a snare drum to shame.
“Mister Isbert?” Liam was brought back down to reality when his teacher addressed him. His green eyes focused on her concerned expression. “About your reason no for a meeting… Jesse seems to be quite attached to me due to his lack of a mother. I try to correct him but he seems adamant about it. I am so sorry to inconvenience you-“
“What is your motive?” Liam narrowed his eyes at the young woman who seemed shocked. Motive? Whatever did he mean?
“What do you mean-“
“How much money do you want? I’m willing to pay you if you leave my son alone-“ Liam was shocked when (your name) slammed her hands on her desk when she stood up.
“How dare you… I’m sorry that other people have wanted such things from you but I do not. I care about Jesse. He desperately wants a parent that loves him and he’s not getting that from anyone in his house.” (Your name) scoffed at Liam’s shell shocked expression. The young woman shook her head. “This is extremely unprofessional of me, but you never spend any time with your son so I’m not surprised you don’t notice his concerning behavior of wanting to be loved.”
Liam gasped when she slapped a file in front of him that was full of letters from Jesse. Dozens of notes asking her to adopt him. Why did his son want this woman so badly?
“Be a better parent before you point fingers. Now get out of my classroom.”
Liam felt his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. She didn’t want his money… she just wanted Jesse to be cared for…
Liam was shocked to see Jesse outside the door. Jesse’s little hands clutched his lunch pail so tightly, his knuckles were white.
“Jesse-“ Jesse shoved past Liam to stand beside his teacher.
“Mommy, I want to eat lunch together! Can you cut the crust off my sandwich? I don’t like the crust.”
(Your name) smiled down at Jesse and took the lunchbox from him.
“It’s Miss (last name), Jesse… but of course I can take off the crust.”
And that’s when Liam noticed the pink blush on Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse loved his teacher… and who was he to separate them?
Liam shoved his hands in his suit jacket pockets and left the school in a hurry. His fingers itched for a cigar to try to calm down the rush of emotions he felt.
Perhaps he’d apologize to Miss (last name)? He wondered if she liked roses?
Liam blushed at the thought of her accepting roses from him. She’d be so pretty in red…
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere obsession#yandere dilf#yandere father#yandere boy#yandere males#Yandere male#yandere x darling#yandere x willing reader#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere platonic#platonic yandere#yandere oc#yandere original character#older yandere#tw.age gap#slow burn#teacher reader
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featuring: ghoap x nanny! f!reader. parenthood. adoption processes. fluff. slice of life. reader is given an age range
hear me out: simon and johnny transferring to reserve duty – i.e., serving the military on a part-time basis rather than being on active call – once they make the decision to become dads. it comes after a long period of deliberation (and healing on simon's part), but after they're absolutely sure that they want to start this next phase of life together, they call price to get it sorted.
who is thrilled for them, naturally, but warns that they still have a specialised commitment to the task force. if he needs them, then they best make sure they're there. the world isn't a better place yet, and no one can do what the pair does.
fine by them.
so it begins. instead of the complex and ethical choices that come with surrogacy, they opt for adoption and work with an attorney to facilitate the logistics. months of searching come up with a young mother, whose unwanted pregnancy has interfered with her life thus far, and is unwilling to make the further sacrifice that comes with keeping the baby. they must be more understanding, or otherwise less overbearing, than the other candidates – because two months later, they're in a hospital waiting room, anxiously lingering to meet the new addition to their family.
isla riley-mactavish. named after the river where johnny realised he'd be much happier with his lieutenant by his side.
the first few months are bliss. exhausting bliss, but a type of contentment that neither man has known since they first confessed to one another. isla's fussy through nights but they take turns settling her down, and if they have military duties to attend to then it's usually never at the same time. she's spoiled rotten – not just by them, but by the captain and gaz as well, who visit more often than not with bags full of toys they have nowhere to put. a little princess in the eyes of everyone who knows her.
by month five, she's teething and can hold her head up unsupported. simon reads somewhere that it's one of the most pivotal points in her development.
of course the call has to come then.
in the middle of the night, no less, and loud enough to wake her up from her crib. johnny scrambles to calm the bairn down as simon answers, price's grave voice crackling in from the other end. expected to be a long haul. a month at least. state security's at serious risk here, simon. i wouldn't ask you to come out otherwise.
and they made a promise. no matter how much it aches them to leave their darling girl behind.
rdv on base in a week.
he knows that one week is a matter of grace. he can feel the captain itching to hatch the operation as soon as possible, but has staved off to give the boys time to order their affairs. that doesn't mean simon's happy with the timeline, though. seven days is not nearly enough to find a sitter they can trust, especially given their own hindrances.
regardless, they send a job posting for a live-in, 24/7 nanny to close friends – no way in hell are they advertising it to the open internet – and hours later, johnny's sister lets them know of a girl who substitutes at the same primary school she works at. a real darling, apparently. honest 'n' stowed oot of energy, th' weans love her, and she haes experience with bairns too!
promising, but word of mouth isn't enough. they get a name and ask laswell to run a thorough background check. to their relief, it comes out squeaky clean. no arrests, no dui's, no shady travel history. modest socials with only a handful of followers. it's in line with what they know so far, solid enough to encourage them to reach out. so they do: just a brief email, asking what time and place would be best for a face-to-face interview.
they bring isla with them to the agreed meeting spot. a cozy cafe nestled in one of the safest parts of town. it's an early saturday morning and they're scheduled to leave in three days. so far, they've put all their eggs in this basket. johnny has to hold onto simon's hand when he notices the nerves dancing behind his partners usually void eyes. but if he were being honest with himself, he's just as scared.
they notice you as soon as they walk in.
sitting at a table for four, mug of coffee steaming as you bend over a well-loved book. despite your preoccupation, you're observant – they inch in your periphery and your head snaps up, a brilliant smile parting your lips as you spring up onto your feet. simon tallies a point on the ledger in his head. good. alert is good.
as is true for them, it's abundantly clear that you're who they're supposed to meet. johnny can't imagine anyone but a children's educator dressing like that: a gingham babydoll dress over a pair of blue tights, which carries over to the bow in your hair and is juxtaposed by the white oxford lace-ups on your feet. he startles when you extend your hand to shake his and he finds a painted fruit on each of your short nails. positively adorable. and so unlike anything they know.
simon shuffles next to him. isla reaches out from her bugaboo stroller, the colours having caught her eye.
"well hello there! aren't you just the cutest angel i've ever seen? do you like my dress?"
that's another point for immediately engaging with the object of your soon-to-be care. simon watches as you pull out a rattle from your purse, handing it over to the cooing baby. warmth blossoms in his chest, and his apprehension fizzles out in the heat. they hadn't told you they'd be bringing isla – opting to catch you off guard and seeing how you'd deal – so he assumes you carry the toy around for emergency purposes, like anyone else of their ilk would carry a gun.
something about that quirk just screams safe.
"it is a nice dress." johnny pursues, voice smooth in that way it gets when he's flirting but doesn't want it made clear. it took weeks for ghost to attune himself to it – he always just thought the scot spoke like that – but now that he's able to hear it for what it is, he shoots him a cautionary look. not so much mad as he is cautious. wouldn't want to scare her off.
"oh! thank you very much. it's my grandmother's design." you straighten up once isla gains a proper grip on the rattle, patting the skirt like you're basking in the praise. "shall we sit? i assume you have a lot to discuss, and i promise you'll want to try the maple scones they make here."
"please. after you." simon nods.
an hour later, you're giggling into your palm as johnny deviates into a story of the time they took isla to the hospital because they didn't know the soft spot on her head could pulse. simon is quiet in contrast, though not displeased. rather, he's focused on keeping the tally of all the green flags you've exhibited thus far. he doesn't mind that the conversation hasn't followed a typical interview format. in fact, people are more likely to show their true nature when in relaxed settings such as this, which is perhaps why johnny hasn't stuck to the script of questions they'd prepared beforehand. the man is better at social manoeuvring than simon is, anyway. he trusts him to direct this where it needs to go.
"it can be freaky! especially if you've never been around a child that young. i had a similar reaction the first time i babysat my neighbour's infant at sixteen. did you know that they can break out like teenagers? i noticed the poor thing's skin erupt in acne at just a month old and called his parent's crying." you wheeze, wiping the tears along your lashline.
"have ye worked wi' many bairns?"
"oh, yeah. it's been my primary source of income since secondary, all the way through uni. i just finished a master's degree in early childhood education, actually! and i wrote a list of referrals you can call if you need to double check on any of that." you rummage through your purse and pull out an apple-shaped sticky note. "do you mind if i ask what you do? people don't usually look for a full-time nanny unless they're really busy. not that i'm judging! i would ne–"
"military." simon interrupts, ensuring his tone is gentle enough to reassure.
"that makes sense! i mean, for an indefinite amount of time, the pay you're offering is more than perfect. above industry standard, really." you pause, brows furrowing like you're doubting whether you should have said that. "ah– whatever. anyway. isla is wonderful, just the sweetest. and the provided accommodation is an added plus. if you guys have no other qualms, then i'd love to accept the position."
"does i' bother you that there are cameras on the property? porch, kitchen, and living room. jus' for security's sake." simon tests, though he knows he doesn't need to, for extra measure. to someone with bad intentions, CCTV is a massive dealbreaker.
you don't hesitate before answering. "makes total sense! you guys are well within your right to check in at any time."
and they don't have to consult each other to know. johnny is practically buzzing in his seat, muscles flexed with enthusiasm as his gaze flits all over you. lingering on your chest in particular, before he looks over to simon and smiles in an offensively handsome way. simon can't help but smile back, crinkling his eyes more than necessary so the both of you can tell what's going on behind his mask.
it feels a little too good to be true, hopeful in a way that sets off the alarm bells in his head. he's stable enough to recognise that it isn't your fault, though. stable enough not to pin his distrust on you. this is likely the best shot they've got at ensuring their daughter's safety while they're away, and it's come in the form of a vivid, bright little blessing.
(with great tits.)
he'd be a fool to sabotage it.
johnny beats him to the cause. "ye'r hired."
[ next ]
#fashion wise im pulling from 'new girl' jess and 'me before you' louisa iykyk#as always my shit ends up way too long#fic ༄ miss magic#ghoap x reader#simon ghost riley x reader x johnny soap mactavish#simon ghost riley x johnny soap mactavish#ghoap#simon riley#john mactavish#ghost#soap#x female reader#x reader
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╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ vii
part six - part eight
➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.
➪ life goes on and it's up to you to decide who stays and who goes.
➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ reader really growing and living her best life like she should. Spelling mistakes add character 😉 if you haven't been tagged, know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add you to my list, I'm not ignoring you, please send me a message if i did!
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y/nusername
📍 Nice, France
liked by landonorris, milliexoxo and 2548,543 others
y/nusername life. 🐠
tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo
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charlesgirlies can you tell zoë to stop growing so fast? 🥺
yukisan who's the other girl?
↳ bott_ass their nanny
yukisan since when?
bott_ass girl how should I know? 😭
norry4 cutest little kid on the block 😍
milliexoxo ❤️
mrsnorris once again lando hanging out with them..
↳ norrizz okay and?
mrsnorris what about Charles? How would your bf react if you hang out with anorhers guy all the time?
norrizz pretty sure they broke up
mrsnorris sure because you know them personally right?
norrizz no girl because in one if her vlogs she's moving, she now lives in Nice without Charles or is that something couples do nowadays??
chilisainz so what if her and lando hang out, they're good friends! You should follow y/n a bit more before you judge them..zoë adores lando and the other way around. They're good friends
hamilt44n can't wait for bahrain in two weeks, hope I get a chance to meet you!
yourmumsuser my beautiful grand baby 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️
landonorris we did in fact find nemo 🐠
↳ y/nusername and now we've lost dory :(
milliexoxo we'll have to go to the aquariums again to look for her!
norrislandooo stop it why is this so cute?! 😭
charliecharlie who's millie?
norrislandooo their nanny
charliecharlie why she look so young?
norrislandooo idk lmao y'all Charles girlies so obsessed with y/n and all the people she's hanging out with
milliexoxo I'm 19 that's probably why I look so young, thanks 🤩
norrislandooo oh god, she's one of us 😭
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y/nusername
📍 bahrain
liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 555,465 others
y/nusername week 1. 🇧🇭
tagged: milliexoxo
yourmumsuser my pretty pretty grandbaby ❤️❤️❤️
norry4 y/n back on the tracks LFGOOOO
julieeeexo zoë is such a cute little thing 🥺
milliexoxo my cute little gurlfriend is stealing the show 😍
↳ landonorris just like her mum
norrizz lando norris get out of here, stop trying to flirt with the milfs for gods sake 😂
manon_roux ma petite princesse me manque :( (missing my little monkey)
bott_ass can't wait to see you and jenson judge Danica on love tv 😍
↳ hamilt44n honestly can't wait for y/n to shut Danica up
charliecharlie I don't think jenson would've survived another season without y/n 💀
charles_leclerc ma jolie princesse ❤️ (my pretty princess)
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
📍 Saudi Arabia
liked by milliexoxo, landonorris and 478,745 others
y/nusername week 2. 🇸🇦
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milliexoxo okaaaasy mom 😍
↳ y/nusername 😐
charlesgirlies millie >>>>> noelle
bott_ass millie >>>> manon
charlesgirlies millie is queen <3
milliexoxo stop it, the fame will get to my head 😇
hamilt44n is zoë always so happy? 😭
norrizz okay girl, I see the subtle hints 👀
↳ norry4 the nails 😭
charles16 they're orange not mclaren colors..
norry4 same thing to me 😭
charles16 y'all reaching too much, she's still with charles
norry4 it's alright bestie, I've been living in delulu land too, I'll help you through it
yukisan I love you mother, I hope you know that 🥰
landonorris amazing photographer, could you tag him?
↳ y/nusername @.lando.jpg
landonorris nice, great guy that is
landonorizz YOU'RE TELLING ME LANDO TOOK THAT SEXY ASS PICTURE?!
luhamilton I bet they make sex tapes 👀
landonorrizz only fans when??? 👀
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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew
#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lando norris x you#charles leclerc x you#lando norris#charles leclerc#lando norris fanfic#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 x reader#lando x reader#charles x reader
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Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.
Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.
Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.
“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”
“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”
Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.
“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”
“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”
The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”
Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.
When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.
Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.
He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.
He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.
“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…
His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.
Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.
Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.
His new goal?
Find Cassandra Cain.
#Tim drake#Timothy drake#Batman#red Robin#time traveling tim drake#time travel fix it#scheming tim drake#Tim drake vs truancy officer#listen I went to a private school#they legit called me ‘young’ in an email to my mother#Tim drake vs the education system#Tim Drake and his mortal enemy: school#tim: I will never finish high school
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The Foster Mother
Now on ao3 and VHS release
There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.
“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.
“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”
…Alright.
Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.
Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.
And then Tim walked into the room.
And then Jazzy was there.
*
Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.
She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.
She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.
Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.
(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)
Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.
The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.
She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.
Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.
She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.
Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.
She looked up when he came in.
Tim. Stopped in his tracks.
It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.
“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.
She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!
“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“
“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.
Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.
(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)
She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.
He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.
“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”
Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.
“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”
Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”
Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?
“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”
Which. Whiplash. What a statement.
“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.
Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”
“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”
“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”
Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.
Jazzy waited patiently.
“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.
Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”
It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—
—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.
She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.
“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.
He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.
Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.
It was for the best.
“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”
…Tim’s heart skipped.
He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…
Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?
And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!
“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”
She handed him the backpack by the handle.
…Tim peeked inside.
On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.
And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.
Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.
Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.
It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.
Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.
Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.
“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“
“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.
“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”
Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.
“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!
“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”
Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.
And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.
Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.
He swallowed.
Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.
#dp x dc#Jazz fenton#tim drake#that one time Tim specifically hired a fake uncle so that Bruce couldn't adopt him#free to a good home#Jack Fenton knits btw#I'm not going to continue this but i thought it was a cool premise and needed its time. Have fun with it if you want to!#this is dedicated to all the fulltime nannies at the library who are fully just college girls raising babies#dpxdc#dcxdp#Jazz said is anyone going to raise this baby and was targeted by ninjas for it#I don't have any future plans BUT there is a moment where Dick tries to sneak into her apt to 'check it out' and she fully Gets Him with a#TBI and a Fenton CreepStickTM#also. parents who try to shape their kids by denying them every form of human comfort and access to their interests. You're dead to me#also also also I'm still a Tim Drake Autistic truther#not NOT inspired by the Say Uncle by Megarakles. This one's for you fellow fans#also. if he goes with her. He gets parented for the first time ever and it Sucks Ass lol.#faer fic
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YOU'RE MY PROBLEM — l.heeseung
PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader GENRES: angst, fluff, humor, suggestive WC: 11.6k+
WARNINGS: swearing, arguing, cheating, divorce, mention of drinking. slightly smut in that there is a section (albeit brief) describing almost – very almost – sex.
NOTES: idk what's going on, but heeseung's been on my mind a lot these days. 2nd plot in less than two weeks and he's the owner of everything! at first this was going to have a smut, but i felt it would be too long and idk if it turned out that well, so maybe it could happen in a second part that isn't even final. but that's it for now, i hope you like it!
masterlist
"What's your problem?" that intonation was already typical when directed at you, but it still never failed to send a chill down your spine.
Sighing, you got up from the living room floor and smiled at the little boy in front of you, trying not to focus your gaze on the man next to the sofa.
"Can't you do your job properly for once?" he said to you again as he followed you into the downstairs bathroom, and you tried to ignore him as much as possible to put the first aid kit away in the drawer and leave the room. But he blocked the door.
"Can you come out, please? I want to go through" you asked, looking at him for the first time.
"I asked you what your fucking problem is" he leaned over and gritted his teeth, now he could cuss since he wasn't next to his younger brother.
"And I asked you to leave" you leaned in too, almost touching the tip of your nose to his chin because of the height difference. This caught the man completely off guard and he took a few steps back, clearing the way for you to leave the bathroom and walk into the living room.
It wasn't a horrible accident, you weren't a terrible babysitter for nine-year-old Hajun. But his older brother, Heeseung, had been a pain in the ass ever since you first set foot in the Lee house.
And it wasn't as if you'd done anything because Mrs. Lee always praised your work highly and you even did a few extra periods just to play with Hajun or stay with him when there were family problems. These, more often than not, were your suspicions as to why the Lee family had hired a nanny for their youngest, and also why Heeseung seemed so down on life. Especially with you.
It was typical for him to make some sarcastic comment, and roll his eyes when you excitedly answered something his mother had asked. Or even mutter a swear word when Hajun chooses to go out with you instead of his own brother. Jealous? Or that intensified the anger Heeseung felt even more, you just didn't want it to be directed completely at you. In your mind, Heeseung was already like that because of something that happened in the family – and you'd always been curious to ask, you just didn't have the courage – so, because you were the only person who was easy to get along with apart from his mother and younger brother, the boy only had you to put it all out there.
You weren't such a bad listener, you could call Heeseung to sit down after your babysitting shift and tell him everything that was bothering you. Why he was so angry and, most importantly, why did he seem to hate you? Your memory tried to capture a moment when you could have given him a curt reply, a grimace or simply been rude, but no.
As soon as you arrived and introduced yourself as Hajun's new nanny, Heeseung just rolled his eyes and left the room.
"Don't worry about him, Y/n" Mrs. Lee smiled lovingly at you "Heeseung is going through a difficult process, I think he'll get better soon. He's sweet."
You hoped he would be. And you waited for months to see that Heeseung was still the same... Maybe his process would take forever and you would have been chosen to be his punching bag.
But one day it would get tiresome. Surely you knew that you would respond in full, even if you were afraid of losing your job because he might be able to get his mother's head around firing you.
Back in the living room, you smiled at Hajun when you saw the little boy smile at you too. Your gaze completely ignored Heeseung sitting in the armchair next to his brother.
"Come on Y/n, I was telling Seungie how I fell in the park earlier" the little boy had no idea what had happened minutes ago between you and Heeseung, and you preferred it that way. Your priority was always to protect Hajun and be with him.
You sat down next to him, feeling Hajun's small hands wrap around yours.
"So I went to play ball with some boys, but Y/n told me not to go barefoot because it could be dangerous for me" Hajun formed a pout on his lips as he looked away from Heeseung to his bruised knee, now completely clean and bandaged "And I didn't listen" Hajun looked at you now, showing his newly grown teeth "Do you forgive me, Y/n?"
"Oh, of course" you hugged him as he laid his head on your shoulder.
Heeseung huffed from the other side of the sofa, running his hand through his hair impatiently.
"Anyway, do your job properly next time" he got up and left the room, leaving you with Hajun as he climbed the stairs with his feet tapping.
You felt the younger man move beside you, looking into your eyes while still smiling. Hajun was an amazing child and you felt your heart sink every time you thought that, if it wasn't for you, he might be alone in this house.
Not completely alone, Heeseung worked in his room a few days a week and Hajun could ask his brother for help with anything, as he was extremely protective of the youngest. But if it wasn't for you, the little one wouldn't do his homework. He couldn't go out to the park in the next block, let alone go to the movies in the late afternoon because he was too bored to do anything indoors.
Thanks to you, Hajun had company every day. And that was the thought you had when Mrs. Lee hired you to keep him company.
"Ignore him" Hajun's voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to the reality you were in at that very moment. The little boy was already standing in the middle of the room "Heeseung is a pain in the ass when he wants to be."
"Hey, watch your mouth, young man" you laughed when he grimaced.
"Seriously, after—" Hajun sighed, looking at you "Never mind."
"You know you can tell me whenever you want, right?" you stood up too, walking over to him to ruffle the younger man's dark hair.
Hajun nodded, smiling at you and asking you to make him a brownie. Because he deserved it and he was hurting. This made you laugh because, although the mood changed drastically in that house, you knew that he always tried to take everything in good humor.
Hajun's slip in the previous few minutes only made you even more certain that something was going on, and your heart squeezed to see that he was aware of the problems within his own house even at his young age. So, more than ever, your determination to take care of him spoke louder. Because Hajun was your priority in that house. And that would always be the case.
With your head in your hands, you felt like screaming as you stared at the computer in front of you. Life as a university student was complete shit, even more so when you were forced to start a project and didn't even know where to begin.
Your two best friends were sitting right in front of you with their projects very well developed, but it was as if only your head was short-circuiting because nothing was good enough.
"You're going to tear your hair out soon" Jake leaned over the table to pull one of your hands away from your face, taking his attention away from his project.
"Can I rip my head off?" you almost cried as you looked at him, both of you looking away to Ryunjin sitting next to you.
"Why are you like this?" she asked.
"Is it because of the project?" Jake was already sitting properly in his seat, his eyes still on you and Ryunjin too. You nodded in agreement, swallowing dryly when the girl sighed.
"Or is it for someone else?" Ryunjin emphasized the question when she looked at you.
The table was now a little chaotic with Ryunjin peeking out with a smile on her lips, you trying to wiggle out of it and Jake looking between the two friends like a lost puppy.
"What the fuck is going on? Because I think I've lost something" the boy finally said.
"Heeseung, again" Ryunjin answered for you "He's still being an asshole to Y/n. Hasn't your little friend said anything worthwhile to let us know what happened?"
Jake opened and closed his mouth to answer but to no avail. He was a friend of Heeseung's, fortunately, or unfortunately, the boy went to the same university as you. Being Jake's friend, he once let slip that his mother was looking for someone to look after Hajun. And since you needed money... you could just combine the useful with the pleasant.
But your friend seemed to be as lost as you were, or at least he pretended very well. As one of Heeseung's best friends, it would be difficult for him to tell you if something was going on that could involve you. But he was also your best friend. This standoff with Jake could leave you confused and feeling bad on both sides, which is why you never pressured him to tell you anything.
"He's just having some problems" Jake tried to be vague on the subject.
"He's the problem, Jake" you closed your computer, giving up on working on a project you knew would come to nothing. Your head was full – unfortunately of annoyance about Heeseung – and nothing could make you concentrate on the moment "He was really rude to me last time, you know?"
He knew.
He listened to Heeseung swear for ten minutes about how you could let Hajun get hurt. Then he let his friend cool off and tried to argue that it wasn't your fault. Heeseung understood and even pondered whether he had been too hard on you.
"I... No, what did he do?" Jake nibbled his lower lip to suppress a sigh as he began to listen to everything he had to say.
From his perspective it wasn't your fault, Heeseung was too hard on you and anything you did. Sometimes Jake felt like telling you everything, telling you how many times he'd lost count by cursing Heeseung for his behavior. Or wanting to punch him just because his friend took out his frustrations on the wrong things.
"You need to talk to him to stop being like that with Y/n" Ryunjin caught Jake's eye, making him look at her "Or I'll shove some architectural material up his ass. Name one."
"A piece of concrete?" Jake frowned. He had no idea which materials were architectural, Heeseung did that course, not him. Jake was a computer scientist, just like Ryunjin.
She smiled with satisfaction at the answer and then looked at you.
"Now don't think about him and focus on your project, my love" Ryunjin reached out to touch your hand gently "I bet your designers are going to be amazing."
"We can't wait to see it" Jake also celebrated, taking your other hand and running his thumb over the back of it in affectionate contact.
Even with all the stuff going on in your life, the daily stress of dealing with the older brother of the little boy you were looking after, being in the presence of your friends seemed to cure everything and then some. Even though Jake was Heeseung's friend, that didn't change the way your friend treated you or how much he wanted to see you well.
Ever since these disagreements between you and Heeseung started happening, Jake made it clear to both parties that he didn't want to be a part of it. Ryunjin even complained once that she would be part of it and still defend you, but no one listened – thankfully.
After some time exchanging glances with your friends and smiling, you decided to focus on your project because, even if time was in your favor and the deadline was a month away, being prepared and ahead of schedule was your motto.
Taking advantage of a few vacant classes at college was perfect for going to a remote table on campus and working on whatever it was. These get-togethers with your friends were what got you out of stressful and bad times, even if you saw them on some weekends or in some classes. Just sitting there, chatting away regardless of the subject, made you feel a little better.
"Jake, dude, I finally found you" the voice took you away from your more peaceful thoughts and gratitude for your friends to focus forward. The boy whose name had been called stared after you with soft eyes, but as soon as he noticed your gaze on him, Jake's eyes widened slightly "Are you studying?"
Heeseung's voice was unmistakable to you. And at that moment you wanted to dig a hole and hide, or run out of there just so you wouldn't have the pleasure of bumping into the boy at his study table.
"Tidying up projects" Jake hissed, squeezing Ryunjin's leg under the table when he felt his friend move in her place. Her gaze was locked on Heeseung so angrily, yet the boy didn't notice, too distressed to find Jake.
"Can I join you here?" he asked "I need to finish some university homework and then we need to meet Jay for a game of basketball."
"Sure" Jake gave a small smile and beckoned Heeseung to sit down.
No. Not. Jake and Ryunjin were sitting next to each other, so the only vacant seat was right next to you.
Heeseung sat down without looking in their direction. He smiled at Ryunjin as a silent greeting, but she took it in her stride and ended up nodding at him politely after looking at you at the same moment Heeseung did.
The boy's eyes could come out of their orbs if it were possible, the way he opened them. Fidgeting uncomfortably on the bench next to you, he was in a bit of shock, even looking a little vulnerable given the circumstances that Heeseung always looked fierce when he was around you at his house.
"Y/n?" he asked, afraid that you were real.
"Hey" you said quietly.
He didn't know what to say, how could he forget that Jake was always with you on campus if you weren't with him? Why didn't Heeseung check out the people at that table before he sat down?
There were so many questions circling his mind that, as the boy saw you ignore him to open the computer and focus on your study, maybe he should do the same.
Focusing on his university homework while he waited for Jake to finish his project and then meet his other friends was what he had to do. All Heeseung had to do was answer a few questions that the teacher had given him in class and hope that his friend would finish as quickly as possible.
"Heeseung" Ryunjin called out after a while, her gaze flicking between him and you. You both looked very uncomfortable next to each other and it was so clear. Even more so after he arrived and didn't greet you properly, it wouldn't go unnoticed by your best friend.
"Hey, Ryunjin" he tried to smile amiably, almost feeling a shiver run down his spine when she leaned over the table, resting her elbows on the stone. She smiled strangely; he had seen it before when the girl was sarcastic or about to fight with someone. Was she going to fight with him?
"Is there concrete in your course building?" she asked.
Heeseung frowned in complete confusion. That question had no basis in fact, but at least she wasn't angry with him, so he could relax a little and not feel any more chills as the girl still stared at him.
"We have several, will you need them?"
"Yes" she said.
"Sure, but what for?" when Heeseung asked and Ryunjin was about to answer, you quickly closed your computer. Praying that everything was intact even with the small bang.
This startled the three at the table – even you – so you got up and grabbed your backpack.
"I remembered that I need to go with Ryunjin to the library, now" your emphasis was a complete answer to the fact that your friend would have to follow you. Jake was grateful that she obeyed, even if it was against her will, putting her things away as she picked up the backpack to leave.
"Why did she want concrete?" Heeseung looked at Jake after you and Ryunjin left, laughing quietly and focusing on the questions he needed to answer, missing his friend's gaze, which was a little shocked.
"I have no idea" Jake lied.
Or omitted, exactly. Heeseung didn't need to know the intentions of the girl who had ranted at him minutes before he arrived at the table.
Of all the things Heeseung wanted to put out of his mind, one was to know exactly where to find the person who had hurt him the most. Who broke up the perfect family he thought he had.
Heeseung wanted to be able not to remember the bar his father frequented, but here he was. Across the street watching the large glass windows, and inside the establishment, people were drinking and celebrating something.
He was drinking too. He was already on his third bottle and brought the glass up to his lips to finish off the bitter liquid which, at this point, no longer had any effect. Heeseung was focused on the male figure who was laughing and raising his glass of alcohol to talk to some other men. So this was how his father looked every Thursday night before going home. That's how Heeseung followed him one night, tired of seeing his father come home late only to catch him drinking in that damn bar, with a woman sitting on his lap who must have been Heeseung's age.
His father didn't see him he didn't want to cause a fuss and make his mother even more worried because, frankly, Heeseung was on the other side of town and late at night. But he couldn't hide it when he got home and told his mother. She was an amazing woman and didn't deserve the kind of thing that was happening right behind his back and that of the whole family.
Heeseung didn't know that he could feel as strongly repulsed by someone as he did by the man who, at that moment, staggered out of the bar with another woman hanging around his neck.
He felt nauseous, wanting to throw up the beers he had bought while his eyes stung and blurred. But the figure of the man on the other side who was dialing something on his cell phone was clear, waiting for the app car together with another woman. She was different from the woman Heeseung first caught him with, so his father was with a different one every time. That was even more disgusting.
"Let's go to my apartment, baby" he laughed out loud as soon as the car arrived, letting the woman get in first and him follow behind. Leaving Heeseung's sight as the car pulled away.
"Fucker" Heeseung kicked the glass bottle against the sidewalk to break it instantly.
The tears were already rolling freely down his face and he didn't care that he was crying, he'd held it in for so long since the last two days. He stayed in his room so that he could cry in peace without his mother or Hajun noticing. He didn't want to worry them because he was now the oldest male figure there. While his mother worked all the time at the company, Heeseung needed to be there for Hajun even if you were with him.
His thoughts were soon interrupted by the sound of Heeseung's cell phone, startling him briefly as he picked it up to see who was calling. His mother.
Involuntarily, a sad smile formed amidst the tears and he didn't think twice about answering the call.
"Hi son, where are you?" she asked on the other end of the line.
"I came for a walk" he struggled to keep his voice from sounding so sad and tearful, clearing his throat as he sniffled "Is everything all right? Do you need anything?"
"Everything's fine, don't worry" she laughed, making Heeseung laugh too. That laugh that he missed, knowing that it was slowly coming back "It's just that a great opportunity has arisen to close a deal with another partner in the company and I'm going to have to travel to the neighboring city for a week."
"And Hajun?" he asked.
"I've just spoken to Y/n, she's going to sleep at home" his mother just passed on the information, showing that the decision had already been made. And even if it wasn't, Heeseung couldn't do much since he knew that his younger brother needed the nanny's care. He couldn't be available to look after Hajun.
"All right" he said afterward, "I'm coming home."
"Okay, my son. Come back carefully, okay?" she seemed to be smiling as she spoke, which warmed Heeseung's heart "Be a good boy with the two of them at home, please."
"I will" he replied "Bye mom, I love you."
"I love you more, my boy" and saying that, she hung up.
Heeseung felt less bad about his mother's call, but he still couldn't forget the scene he had seen a few minutes ago. He knew that his mother was moving on and accepting the divorce as best she could, but Heeseung couldn't forgive the betrayal. The way his father had acted in the face of everything. He hadn't spoken to the man since he found out, choosing to ignore his calls and messages and telling his mother not to go to the university. Heeseung didn't want to see him. He'd rather pretend he'd never met or lived with a lying father than have to say anything to the man.
Maybe he needed to go home like he said he would. His head was already beginning to buzz with disparaging and angry thoughts, which he wanted to get rid of quickly.
A hot bath and a video game were all Heeseung needed at the moment to feel cleansed of everything he had witnessed that day. Not that it had been much, but he hadn't come home from university. He hadn't arrived at the same time as Hajun from school so that he could have lunch with him. Heeseung wandered around every familiar corner until he stopped at an app car and went straight to that damn bar. Now it was time to get another app car and go home.
Heeseung felt angry with himself for letting anger take over every fiber of his body, while he could do the same as his mother. Or even Hajun, who was already asking less about the man daily. Perhaps the younger brother wouldn't even remember his father if he wasn't mentioned, and the elder wanted it that way. He wanted his brother not to have the proximity he had to see how disgusting and untruthful the man who once lived with them was.
"Thank you" Heeseung thanked the driver as soon as he pulled up in front of his house, getting out of the car and waving quickly.
He took slow steps to the front door to see that everything was dark, you had probably already put Hajun to bed and that would be a relief. The two of you would be asleep and you wouldn't see the deplorable state that Heeseung had arrived home in.
In as much silence as he could manage, he unlocked the door and opened it, then locked it and looked around. Absolute silence inside the house. It brought Heeseung a little peace to think that the motherfucker he had seen earlier would never set foot in his house again.
He took off his shoes and the jacket he was wearing, throwing the garment on the sofa and feeling his body begin to tire. His throat was dry from the beers and from crying, his eyes would surely swell up because of it and Heeseung always forgot that fact. It was a pain. So maybe a little water would at least save his throat; he'd deal with his morning appearance later.
Heeseung walked to the kitchen only to feel a scream escape his mouth as the fridge door slammed shut.
"Fuck" he put his hand over his chest as he looked at your equally frightened figure. You had also let out a little scream, but he only heard his own because his ears were ringing "Why is everything out?" he asked when he saw you moving away from the fridge.
"I thought you'd already arrived, I didn't want to disturb you" you held up the bottle of juice, probably something you'd drink while you were there until you fell asleep.
Heeseung just nodded and walked over to the light switch, squeezing his eyes shut along with you when the brightness hit. It didn't take long to get used to it before he looked at you, swallowing dryly as you looked back at him.
"Is everything okay?" you asked. Heeseung was going to ask why but forgot that his eyes and the tip of his nose were probably red because he had been crying.
Shit. Continuing with the light off could have been better.
"I don't want to talk about it" he replied immediately, his nervous tone returning as Heeseung looked away from you.
"Heeseung—"
"You're here to look after Hajun, right?" turning to look at you, Heeseung felt his eyes misting up again. He didn't know why he felt like crying while standing in front of you, one of the only people he didn't want to show himself vulnerable to apart from his younger brother and his mother "So why don't you do your job, and stop asking questions?"
For a split second, Heeseung saw your shoulders slump, the bottle of juice resting on the sink and your lips parting to say something. He blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling.
"What's your problem?" you finally said to him, your chest aching and your heart beating fast from nervousness "I have no idea what's happened to you" with each word, you took a tiny step towards him because Heeseung was blocking the passage from the kitchen worktop to the main door to leave the room. You had no choice but to approach him "But don't take your frustrations out on me!" you wanted to shout the last sentence, but out of respect for Hajun and for him being asleep, all you did was poke his chest a little harder. Pushing your index finger in there.
Heeseung closed his eyes as he felt your finger pushing him, but before you could push him away, he grabbed your hand.
Your eyes widened at him because that was the first touch the two of you had shared since you started working at the Lee family home. His fingers were warm against your wrist and you wanted to struggle to get out of his grip, but without a doubt, Heeseung was stronger and faster. Pulling your body against his and wrapping his other arm around your waist.
It would be foolish to ask what or why, and even more foolish to try to get out of there because with every reluctant movement you made, he pulled your body even tighter against him. He tilted his face towards you, lowering it enough to touch his forehead to yours, and you took the opportunity to lean in and meet his lips halfway.
The touch of Heeseung's lips was soft, his tongue pressing against your bottom lip was electrifying and when he wrapped the muscle around yours, you could taste the lingering taste of beer in his mouth. It wasn't as if you'd never drunk before, but feeling the alcohol in someone else's mouth, Heeseung's had made your whole body shiver.
He pulled your body closer until his big hands and firm fingers pressed your waist to your butt. Giving small touches to your thigh, he wanted to signal you to jump into his lap, and without disobeying you did so, already knowing that your butt would be in contact with the cold marble countertop in the kitchen.
Your legs wrapped around Heeseung's waist and body to pull him closer while you lost yourself in his lips. It would be a lie to say that he didn't notice every detail of your face, and you would also be a hypocrite to say that you didn't look at him a little more closely when he wasn't looking at you. But feeling the softness of those lips that were always frowning in your direction was wonderful.
Heeseung lowered his lips to your chin and kissed down to your jaw, then down to your neck, and like a damn pro, he hit exactly the spot that made your whole body shudder. Your reaction couldn't have been different, letting out a sly moan and clamping your legs even tighter around him. When Heeseung's body tightened between your legs, he instinctively moved his hips towards your, thrusting his hips to give your better friction between his legs.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at each strand while your mouth worked wonders on his skin down to his collarbone.
He moved his hips again, this time you could feel Heeseung's semi-hard cock pressing against your pajama-clad pussy. Moaning once more, you tugged on his hair as he lifted his head to kiss you again.
It was breathtaking how he felt between your legs, taken by your lips and touching your body with his fingertips. Your waist was perfect, fitting exactly between his palms as he pressed you even tighter against him. It was Heeseung's turn to moan against your lips when you planted your feet on his lower back to press Heeseung's hips even tighter against yours, nibbling on his lower lip to catch your breath.
"Y/n" he moaned your name and you almost whimpered and asked him to rip off all your clothes and fuck you right there. Heeseung would do it for sure, you wouldn't even think of denying it because of the way he was squeezing every curve of your body and chasing his lips to kiss you again.
If it hadn't been for the incessant crying upstairs. The two of you separated for a few seconds to see if you had heard the same thing. Heeseung's eyes traveled to yours and then to the kitchen door, hearing Hajun's crying again.
With great difficulty, he climbed out from between your legs, feeling the loss of contact grow cold between his fingers as he took a few steps back and took your hand to help you down from the worktop. Heeseung looked at you a little better this time. Lips reddened and the skin on your neck the same, a few bite marks he'd left while kissing there made him smile a little sideways as he saw your eyes go down to his cock.
"Oh" Heeseung threw his oversized blouse over it, even though it only covered half of his lower body, but he couldn't stop it.
You'd even tease him about how beautiful he looked with his hair messed up – by you – and his red mouth too inviting to keep kissing. But Hajun had called your name, taking you away from all the unholy thoughts you were having in the kitchen with Heeseung.
"Shit" you turned away from Heeseung and watched him throw his head back, as frustrated as you were to get it over with as the two of you ran to the top of the stairs. Climbing each step a little faster until you entered Hajun's room and were followed by his older brother "Hey, I'm here."
"I had a bad dream, Y/n" he was crying, hugging your body quickly as soon as you sat on the edge of the bed.
You kissed the top of Hajun's head and looked at the door, beckoning Heeseung to come in too. And so he did.
"Hey buddy, are you okay?" Heeseung knelt beside the bed where you were sitting with Hajun.
"Seungie" the younger man pulled out of your embrace, this time choosing to hug his brother, "I had a bad dream."
"Do you want to tell us what it was like?" Heeseung asked.
Hajun remained quiet for a while still hugging Heeseung, probably calming down from the fright he'd had as he got out of his brother's arms and lay back on the bed. You dried the stubborn tears from his face with such a gentle touch, that it made Heeseung wonder if you would have done the same for him if you had seen him cry earlier.
What kind of fucking thought is that, Heeseung? He pushed any thoughts of this aside and focused on the scene in front of him, seeing that Hajun looked a little calmer as he sighed.
"I dreamt about my father" the mention of the man, made Heeseung's jaw clenched, and he wanted to curse himself so much for seeing that your eyes were on him now. Surely this could come up as a topic of conversation or, worse, now you could find out about his father. And that was a subject Heeseung didn't want anyone to know about.
"And do you remember what it was like?" you asked.
"Never mind, Hajun's tired—"
"He fought with me in the dream" Hajun interrupted Heeseung who was already on his feet, he didn't want to pace around while listening to his brother's dream "And then I saw him beating up Seungie and leaving the house with my favorite teddy bear."
Before Hajun could cry again, you grabbed one of his hands and kissed it.
"It was just a dream, it won't happen, Junie" trying to reassure the little boy that it would never happen was easier than you thought. He smiled at you.
"Promise you won't let it happen? That you'll look after me, but Heeseung too?"
Hajun's eyes were so pleading and piteous. You wondered if Heeseung did the same thing when he wanted something. But also, you wondered why that had been said. Why had Hajun asked you to do that kind of thing?
Your lack of words made Heeseung restless, moving from side to side until he went to the bedroom door. Perhaps you had been clear in your attitude that you were only there to look after Hajun. He just didn't know why it was bothering him so much, leaving a slight tightness in his chest. It could be because of his brother's dream, of course! That was it, wasn't it? Or was it his lack of an answer?
Heeseung didn't want to think too much, he didn't want to let anything get to him. But he was completely wrong when standing in the doorway of Hajun's room, he heard you.
"I promise, Junie."
If before it was inevitable not to look at you while you were around, now it seemed impossible for Heeseung to look away from you. Even having to spend a whole week with just you, him, and Hajun.
The boy had the vivid memory of your lips against him in that kitchen every time he saw you say something. Your mouth moved to answer something his younger brother or talk on the phone to his mother because she called and wanted to know if everything was okay. Heeseung wanted to curse himself for remembering the sounds you made and how he felt when he got between your legs. It might have sounded pathetic to any guy who said it out loud, especially if it was about you.
He'd certainly heard half an hour of Jake's lecture about what had happened, especially as he didn't dare to say much afterward.
"She thinks I'm an idiot, then?" Heeseung asked.
"More than usual? Absolutely" Jake wanted to throw anything in his hand at his friend's head, especially after he saw the gleam in Heeseung's eye when he talked about you.
It was clear that all that denial was turning into attraction and Sim knew it would, he didn't read the silly novels that Ryunjin pushed at him for nothing, something would have to do and sure enough, it was the analysis he'd done on your – unofficial – relationship with Heeseung. Something he kept quiet until his older friend opened his mouth and told him everything.
At first, the kiss had been something that had shocked Jake, after all, Heeseung couldn't spend two seconds next to you without an argument breaking out. But as he went on to tell you about the events and how he had been acting around you during that week, something in Jake clicked. It wasn't necessarily a crush, but something in Heeseung about finding you attractive or starting to take a romantic interest in you.
"That's got to be a joke, doesn't it?" Heeseung turned to Jake and then looked at Sunghoon, another friend of the two of them who always listened to the lamentations and frustrations about how Heeseung had argued – again – with you.
"Firstly, you didn't deny it at any point when Jake talked about you being attracted to Y/n ever since we arrived" Sunghoon leaned back even further in the café chair, holding back a smile when he saw his friend's eyes go wide "Secondly, you kissed her, like, do you do that with someone you can't stand?"
Heeseung wanted to say yes, that was exactly it. It would be normal to kiss someone he can't stand, right? But the question would be... Why can't he stand himself?
After keeping quiet for a while, he tried to forget how right his friends were because he didn't want to dwell on something he was struggling to forget, especially since his mother's week away was over and that meant you'd be going back home. No more seeing you at home all the time, at least not alone. This would give him time to think more calmly and put all his thoughts in order, which could make him even more confused if it were possible.
Sighing heavily after returning from university, Heeseung just wanted to throw himself on his bed and forget about all that mental confusion for the next few days. Isolate himself, do his homework, and pretend you weren't downstairs in his house. Maybe that would be easy. Maybe he could ignore it a little and try not to run around looking like an idiot in front of you because he's had a whole week, uninterrupted, to say a single word to you. But no, Heeseung couldn't.
At least he said good morning and smiled at you every day while you were with Hajun, right? You shouldn't smile back, you shouldn't make him almost scream internally because you were being nice to him.
Shit, Heeseung. You sound like a teenager, you idiot. He might even have continued talking in his head if it hadn't been for the voices coming from the living room.
Heeseung didn't want to think that he had arrived at his house after you and that he would see the scene of you fooling around with Hajun. He tried to run as far as he could when Jake gave him a lift so he wouldn't have to wait for you to get home and have lunch with you. At least not that day. But to the boy's surprise, the voices were much more different than his own.
And he knew – unfortunately – who it was.
"Look, you're here" in the old days, Heeseung would have given anything to hear that voice cheerfully after coming home from school, perhaps if he were in eighth grade again. But coming home from university with a sick feeling in his stomach, he just wanted to throw up as he looked at his father.
"Son" his mother got up from the sofa where she was, not so close to his father, and they both seemed to be having an amicable conversation before Heeseung arrived.
"What are you doing here?" he asked directly to the man who was trying to smile in his direction.
"Your father called me yesterday, he misses you and Hajun" his mother had the sweetest voice of all, and on any occasion. Heeseung wanted to ask her how she was feeling in the presence of that man. It was impossible to have such a beautiful smile and calm voice after everything he had done.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he knew that his pent-up anger would come out somehow, he just didn't want to explode in front of his mother. At least Hajun wasn't there.
"I asked your mother to spend a weekend with you and Hajun" he took a step forward to try to get closer to Heeseung. The boy did the same, mustering the only ounce of sanity he had not to slam his fist into the man's face. Unfortunately, it was still his father.
"I won't, and you won't get Hajun out of this house."
"Heeseung" his mother called out.
"What's your problem, Mom? Really?" Heeseung turned away from his father and walked to the middle of the room to approach his mother. It was almost like a plea when he let out, "After everything he's done, you still have the nerve to let him in and allow this? No!"
"He's still your father, my son" she smiled weakly "And it's only a weekend..."
"No" he said.
The protests could continue, Heeseung knew that this discussion would be so long that they would spend hours in that room. They shouted and protested that they wouldn't leave, but the door opened quickly.
Hajun's hurried footsteps and the conversation he was having with you were the reason the three of them shut up immediately.
"I can't do without this ice cream, Y/n. Please" Hajun whined. When you laughed, it was the only thing that could make Heeseung relax his shoulders, even if he didn't want to admit it. The sound of your laughter so close up awakened something in him.
"We can go to the other side of town after you've done your homework" you said, making the little boy giggle. Okay, maybe you were right, but he'd still convince you to go across town to the best ice cream parlor you and he had visited last week.
"Dad?" Hajun was the first to enter the room, looking at the scene before him. Upon hearing this, you took a few more hurried steps behind the little boy to be equally shocked by what you were seeing.
The father of the Lee family was there, for the first time since you started babysitting Hajun. Mrs. Lee had a small smile when she saw the little boy go towards her to hug him affectionately. But what caught your eye was Heeseung's furious look. That look you knew because it was the only thing you saw all that time, except when he looked at Hajun or his mother.
So Heeseung was angry at his father, the man who was smiling at you at that moment.
"Hello, you're..." he tried to make conversation when he saw that no one would say anything.
"Oh, I'm Y/n, Hajun's nanny" you approached to greet the smiling man, smiling too. But as soon as your hand almost touched him, a strong tug on your wrist made you stagger backward.
Your eyes quickly searched for the reason to find Heeseung already looking at you.
"Come up with Hajun, please" he ordered.
"Heeseung..."
"Not now, just go up with him" he whispered when he saw that Hajun was engaged in an awkward conversation with his father and mother "And stay there as long as you can."
"Are you okay?" Heeseung didn't want to have another clash of feelings at that moment, especially with your gaze so intensely on him. So he just nodded quickly and looked away to the other three.
"Junie, go upstairs with Y/n. I heard you need to do your homework..."
"But I wanted to meet the babysitter and, well, spend some time with your brother" the older man seemed quite nice, but if that was the reason Heeseung was clenching his hands into fists, it was certainly a false front.
"Hajun, go with Y/n" was the older brother's final word, and from the way the little boy didn't even question it, you knew it was something much more delicate.
As a silent apology, Mrs. Lee waved to you and Hajun before going upstairs to the youngest's room.
"Do you want to take a shower before you start your homework?" you asked, going to his closet to get some clothes that were more comfortable than his school uniform.
Searching for some sweat shorts and a T-shirt, you turned towards him to see Hajun's eyes redden and shine. Running up to the little one, you knelt in front of him before feeling little arms encircling your neck.
"Hey, hey, hey... Are you okay?" you whispered as you hugged him, sitting down on the floor to welcome the little one into a tight embrace.
"I don't like it, Y/n... I don't like it."
"What? What don't you like?" as you asked, your hands went straight to the little one's hair to stroke it as you let him cry in your embrace.
Hajun cried silently for a few minutes, sobbing softly as he felt a little safer in your arms.
"The last time Dad was here..." he sighed between whimpers, lifting his head a little to meet your face "He and Heeseung had a nasty fight, but neither of them knows that I know."
"Your mother knows?" you asked, Hajun agreed.
It was the night the betrayal came to light that Heeseung didn't want to put his mother through all that lying to sustain a marriage that was only for her. His father had been gone for a long time, or at least trying to maintain an appearance that didn't exist.
Hajun was supposed to be asleep that night, but Heeseung's furious shouts woke him up, causing him to get out of bed and open the bedroom door with a crack. Hearing the swearing and shouting, he also heard something. It sounded like a struggle. Mrs. Lee's crying aroused Hajun's despair and he almost went downstairs to see what was going on, why Heeseung was cursing his father. Hajun had never heard his older brother swear like that.
But before he could go downstairs, his mother stopped midway with watery eyes and a silent plea for him to go back to his room.
"Stay here, okay? And don't tell them about it" Hajun knew something was very wrong because he had never seen his mother cry. And after a few minutes, the fighting seemed to stop.
The front door slammed hard and then Hajun tried to forget what had happened for so long until he only remembered after seeing his father's figure standing there in the middle of the room. They were flashes of the small event that was much bigger, and it made you even more curious because Hajun's words were few, even though they contained a lot of information since you were left in the dark when you arrived.
At least there was something to know, but it wasn't as if you needed to ask him everything either. You just wanted to protect him and you would do that, the questions could come later.
"God, dude, stop drinking" Jake whined as Heeseung poured himself another glass, ignoring his friend's protests.
"Why?" he asked "As far as I remember, we came here because I'm sad and I need to get drunk."
"Drunk is fine, but not to the point of vomiting" Jake took another glass away from Heeseung "I'm taking you away and I don't want anyone vomiting in my car."
It was a fair point, but Heeseung didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He wanted to forget the last few weeks.
He wanted to forget that, unfortunately, his father had had a shitty, friendly talk with his mother, agreeing that he would take Hajun away for at least one weekend to go for a walk or do something nice. Even if the boy's fights and constant swearing came to nothing. He knew he couldn't stop it, not legally, so as long as nothing happened to the little boy, Heeseung vowed not to speak a word to his father.
Then he became even more frustrated by your presence in his home, and this was because, as the days went by, he realized that he could feel something. Not even the slightest something for you. But what he didn't count on was the fury that went through his whole being when he saw you laughing with a boy in the university cafeteria. Heeseung hardly ever saw you there, or if he did, it was always with Ryunjin, so why did it bother him so much?
The last fact had been a state secret, none of his friends knew anything about it. So they attributed Heeseung's bad mood and sadness to the events with his father and how powerless he felt to let Hajun meet the man he hated most on the face of the earth.
"I might as well go home alone" Heeseung flashed all his pearly teeth in a childish grin when Sunghoon arrived with a few more glasses.
He was such a savior of the fatherland, making his sad friend, who just wanted to get drunk at that moment, happy.
"So why did you ask me for a ride?" Jake raised one eyebrow, smiling "Why did you say you wouldn't drive and I was supposed to take you back home?"
"Because you love me and would do anything for me" Heeseung picked up another glass and turned away from Jake to drink.
There was no point in arguing or stopping the tallest boy from drinking that night, not even Sunghoon could do it. The only way out was to surrender and let Heeseung enjoy as much as he could, even if Jake sneered every time the glass was against Lee's lips.
He wondered what the car would look like if it swayed too much while he was taking Heeseung home, or what he would look like in the back seat or even in the back if he had to take Sunghoon too.
And it was this scene that Jake found himself in, a few hours later, as he carried his two best friends out of the bar. Sunghoon was in the driver's seat to guide the way while Heeseung sat in the back seat, his legs wide apart and his head resting against the back of the seat.
Jake looked in the rearview mirror, afraid that some fluid would come out of Heeseung's mouth or that he would have to stop abruptly so that his friend would run off and vomit. But no, the journey continued normally until the three of them stopped in front of Lee's house. Meanwhile, Heeseung's mind was far away. Closed eyes had been a plague on his life for the past few weeks because every time it happened, your face would appear in his mind. It was something Heeseung tried at all costs to ignore. Something he swore to himself that if it happened again, he would have to take action.
And it was impossible not to think about you after the last scene he saw, your smile at that other boy still played like a memorized movie in his mind and even if you hadn't meant it, Heeseung had no right to feel that way. He was the one who had been a jerk to you all along, you couldn't be expected to be sweet to him about it.
"Heeseung" Sunghoon called out, turning back to touch his friend's knee. He opened his eyes slowly, getting used to the idea of seeing his friend's face and not his own in his thoughts.
"What's up?" he asked as soon as he was off the bench and sitting properly.
"We're here" Jake said, turning off the car "Do you want us to go in with you?"
A while of silence was enough for Heeseung's mind to wander even further and, without realizing it, it had already come out of his mouth without giving him a chance to regret it.
"Take me to Y/n's house."
"What the fuck?" Sunghoon almost shouted. Jake turned around abruptly, almost hitting Sunghoon head-on.
"Dude, what the fuck? Why are you asking me this?" he asked.
Really, why was he asking this? Heeseung didn't have an effective explanation for it, much less did he think he should. He just felt like it.
"I don't know, I just need to see her now and..." a long sigh came from his lips, Heeseung allowed himself to run one hand through his hair as he looked at Jake and then at Sunghoon "I need to make up for the shit I've done and tell her that I can't stop thinking about her."
"Oh" the two friends said at the same time, Jake swallowing down the urge to shout and say that it was all part of the little novel he'd written in his head about you and Heeseung. But that would be something for future conversations.
"Only if you tell me something" Jake said.
"Whatever you want to know" since everything was screwed up, there was no point in hiding anything from his best friend.
"Your father wasn't the only reason we were at the bar hours ago, was he?"
The shy smile that Heeseung tried to hide by biting his lower lip said it all, he didn't need a specific word for Jake or Sunghoon. It was clear how exactly that said that you had also been a reason, even if neither of them knew what it was.
Seeing Heeseung like that was new for the two boys sitting in the driver's and passenger's seats, so all that was left was for Jake to start the car again and drive to your apartment. Without asking Heeseung any questions about it.
But nothing stopped Sunghoon from making fun of him the whole way.
Words of encouragement were a mantra in the boy's mind who, with every step into the building where you lived, felt his whole body tremble. It was strange to be feeling this way, even more so for him who had never been this attached. Heeseung had never really thought that a girl could make him so nervous that he almost tripped over his own feet as he entered the elevator.
What could he say to you when he knocked on your door? That he wanted to see you? That would be something you wouldn't believe, even if it was the only truth he could tell you.
It made Heeseung rethink everything he'd ever said to you and the way he'd treated you since he met you. He didn't mean to be rude and he knew that it was all a reflection of what he had experienced with his father's disagreements. You, unfortunately, were the only person around and he didn't want the sight of someone new coming into his house. Because the last person to come out from under that roof had made a huge stranger in his life.
Heeseung didn't want to give in to someone like you, who came so easily into the Lee family's life and won over even his mother. The way she talked to you, the way she treated you like a member of the family. Heeseung rolled his eyes every time his mother brought the same candies, but not just for him and Hajun, she brought them for you too. Or how affectionate she was with you when you were at his house, chatting like old friends and laughing at things he didn't understand. He didn't want to understand why his mother was so happy after finding out she had been betrayed while Heeseung was suffering and disgusted by his father's image.
It was something he hadn't understood until recently. Maybe all the answers were right in front of his eyes, he just didn't want to accept it yet. So he needed to throw his hands up in the air and knock on your door right then and there, and that's exactly what he did.
He didn't know how you would react and he didn't want to, just looking at you would be enough for him to smile and walk away. Maybe apologize and say some lame excuse the next day and hope you believed his words.
Heeseung heard footsteps from inside the apartment and some mumbling that you were already on your way, indicating that you weren't ready for visitors or were far enough away to answer the door. Apprehension gripped his entire body as he took a few steps closer to hear what was going on inside.
As soon as you opened it, finishing putting on one of the sleeves of your long coat, Heeseung's world seemed to stop right there.
You were beautiful. More beautiful than he'd ever seen you before. Sharing the same roof with you for a week when his mother went away gave him the right to see you in your pajamas practically every night, but he didn't know that you looked even more beautiful in light silk pajamas and wearing a wool coat to cover your exposed arms.
"Heeseung?" your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he looked at your face, the shock and curiosity screaming in your eyes making him feel euphoric. He didn't know what to say as he saw that you were still standing there, slightly startled by his presence.
He opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. It was as if Heeseung had unlearned how to say anything because your gaze was making him shy.
When you took a step towards him, as if to get the attention of the boy in front of you, Heeseung didn't reason enough. He just raised one of his hands to touch the wool of your jacket and pulled you forward. The slow thud of your body against his made you let out a startled cry, which soon calmed down when Heeseung looked you in the eye.
"Jake gave me your address," he whispered "I needed to come here."
"Why?" your low voice sent all kinds of sensations through Heeseung's body and he wanted to be able to run away, but he limited himself. Squeezing his fingers against the wool of your jacket and loosening the fabric little by little.
"Because I want to talk to you, can we?" it was your time to deny it, tell him to go home and carry on without talking to Heeseung because a conversation with him would never end well.
But it wasn't like you to do anything you really should, so you gave him the go-ahead to enter your apartment and guide him to the sofa. Asking him to sit down before disappearing down the corridors. Just long enough for Heeseung to take off his jacket and put it on the armchair next to him, then sit down on the larger sofa and look around. Trying to get as many details as possible in case one day you asked him what he thought of your apartment.
Not that it mattered, he could say he'd need to go there more often to notice anything different. But remembering the first time you were here could be something useful and nice, perhaps.
"Here" you came back into the living room with a glass of water in your hands, walking over to the sofa where he was sitting and handing him the glass.
"Thanks" he said after taking the glass, drinking almost all the water in a matter of seconds. This was an indication of how nervous he still was after feeling your weight next to him on the sofa, the closest you'd been since the kiss you two had shared in the kitchen at his house.
Heeseung placed his glass on the coffee table and continued to stare at his own feet as he sighed slowly, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers.
"My relationship with my father is the worst of all, and you've realized that haven't you?" you mumbled when he asked, albeit rhetorically, letting him continue his train of thought when he looked at you straight away "He cheated on my mother and ruined our family."
Oh. So that's why Heeseung was so harsh in his father's presence. And you couldn't understand how someone could betray Mrs. Lee, even if she was such an incredible woman.
"When my mother hired you, it was because she wanted to keep Hajun entertained most of the time and she knew I wouldn't be able to do that because I signed up for everything the university offered. Just so I wouldn't stay at home and have to deal with my father showing up."
Heeseung hated to lie that he had been neglectful to his younger brother about this, but he also couldn't risk bumping into his father and ending up fighting with the man in his younger brother's presence. That's when Mrs. Lee hired you as a nanny. Having someone to give the little one the attention that neither she nor Heeseung could be her priority. Someone you knew – even if you and Heeseung didn't speak to each other at the time – made the woman feel relieved because you seemed to have hit it off with the little one straight away.
"Seeing you integrate into the family made me feel angry because no one could like such a broken family with a false front" Heeseung was still looking at you, but his thoughts were a little more distant when he rambled "My mother wasn't happy when she hired you as a nanny. Hajun wasn't so happy when he met you and he only did it because my mother asked him to be nice to whoever was going to take care of him" a long sigh came from Heeseung's lips, looking away from you. "And I didn't accept that someone would be so nice to us because the last person who treated me, my brother, and my mother, so well, betrayed all of us."
You listened intently, seeing how broken Heeseung was inside your home. Opening his heart to you and asking for nothing in return.
He spoke for the first time about what it was like to have caught his father that night at the bar, how he felt the anger consume his body, and how he fought so many times until the man finally left the house. The divorce proceedings were kept under wraps because Hajun couldn't have known that something bad was going on, and your role was important in distracting him.
Heeseung admitted everything. And all the bad treatment he's given you since he met you was because he didn't know how to separate what was bad with his father, and that it shouldn't show to anyone. You wouldn't be like his father to anyone in the family, but amid the whole divorce process, you were there. Doing good for the Lee family without even knowing it.
And he didn't think he deserved it. I knew that Hajun deserved everything wonderful because he would spare his brother any bad feelings, but when you started being nice to Heeseung, he only knew how to be defensive.
You weren't supposed to greet him every time you were at home, you weren't supposed to flash smiles in his direction, let alone wave after a short answer he gave. Heeseung was rude – even for no reason – and you were still nice to him. Or at least polite. He wanted to believe that it was out of pure politeness and because Hajun was almost always around.
"I know I was a complete idiot and you never deserved that anyway" he slid his hand up to rest on your knee, feeling the slow touch of your fingers against his. Hesitantly, you took Heeseung's hand to intertwine your fingers in each other's "And that day in my kitchen..."
"We don't— Don't need to talk about..."
"I want to talk about it" he interrupted you, squeezing your fingers lightly and looking at you. This forced you to look at him too and maintain eye contact as you listened to every word Heeseung had to say "It was the day I saw my father in the bar, I left very angry."
You wanted to ask why he had gone after his father because Heeseung liked to beat himself up about it. But perhaps that was a conversation for another time, his gaze was so intent on you that all you could think about was every word he said.
"When I got home and you were in the kitchen, arguing was so unbearable that I acted on impulse when I kissed you and..." Heeseung's gaze dropped to your mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry gulp as he swallowed his saliva nervously "I didn't regret it, because I wanted it again."
"You—"
"I don't know what you did, Y/n, but I can't stop thinking about that day" neither can I, you wanted to answer, but hearing you say everything without a hint of pressure was wonderful. Maybe you'd confess later, but hearing his confession first was much better "You make me nervous, and want to kiss you every time we're near each other."
It was your turn to swallow. Heeseung was still staring at your mouth as if he were mesmerized by every detail of your lips when he felt your hand break away from his and go to the face next to you. You pulled him by the chin and felt Heeseung's breath against your skin from the sudden contact.
"We're too close now, what can you do?" you whispered.
He knew very well what to do and he wasn't going to waste any more time as he had done in previous weeks. Heeseung allowed his lips to touch yours slowly, but showing the urgency he had to feel you like that again.
You completely surrendered to the moment of having to kiss Heeseung again, this time knowing the exact moment when he asked for permission to enter your mouth with his tongue and how much slower his lips were now. Each movement was well appreciated as his hands slid down to your waist and yours ran to the back of his neck. Pulling Heeseung close, almost as if he wanted to fuse him against your body. And he would certainly do that if necessary.
But all he did was lay you back against the sofa while still maintaining the slow rhythm of the kiss, sighing against your lips as you spread your legs to accommodate Heeseung's body between them. It was a scene from heaven to be there again and in a slightly better position than sitting on a kitchen worktop. Heeseung could have sworn he cried in the middle of that kiss at being so close to you again.
Like a memory from last time, as soon as you both felt the need for air and he slid his mouth over yours, a moan came out of his throat. As sly as if he was really inside you when Heeseung kissed a specific spot on your neck.
That sound triggered something in him that, at the same moment, Heeseung pressed his hips against yours so that you could feel the full effect that just one kiss had on him.
"Hee..." you whispered as he returned with kisses all over your skin until he reached your earlobe, nibbling the skin slowly before aligning his face with yours again.
"You wouldn't be able to stop me now, would you?" he whispered back, kissing your mouth as slowly as he moved his hips against yours. It was torturous and at the same time sensual to feel Heeseung's tongue slide against yours at the same pace as he pressed his hard cock between your legs.
You moaned once more, anchoring your legs and holding his body there. Helping with the pressure and making him moan this time, biting his lower lip to break the kiss.
"You're going to be the death of me, Y/n" he gasped as he looked into your eyes. The fucking beautiful expression with the disheveled hair and droopy eyes, red mouth and chest rising and falling to normalize breathing.
"My room isn't too far from here" you pulled him back to you, feeling his lips hover over yours. Heeseung's smile widened even more.
"Good" he sealed his lips to yours "I haven't stopped wondering how this would end since the day I kissed you in that damn kitchen."
He wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the sofa to pick you up and carry you to your room with your instructions along the way.
Heeseung just didn't know that you were also thinking about it, about to unravel all that thought.
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
#enhypen smut#heeseung smut#enhypen#enhypen fluff#heeseung fluff#enha smut#heeseung#enha fics#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen masterlist#lee heeseung fluff#lee heeseung smut#heeseung fanfics#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung imagines
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What if Charlie calls Nanny!Reader mama? Lucifer's reaction?
A/n: I am dying! This is adorable 😩
It's not like he meant to hear it, really he hated to listen in on yours and Charlies conversations but this one, this one nearly had him in tears. He never expected Charlie to say it but he couldn't blame her at all. She was very young when Lilith left and you were a constant in her life.
Yawning, Charlie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked up at you. A little smile on her face as you tucked her into the bed. "Goodnight mommy."
Tensing for a moment, you blinked a few times then gave the girl a smile as you brushed a strand of her golden hair out of her face. "Goodnight to you too sweetheart."
Waiting until the little girl fell asleep, you took a deep breath in then wiped a tear away as you nearly slammed into a body standing near by. "Oh! Sir. I'm sorry." Tipping your head you gave him a weak smile as you brushed past him until he grasped your wrist gently.
"You didn't correct her...Charlie...you let her call you mother."
Letting out a weak laugh you adverted your gaze then took a deep breath. "I'll stop her next time, I wasn't thinking I-."
"No..." Lucifer paused then took a deep breath shaking his head as he brushed your cheek then took a step back. "No you...there is no need for that, I like it and it's...if it makes Charlie happy and if you are okay with it then please."
Nearly leaning into his touch, you smiled feeling warmth creep up your neck. "Okay...I will....goodnight sir."
Brushing past Lucifer, you gave him one last smile as you brushed past him then towards your room.
Watching you leave, Lucifer couldn't help but feel giddy, warm at hearing Charlie call you mommy. He felt the same way he realized the moment he fell in love for Lilith.
He loved you
"Shit."
#drabbles#drabble#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer x y/n#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer magne x reader#lucifer magne x you#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer hazbin#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n
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A Tale of Two Eyes
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader
word count: 2.8k
warnings: trauma, mentions of suicide, mentions of Helaemond, toxic marriage, reader has established relationship with Aemond and they have children, reader is pregnant, marriage of convenience, political marriage, arguing, undertones of an abusive relationship, selfish Aemond, hate on the Blacks (love Rhaenyra tho, just for the story themes)
a/n woah I wrote?!?! Happy birthday Ewan ily mwah
summary Aemond's son and heir just met the same fate as he did all those years ago with Lucerys.
masterlist
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read time: 10 mins 11 seconds
That afternoon was a blur. Everything for Y/N has moved so quickly, yet so slowly at the same time. She had asked Ser Criston to fetch her sons, ten-year-old Daeron and six-year-old Aerion, for dinner. They had been playing out in the courtyard for a few hours. She had her three-year-old daughter, Visenya, sat and prepared to feast for the evening meal. Visenya wiggled in her seat, anxious for her brothers to join her to feast. The morning was rough on Y/N, as she was currently seven months pregnant with her fourth child with Aemond. Visenya had been a terror as well, as she has now taken to escaping her caretakers and seeking out Y/N specifically. Y/N was speaking to Visenya, trying to distract her from her hungry stomach and practicing her vowels when her mother-in-law, Alicent, came rushing into the dining room. The Dowager Queen looked frantic as she quickly came to Y/N’s side.
“It’s Daeron,” she spoke, out of breath. “Daeron?” Y/N asked. Alicent motioned for her to follow her, as she did not want to alarm Visenya. Y/N immediately left Visenya with their nanny and followed her mother-in-law quickly down the castle halls.
“What has happened?” Y/N asked, holding her stomach with one hand and walking as fast as she possibly could. “Aegon and Viserys…” Alicent paused. The names of Rhaenyra’s last two surviving sons. They have always quarreled with her and Aemond’s sons, and now she truly feared the worst.
“They have taken Daeron’s eye just as Lucerys did to Aemond years ago.”
Y/N abruptly stopped in the hallway, grabbing the wall for guidance.
“Excuse me?” she blinked a few times, angered at her mother-in-law for just dropping this knowledge on her. For the sake of her unborn child, she tried not to let her emotions run rampant.
For her first child, her first son, heir to the Iron Throne, and the beginning of the new Targaryen age has just been permanently maimed or killed.
Aemond never attended dinners anymore. The man Y/N knew when they were first betrothed was long gone after the results of the dance. Aemond could barely deal with the grief of his siblings, niece, and nephews. Y/N had always speculated a secret love affair with her husband and his now-deceased sister, Helaena, but she never approached the subject. He was never the same after Helaena’s suicide. Aemond had been a broken man since, even though he was living out his dreams. He was now the King. The Blacks were defeated, only leaving Rhaenyra’s two legitimate sons with Daemon, as they were too young to understand the effects of what they were born into. Alicent took them in against her better judgment.
So now, he sat in his office alone like he did most nights. The candlelight was dim and his wine glass was almost emptied. He sat hunched over letters, writing them to various Lords around Westeros. Aemond often filled his time with work so he could escape the horrors of his true life. It was pitch black outside and pouring now, as it had been hours since dinner was supposed to have happened. He heard a knock on his office door.
“Enter.”
He didn’t expect his wife. He straightened his posture and took off his reading magnifier from the bridge of his nose. He took in her essence. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Their marriage wasn’t ideal, but she had been essential for the success of the Greens in the dance, as their marriage brought House Targaryen together with one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. Aemond took a deep breath.
“My lady wife–”
His words got caught in his throat when he saw the blood on her hands. “Is the child all right?”
Y/N nodded eagerly to assure him that this wasn’t a complication in her pregnancy. “What has happened? Is someone hurt?” Aemond eagerly asked, standing up from his desk and striding over to her. “I-It’s Daeron…”
“Daeron?” Aemond replied, relief running over him that the issue wasn’t the child. Yet he worried for his heir. Y/N was shaking, Aemond grabbed her hands. “You mustn't freak.” she asked of Aemond. His brows furrowed. “Calm yourself, woman. Explain what happened.”
“Him and Aerion… got in a scuffle with Aegon and Viserys.”
Aemond’s grip tightened on Y/N’s hands. If it weren’t for the grace of her and Alicent, Aemond would have had those two children’s heads on spikes before they were old enough to realize their parents' crimes. “What prompted the fight?” he asked angrily. Y/N shrugged. “That–that is to be determined. I don’t want you to freak–”
“Do not tell me what to do. What is of Daeron?” he raised his voice to his wife. “He–”
Y/N took a deep breath and paused. She didn’t know how to approach this with her husband correctly and not trigger him from his past. Her hand moved to her husband's cheek, her fingers moving over the strap of his eyepatch slowly. “Do you remember?”
Aemond scoffed.
“Of course, I remember. You don’t need to remind me.” his lips pursed as he closed his remaining eye momentarily and sighed. “Why is this relevant?”
Y/N had no clue how to tell her husband this. She was expecting him to have the same reaction she and Queen Alicent were having.
“Our son just met the same fate.”
Aemond pondered for a moment, then turned around and brushed Y/N’s hand off his cheek. He returned to his desk. He felt sick, he had to sit down. Aemond didn’t fully understand the situation yet but feared the worst. He was silent for a great moment, hearing a small sniffle coming from his wife brought him back to reality. “What happened to Daeron? Do you mean to tell me he’s lost his eye? Don’t tell me he’s dead…”
“He isn’t. But Viserys scraped it out like Lucerys did to yours.”
Aemond slammed his fist on the desk, making Y/N jump. Aemond seethed in anger, thoughts running rampant in his head. After a long pause, he spoke. “And did you tell my mother yet?”
“She is with him as we speak.” Y/N replied, anxiously waiting to see where her husband's emotions ran at that moment. “Where is Aerion? Is he harmed?” he asked of his spare, who could likely become his heir at any moment. “Aerion is fine just… traumatized. He tried to go after Viserys but Criston pulled him away when he got to the scene.”
Aemond seethed, then suddenly threw his wine goblet to the wall. It smashed and scared Y/N. “Aemond–”
“Send Daeron to my mother’s chambers. Tell her I’ll be along shortly, I have letters to write.”
He didn’t even look up at his wife as he put his spectacle back on.
“What?” Y/N held her stomach with one hand, the other on her hip. She was confused. “You’re returning to your work?” She didn’t even get another word in before Aemond snapped. “Send Daeron to my mother's room at once!”
She was utterly shocked. How could he? Work? His son needed his father. The only person who could relate and help Daeron through this terrible time in his life… and Aemond chose to work? “Your son needs you!”
Aemond growled. “I’ll tend to him later. He’s going to survive, and I have work to do.”
Y/N was flabbergasted.
“You’re the only one who can help him understand. The boy is ten and just lost his eye! That is your son!”
Y/N knew she was fighting in a losing battle. But she had to plead for her son. He had been requesting his father for some time now. Aemond abruptly stood, walking to his door. He didn’t look at her once. “If you think talking to him will do him any good, I’ll do it. I’ll write my letters and come when I can,” he mumbled. When Y/N realized this was the best she was going to get, she decided to leave. As she was exiting the door, the child kicked in her womb roughly. She groaned and Aemond looked up to her, seeing her clutching her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Y/N said coldly. He watched her exit. She wasn’t expecting another word from him.
She could hear him before she saw him. Y/N entered Alicent’s chamber to see her son sobbing, clinging to his grandmother. Alicent brushed his hair softly with her fingers, her stare distant. Y/N could tell that Alicent had seen this story before, and she didn’t like the ending. The look of vengeance plagued the middle-aged woman's face. As Daeron heard someone enter the room, he spoke.
“Father?”
Y/N’s heart simply broke then. Daeron was truly in a state of shock, he barely paid attention to anything but the throbbing sensation of the worst pain he had ever felt in his life on his face. “No, sweet boy. Your father…” Y/N caught herself. She couldn’t tell her son that his father refused to see him. No. It would simply break his heart and his spirit more than they already were broken. “I could not find him. The guards will notify him shortly when they find him.” Y/N moved to the bed, and Alicent moved so Y/N could comfort her son Daeron. Alicent gave her an honest nod and stepped into the hallway. Y/N embraced her ten-year-old in her arms, and he rested his head on the fleshy part of her arm. He was still holding a rag over his wound, so Y/N took the rag from his hand and switched it with hers so the boy’s arm wouldn’t grow tired.
“What happened to me, mother?” Daeron spoke softly. He tried to look up at her but failed to do so. Y/N held back tears. “It wasn’t fair, my love. Viserys will pay. I will make sure of it.”
Daeron shook in her arms. “I-I’m scared.” he admitted to her. A sob finally came from the boy again, and he stopped crying when she entered the room. He was trying to stay strong for his mother. He was already showing such promising signs of a good King, even at such a young age. “What will I do without my eye, mother? Do I still have a future, will the girls still like me? They’ll think I’m gross for sure, I just know of it–”
“My son.” Y/N cut off his rambles. “Of course not. We shall not worry about this now. You are a handsome boy, and already a great warrior.”
“But–” Daeron began again. Y/N shushed him. “No. Shh. You must remember your father has the same wound as you. And is he a great warrior?”
Daeron nodded. “And is he married?”
Daeron nodded again. “My sweet son, my heir. Do not worry. You will be the greatest Targaryen that ever lived.” Y/N spoke. She moved closer to her son. “Don’t tell your father or siblings I said that,” Y/N whispered, managing a small smile trying to bring some humor to the boy. He desperately needed it. But it quickly faded, as the child inside of her kicked again.
“Mother?” Daeron asked. Even in his pained state, he cared for his mother. What a good boy she had raised. “Do not worry. The babe is just wild during this time of night.”
Y/N ran a hand over her son's bloodied hair which had now dried. She held him close until he fell asleep. Aemond never came.
During the very early hours of that morning, Y/N had failed to find sleep. She paced her shared chambers with Aemond. He had yet to return. She grew angrier and more frustrated by the minute. And finally, as she was re-lighting the candles that should have been blown out hours ago, she heard the door of her chambers click open and then shut. She turned to her husband, who looked cowardly now, with an angered glare. “Where have you been?”
Aemond shrugged. Y/N scoffed. “Do not play this game with me right now.” Y/N approached him, he smelt of dragon sweat and the salty sea. “Did you just take Vhagar for a ride?”
Aemond sighed. “Yes.”
Y/N couldn’t hold back the angered laugh. “You’re kidding me right now.” Aemond threw his boots from his feet against the wall. “I have my own ways of managing my–”
“Your son has lost an eye. Have you no heart?!” Y/N interrupted him. Aemond seethed silently, pausing. He then threw his jacket on the back of the couch. “I will see him in the morning.” Aemond answered tiredly. Y/N stared at him in shock. “I have no words for you.”
Aemond ignored his wife, moving to the closet. He changed into his nightly gown and his robe. He tried to get into bed, but Y/N was already sitting on the bed when he returned. “No. Not tonight.” she said sternly. Aemond scowled. “And why not?” Aemond asked with a sharp tongue. He was almost at his breaking point with her. Couldn’t she not understand his duties? His trauma from his past? How selfish of her…
“Why not?!” Y/N yelled “Your son has just been maimed for life and you refuse to see him! What kind of father are you?” This statement set Aemond off. All the anger, hurt, and hatred boiled over within him. He tried to keep it in for the sake that he did truly love his wife, but she failed to understand him over the years like this. Aemond took a deep breath. “Don’t you get it? I have been struggling for fucking years! Do you think I want to see my son, bloodied and broken as I once was at his age? No, you daft woman! I wish to be alone. You are incessantly bothering me and I am sick and tired of it!” he lashed out at his wife. Y/N sat in bed, tensed at his words. She didn’t know how to reply. The realization that the reason Aemond didn’t visit their son sank in; he simply did not know how to. “I cannot look at the mirror of my old self in him! For Gods sakes, he already is a copy of me! Now with this…”
Y/N took in his words. She saw him tearing up. “Aemond–” she attempted to speak. He cut her off. “I will have that child sent to the wall along with his blasted brother,” he spoke angrily. “Do not try to talk me out of it either. I am King and I have made my final choice. I have spared their lives when they should join their bastard brother Lucerys in Vhagar’s belly.”
“But your son–”
“He will live. You cannot coddle the boy. He must grow strong.”
“How could you say that?” Y/N answered. Aemond shrugged. “My father did the same, and I will follow.”
Y/N couldn’t believe her ears. Viserys was a terrible father to Aemond and his siblings, favoring Rhaenyra. “You know damn well that if Viserys still lived, he would pardon Rhaenyra’s son and blame Daeron somehow–”
“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!” Aemond snapped at her. He knew how terrible Viserys was. He knew how damaged his father had made him. But he was the man he was now because of Viserys, and he would never be the same happy little boy he was before the loss of his eye. And now that the same had just happened to his son, his heir, he couldn’t deal. Y/N watched him in horror as he turned to violence, smashing one of the vases in the room. She held her stomach, fearing her husband in his rage. After Aemond realized what he had done and how he had scared his wife, he stopped. Aemond’s yelling turned into sobs. He collapsed on his bed. Y/N warmly opened her arms to embrace him, despite being terrified of him seconds ago. Aemond clung to her and her baby bump for dear life.
“I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…” he whimpered, burying his face in the crook of her stomach under her breast. He was shaking. Y/N was too stunned to speak, but she spoke softly. “I know.”
She was furious at her husband. But the effects of the dance had ruined him. This wouldn’t have happened twelve years ago when they wed. They both had to re-learn each other–him with his trauma, her with her dedication to being a mother and a Queen. They struggled too often. But at solemn moments like this, when Aemond calmed down, they just held each other. The truth was, they were just two scared kids in this world. Thrown into the grasp of something neither of them wanted or intended. And that is how they stayed the rest of the night–trembling in each other’s arms, afraid of what the future held for them.
#peterparkersnose#peterparkersnosework#house of the dragon#game of thrones#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon season 2#house of the dragon leaked#ewan mitchell crumbs#house of the dragon spoiler#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond smut#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#ewan mitchell fanfiction#ewan mitchell fanfic#asoiaf#a song of ice and fire#fire and blood#alicent hightower#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen x oc#house of the dragon fanfiction
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There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.
In a field where the paper daisies grow,
Underneath the sun's harsh glow,
I wander through, light and free.
Paper daisies, pink and white,
Your petals so bright.
I sing to you as the world beyond burns.
The smoke coils in the sky far above,
But your petals still dance around me.
Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.
Everything lost will grow again.
Paper daisies, pink and white,
Your petals so bright.
I sing to you as the world beyond burns.
The stars begin to rise,
My hands scooping your seeds.
Soon you will take flight
Towards the soft moonlight.
There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.
Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.
“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.
"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.
"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.
"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.
"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.
"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.
The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.
"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.
Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.
"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.
"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.
"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.
"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.
Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.
One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.
"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.
"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.
Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.
"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.
"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.
It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.
"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.
"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.
"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.
"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.
"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.
"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.
"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.
"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.
"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.
"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.
"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.
Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.
"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.
"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.
"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.
"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.
"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.
Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.
Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.
"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.
"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.
"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.
"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.
"You were sleeping with him."
"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.
"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.
"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.
"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.
"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.
"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.
"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.
"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.
Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.
"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.
"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.
"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.
"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.
"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.
"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.
"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.
The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.
"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.
Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.
"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.
Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.
"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.
"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.
"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.
"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.
"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.
Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.
"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.
"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.
"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.
Revati stared at him and shook her head.
"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.
"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.
"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.
"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.
"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.
"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.
"No," Revati said firmly.
"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.
"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.
"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.
"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.
#nanowrimo#nanowrimo2023#science fiction#speculative fiction#speculative worldbuilding#futurism#sci-fi#creative writing#scifi story#science fiction novel
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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
✯social media posting
✯baby leclerc is everyone’s favourite leclerc, let’s be honest
✯another request!! thank you anon for asking for another baby leclerc! finding faceclaims is so hard and they’re never the same, so frustrating 😂
y/nleclerc
liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, arthurleclerc and 880,000 others
life lately♥️
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username i love them w my whole being
username jules is so adorable I SIMPLY CANNOT
lilyhme i’m so excited to see you guys tonight, i cannot wait for jules snuggles
>y/nleclerc she’s very excited to see you and alex!!
>landonorris where’s my invite 🤨
>y/nleclerc lando you’re sitting in front of me😐
username lando lives w y/n and charles now, it’s a fact 💀
scuderiaferrari little leclerc!!♥️
liked by y/nleclerc and charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc my girls❤️
y/nleclerc added to their story!
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je promets de vous donner la monde à tous les deux♥️
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y/nleclerc je t’aime tellement bébé, you are our entire world♥️
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landonorris can i come over and hangout please 😁
>charles_leclerc mate you just left 10 mins ago
>carlossainz55 yes he did, to come pick me up 😃
>y/nleclerc yes you can all come over, i’m making pasta for dinner
>landonorris pls don’t let charles help
>charles_leclerc i’m locking you all out.
username not the pasta 😭😭😭
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well cats out of the bag i guess, baby leclerc #2 is on the way! if you swipe to the end you can really see how proud of himself charles is. all jokes aside i am very excited for this new adventure with you, jules will be the best big sister and you’ll continue being the absolute best father to both our babies.
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carlossainz55 baby leclerc #2 let’s go!!❤️
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lewishamilton congratulations to you both❤️
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>y/nleclerc want to be hired as our nanny?
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 13] No Regrets
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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Kissing your ex-boyfriend back shouldn’t feel so wrong, yet it does. But you can’t pull away because your lips are stuck on him. He deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip before it enters your mouth. It should be your sign to pull away, but you can’t move.
Your tongue presses against his, while his hands stop cupping your face and they move down to your waist, pulling your whole body closer to him. The five years of pent up frustration are poured into the kiss from both of your ends. You know something though, that once it escalates neither of you will stop and you don’t want to do something you’ll regret.
When he pulls away to kiss lower, you get a glance at his eyes and it makes your stomach churn. You can’t do that with him. Never again. Your hands go to his arms and you unhook his arms from your waist. You take a deep breath, in disbelief that this is what’s happening– What you allowed to happen.
“That’s a funny answer considering you left me to get married to her.” You point out. You have nothing to say to him, and Satoru takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You have to work more, but you doubt you’ll be able to after what just happened. He’ll understand if you leave.
Actually, you don’t care if he doesn’t understand. Satoru is clearly not someone that understands your feelings, and you’re tired of considering how he feels when he can’t keep that same energy toward you.
“I’m leaving. We can do the rest tomorrow during work hours.” You tell him, and he watches as you walk away. He’s glued to the ground, and maybe he should follow to stop you but he can’t.
All the progress you’ve made crumbles to the ground, and he watches it fall right before his eyes. Yet he isn’t too sad. There’s a smile on his lips as his index and middle finger touches his mouth. When you slam the door shut, he’s knocked back into reality and he walks back to his desk. He puts the picture frame that he has of his wife down and opens his desk drawer to pull out a picture.
Eighteen-year-old Satoru with his new girlfriend, right before Satoru leaves for the airport to start his studies abroad. Maybe he should’ve stuck around, gone to the same university as you, things would surely be different. He probably would’ve still been married, but not to Sayo. He probably wouldn’t be in this position though, and now with how unhappy Satoru is, he doesn’t mind the thought. He would leave it within a heartbeat to get back with you, but of course that isn’t possible anymore.
If only he could go back in time and knock some sense into his younger self… But he can’t and he’s left to deal with the consequences of his actions.
You hate coming home so late to find your son sound asleep. It feels like you’re missing so much of his life and it reminds you of yourself, wishing you could spend more time with your own mother who obviously couldn’t since she was working. At least you had Satoru, Ren doesn’t have anyone other than the nanny. You need to quit soon, make an arrangement with Mrs. Gojo about bills and stuff, knowing that she’ll do anything for her grandson. She won’t let you go that easily though.
“I love you, baby.” You mutter as you kiss his temple. You pick him up from the bed and carry him to your room. It won’t matter much, by the morning you’ll be gone. You wonder if he’s beginning to like the nanny better than he likes you simply because he spends so much time with her. The thought does make you feel jealous, so you try to get it out of your head.
At the very least you have to take a vacation with him, go somewhere he really wants to go so you can make more memories together. You don’t want to take the role of his absent mother as well, his father already has that role. Maybe you can take him to the beach before summer is over… That would have to be soon though, fall is just around the corner.
You tuck him into the bed before looking in your drawers for your pajamas and then going to the bathroom to get ready to go to bed. It’s past midnight, and you have to get up early too. You feel so tired yet you know you won’t sleep. The only thought in your mind is Satoru and how he had the audacity to kiss you.
Yet you feel happy. You feel happy because you still deeply care about him even when you try not to. You remind yourself that what he did is wrong since he’s married, even when he acts like he doesn’t care about the marriage. You want no part in whatever the hell is going on there, you’ll be the one that ends up losing if anything happens.
You waste no time doing your nightly routine, cutting some steps since you want to get into bed fast. When you get out of the bathroom, you find Ren sitting up on the bed. He looks around confused, wondering how he ended up in this room. Until he notices you, causing him to get off the bed and run over to hug you. You hug him back, a big smile coming to your face.
“Hi, mommy.” He says. You hadn’t seen him in more than a day, he deeply misses you.
“Hi, Ren.” You answer, you pick him up and carry him back to the bed. “I missed you, baby. I promise we’ll spend a whole entire week together soon.”
“I missed you too.” He responds, his little eyes closing on their own. You tuck him in again, kissing his forehead. You lay down beside him, and you hug him. Thankfully it doesn’t take too long for you to fall asleep.
The next morning you get to work a little later than you’re supposed to, and you’re expected to encounter an enraged Satoru but you don’t care. You’re absolutely done with him, and if he dares to fire you, you’ll leave without a single complaint. The last thing you expect to find there is a vase of white lilies, but that’s what you’re met with.
You don’t have to think twice about who left them there, you immediately know they’re from Satoru. You still look for a card, and it’s buried within the flowers. You read ‘I’m sorry’ with no name, but you can also tell it’s him since it’s his handwriting. You bury it in the same spot before walking to the office. You knock on the door, and you don’t care to get a response before opening it.
“I was wondering when you’d get here.” Satoru says, looking at you as you walk into the office. You shut the door behind you before asking,
“What was the apology for?” And it feels like an eternity for him to answer the question. You know it’s for the kiss but you want to hear it from him. You need him to assure you that it won’t happen again even if part of you wants it to happen again.
“For kissing you.” He answers, and you smile at him. When you’re about to thank him for the apology because you didn’t think he’d be mature enough to take this step. But he opens his mouth again, “Even though I don’t regret it.”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you’re married, Mr. Gojo.” You can’t believe you have to remind him. You truly thought that the man in front of you would result in a loyal husband, either to you or someone else. You didn’t think he’d stoop so low. “You left me to be with her, and now you want to do that to her with me? You’re ridiculous.”
“I guess you’re right–” He begins and you hate the way he starts his response. You can’t hear the rest before you snap,
“You guess? You have no idea how much you’ve hurt me, Satoru. The least you can do is act like a man and stick by your decision.” You slightly raise your voice at him, not caring that you’re in a work setting because he obviously doesn’t care about it. “Look, I don’t give a shit if you want to cheat on her but keep me out of it. You aren’t going to toy with me.”
“Why are you acting like you didn’t give in? You could’ve pulled away immediately but you didn’t.” He argues, and you sigh. He isn’t wrong, but this isn’t about if you did kiss him back or not. You don’t want this to happen again.
“I was tired and didn’t know what I was doing. You initiated it.” You remind him. Your blood begins to boil, and you didn’t think that you’d be having this argument this morning. You didn’t expect any less from him, you aren’t sure why you’re surprised.
“You knew exactly what you were doing–” He begins but the office door opens, and you both turn your attention to the woman that walks inside. His wife stuns, wearing a long black leather skirt with a red blouse. She smiles when she sees you and then at her husband.
“Sorry, I didn’t see anyone so I welcomed myself in.” Sayo says, and you glare at Satoru. You aren’t thinking straight. You and Satoru exchange a look for a minute before you look back at his wife.
“Your husband kissed me last night.” You tell her, and her brows raise. The moment the words leave your mouth you curse yourself for being dumb enough to tell on him– You know how this situation plays out, and you’ll probably be berated even though you aren’t at fault for it. She looks at her husband and then back at you.
“Oh… Okay.” She responds. She looks at her husband, and she keeps staring at him. She clears her throat before asking you in a calm manner, “Could you please leave us for a moment?”
You nod before walking out of the office, cursing yourself for even mentioning it. You want to listen in on their conversation, but in the end it doesn’t matter. The feeling of regret slowly washes away though when you take a seat in your chair. You won’t be affected negatively if you’re fired, after all, Mrs. Gojo is the grandmother of your child. She might not like you, but she won’t let it happen. Even if it happens, she has enough to cover for you and your son.
She won’t take Ren from you because she doesn’t want her son to find out about him, so you’re sure that you’re safe. You’ll be okay even if you get fired.
You try to focus on your job while you still have it, looking up every minute or so to see if Sayo walks out of the office. When she finally does, you tense up. She walks over to you, and you expect her to start yelling at you. But she doesn’t.
“I’m really sorry about him… I have no idea what’s gotten into him.” She apologizes. She looks around for a moment before she lowers her voice, “Could you do me a favor and keep this a secret between us? I don’t want the wrong rumors to spread.”
“Of course, Mrs. Gojo. No worries.” You respond.
“Please call me Sayo, we’re friends.”
Surprisingly enough, Satoru doesn’t need you for the rest of the day. He’s called into a meeting that takes up the entire day, and you’re left to handle everything for the charity event. You can’t verify everything with him, and you choose what you feel is right. Handling all of it alone makes you wonder when you’ll be sent back to work with Shoko, and when Mrs. Gojo will finally get a new secretary for his son. You doubt it’ll happen any time soon.
Most of the afternoon you find yourself staring at the flowers that he left on your desk, and you find yourself indecisive as to what to do with them. They’re beautiful, yet you don’t want them simply because Satoru left them for you.
The fact that Satoru isn’t there, lets you clock out earlier so you can head home to your son. Unluckily for you, just when you’re about to leave, he gets to the office. He leaves the door open so you peek your head in before telling him, “I’m leaving.”
“No. Come inside. We have to talk.” His voice is stern, and while you feel like talking back to him, you feel like you’ve done enough. You’ll just hear him out, and then tell him that you need to drop the subject. What happened last night can’t happen again.
“What is it?” You try to suppress the attitude in your voice but it’s hard to. Luckily for you, he only talks about your job, and he doesn’t bring up the fact that you told his wife that he kissed you. When he verifies everything, he dismisses you.
You rush to the elevator when he does, you don’t want to be there for when he changes his mind. While you wait for the elevator, he walks and stands beside you, but luckily he’s leaving too. You almost choose the stairs to avoid going into the elevator with him, but in the end, you get inside with him.
It’s weird that you’re alone in the lift since so many people are inside it at this hour. But it’s empty now. You stand on opposite sides, and you watch as the elevator doors close. You almost comment on how weird it is to see him leave so early, but you don’t want to initiate any conversation with him.
You glance at each other for a moment, and he clears his throat, putting his hands in his pockets before he shares, “You didn’t get me in trouble, if that’s what you’re wondering. Sayo doesn’t care.”
“What a shame.” You answer, your eyes focused on the tiny screen that tells you which floor the elevator is on. Your response earns a low chuckle from the man. You look at him again, and he’s staring at you.
You look at his eyes, and they immediately remind you of your son. You almost feel guilty as you gaze into his eyes. You’re keeping something so massive from him, something that he wanted as much as you did. You had no way of telling him then, but now he’s in front of you and you choose to keep quiet. You weren’t at fault at first but now you are.
“I’m sorry.” The words slip out of your mouth unintentionally, and of course he doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for. You watch his eyes soften, and he genuinely laughs.
“What? For telling her?” He asks, and you chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to respond. You can’t admit what you’re sorry for. He moves closer to you, close enough for you to touch but he doesn’t. “It’s fine. You did the right thing. I was out of line.”
“That’s nice to hear.” You respond. You stare at each other in silence until the elevator doors open. Before you can walk away he says,
“But I still don’t regret it.”
#[changes]#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x you#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo angst#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo fanfic
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Summary: He already knocked you up, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing to him.
Pairing: Dilf!Seonghwa x fem!reader
Tropes: dilf au, established relationship au
Genre: smut
Rating: R 18+
Warnings: language, pregnancy, aged up!Seonghwa
Smut Warning: unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnant sex, cumplay, clitoral stimulation, fingering, oral (f receive)
Word Count: 1,174
Host Tag: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye
February Filth Masterlist
Before You Interact
Listen to ♡ 3D by Jungkook
Since that week, Seonghwa has had you locked up in your bedroom together. He’s been attached to your hip any chance he’s gotten. About a month after that week in the summer, you found out you were pregnant. Of course, Seonghwa was over the moon and wanted to tell his daughter, but you told him to hold off until you told her mother first. When you and Seonghwa met up with her to inform her of your pregnancy, she had her drawbacks. One, you were the nanny. As far as she knew, you weren’t dating. (Which had changed since the first time she met you). Two, you’re much younger than both of them are. Which isn’t her concern, but she still said it. Regardless, she knew now, which meant you could tell Seonghwa’s daughter. She was over the moon that she was getting a new baby. She was convinced she was getting a sister. She was right.
Seonghwa was the one who was the most vocal about his excitement. It even went as far as a new kink discovery. You both knew about it, but now it was much more present. Since you told him, he’s had an obsession with cumming inside you and watching it drip out. Often times he’ll finger it back into you until you cum again. To say the least, he’s also really enjoying this libido spike induced by your pregnancy.
“Seonghwa,” you whine, nails gripping at his shoulder.
“I got you, love.” He moans in your ear, and out of the corner of your eye, you see the small bits of silver hair growing in by his temple.
You throw your head back against the pillow harder. Seonghwa starts lining small kisses along your neck and shoulder as his slow, smooth thrusts continue at the same pace. You’ve had him in so many different ways over the years of being with him, first as a quick release, then much more. The way he holds you gently and slowly helps an orgasm burn through you has to been one of your favorite ways to have him.
“Such a pretty girl, fuck,” he groans, “You’re so tight and warm around me. Can’t believe I get to be the one who helps you become a mom.”
It’s a silly comment to say during sex, but it warms your heart still. You hold him tighter as if you could get any closer than skin-to-skin. Seonghwa pulls back slightly to capture your lips in a kiss that conveys a thousand emotions in one.
“My pretty fiancée,” he sighs against your lips, “All mine.”
Soon enough, you feel that familiar heat bubbling in your stomach. You don’t need to tell your fiancé what’s impending. He already knows. His hand snakes between your bodies to toy with your clit in just the right way. Your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him there as you ride out your high. Seonghwa’s follows not long after. He cums inside you, making you whimper at the feeling of the warm ropes inside you as you come down from your own high. Seonghwa thrusts shallowly a few more times as he coasts through his high. He starts laughing airly as he comes down from his orgasmic high, still plugging his cum inside you.
“What are you laughing about?” You ask quietly.
He kisses your temple, “Soon enough, we won’t be able to fuck like this. Little Miss is still relatively tiny now, but give it a few months.”
You whine, “Don’t remind me, I’m gonna look like a whale.”
Seonghwa chuckles at you again before pulling back so there’s space between you, but he’s still inside you. You let out a broken, quiet gasp as he starts to pull out. The feeling of his cum trickling out of you is something you could always feel. Some people can’t stand the sensation. You can’t get enough of it. The moment he’s fully pulled out, you’re immediately met with the feeling of his fingers on your clit again.
“So damn pretty with my cum leaking out of you. I could look at your pretty pussy like this forever.”
“Hwa,” you whine, “‘M sensitive.”
“I know, my love. I know. You’re so good for me.”
You watch him and take in the absolute beauty that he is. He has small wrinkles on his eyes from smiling so much and very faint ones on his forehead. As much as he gets annoyed by the small lines, you absolutely adore them. The small pieces of silver hair growing in only add to his beauty in your eyes. You watch as he pushes his fingers into you, pushing his cum back into you. He leans down, eyes fixated on yours as his tongue comes out of his mouth and finds purchase on your abused clit. Your back arches off of the mattress at the sensation. He’ll never admit it out loud, but the taste of your arousal mixed with his cum is something he can’t get enough of, either.
Your hands fly down to lace through his salt and pepper hair. Your engagement ring stands out against his mostly dark locks. It makes the entire situation that much more exhilarating. He’s yours. All yours. And you’re all his. He uses his fingers and tongue in the perfect way that takes you to your second orgasm of the afternoon.
He kisses up your stomach, giving a few extra to your belly, before locking your lips together. You kiss for a while until the feeling of drying cum finally starts to get to you. Seonghwa steps into your en suite to get a damp cloth and clean you up before himself.
Collapsing in bed beside you, he pulls you close—your back against his chest. One hand runs gently over your baby bump while the other fiddles with your fingers and engagement ring. Neither of you speaks for a few moments; the comfortable envelopes you. The only sound that is heard is the sound of your heating system turning on and your breathing.
“Do you think she’ll be like Haeeun?” He mumbles, half asleep.
You smile and giggle lightly, “Maybe we’ll just need to wait a few more months to find out.”
“Four months, two weeks, and four days, to be exact.”
You snuggle closer. Just knowing he tracks your pregnancy as close as you are makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your doctor did say that the butterflies in your stomach randomly could very well be your daughter, too.
“Daddy!” you hear Haeeun call.
Seonghwa chuckles, “She probably wants to cuddle. You get dressed and meet us on the couch, okay?”
“Movie time?” you smile. Seonghwa nods, “I’ll be right there.”
Seonghwa leans over and kisses your lips softly before climbing out of bed to get dressed. You follow right behind him, kissing his shoulder before he walks away.
“I love you, old man.” You tease.
“Watch it, my love.” He playfully chastises, “You may be carrying our baby, but I will still punish you for acting out.”
COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted.
Neworks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity
Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband
#seonghwa smut#cultofdionysusnet#kwritersworldnet#kvanity#joongfryefff24#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa x reader
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Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool
I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14
Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo
Fire away friend
I’m sorry for making you sick : (
✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky
how can a baby control his heart?
summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.
Lord, she looked so much like him.
Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?
It made sense, though. Yin and yang.
Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.
He’d worked enough for today.
Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.
For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.
Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.
His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.
“She’s doing okay?”
As if his little angel would ever be harmed.
“Of course, дорогой.”
He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.
“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”
It was only fair.
You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.
In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.
Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.
He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.
And his Avdotya should have the same experience.
Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.
He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.
Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.
The finale soon came.
He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.
Not an angel like his Dunya.
Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.
Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.
A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.
A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.
Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.
Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.
Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.
While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.
Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?
Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.
He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.
Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.
“My goddess.”
His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.
And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.
And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.
That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.
They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.
But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx
Help this took so long
#bungou stray dogs#bungou gay dogs#aspiring writer#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#chuunai#fanfic#fem reader#baby fever#baby fic#fyodor x reader#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor dostoevsky#bsd tag#bsd imagines#bsd fluff#bsd spoilers
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Steve can’t remember the last time someone kissed him without there being something else it was connected to. It was always leading up to sex or because they felt they had to because Steve wanted to. Never just because they wanted to.
No girlfriend would kiss him on the cheek when they cuddled, barely even a kiss goodbye sometimes. A hookup would stop the kissing at some point to keep it less personal. It was always Steve who instigated the kiss, never his date. Sure, it was expected for the guy to make the first move, but at a certain point, he wished that they would lean in too.
It wasn't even girlfriends who strayed away from kissing Steve. When he was little, his mother would kiss his forehead when she tucked him into bed. Sometimes even give him a kiss on the cheek when he did a good job. When she wasn't around, the nannies would do the same thing. Small little gestures of love through kisses.
But as soon as he turned eight, it all stopped. His dad decided that he was a man and needed to grow up, stop being shown these small signs of affection. It was the same year that his mom stopped staying home often and went with his dad on every business trip, leaving Steve alone for most of the year with his nannies. They would sometimes still give him a small kiss on the head goodnight. But as soon as it was decided that Steve could take care of himself, it all stopped.
He just accepted that it was never going to happen. That he would always be the one to lean in first, reach out for intimacy, leaving it only for the best moment.
Then he started dating Eddie.
Steve was the first one to make a move, finally having enough and just kissing Eddie, breaking the tension the two had been floundering around for months. After that, the dam had broken, and everything became different.
Eddie was never one to stray away from affection before, but this was different. He would lean in for a kiss whenever he felt like it, just because he wanted to. There were no stipulations or something at the moment that would traditionally call for one. He would just walk up to Steve, give him a kiss, and then walk away.
It wasn't even always a kiss on the lips. There were forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek. A quick kiss on his nose or the top of his head. His neck, hands, shoulders. All of it was free space, and Eddie kept filling them up.
Steve asks him one day why he just kisses him without meaning, like it was nothing to it. At first, Eddie is confused, but after some explanation, he understands. He simply says that there is a reason. Because he loves Steve, and Steve deserves to be shown that love. There doesn't have to be a reason for it.
And Steve thinks that's all reason enough.
#I just want Steve to be loved#and Eddie can give him that love#if only we got the chance to see it#steddie#ficlet#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#stranger things#stranger things ficlet
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Historical Indigenous Women & Figures [6]:
Queen Nanny: the leader of the 18th century Maroon community in Jamaica, she led multiple battles in guerrilla war against the British, which included freeing slaves, and raiding plantations, and then later founding the community Nanny Town. There are multiple accounts of Queen Nanny's origins, one claiming that she was of the Akan people from Ghana and escaped slavery before starting rebellions, and others that she was a free person and moved to the Blue Mountains with a community of Taino. Regardless, Queen Nanny solidified her influence among the Indigenous People of Jamaica, and is featured on a Jamaican bank note.
Karimeh Abboud: Born in Bethlehem, Palestine, Karimeh Abboud became interested in photography in 1913 after recieving a camera for her 17th birthday from her Father. Her prestige in professional photography rapidly grew and became high demand, being described as one of the "first female photographers of the Arab World", and in 1924 she described herself as "the only National Photographer".
Georgia Harris: Born to a family of traditional Catawba potters, Harris took up pottery herself, and is credited with preserving traditional Catawba pottery methods due to refusing to use more tourist friendly forms in her work, despite the traditional method being much more labour intensive. Harris spent the rest of her life preserving and passing on the traditional ways of pottery, and was a recipient of a 1997 National Heritage Fellowship awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts, which is the highest honor in the folk and traditional arts in the United States.
Nozugum: known as a folk hero of the Uyghur people, Nozugum was a historical figure in 19th century Kashgar, who joined an uprising and killed her captor before running away. While she was eventually killed after escaping, her story remains a treasured one amongst the Uyghur.
Pampenum: a Sachem of the Wangunk people in what is now called Pennsylvania, Pampenum gained ownership of her mother's land, who had previously intended to sell it to settlers. Not sharing the same plans as her mother, Pampenum attempted to keep these lands in Native control by using the colonial court system to her advantage, including forbidding her descendants from selling the land, and naming the wife of the Mohegan sachem Mahomet I as her heir. Despite that these lands were later sold, Pampenum's efforts did not go unnoticed.
Christine Quintasket: also known as "Humishima", "Mourning Dove", Quintasket was a Sylix author who is credited as being one of the first female Native American authors to write a novel featuring a female protagonist. She used her Sylix name, Humishima, as a pen name, and was inspired to become an author after reading a racist portrayal of Native Americans, & wished to refute this derogatory portrayal. Later in life, she also became active in politics, and helped her tribe to gain money that was owed them.
Rita Pitka Blumenstein: an Alaskan Yup'ik woman who's healing career started at four years old, as she was trained in traditional healing by her grandmother, and then later she became the first certified traditional doctor in Alaska and worked for the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. She later passed on her knowledge to her own daughters. February 17th is known as Rita Pitka Blumenstein day in Alaska, and in 2009 she was one of 50 women inducted into the inaugural class of the Alaska Women's Hall of Fame
Olivia Ward Bush-Banks: a mixed race woman of African American and Montaukett heritage, Banks was a well known author who was a regular contributor to the the first magazine that covered Black American culture, and wrote a column for a New York publication. She wrote of both Native American, and Black American topics and issues, and helped sculptor Richmond Barthé and writer Langston Hughes get their starts during the Harlem Renaissance. She is also credited with preserving Montaukett language and folklore due to her writing in her early career.
part [1], [2], [3], [4], [5] Transphobes & any other bigots need not reblog and are not welcome on my posts.
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