#and that’s not a good way to raise a child and i’m just so constantly upset about it
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I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.
It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶
Laundry Day (fem)
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff
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König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.
König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.
“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”
“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”
“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.
At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.
“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”
“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.
You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”
“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.
You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.
“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”
“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.
You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.
“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.
König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.
“Do you understand?!”
“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.
“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused.
He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next.
Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.
As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.
“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.
“What?”
König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.
“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”
“Sure.”
König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.
“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”
You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”
He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.
“And I’ll never do it again.”
“And?”
“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”
You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.
“Good. I also want a massage.”
“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.
“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”
He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.
#konig#konig x reader#könig#konig cod#konig x y/n#könig x reader#könig cod#könig mw2#konig angst#konig x female reader#konig fluff#könig fluff#fluff#cod konig#konig x you#könig call of duty#könig x y/n#könig x you
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why are so many people texting me at the same time this is terrible /nbh
#have a zoom for writing this stupid script. getting invited to a dinner party in a few weeks. friend texting me about her horror short story#and it’s like. i want to respond to all of these things. but there are too many things happening at once#also can someone braver than me please get it through to my older sister that no means no in ALL contexts#like i don’t care if you’re just poking or playing scary or whatever. if someone tells you to stop you stop#and if you don’t listen you are actively playing a part in this kid learning that what she wants doesn’t matter#and that’s not a good way to raise a child and i’m just so constantly upset about it#and i do my best to tell my younger sister in private like hey you’re in control of your body and people can’t just invade your personal#space if you don’t want them to. but if anyone else would please listen and take some responsibility#because the amount of times people are like ‘quiet down you two’ and my older sister like. reprimands my younger sister. for reacting#it’s just so. if you want lucia to be quiet stop teasing her this is your fucking fault. take responsibility#stop making her feel like she’s asking for things i don’t fucking care the context. raise kids right#so anyway. i’m a little upset about that. and having trouble responding to the many people at once trying to contact me#but now it is time to log on to that zoom call. in around two minutes. so here i go wish me luck#me. my post. mine.#friends only#delete later#ask to tag#vent cement#hello. was trying to say:#vent cw#but that’s the funniest thing so i’m leaving it up
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Hey! i just wanted to say that your work is phenomenal! You got me sobbing in bed at 3 in the morning. I was wondering if I could request a Batfam x child!Wayne!Reader (maybe 4/5 years old) and what they’re all like (individually) when picking her up from school? In her class, they were learning about the great Batman, and all the hard work he does for the city, keeping everybody safe and whatnot. And obviously, she’s too small to know Bruce is Batman.. how would they all react to little baby Wayne rambling about cool Batman who has his own car and sidekick? I’d imagine she’s a very talkative kid, very sweet and friendly, and a very big-Daddy’s girl, but it’s completely up to you.
Thanks for listening to my rambling.. and keep up your awesome work!
Baby Wayne
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Note: This is one of the most adorable requests ever anon! Thank you for requesting and thank you for your kind words. I hope I’ve done your request justice.
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
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BRUCE:
He could see the smile on your face from the doorway. Bright and beaming as you sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward to listen to your teacher. The second you saw him lingering in the doorframe however, the smile grew and you were up on your feet in seconds and tottering over to him.
Wrapping your arms around his legs you hugged him tightly and looked up at him with big eyes. Picking you up and resting you on his hip, Bruce pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Hey sweetheart. Good day?”
You nodded excitedly, clinging to your dad. “We learnt about Batman today!” You exclaimed.
Bruce couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his face. You were still too young to know about his identity and he did well to keep it from you. You were always exploring and wondering off in the manor. He was sure you would make a fine vigilante one day, but for now he was keep to keep you sheltered.
“Oh really?” He raised a brow.
“Yep!” You said, popping the ‘p’. “He’s awesome! He has a cool car and side kicks! And he keeps the city safe! He’s super cool.”
Bruce bounced you up in his arms, savouring the joy in your voice. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.” You nodded. “When I grow up I wanna be just like him Daddy!”
“I’m sure you will be kiddo.” Bruce smiled. “I’m sure you will.”
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DICK:
He was waiting by the school gates, leaning up against the metal framing when your class came piling out of the doors. Bruce was out on a meeting, so he was tasked with collecting you from school, which of course he had no problem doing.
When you saw him, he made his way over slowly, watching as your face lit up at the sight of him and you came running over him with your bag hanging halfway off one shoulder.
“Dick look!” You beamed crashing into him as you ran a little too fast. Moving away you pointed to the yellow and black sticker you had plastered to the hem of the coat.
Dick crouched down to your height. “What you got there, squirt?”
“It’s the bat signal.” You announced proudly. “We learnt about it in class today.”
“You learnt about Batman?” Dick asked. He had wondered how long it would be until you began to learn about what they did.
“Yes we learnt about all of the heroes. But Batman is my favourite because he saves the city and he has a sidekick!” You grinned “Robin! I like him too.”
Dick hid his little grin by tussling your hair. He couldn’t wait for you to learn more.
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JASON:
Seeing Jason picking you up was a nice surprise for you when you finished class. You were ecstatic to see him and ran up to him squealing.
“Jay!” You giggled and he picked up and spun you around in the air. “I missed you.”
He had been away on business. You had constantly been asking Bruce about when you would see him again. You had began to miss his face at home.
“Guess what we’ve been learning about!?”
“Hmm.” Jason bit his lip pretending to think “pirate ballerinas”
You placed a playful hit to his chest with a laugh. “No silly. Batman!”
A-ha. Jason thought. this would be interesting. He wondered how much you had been told, though he doubted no matter how much you had learnt, that you had managed to piece things together.
“Was it good?” He asked you.
“It was great! He saves all of the people and is a real hero!” You said waving your arms animatedly. “He’s so brave!”
“He is.” Jason agreed. “Just like you little Wayne”
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TIM:
Tim found you doodling at one of the tables in the library. You had an array of colours sprawled out in front of you as you scribbled on the pieces of paper infront of you.
He peered over your shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of your drawing. You had draw stick figures, which made it hard to go by but even with your messy doodles he could make out the distinctive domino masks of the Robin and the black of Batman’s suit and cowl. He knew them like the back of his hand, so it was no surprise.
“What you drawing, kiddo?” He asked you.
You gripped the drawing with your hands and held it up proudly to him. “Batman and Robin. We learnt about them in class so I wanted to draw them.”
“It’s very good kid.” Tim told you, handing you back the drawing of the lopsided people only for you to hand it back to him.
“Can we put it on the fridge?” You asked curiously “I want to show it to Dad. I bet he thinks Batman is awesome too!” You blabbed “do you think he will like it, Timmy?”
“I’m sure he will.”
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DAMIAN:
Dami was reading in the library when you plonked yourself beside him. Well…kind of. You struggled up onto the couch first.
“What are you doing?” You frowned, trying to read see over his shoulder.
He was reading up on one of Gotham’s villains that was causing havoc in the city. His first instinct was to shut it so you couldn’t read any of it…but then he remembered that you were still only learning to read.
“I’m reading a book on Batman.” He half-lied, setting the book to one side so you could clamber into his lap.
“Ooh I like Batman too.” You nodded.
Damian frowned. You weren’t supposed to know about that yet. “Where did you learn about him?”
“At school.”
Damian relaxed a little.
“He has a super cool cape! And a big car that he drives really fast around the city to stop the bad guys!”
“Sounds dangerous.” Damian smirked.
“Yes…” you trailed off. “But he is allowed to do it because he is Batman.” You decided.
“Is that right? He teased.
“Yes.
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I hope that was okay! I hope you don’t mind that I changed it a little at the end: I didn’t want it to get too repetitive.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
BATFAM TAGS
@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao
#batfam x reader#Batfamily x reader#dc x reader#batfam x sister reader#batfam x little sister reader#Dick Grayson#dick Grayson x reader#dick grayson x sister reader#dick Grayson x little sister reader#nightwing#Jason Todd#Jason Todd x Reader#jason todd x sister reader#jason todd x brother reader#dick grayson x brother reader#red hood#tim Drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake x little sister reader#tim drake x sister reader#Tim Drake x brother Reader#red Robin#Damian Wayne#Damian Wayne x Reader#damian wayne x sister reader#Robin#Batman#Batman x daughter Reader#Batman x Reader#dc
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Short Days, Long Nights: 17
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Mature (mentions of child loss and grief, aka we go through Joel's past one more time as he says goodbye)
A/N: We are at the end ❤ I am insanely nervous since the whole story was built around this final chapter...I really hope you like it. I am going to make a separate post with all my thank you notes, but for now: @the-scandalorian I literally could not have done this without your guidance and reassurance and constant support. I owe you everything, and I love you. @mrsmando thank you for looking this over for me, for being such an amazingly emotional ride or die and for inspiring me since day one of this fic with your massive brain. I adore you. finally, @bageldaddy thank you for yelling at me in the doc when I needed it, and for your constant Joel advice. You make me better. ❤
Series Masterlist
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“That’s it, honey. You’re doin’ so good.”
“Yea?” Straightening your back, you let your hips roll with the movement under you. The inside of your thighs burning with overuse, your voice is slightly breathless. “Like this?”
“It’s like you’re a natural,” he muses, giving you a wink.
“I don’t know about that.”
A trampled path guides the horse more than you do, a circle carved into the grass in front of the cabin and you let out a breath, feeling yourself relax for the first time since you first climbed on.
He didn’t believe you when you’d said you’d never been on a horse until you stood next to it, terrified. He had helped you up that day, climbing into the saddle behind you. When he noticed that you were paying more attention to the way his broad body encased yours from behind, he cut the lesson short with a teasing scold.
Only to continue it in the bedroom later that night.
He’s silent for a moment as he walks next to you, until June’s babble from the edge of the field calls out across the space.
“See?” he says. “She thinks so too.”
She starts to crawl towards the two of you, and Joel is quick to stride over, picking her up.
“I feel like I got the hang of it,” you say tentatively. “I’m not sure what to do if I have to take off on it though.” You look at him, the scenario only now occurring to you. “Hang on. What if I’m holding her and we have to run? How will I hang onto her and the horse? How –”
His hand comes to rest reassuringly on your thigh with a squeeze, stopping you.
“Don’ focus on that right now.” He shifts June in the crook of his elbow so that her outstretched hands can touch the horse. “Just focus on learnin’ the basics. When she’s down for her nap, I’ll get on with you and we can practice goin’ faster. Okay?”
He holds your gaze for a moment, sunlight catching the brown in his irises and curls. He raises his eyebrows in question, and you nod.
“Okay. Yea, okay.”
Giving the horse a pat on its neck, you let June brush her hands over its coat. Her tiny fingers dig in, pinching the animal in exploration.
“Easy, baby girl. Easy,” Joel murmurs. “You gotta be gentle. Like this.”
He takes her hand in his, petting the horse. Having no patience for the slow movement, she tugs her hand free to make a quick grab for the animal, and he chuckles, stepping back - only for her to erupt into a wail.
“Aw come on. Don’ gimme those crocodile tears, baby.”
Lifting her into the air, he holds her above his head and looks up at her scrunched face. His biceps strain the sleeves of his t-shirt, his curls fluttering in the breeze as he suspends her until her cries turn into whimpers, then giggles. Only then does he bring her down, kissing her on the cheek.
“I knew you were fakin’.”
–
The plan was to leave tomorrow, at first light.
Weathering weeks of up and down emotions, you’ve been constantly wavering between wanting to follow the others in hopes of finding somewhere safer for June and being terrified that you’re making the wrong decision. A silent war within yourself, always waging as you prepared.
When it was just you and Joel, there were times that you had been afraid. You had eventually made peace with the idea that something might happen to you, even though you would have fought with everything you had to prevent it. The fear you feel now, however, is on a whole other level. Something more base, coming from deep within you.
It’s so much harder with June. So much more left to lose, so much more at stake.
A bone-deep type of fear that took root in you the moment you realized you were pregnant, it only grew until it was something overwhelming. Something that choked you with nerves the day she came into this world. Something that reached down into the heart of you and grabbed hold of reserves you never knew you had. Something that turned you into another person entirely when you thought about anything happening to her - a very real possibility given the unknown you were willingly venturing into.
In comparison, Joel seemed…calm. Always the case when he had a clear direction and a purpose, you couldn’t tell if it was because he truly believed this was the right thing or just because he was so caught up in the planning of it all.
Plants harvested and then pulled up to save the root system, seeds meticulously dried and saved in scraps of paper, everything protected with as much safe keeping as you could provide it. Stores of food organized and packed in makeshift saddle bags, clothing and rags for diapers and two sleeping bags and medicine and first aid supplies and knives and anything else you could think of that might be useful, already accounted for and packed away.
All of it placed by the front door, waiting.
You run down the mental list one more time while rocking June, eventually placing her in the crib after cradling the soft, warm weight of her sleeping body for a moment.
“She go down okay?” Joel looks up from his place on the bed, the lantern glowing warm edges around the curve of his shoulders. The light splays across his skin, and he sets his book to the side.
“Yea, she was just a little fussy.” Yawning, you crawl into bed next to him. “I think she can feel something in the air. Our nerves or something.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
Sliding down under the quilt, you watch the shift of his muscles as he stretches to turn out the light. Joining you, he rolls on his side so you’re face to face.
Getting comfortable, you scoot closer. “So. Our last night.”
“Looks like it,” he replies, grasping your hand. He runs your knuckles over the seam of his lips, giving them a kiss.
“Are you nervous?”
He considers for a moment. “Yea. I know it’s time, but I can’t say I’m ready for what’s waiting out there.”
You nod.
Content silence rests between you, a cricket chirping right outside the window, the gentle current joining the rustle of leaves as they stir in the warm night air. Your fingers play idly with the sparse hair that covers his chest, and he watches you in the darkness.
“Are we doing the right thing?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.
“It’s a little late for that, honey,” he teases, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. When you don’t reply, his tone softens and he continues. “Hey now. We are. I know it.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure. I don’t know if anyone is with any decision they make, honey. ‘Specially not parents. You can only hope, ya know?”
You draw your lip between your teeth, and he gently plucks it out with his thumb. Guiding your face to his in the darkness, he runs his touch across your cheek, stroking the soft curve.
“Look at me.”
He’s right there, holding your gaze. Brown irises turned black in the dark room, holding you steady. There, like he’s always been.
“This is the right thing. I know just as well as you that there is plenty out there to be afraid of, but I got you. I got you both. I ain’t gonna let anything happen.”
A tear slips from the corner of your eye, dampening the pillow case. Your fears getting the best of you, words come pouring out.
“What if she crawls away while we are sleeping, or what if she gets sick? What if someone tracks us, and tries to take what we have?” You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. “If something happens to either of you, I –”
You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, and he’s gathering you in his arms, pulling you close. The steady thump of his heartbeat underneath your cheek greets you, and you bury your face in the soft crook of his neck.
“I know we have to, but I don’t want to leave. This is our home.”
He softly shushes you. “We’ll make a new one. Together.”
Cradling your head in his hand, he lets you cry, his fingers stroking over the crown of your hair. Wrapped in his hold, you let it all pour out: not deep, shuddering cries of despair but rather the silent cries of mourning, of nerves strung too tight for weeks.
His hand slips down to rub between your shoulder blades and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to commit everything about this moment to memory: the mattress underneath you, the heat of his body, the husky rumble of his voice. The soft sheets and the worn blankets that have held the heat of your naked bodies countless times. His side of the bed that smells like him, his things on the nightstand, the feel of him in the middle of the night when it’s too dark to see. The scratch of his beard against your palm when you sling your arm over him in the night, just to find the bare patch along his jaw with your fingertips.
You think about everything that’s ever happened in this bed: his confession about Sarah, the intimacies you’ve shared with each other under the safe veil of darkness. Sounds that these walls have absorbed night after night: his low chuckles and his murmured praises and his endless, reassuring love.
When you’re done, Joel guides you back down into the mattress, using his hold on you to close the distance between your mouths. A gentle kiss for your lips, then your nose, then each one of your tear damp eyelids before finding your mouth again.
You shift up, giving him access to deepen it as his tongue slides against yours, your body arching into the familiar taste and path of his kisses. Your fingers thread through his hair, slip down the breadth of his back, and curl around the back of his arms.
Your thighs hug his hips, his head dipping to find more of your skin. Laving the edge of your jaw, he gives your throat an open mouthed kiss as his hand pushes your sleep shirt up. Up, up, exposing the bare skin over your sternum and when his lips find your nipple, he draws into his mouth with a reverential suck. He laves his tongue over and around it, playing with the stiff bud as he rocks his hips into yours and when his teeth gently scrape, a moan catches in the back of your throat.
The last time you’re ever going to feel him in this bed, you savor it.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groans softly when his fingers find your slick warmth.
“So do you,” you breathe, reaching down to guide his fingers inside you. They slip in with a slick, snug stretch, and he rests his forehead along the plane of your chest, watching your hand move with his. Crooking his touch to reach a spot that makes you keen, he rubs against it and you muffle your sounds against the firm round of his shoulder.
Quiet. You have to be quiet.
“Fuck me,” you plead against his skin, and he works his fingers faster, pulling back to watch your face.
“I wanna make you come like this first. Gonna be awhile before I can take my time with you again.”
You say nothing, the air seizing in your lungs as you arch into the tight, syrupy warmth he’s building inside you. Clenching around his fingers, you’re tipped over the edge by the heft of his stiff cock rocking against your thigh.
“There’s my girl,” he praises.
His words wash over your heated skin, his eyes flashing in the dark. Slipping his fingers from you to drag damp over your skin, he pushes your legs open to make room for himself.
–
Leaving you sated and asleep, he slips from bed as quietly as he can, stepping out into the inky night. Tugging a sweatshirt over his head, his feet are bare, the hem of his pajama pants skimming the grass as he walks down to the shore.
A simple handmade cross made from the leftover wood from June’s cradle is gripped in his hand.
He kneels and taking his time, begins to delicately smooth out a patch of sandy earth. His fingers pluck away wayward strands of grass and toss out tiny pebbles until it’s cleared. A stack of stones he’s been gathering for the last few weeks rests in a pile nearby, waiting.
Satisfied, he rests back on his heels.
“Hey, baby girl.”
Silence greets him, and content with that response, he continues.
“We’re leavin’ tomorrow.”
Reaching for the biggest stone, he turns and sets it just at the edge of the lapping water. He then balances the next one on top, slightly smaller than the one underneath it.
“I’m not sure when we’ll be back, if we’ll ever be. But I’m gonna mark a spot for you just in case. My favorite spot.”
He adjusts a third stone on top of the others, his hand lingering to make sure it stays put.
“I never got to –” he starts, steadying himself. “I never had a spot for you. Just kept you in my head, and in my heart.” He holds the fourth stone in his hand, looking at it. “I always wanted a place to visit you. A place to come to when I missed you, a place to talk to you.”
He sniffles, using his knuckle to wipe at a tear that slips free and then places the stone on top of the others.
“Now I know that you’re always listenin’.”
The water washes over the base of the stones, the ripples sparkling in the moonlight and he finishes the cairn in silence, listening to the sounds around him. When he’s done, he looks up, and stares at the expanse of stars above him.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. His voice wavers, and he swallows hard. “For everything. I know you know this, but I’ll – I’m always thinkin’ about you. I’ll always be here when you need me, okay? I will never stop bein’ your dad.”
A few more tears roll down his face, and he lets them go. The corner of his mouth eventually lifting, he clears his throat.
“Maybe you could watch over your sister for me, make sure she doesn’t get into any trouble on this trip? Sometimes she gets this smile on her face and it’s just like the one you used to get.” A low chuckle slips free, and he hangs his head with a shake. “It's like I know she’s about to do somethin’ that she ain’t supposed to do, and all…''
The rueful smile on his face softens, his voice lowering with a rasp.
“All I see is you.”
More tears come, silent paths gliding down his face and he sits alone with his thoughts then, on the edge of the river.
That night comes back to him: the sheer terror he felt, the despair, the helplessness. The rage that filled him when he woke to find out that her body had been left behind, twisted and broken and all alone in the dirt somewhere. Like no one even cared to bury her, even if he knew that wasn’t the case.
The blur of black days that followed her death, when he longed to join her.
The weight of the gun in his grip, the thud it made when he whipped it at the wall with a scream when he missed.
All the years after, trying to lock the memory of her away. The shadow of a person he became, all the things he did without an ounce of regret.
A man with nothing to lose, because he’d already lost it all.
When his tears dry, he looks up at the sky again and finally, he remembers a different memory.
A warm night sky just like this one, the slippery cushion of a sleeping bag under his back and a petite, squirmy body stretched out next to him.
“What’s that one, dad?” A swirl of stars above them, her small finger points at the brightest one.
She sits up, the silhouette of her unruly curls calling to him and he brushes his hand through the soft texture of it, making up a name.
“Dad! Stop it,” she laughs. “For real. What is it?”
He makes up another one, and the girlish peal of her laugh echoes in the dark; the kitchen light from the house glowing behind them.
Still feeling her curls against his palm, he takes the cross in his hand, and pushes the bottom of it into the dirt. Standing with a soft grunt, he brushes the sand from his knees and looks at it for a moment.
A tiny thing, shadowed by the protection of a tree.
Protected and safe, finally.
“I love you, baby girl.”
With one last look at the cross, he makes his way slowly back up to the cabin.
–
With June secured to your front, you walk around the inside of the cabin one last time.
Domestic warmth infused in every room, items you have to leave behind paint a picture of the people that lived here: the westerns he read in his early days of avoiding his want for you stacked next to his side of the bed. The flowered quilt that you tucked yourself under on rainy days spread over the mattress. The bathroom, with its neatly folded yet mismatched hand towels draped over the bar next to the sink.
The living room, with the dust that once coated everything gone, and the kitchen, with a neat row of washed pots lined up next to the dish rack that holds a mug used this morning.
The clean windows that would let in the bright sun, save for the tarp along the back that has been secured in place.
Even the strangers that line the hallway live in cleaned frames, and walking past them, you wander into June’s bedroom to take one last look at her cradle. Impossible to bring with you, it hurts the most to leave behind. You’re still looking at it when Joel comes in from outside, calling your name.
“In here,” you call back, and he comes to stand behind you, curling his hands around your hips. You lean back into him, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, reading your mind.
“I’ll make her a new one, honey. I promise.”
You turn and give him a watery smile, and he presses his lips to your forehead.
“A big girl bed this time, I think,” he coos down at June, and she reaches for him, fussing when he doesn’t pick her up.
Cradling her squirming body, you follow Joel outside.
Next to the porch, the horse shifts under the weight of the saddle bags, stomping her feet and you watch as Joel soothes her, sliding his hand down over her coat. Ropes securing everything, she is weighted with your belongings and with the plan to walk beside her as much as possible, you start to untie her reins while he closes the front door.
The original tarp that covered it is dragged back into place, and when everything is as it was on that first day you found it, he gives it one last look.
Coming to join you with his rifle slung over his shoulder, he takes the reins.
“You ready?”
At the sound of his voice, June looks at him and smiles, a tiny dimple piercing her chubby cheek. He returns it, reaching out to grasp her foot with a wiggle.
“Are you?” you ask. Your brow knit with gentle concern, you nudge your chin towards the water.
“Your spot is beautiful, by the way,” you say softly. “June and I said goodbye this morning. It’s perfect for her.”
He says nothing, gratitude spilling from the depths of his eyes. Looking at you for a long time, he then leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
“I guess time heals all wounds,” you muse, thinking of the man you came here with and he pulls back.
Looking down at you both, his expression turns into a sort of solemn earnestness.
“It wasn’t time that did it.”
Your fingers locked in June’s fist, she pulls them into her mouth for a nibble and his hand reaches up to stroke the curve of her cheek, and then your own before leaning in for a kiss.
Walking away from the cabin, you look back when you reach the far edge of the original path that brought you here: the only visible indication of the structure a slice of muted, dingy blue in a sea of lush green. Leaves crunch underfoot as you walk beside him, the slope of his broad shoulders a map that you’ve always followed without question. With another couple steps, the cabin disappears from view.
Looking forward, you lace your fingers with his and walk.
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller/you#joel miller/reader#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction
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Just a Little Taste
A/N: Welp. Somehow my breeding/breastfeeding kinks manifested themselves into a story. I wrote this sky high on painkillers and I am a little in love with the whole premise. @tiredmamaissy -I hope more than anything that you enjoy this. You deserve all of the goodness on this site. Your Masterlist is my personal spank bank lol
Word Count: 3k+
Warnings: This story is Filthy. Smut with very little plot. Breastfeeding. Pussy Eating. Slight mommy kink if you squint. Very pregnant reader getting pleasured, because pregnant beings can still be sexual. Aged up!Neteyam
You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.
Summary: You’re eight months pregnant with Neteyams child, and after a long day, you both need a little relief. Neteyam x Human! Reader
"Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea
Bumble-bee on the scene.
Yeah, I'd give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie"
- See You Again, Tyler the Creator ft Kali Uchis
Life in the village is always busy. Constantly bustling with life and movement as everyone; human scientist, Avatar and Na’vi alike, rush to keep things afloat.
High Camp is so different then Home Tree had been, the rage of war adding a constant edge to long days and restless nights. You miss the comfort of a slow life, of hazy days down in the jungle. The jagged cliffs of the Hallelujah Mountains still don’t quite feel like home to you.
Still, you go about your daily duties.
Being a Pandoran raised human had always given you a different insight, the two massively different cultures you we’re brought up in clashing and mending to create a skill set that was like no other- it had taken many years of painful trial and error to find your place within the Omiticaya, but healing had always come naturally.
Both holistic and surgical alike. You’d spent years shadowing Mo’at and learning the ancient herbal ways of the people, while well as taking advantage of the many PHD toting scientist back at Hell’s Gate. Medicine had no boundaries, was a way for you to feel close to both sides of yourself. To broach the gap between human and clansman.
You find your skills being needed more than ever. The ever constant raids against the RDA means your hands are rarely idle, forever in movement as you tend to the wounded. Some days you sit in the big Healers Tent with Mo’at and the other Taskarem, and others you’re in the makeshift Medi Bay, which is really more of an Avatar Pod Trailer turned OR, with the handful of human surgeons.
The long hours spent on your feet leave you sore and exhausted, but you have to pull your weight.
Even if said weight is far heavier than usual as of late-
“Y/N” you’re broken out of your thoughts by Max- as he enters the trailer with a holo-tab in hand and a concerned look in his dark eyes “What are you still doing here?”
“I was just finishing up inventory- our antibiotic stock is back way up. Jake was right, those helicopter raids were more than worth it” you’d sorted out the tiny vials of vital medicine by hand, not wanting any to be misplaced or mislabeled.
“You don't think maybe you should head home?” He continues and you sigh.
You miss your tent, and the soft bed of furs that lay inside the secure warm flaps. And the man that waits for you inside of the patchwork leather walls-
“I’m fine” you assure. And really, you are.
It's a fact you have to keep reminding people of.
Yes, you’re as big as a Strumbeast, but you are no less competent. No less able bodied.
Pregnancy is one of the most natural parts of life, a base staple in all’s existence. There are plenty of pregnant Omiticaya women who were expected to play their roles, even as the battle raged outside the safety of the mountain cave system.
It was the nature of your pregnancy that was more…fragile then average. Inside your womb grew a child that would be the first of it’s kind. A scientific mystery: no one had even known it was possible for Na’vi and humans to procreate.
And yet all of the evidence now lies under your shirt. Your stomach round and pronounced, full of growing life.
Full of the love between you and the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son.
Neteyam had left his permanent mark on you. Had part of himself growing inside of you. The thoughts we’re enough to make your knees buckle if you focused on them too hard.
“You’ve been here since 6am, you really should get some rest. Take one of the empty bunks if you want. Have you checked your blood pressure-”
You’re a grown woman. You’re not going to huff and puff and roll your eyes, but fuck, do you want to.
Everyone was so overbearing lately.
Norm and Max we’re constantly breathing down your neck; “The baby has a different growth rate then a human child, we need to monitor the way that your body is responding” Followed closely by Jake who watches you with sharp eagle like eyes and Neytiri, who used to all but ignore your presence, constantly checking in on you throughout the day. Mo’at’s always poking and prodigy, and Kiri almost always has her hands on you in some way shape or form.
You are glad for the support, happy that this baby would be so loved.
But really, you missed being treated like the competent, independent woman you knew you we’re.
“My blood pressure is fine. I thought since we ruled out preeclampsia we weren’t going to worry about it anymore” you know that it’s not going to silence his worry, but still. You can try.
Max goes on one of his science mambo jumbo spiels, and by the end of it you’re waddling out of the lab and back to your hut, annoyed as shit but placating your pseudo father figure all the same. Only a month and a half mor of this and then things could go back to normal.
Everything had just…changed so quickly.
You 're a caretaker by nature. Caring for others is easy, feels right. You’d tucked the much older scientists into bed when you we’re just a pre-teen. Made dinners. Looked out for Spider and the other Sully’s-
And the role reversal still didn't quite sit right with you. Your control freak ways didn't do well with not being the one in charge- you’d been stripped of your title so to speak. You we’re supposed to relax into your new role, enjoy being doted over before the nine month’s we’re over.
You and Neteyam’s shared tent is in the centered in the cave, close to his families, but standing on its own. As private as anyone could get in the busy, close quartered camp. The walls of the hut are familiar, adorned with your combined belongings. Cozy and familiar.
You shimmy free of your confining bra, step out of your cargo pants, then toe off your boots, releasing your swollen sock covered feet with a groan before collapsing into your well loved bed, the soft blankets and familiar scent of your mate lulling you into a deep state of peace.
It’s kind of wild how quickly you can fall asleep these days. Growing a little person from scratch tends to burn a lot of energy and the moment you relax, you’re out like a light.
You don't wake up, even when the horns are sounded for the return of the War Party.
Not when Neteyam makes his way through the camp and enters the tent. He’s wearty, grime covered and hunched over. He only softens when he sees you, tucked safely, into his bed. Your eyes still closed and face still scrunched up as he strips out of his battle band and shin covers. He’s quiet, washing off with the large freshwater basin in the corner before making his way over to his much-missed bed mat.
It isn't until he's crawled under the blankets and wiggled his way as close to you as possible that you begin to stir. His large cat like snout nuzzles into the vulnerable crevice of your neck, chuffing hot breaths against the smooth skin.
You’re not upset at him for waking you up, a drowsy half alert smile stretches over your lips as your hands run up his strong back. Gently working the tense muscles.
He gets so greedy when he comes back from the War runs. He needs to be comforted, to be held and you are all too willing to comply.
Everyone else infantiles you now, and yeah, Neteyam could get a little intense and overprotective, but your relationship had always worked because you were the one person in all of Pandora that babied the future chief.
He was such a sweet man, with so much responsibility on his plate. You loved nothing more than holding him in your arms. Letting him release any and all tension because you had him. You, a tiny soft skinned human, were the barrier between him and the ruthless world.
You’d be such a great mother to his children. His hind brain purrs at the thought. That even through all of the controversy, he knows he’d chosen the right mate. Little and fierce, he hopes the baby is just like you.
“Are you okay?” You ask, tone hushed in the darkness of the tent. The only light coming from the small dying embers of the firepit in the center of the space. Hypnotic shadows dance along the canvas walls and Neteyam's breathing grows shallow as he sinks into it.
The way you smell. The way your heart beats, strong against his cheek. The way your plump body feels so good under his wandering hands. He hadn't been okay, just moments ago. He was delirious, so sick of the fighting that he felt ill with it.
But how could any of those bad feelings exist when he had you waiting for him? Ready to welcome him into your body, your heart, your mind. He doesn't think he could survive without knowing the solace of your love.
“I’m okay, narlor(beauty). Just missed you” he mutters, still trying to dig his face deeper into your skin. He wants to escape inside of you, you chuckle at his futile attempts to mend you both into one entity. His large palms rest against your bloated belly, tenderly and your heart flutters “Missed you both so much”
Being so loved is overwhelming.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
“I missed you, my sweet baby. I missed you all day” you assure him with the words you know he needs to hear. “Our son here thought it would be fun to jump on his sa’nok’s bladder all day. It was like was playing the wokau(pendulum drum) all day long- I spent hours in running back and forth to the bathroom”
Neteyam's laugh is deep and rich. Thoroughly pleased to listen to your stories of your day, eager to hear every minute detail. Desperate to drown out visions of blood and gun smoke with your voice.
“Ah, you have to be nice to your momma, little one” he chastises the bump, raising your shirt over your head, wanting that flimsy barrier gone. His lips trail over the tight skin of your bulging belly as he speaks to his child.
Your son, still safe inside your soft body, knows his fathers voice already. Recognizes that slightly accented cadence, and squirms inside of you happily.
Neteyam usually speaks strictly in Na’vi to your unborn child-
“He needs to know the language of our people, first and foremost”
-he’ll spend hours whispering his mother tongue into your flesh. It always leaves you boneless and shaking. Feeling so special and cared for. Na’vi, though your second language, is familiar to you. You’re fluent in the language- but fuck. The way your mate speaks it is the most beautiful thing. It’s musical, he tells sprawling stories with his colorful words.
There is one English he’s very fond of though. Every time it leaves his plush mouth it makes you grin, sharp. Knowingly.
“Are you gonna be nice to momma, Neteyam?” you question him after a while. His ears quirk, swiveling on his head and his tale flicks once, in obvious excitement.
You know what he’s wanted, ever since he woke you up by nuzzling at your chest. Ever since he peeled off your top and left your heavy breasts bare. Did he think you missed the way his golden gaze would flick to them, eyeing them hungrily.
He needs this as much as you do, but as usual, your sweet boy is too selfless to ask. Won't trouble you with his wants unless you bring it up first.
You reach for his big hand that rests on your belly, and drag it to where you need him. His palm enveloping your tits, the rough callus’s catching on your sensitive nipple just right-
Your pregnancy had been different than regular humanoid pregnancies. Your body worked hard, thrown into overdrive in an attempt to keep up with the fast growing fetus in your womb. You’d started lactating months ago, far earlier then normal. Your breasts firm, full with milk. Ready to feed the child that had not yet come into the world.
At first it had been both painful and embarrassing. You had no child to drink what you were producing and the other breastfeeding women in the tribe we’re hesitant to feed their babies your tawtute(human) milk. Already over emotional due to the hormone change, you’d wept at the fact that you had no one to give what your body readily made.
The fact that you couldn't be a bigger part of your community due to your human heritage, combined with the intense pain that came from having backed up ducts had been too much,
Eventually you’d turned to Neteyam, both your eyes and shirt soaking wet. Begged him to help you. And of course, as always, he did.
It should be awkward, or shameful- but connecting with him on any level is something you cherish. Why would this be any different?
“I’m always nice to you, aren't I, love?” Neteyam gruffs as he gently works at the breast in his hands. Its firm and full of milk, his mouth waters “Do they hurt again?”
“Mhmm” you whine pathetically, and you’re not lying. The skin of your chest is now marred by stretch marks and you’d had to stuff precious, hard to come by toilet paper down your bra all day to keep them from spilling over “They’re so full, Nete”
“Oh” He hums, thumbing at your nipple “Poor momma, I’ll help you. Don't worry” his lips are wet against your skin as he kisses his way to your breast, his tongue peeking out to circle your puffy nipple. A pearlescent drop of milk tops the rosy bud and he groans as it hits his taste buds.
He tells you that you taste good, often. The juices of your pussy, your spit soaked kisses. He’s always been greedy for it, his tongue bullying its way into your holes, desperate for your essence. Your milk is just as delicious as the rest of you.
It quickly goes from kitten licking, wide wet stripes against your pebbled nipple to sucking your big breast as far into his mouth as he could. Careful of his fangs as he gorges himself on your flesh.
He’s loudly appreciative as he suckles on your nipple. Grunting and humming and moaning at the flavor. Your arms come around him, cradling his head to your bosom because it feels so good. Having him this close, knowing that he'd do anything to take care of you. That he truly loved the way you tasted-
Many people thought you and Neteyam would never last. It was lust, they’d claim. Curiosity. A childhood friendship that would fizzle out eventually. Na’vi needed Tsaheylu, it was the lifeblood of all their relationships. Why would the much desired future Olo’eyktan stay with you if he couldn't even properly bond you?
While you couldn't deny that there we’re doubt filled moments that you yourself wondered why he’d chosen you and stayed so loyal to you…you still felt your own form of connection to him. While you’d love to make that sacred bond with him, you didn't feel any less close to your mate.
You never thought that you could be so intertwined with another being.
As Neteyam takes his fill from your breast, you massage the base of his Kuru, firm enough that it makes him hiss. You have no special braid of your own, but he’s always been very free with his when it comes to you.
You can do with as you please. Stroke it. Lick it. Massage it. Hell, he’d even let you touch glowing pink tendrils at the end of it before. Let you feel his exposed nerves, so vulnerable and raw in your hands that he had shed tears as you explored.
Nothing was taboo in your relationship. There was no space undiscovered between you.
Your bodies we’re so very different, and yet you knew his like the back of your hand. All of the strong muscles and hard sinew. The cobalt expanse of his skin didn't have one blemish that you haven't memorized. You could point out his striped pattern in a sea of other Na’vi.
And he knows you right back.
Loves to dig his fingers into your doughy hips, into your pillowy thighs. Your wide ass and ample chest. He loves your form, goes crazy for all of your alien curves. He never cared for your human modesty, he’d wanted to part your ass cheeks and stare at plump of your pussy for as long as he could remember. Wanted to strip you of all of those clothes and just stare.
The fact that he gets to do just that, for the rest of your lives, is his favorite, favorite thing.
You watch him eagerly as he slowly nurses. You can't get enough of the sight of him, his hollowed cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows your free flowing milk. He's so strong, his muscles flex in the dim light. All of that strength, and yet he’s so very gentle with you, his rough tongue laving at your sore buds every couple minutes. Soothing and tickling you all the same.
You giggle at a particularly quick swipe, letting out a small squeal as Neteyam’s tongue plays with the flesh in his mouth. His eyes peek open, glittering with mirth and low boiling heat as he meets your gaze. Whin his lips split into a smile, a dribble of translucent white milk escapes. Trickles down from the corners of his lips.
Heat pulses between your legs and you know he can smell how aroused you are.
Neteyam has always been able to turn you on without even trying. A well spoken word, or even a pointed look could get you running your thighs together. All desperate to get him alone and put your hands all over him.
You hate that you cant kiss him the way you want to, your Exo Mask, while necessary to your survival can be suck a fucking menace sometimes.
Your thumb traces his lips, the ones you want pressed against your own so bad. You rub the spilled milk from his chin. Cleaning him up in a way that's so simple, and so beyond erotic.
He breaks eye contact first, like he just can't look at you anymore. His brows all scrunched up, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He releases your sloppy nipple, completely covered in his saliva, and presses his face against the damp skin. Making a sound of distress.
Your fingernails skritch at his scalp, tangled in his many braids “What is it, baby?”
“I wanna fuck you so bad. Eywa, do you even smell yourself, Y/N? So good. I have to-”
“Yeah, yeah, okay” You nod, agreeing blindly. He can have whatever he wants.
“Fuck you hard, though. Gotta pound you. I know I shouldn't but it’ll be alright, huh? Won't hurt the baby?” his face is still buried in your skin, you cant even see his expression as he pleads for your pussy. It makes you so hot.
You push at his chest, needing him to get off of you for just a moment. He’s heavy as shit, a dead weight- doesn't really move until you're pouting and demanding for him to just give you a little space.
Enough that you can wiggle out of your panties and spread your thighs wide for him. Your swollen, sticky pussy on display for your mate.
His nostrils flare, and his thin tail whips wildly behind him.
When he swings your thick thighs up onto his broad shoulders, you let out a low, appreciative moan.
“Such a good boy for momma” you praise him the way the people praise the Great Mother. The cradle of your thighs a sanctuary where you both come to worship.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Welp, I should be finishing up Part Three of First Love/Late Spring or plotting out future installments of The Sweetest Sylaung, but here I am writing nursing filth. Lol I truly have zero regrets, this story was so very self fulfilling(even though it partially came from a request). I hope you guys enjoyed though
As mentioned many times before, requests are currently open. Please send in all that good shit. I could use a good distraction from real life!
#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader#neteyam x human reader#neteyam sully smut#aged up neteyam#Neteyam x pregnant reader
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Breeding Kink Ghost Headcanons. Go.
Warnings: Breeding Kink!Ghost, AFAB!Reader/Genitalia, Unprotected Sex, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Creampies, Lactation Kink, Dirty Talk
Author's Note: A request after my own heart. 😩 I didn't know how to write the reader so I made them AFAB (I hope that's okay).
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
(I’m unashamed to say Simon/Ghost with a breeding kink lives in my mind rent free).
I think his traumatic childhood would make him weary when it came to kids.
Don't get him wrong, Simon loves kids. He will gladly give a friend's child a piggyback ride or tell them his awful dad jokes. He wishes he knew more about how to raise a child of his own, but most of what he knows is how to not treat children (thanks to his jerk of a father).
Both of you talked about having kids, but he'd always hesitate. He honestly didn’t want to bring children into this world. It made his heart ache to think of a young, innocent child possibly being exposed to the horrors that he’s seen (and done).
Babies love him, ironically enough. They always stare and reach for him whenever he’s out.
“Aw, look Si! They want you!” you giggled. His eyes flicked over to the baby gurgling in a shopping cart nearby, their chubby hands grasping towards him. He sincerely doubted your claim, since he was wearing his balaclava out in public and the mom's in the grocery store cast him weary glances from time to time. “Maybe they want you,” he replied, playfully nudging your shoulder. You chuckled and squeezed his hand, the baby squealing for him as his mother quickly pushed the cart away.
It wasn’t until he took you raw one night that something primal in him snapped and rose to the surface.
"Si?" you asked, slightly out of breath. His eyes were locked onto your cunt, his cum oozing out of your puckering entrance. He pressed his fingers down between your lips, slowly shoving his seed back inside you. You arched your back and moaned at how his fingers threatened to push it all the way into your empty womb.
Now he can't help but think about filling you with his cum constantly.
He won't argue if you want to stay on birth control or ask him to use protection, but that feral hunger is always at the forefront of his mind every time you make love.
His favorite place to take you is the bedroom, because he can completely fold you into a mating press while he fucks his spend into your sopping cunt.
You're eyes grow wide when Simon tells you he's finally ready to have kids. He doesn't waste a moment, either, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom.
“Can’t wait to see you all round with our baby,” Simon growls as his thick cock pistons into you. Your fingernails rake down his back, thick cum from his previous orgasms sloshing around inside your gummy walls. Drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth, your eyes glazed over. “Please Si, can’t-” you choked as your fourth orgasm ripped through you. His hands gripped your calves, his cock feverishly slipping through your swollen folds. “You can do it, love. Just one more,” your husband panted.
It wasn’t long before you showed him a positive pregnancy test. To say he was elated would be an understatement. He couldn’t wait to see you swollen with his child, tits sensitive and leaking with fresh milk.
His sex drive never yielded after you told him. Simon would fuck you with his cock during your early stages of pregnancy, but he would offer to finger you or eat you out just as passionately if you were more comfortable with that.
“Your pussy always tastes so good, sweetheart,” he groaned before going back to lap at your folds. You were well into your third trimester, womb full and almost ready to pop. Your toes curled as his hands snaked up to your breasts, tweaking your nipples until beads of milk began to drip out and smear over his fingertips. You moaned when he slid his milk-coated digits into his mouth, his dark eyes locking with yours. You swallowed thickly when he released his fingers with a wet 'pop'. “Fucking delicious,” he growled.
He’d help you during the entire pregnancy. Setting up the nursery, driving you to birthing classes, taking care of you whenever you have a nasty case of morning sickness. Your husband's there for you, 100%.
After your baby girl Lily was born, Simon’s heart melted into a puddle. His little one had your eyes and his scruffy, dirty blonde hair. The fact that such a small, beautiful creature could even exist amazed him.
Simon tried to hide how much of nervous wreck he was when both of you brought her home. What if something happened while he was away on a mission? Was he really ready to be a father? Could he avoid the same mistakes his own father made?
You assured him that both of you were new to this, and would have to support each other as much as you supported Lily. Simon felt a little more confident after that.
Since he's in the military, he'd have the baby care routine down to a T.
A harsh wail stirred both of you from your sleep. You began to slip out from under the covers before Simon stopped you. “I’ll get her, it's my turn,” he murmured. You yawned and quickly fell back asleep. He stepped over to the crib, Lily crying and thrashing around. Simon gently picked her up with his rough, calloused hands. The baby’s lip pouted as he brought her up to his shoulder. Simon hummed quietly as he patted her back. “It’s alright, Papa's here,” your husband murmured softly. She cooed before falling back asleep in his arms.
He loves taking her out in public. If not in a stroller, then definitely in a baby carrier. He’ll proudly parade Lily around with her strapped to his chest, carrying her through the store, zoo, etc. It's no wonder she became a daddy's girl with how much he fawns over her.
Simon's heart breaks whenever he has to leave both of you behind to go on a mission. He always felt like a huge part of his heart was being left behind, and couldn't stop thinking about how much of your lives he was missing. However, it was always the thought of coming back to his beautiful wife and baby that kept him going.
Thankfully, he returned home from a long mission just in time to hear Lily say her first word.
Your jaw dropped as the pot you were washing clanged into the kitchen sink. Simon was spoon feeding Lily mashed peas when the word bubbled out of her mouth with a giggle. He cleared his throat. “What was that, Lily?” your husband asked. Her eyes sparkled as she pointed a small finger at him. “Dada!” she burst into a loud squeal. You thought he was going to fall over. Instead, he unlatched Lily from her high chair, holding her close to his chest. “That’s right, baby,” he smiled. His heart has never felt fuller.
Johnny’s her godfather, of course. He’d come by every so often to watch her or just to spend time with you all.
All of you were sitting in your living room, a football game playing on the TV. “So, you thinkin' of havin' another one?” Johnny asked innocently as he felt Lily reach for his hand. He chuckled and held out his index finger. She cooed and wrapped her tiny hand around it before trying to shove it in her mouth. You exchanged glances with your husband, heat rising to your cheeks. “We'll see,” Simon said with a hushed voice, his hand sliding over to squeeze your thigh.
It was only a matter of time before he had you beneath him, your knees pushed near your ears as he relentlessly filled you with his cum with hopes of making baby number two.
-----
Thank you for reading! (Sorry if I got carried away).
#ghost simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost#ghost cod#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod smut#smut#papa ghost
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Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader
Masterlist
Inspired by this song.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread
A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.
Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)
@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore
[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]
In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.
For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.
Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.
He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.
It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.
You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.
The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom.
Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.
He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.
There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.
Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.
But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.
When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.
Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.
Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.
He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.
We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.
You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.
“You okay?” you ask.
He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.
“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”
You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.
“Bad day at work?”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”
“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.
“No,” he says.
His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him.
“Do you want me to run you a bath?”
He sighs. “No.”
“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”
His tone is harsher this time, “No!”
You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.
“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”
And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen.
Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin.
“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.
“Why?”
“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.
He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.
“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”
“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”
“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?”
If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.
He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”
“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”
He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?”
“Everything.”
“Enlighten me then.”
“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”
What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.
Oh.
Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”
“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.
You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?”
“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”
“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!”
His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before.
He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do?
He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.
And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him.
“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.
He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.
“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.
You sniffle, not answering.
You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows.
He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.
“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”
It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.
He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”
You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.
He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.
“Why are you crying?” he asks again.
You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“Hey.”
“No, I gotta-”
“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.
But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles.
“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”
Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp.
“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager.
Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.
“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”
“But the mess,” you say.
“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”
“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”
“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”
You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”
You cling tighter to him.
He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly.
Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word.
His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”
“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“
“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”
You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”
You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush.
“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.
He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive.
But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.
You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”
Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”
“It makes me weak,” you say.
“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”
“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”
“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”
“I know, but-“
“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”
“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”
“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”
You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”
His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in.
You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.
He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”
You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say.
He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.
So you promise him, “Okay.”
“Can you forgive me for yelling?”
Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say.
“Thank you.”
Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”
“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”
“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”
“But I-”
“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”
The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”
It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself.
The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#daredevil#daredevil x reader#gender neutral reader#matt murdock imagines#marvel#matt murdock fluff#matt murdock angst#mentions of child abuse#hurt/comfort#matt murdock fic#daredevil fic#daddy issues (but not the sexy kind)
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Daddy Issues ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
Premise: Toji, now being a single father has no idea how to raise a child on his own. His beautiful younger neighbor hears the baby crying every night, coming to his aid in more than one way.
Word count: 4365
Note: Just had the need to mention that there is no smut in this story before you start reading. lol.
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Fushiguro Toji was anything in this world but a loving and understanding parent.
Having to deal with a year-old baby on his own wasn’t his idea of fun and didn’t even know where to start.
When his wife was still alive, she was the one in charge of the kid, he barely knew how to change his diaper, and even that didn’t look to be just right. But he had no one to depend on, to ask for help, all his ‘friends’ were in the same business as he was and the women lurking around him at the bar don’t seem like good mother material.
Every night looked the same for him, the walls of his cramped tiny apartment constantly shaking with the loud wails of his infant child, he had no idea why the baby was crying, nor how to make him stop. His headaches turned into migraines and the little patience he had within him evaporated.
“Megumi, can you please, please, shut up? I’m begging you, I’ve never begged anyone in this life anything, please just sleep….” his voice came out louder than he anticipated, making you jump from your bed.
You lived next door and were having a hard time trying to sleep as well, the paper-thin walls that separated you from the distressed baby not doing much to stop the sound from coming.
You’ve worried for him for months now, you were aware the mother had passed, yet you’ve only seen your neighbor twice after that, and in all truth, he looked like someone who wasn’t interested in getting to know the people in the building and share a cup of tea or two.
But that was it, you’ve had enough.
Working wasn’t exactly easy when you’ve had only a couple of hours to sleep, and the poor baby, why was he always crying?
Initially you thought he was alone even, until this moment when you heard his father yell at him.
You understand his frustration really, but you should never talk like that to a baby. As if on cue, the baby just started crying louder, scared by his dad’s anger display.
Tying a robe around your body, you walked outside your apartment, knocking on the foreign door beside your own.
Toji’s face when he saw you on the other side wasn’t one of anger, was more one of despair. He had blackish bags under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, his head looked like a bird had nested on it and his shirt was full of what looked like baby vomit.
Not the prettiest sight.
“What do you want?”
“Excuse me sir, I’m your neighbor, (Y/N). Seemed to me like your child was having some troubles to sleep…I’m a certified pre-school teacher, so I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help…” the soft smile on your face was almost blinding, were you an angel sent by the heavens to rescue him from his demise? Did he even believe in angels? Because now, he certainly does.
Without uttering a single word, he moved to the side, leaving space for you to go into his apartment, immediately collapsing on the couch right after.
The baby was in his crib, his throat raw from screaming. His little onesie matched his dad’s shirt soiled with old milky vomit; his diaper as full and heavy as it could be.
No wonder he was crying like this.
“I will be using your bathroom. Where do you keep his clothing?” he pointed to a cardboard box laying next to his crib, earning a scowl from you. You were honestly in no position to judge him, he lost his wife not long ago and his job was of a dubious nature, but this were no conditions for a child to grow up into.
Grabbing the only clean looking onesie you could find, you took the baby into the bathroom and gave him a very much refreshing bath, his hair was all sticky and his nails way too long. You took care of that as well and got him into his clean pj’s in record time. Quickly moving to get some milk warmed up and in his zippy cup all before Toji could even realize what was going on.
But one thing was clear for him.
Megumi wasn’t crying anymore.
In fact, he just heard him giggle, which made him look up at you. He was in your arms, and you kept on bouncing him while he drank some warm delicious goodness, his little cheek nuzzling your own, sleep clad in his beautiful, rounded eyes.
You got there less than twenty minutes ago, and Megumi was now asleep.
How was this possible? He’s been trying for months, and he only sleeps when he passes out from crying too much…
You placed his little blanky over him, caressing his hair until you were sure he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, then headed over to his father, speaking in a quiet small voice, “There. He was too dirty, babies tend to be very picky with this sort of stuff, just make sure to change his diaper more often and change his clothing when dirty. Also, his onesies are too small for him now, you need to buy him larger clothing, it hurts his little legs, so I left the buttons open.” Toji was staring at you like you were some sort of goddess who came to tame his little beast, this was no easy fit, he was just as fierce as his dad…
“He’s a lovely well behaved baby boy, I’m sure he won’t give you many troubles.” that, however, made him scoff. “HA! He’s a little dirty beast, that’s what he is! All he does is scream and poop.” his loud outburst made Megumi cry once again, his father annoying you more than the poor tired child, “Tch, don’t be so loud!”
He was smirking your way instead of feeling offended, now you’d see what kind of a beast his child is. Or so he thought, because Megumi stopped crying once in your arms, his face pressed to your chest enjoying its softness and warmth, leaving Toji speechless with his mouth gaping.
“Such a good boy you are~” the child refused to leave the comfort of your chest, making you sit on the filthy couch that reeked of beer to wait for his slumber to come back.
“What do they teach in pre-school? Is it some sort of magic? He’s never acted this way, not even when his mother was alive.” his reply made you chuckle, petting the baby’s tiny back in the process. “Hmm…we teach them the days of the week, how to cut and practice writing, how to tend plants, how to color, things like that.” humoring him this far was more than what he is used to with other women, they usually just want him for cash and a fun lusty night, but they’ve never cared to talk like this with him, he was an intimidating man after all.
“Pfft and how does that make my son stop crying? Stop it, spill the beans, how did you do it?” he sat by your side, the sly smirk on his lips never leaving his rough, handsome face.
“I just got him cleaned up and fed, that’s all.” the sound of your voice made the boy snuggle deeper into your bosom, drooling all over the patch of skin that was in view.
Toji’s eyes were on his every move, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him hard, “I see…he’s definitely my son…” his loud cackles made Megumi stir and got you to frown once more. This time though, you didn’t need to scold him, he got it just by looking at your angered face. “Sorry, sorry…he just looked so comfy, of course anybody would sleep just fine there.” his jokes made you blush, quite an unexpected thing in such situation.
He was a handsome man, there was no human out there that would dare to argue that. Yet, he was definitely older and had some serious cleanliness issues, not entirely your type but aggravating nonetheless.
“Would you consider being his nanny? I could pay you double what you make in that pre-school of yours…” tempting offer, but you loved your job and weren’t looking for a new one.
“My son is clearly in love with you, I don’t think he’d accept anyone else…and you live next door so you wouldn’t have to spend money by going to work.” One of his chubby, calloused fingers came a little to close to your chest startling you, though, his aim was to clean his child’s drool before it landed again on your silky skin, it was a heartwarming scene.
“I can’t leave my job, they need me. Though, I only work the morning shift, so I’m back by noon. I can help, at least until you get used to the single parenting thing.” you said all this while looking at his child with such tender eyes that he just couldn’t say no to your proposal, he works late mostly anyways, sounded like a good deal.
“I would appreciate that.” his demeanor had changed for the better since you shared the same couch, an understanding like no other found without the need for words.
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The next day your shift got cut short as the children had a previously scheduled trip to the zoo.
Some parents insisted on going as well so you gave them your space in the bus, using your time to clean the playroom, it was time to donate some toys and you had the perfect baby in mind for this.
You gathered a few plushies and age-appropriate books and placed them in your backpack just before leaving for the day.
Remembering the face of despair his dad had when you mentioned getting new clothing for him, you stopped by the store and got him a couple of onesies and other outfits that would actually fit him, you could just give him the receipt, that should be easier for him.
And it was, he had never felt so grateful towards someone in his entire life when he saw all the new things you had for his child.
He isn’t the best dad out there and he’s aware of that, he didn’t really care if he was being honest, he always planned to sell him to the Zenin’s anyways, but raising a child was a pain and he never expected it to be that complicated.
“Can you tell me where the cleaning supplies are, Fushiguro-san? I would like to clean the carpet and the couch, it isn’t good for Gumi to breathe in so much dust.” he nodded, going in circles in his own living room, he didn’t know where they were, if there were any. “Just wait here, I’ll go buy some. Is there anything else you need from the store?”
“Hm…there’s not many diapers left, also it would be nice to have a smaller spoon for him.” going over to find his wallet, he headed out of the door only acknowledging you slightly while you tended his son. It was an intimate conversation and it had him somehow flustered, the big’ol Fushiguro Toji, flushing over the sight of his child chewing on the side of your arm while you checked his fridge. It’s not like he didn’t find his ex-wife attractive, because he did, but she was very different from you, almost as much of a man as he was, you were soft, tender, kind, your round curves and soft features weren’t like the ones he finds in bars and clubs, he needed to get his shit together before he’d end up drooling on you as much as his son.
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It's been a few weeks since you and Toji officially met and it still amazes him how much his life has changed in such a short period of time.
For the best, mind you.
But the best change in it, he would agree for it to be how much he’s been sleeping lately. Megumi entered a new routine with you, one that makes him sleep always at the same time, without waking up much, meaning Toji also has been getting some very much needed rest.
Even if Toji knows his life has improved, Megumi is the one who’s been enjoying life like no other these days.
Since his dad is in charge of him in the morning, he decided is best to sleep and recharge energy, that way his dad can do his grown up things without much problem and he would get all the play time in the world once you’re back from work.
His diet has improved as well, you found out Toji was feeding him instant ramen and this alerted you beyond words and you made a priority getting him all the nutrients he’s been missing.
His clothes fits, he has new books and toys, clean sheets, in general life was good to him lately.
Though Toji was now expecting you to get tired of this, you did have a job, a tiring one at that and still had to do your own stuff, but you’ve been visiting him daily and staying until Megumi signed off for the night, you must be tired, he knows he would be for sure. And knowing this had him on edge, what would he do without you? Their life is so much better nowadays, is this why people get married? Because he totally gets it now.
He’s been thinking about it all day and now that he’s back from work, he would tell you to feel free to drop this whenever you wanted. True, he didn’t want you to go away any time soon, or ever…but having you in a tight leash without it being your responsibility would just end in you sick and tired of the situation, he wanted to give you options, comfort even.
But when he stepped inside his own apartment, the sight behind the door made his brain to stop working.
You were laying down on his couch, Megumi on top of your belly, slapping your cheeks lovingly while giggling, “MmmMa” he’s been trying since forever but learning new skills without help is almost impossible for a baby, having you around talking to him constantly and encouraging him to talk has been doing wonders for the child, he’s very smart after all.
“Did he just call you mama?” Toji was still by the door, one shoe still on, unable to move from his spot.
“Oh Toji-san! Welcome back, how was work? And honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t told him to call me mama so I don’t know where he got it from.” Your explanation made Toji uncomfortable, he does know where he got it from. For a lack of a better word, he’s been referring to you as such in front of his son, is just complicated to explain a baby that you weren’t his mother, nor sister, nor family even but a simple neighbor, because not even the term ‘friend’ would be accurate. Megumi would call him “Ppa” so it was easier to call you “Mama” for him to understand, and it seemed like it did work, a bit too well for his liking.
“Oh well, he’s a smart kid. He doesn’t remember his mother and you certainly act like one, he’s just a little confused. Sorry if that freaked you out…” rubbing the back of his head he hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he wished that was in fact a reality.
“It didn’t don’t worry. It is normal, for younger kids you know? They call their teachers mama too, it’s happened a few times to me already. Though Gumi is special to me, so I don’t mind it one bit. You though….I hope you know I’m not trying to replace your late wife in any way….” your rosy cheeks were a blessing from the gods, there was no prettier sight out there, he was sure of that. But how much he wishes you were trying to fill in the spot, would remain a secret for a bit longer.
“I know you’re not. But I wouldn’t mind it if you were.” shooting you a flirty wink, he was finally able to move away from the door, the spell you had him under breaking with the blushy display.
“Don’t say that, it would make her sad…” even if you were wiggling on the couch, flushed all the way to your ears, it was still a bit sad, knowing someone lost this wonderful child and handsome husband, you’d be devastated if you’d have to leave a family behind like she was forced to.
“I know you think I’m joking, but I know for sure it wouldn’t. She was….an interesting woman. I just know she would be happy knowing Megumi has someone to look after him and give him the life she knows I can’t give him…he’s so happy and healthy lately, it’s making me think things through…” your heart grew three sizes with his words. In all truth, you’ve been just as happy. Your life used to be boring and pretty empty, your work was the only thing keeping you sane back then, but now? Now you look forward to get on a train and get back home as soon as possible, to see the cute cuddly ball of fluff that was now napping on your chest, you missed him so much when you were working it was crazy, even seeing Toji who came in the package was exciting to you these days.
“Why can’t you though? I know at first when I met you, it would be difficult to picture you as a good dad…but lately…I see how things have changed. I don’t think you need me as much anymore.” there it was…he knew it was coming.
“I’ve managed to make it work only because of you. It’s weird but now I think about what I have to get from the store every day, how many diapers are left, know his favorite snack and the temperature I need to set his bath for, and now I even know which days I have to take out the trash…Megumi’s mother wouldn’t recognize me if she could see me now. And that’s a good thing.” his boisterous laugh made you smile in response. You hoped he still wanted you around, you’ve been just as anxious as he was, thinking the very same thing, what if he didn’t want you close anymore? What if he decides Megumi needed a proper sitter? What if he got himself a girlfriend and the woman didn’t want you visiting every day?
But being objective that was very unlikely, you even got a set of keys for his apartment last week, the keychain had your name engraved and all, just like Toji’s….it was quite clear he wanted you there. And so did the baby in your arms.
“Well, I don’t know her, but I am very much proud of your growth as a father, Toji-san. You just needed to get used to being a dad, I assume is not that easy…”
“It isn’t. But you look more like a mother than his actual one, so I doubt you’d have any troubles if you ever have a kid.” Big words coming from a man like him…he’s been acting strange the past week and it’s starting to worry him a little. His way of speaking has softened, his dirty jokes stopped, he still flirts with you but who wouldn’t when you look so pretty with his son in your arms, it’s impossible to control the beast to that extent, specially on days you came to his house wearing those tiny shorts of yours, he’s turning into a saint, a blue-balled one, and all because of you, he doesn’t want you to freak out and run away, so he’s been behaving as nicely as he can, very unlike his normal self, he’s used to take what he wants when he wants it, but you were that good.
“It’s just Gumi, he’s so adorable and so well behaved….I guess he makes the maternal side of me come out.” your cute giggles not only woke the baby up but lit up a fire in his father’s body. He wanted to hear you closer, suddenly he was envious of his own child and how he was able to lay on you and cuddle your boobs as if they were pillows, the definition of a good life…
“He was nothing like that until you came though…a demon child. I’m his father though, so I guess it makes sense.” giggling some more just for him, you got up to set the child down in his crib, Toji sitting on the couch hoping you’d follow his lead, which you did, sitting right beside him.
“Well if I tamed the demon child, I must try to tame the demon daddy too then.” You’ve never flirted back, he was almost sure you weren’t interested, this was new, and he was not stupid enough to let it go, scooting himself closer to your warmth to encourage you to continue. “I’m untamable, gorgeous, but you can certainly try…” you didn’t move away, coming even closer to him instead. He’s undeniably hot and he’s changed so much, you thought it’d be hell sharing the same space with this man, but was quite the opposite, his house was now clean enough, his fridge full with food, his son fitting in his clothing as he should and his snarky bite had died down as days went by.
Flirting became the norm after that.
Toji never thought of getting another wife, he could get all the women he wanted without getting into a relationship but you changed the picture real quick.
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The day had come for the Zenin’s to meet Megumi.
Toji had been thinking of selling his child to them basically since the day he was born. Even if he hated them, his kid would be worth way more money than he could count. It’s not like he needed the money for anything, or wanted anything really, yet he kept on betting in silly races as that was the only thing he had to look forward to; before you came to his life of course.
Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.
Not only would he not have an excuse to see you every day without Megumi, but he’s also been getting along way better with his son since your arrival.
At first being a parent was just a nuisance to him, but now it wasn’t as much and not only because he got to see you or because you made his life easier, but because he finally understands what his kid wants and has seen how it feels to have a woman around the house, how nice it is to live in a clean environment, to eat delicious home cooked meals every day, how nice it is to get greeted by the door after a long day at work and how nice it is to be welcomed by cute giggles and warm smiles.
Being a dad wasn’t so bad anymore, nor was it the concept of being a husband.
Refusing to meet the old man was a bold move on his part, he was sure he’d have to pay for that decision at some point, but he just couldn’t bare the thought of giving him and the life they had now away just for some money. He could just take a couple more jobs and make up for it, even if one day Megumi would have to face them straight ahead, that day is still very far from now.
So instead of meeting the old dread, he went over by your school to pick you up and enjoy a nice stroll together on the way home.
The face you made when you saw him and the cute baby half asleep on his shoulders was one to remember.
Joy could be felt within a mile range. You weren’t expecting this, such a nice surprise. “Hello beautiful, got you some of that fancy coffee you like.”handing you the very much needed caffeinated treat, he smiled down at you, a smile like none you’ve seen in the past. He looked so good today, it was doing things to your insides. “Thanks Toji-san I appreciate it. But why are you here? Did something bad happen?”
“Nah, just taking the babe out for some sun…thought of picking up the other babe so she could join us, that’s all…” his confidence was almost intimidating but also very alluring, he was so sexy.
“That does sound fun…” but before you could step out of the school a younger teacher came out looking for you, you dropped your phone and hadn’t even noticed yet. “(Y/N)! Wait! Here, you left this in the class.” her eyes were glued to handsome piece of meat in front of her, annoying you to the point of getting in between the two with a scowl on your face. “Thank you, I didn’t notice. Now if you excuse us….” you leaned closer, taking Megumi off of Toji and into your arms, your free hand landing on Toji’s bicep, in an almost too intense possessive display. Toji on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying this, not only did he have two beautiful women “fighting” for him, but this was the confirmation he was looking for on your end to act upon his feelings.
Taking a hold of your tiny hand in his larger one, he just started walking on the opposite direction, completely ignoring the other girl and dragging his ray of sunshine back home for some quality time together.
Being a dad is complicated.
Being a single dad is even worse.
But thanks to it he found the most wonderful woman the world had to offer .
And yes, he did have some issues to work around still, like his awfully dangerous job and betting addiction, but for someone as broken and rough as him to get someone so soft and fantastic was worth any sort of sacrifice, for his babe-one and babe-two as he started calling you guys, a term that would soon enough be changed to ‘family’, he could do anything…
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Masterlist
#jujutsu x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu fluff#jujutsu toji#jujutsu fanfic#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro toji#fushiguro x reader#daddy toji#baby megumi#jjk fluff#fluff#single father toji#family fluff#soft toji
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https://www.tumblr.com/bitchinbarzal/736733295226896384/do-it-lets-fuck-some-shit-up-cole-anon
At this point she was already pregnant (baby Luca) but she didn't know it
Mama Hischier was ready to raise this baby alone and in secret, i need drama
😮💨 oh bestie the angst. I know this doesn’t really fit with the original storyline but I’m going to make it because it’s too good.
Nico was in Switzerland for the summer with Naomi. You were supposed to fly Iris over half way through the off season before joining your girlfriends on a beach vacation in Greece then coming home to jersey.
However, plans change. You were sick, so severely sick.
You’d ended up calling Nico three weeks into the off season
“I need you to come back to jersey and get iris”
“What?! She’s not supposed to be here for another-“
“Nico, I can’t get into this with you can you do it or not? I can’t bring her there anymore”
You had it out on the phone, him accusing you of being difficult assuming it had something to do with Naomi being there or what he’d told you before he left.
It wasn’t, there was someone else you were too focused on.
Luckily, Timo’s girlfriend had shows in California so they were still in the states and they’d agreed to come to jersey after the shows were finished to get Iris and take her back to Switzerland with them.
You thought it best to let her go to her dads before it got bad.
Iris however was constantly watching you throw up, scared something was wrong. She was so worried.
You knew you were pregnant. Mom's intuition. And you were terrified.
You were scared, the fear from before was coming back up. Everything you’d been through four years ago was sitting at the forefront of your mind.
You were pregnant with Nico’s baby and he was trying to have a baby with someone else.
You hadn’t told him, after your conversations about him and Naomi you decided very selfishly, you’d do this alone.
In Switzerland, Iris was lapping up the love from her auntie, uncle, oma and opa.
All of them had watched her over the week and how Naomi interacted with her.
About a week into her trip, Iris was in bed ready to sleep when her grandma headed up to say goodnight. She stopped when she heard the little girl speak
“Is daddy coming to read to me?”
“No, your dad is busy. He doesn’t want to see you” Naomi snapped and his mom frowned listening to her tone “and Iris, I know your mommy sent you here to ruin our summer but please sweetheart just leave me and your daddy alone this week ok? You’re really bothering us”
She could hear the quiver in Iris’ voice “but mommy’s si-“
“I don’t care. she’s a pain in my side and so are yo-“
“Enough!” Iris scrambled out of bed to her grandma’s arms while Naomi tried to stumble out an excuse for what she’d clearly said.
“I think it’s best you leave Naomi, you’re not welcome in our house any longer”
They made off downstairs, Iris sniffling and Naomi yelling behind them about how they couldn’t kick her out, this wasn’t fair.
“Woah, what’s happening?” Nina asked, stopping the conversations she was having with her brothers and dad in the living room to focus solely on her distraught little niece.
Nico’s mom stared at him in a way she hadn’t since he was a child
“I want her out of our house, now”
He nodded, up out of his seat and straight towards Iris who shifted her head so she wasn’t looking at her father. Nico’s heart broke, he had no idea what was going on.
He left the house with Naomi and didn’t arrive back for almost two hours, by this time Iris was fast asleep in her uncles lap.
When he did come in the family were all waiting for him just as he’d left. He didn’t care about them, or what they had to say. He cared about Iris.
He approached her sleeping form and crouched down infront of her, kissing her cheek before lifting her up into his arms and taking her up to his bed.
He held her all night, still fully dressed in his clothes he��d worn all day. He just had to hold his girl.
When the morning came and Iris woke up she had to gather her surroundings before she saw Nico and cuddled into him some more
“Morning princess”
“Hi daddy”
He sucked in a breath before saying “You want to talk?”
Iris contemplated it for a minute before she said
“Are you and mommy fighting because mommy’s sick? Is that why Naomi doesn’t like mommy?”
Nico frowned “Mommy’s sick?”
Iris nodded "We went to the doctors home and she was crying" now Nico is internally panicking, a million thoughts running through his mind of what could be wrong with you.
"But the doctor lady gave mommy a present to take home and she was smiling after”
“What did she get?” He asks and Iris jumps out of bed, leaving the room momentarily before coming back in holding something.
He takes it from her hand and he is instantly relieved, it's just her sonogram. It takes him a moment before he quirks his head. That's not Iris. He knows her picture, it's in his stall, he sees it everyday.
Then he sees the name and date at the top.
You were pregnant.
Nico has a wave of emotions fall over him for a moment, anger, jealousy, hurt before he turns to Iris
“Mommy’s gonna be okay, ‘ris I promise”
She hums, still stuck into his side before she says
“Daddy?”
“Yeah squish?”
“I wanna go home to mommy”
“Yeah, me too”
So they travelled back to Jersey that night, the two of them needing your comfort.
You were in the middle of watching a movie when they came through the door, startling you
“Mama I’m home!” Iris shouted, jumping up onto the couch and into your arms
“Hi babygirl, what on earth are you guys doing back here?”you were looking at Nico to answer that.
He sat down next to you, pulling the blanket you had over him too then put down the sonogram on the coffee table infront of you both.
The smile on your face dropped and you looked at him, panicked.
“I hope it’s a boy” is all he says before grabbing your hand and squeezing it.
He knew. He knew it was his baby.
You squeezed his hand back “Not the baby mom you’d hoped for-“
“Hey” he grumbled “You’re the best mom and if I get the choice you’ll be the only mom to all of my kids”
“Neeks…”
“We’ll talk when she’s in bed ok?”
You nod, letting it go for now while watching Iris cuddle into your side to watch the movie and Nico’s hand spreads out across your belly.
He had everything he ever wanted under that roof
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You’re Safe With Me (Mason Mount x Reader)
WC: 1.6K
Warning/Tags: toxic mother-child relationship, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, cursing, angst, protective!bf
A/N: i really didn’t feel good today, so had to channel my negative emotions into the healthiest way possible (aka writing). this one's really angsty, tho dw it has a happy ending. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (ps: if you want to be added in my taglist just lmk!)
—
Even though you are an adult with a good job and stable income, you still live under the same roof as your mum. She is a single mother, and as her only child and family, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own. You care so much for your mother, yet she has never exactly been kind to you since you were little. She never physically hurt you, no, but her words have never failed to leave scars inside your heart. And by living with her, that means you constantly have to face her spiteful words and feeling helpless.
You met your boyfriend, Mason through a mutual friend 6 months ago. Knowing how famous he is, at first you thought he would never be interested in a nobody like you, but you were glad you were wrong. You and him clicked right away, and a month later, you both decided to be in a committed relationship.
You have never felt so truly loved before Mason came into your life. Constantly got brought down by your own mother, you always thought you don’t deserve love even from yourself. But Mason shows you that you deserve everything good in the world, and he helps you gain your self-esteem and change your negative view of yourself. He sees through you, loving you for everything you are, and makes you believe unconditional love is not just a myth.
Mason asked you to move in with him to Manchester last week, and after having long talks through the phone for days, you decided to accept it. It might sound fast, but you were really certain it’s the best decision and truly excited to live with the love of your life. But the hardest thing to do is to tell your mum you’re going to move in with your boyfriend, which means you have to relocate to another city. You have always wanted to live on your own, and though you feel guilty, you finally think it’s time to live the life you’ve dreamt of even if it also means you have to leave your mum.
Today, you finally have the courage to tell your mum you’re moving out soon. And of course, she doesn’t respond well.
“I didn’t raise you to be a selfish brat like you are today!” She yells at you.
“Excuse me? Selfish brat you say? How am I fucking selfish, Mum???” You can’t comprehend being called so by her.
“The way you want to move away and leave me to, and I quote, ‘living my life the way it should have been’, doesn’t that sound selfish to you? Stop thinking about yourself, Y/N! The fucking world doesn’t revolve around you!” She continues yelling.
“I have dedicated my life for you, Mum. I have basically lived to ‘serve’ you. I respected you, tolerated your actions no matter how badly those might affect me, I cared for you…” Your voice starts to break, “...because I love you. But I’m sorry, I’m not a superhuman and I have my limits...”
“Bullshit!” She denies. “You ‘serve’ me no shit. I gave up my exciting, beautiful life to raise a child who turned out to be an ungrateful person. If you really love me, you will not leave me. Let alone to live with some guy.”
“He is not just some guy, Mason is a guy who loves me. And genuinely cares about me. He makes me happy and helps me realise that I deserve so much better, Mum!”
“I deserve so much better!” She shouts even louder while aggressively pointing at herself. “And please, you just want his fucking money and fame. Why would a guy like him fall in love with a self-absorbed wretch like you?”
Her words, as always, instantly break your heart into a million pieces. You love her dearly, but you aren’t sure if she loves you too, though you know one thing for sure: in her eyes, you will always be on the wrong side.
“I…” You are completely shocked by your mother’s response and at that moment, you can no longer hold back your tears. You run back into your room, lock the door and cry your heart out.
—
After calming yourself down for a little while, you grab your phone to video call your boyfriend. You really need someone to talk to, and he is the one who can easily comfort you.
“Hey, baby!” Mason picks up the phone, he looks excited to see you.
“Hey…” You whimper, your eyes are still red but you try to conceal your sadness.
He immediately becomes very concerned. “Y/N… What’s wrong?”
“Nothing…” You shake your head weakly. “Just had another fight with my mum…”
“Fuck.” He instantly knows your mum doesn’t take the news well. “Please, whatever it was, don’t listen to anything she said about you. You are not whatever she said you are.”
“I feel like I am… She is right, I’m a selfish brat for leaving her.” I start crying
He is heartbroken to see how much your mum has wounded you deeply. He would do everything he can to help you look at yourself beyond your mum’s hurtful words – because he knows how unpleasant your mother is and that you are nothing like your mum would say.
“Stop it Y/N! You are not selfish to think about yourself! You truly matter, baby. Your feelings are valid. She has treated you like shit all your life, even God knows you deserve to live a better life away from her.” He assures you.
You can’t seem to say anything, you just really feel like shit.
Worried about your wellbeing, Mason takes an impulsive but necessary decision at the moment for your sake. He doesn't want you to suffer any longer; he just has to get you out of there as soon as possible.
“Y/N, go pack your things. I’m going to book a flight right now and pick you up. It’s time to leave… I’ll be there in no time.”
You actually have packed most of your belongings days ago, so you let him know you’re practically good to go.
“Good. See you soon, my love.” He hangs up the phone.
—
Hours later, Mason informs you with a text that he is coming to your house. Once you hear Mason’s car pulling over, you say goodbye to your room then bring your belongings downstairs. You want to leave without saying goodbye to your mum because you don’t want to hear her saying whatever she is going to say. You open the door quietly and Mason is about to help you when you see your mum catch you before you even leave the house.
“Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?” Your mum runs toward you and tries to harshly grab your arm but Mason denies her.
“Stay away from Y/N.” He says as he points at her. He then tells you to leave your belongings and get into the car immediately – you follow his direction right away.
“Who the fuck do you think you are!?”
“I’m someone who will love Y/N and protect them. Because their mother obviously can’t do her one fucking job.” He calls her out.
“Fuck you!” She fumes. “They’re my child, I fucking raised them, I have the right to know everything about them and do whatever I want to them!”
“They’re a fucking adult who gets to do whatever they want, including leaving a horrible mother like you. You have no right to control them. The only person who gets to control their life is themselves.” He defends you.
“I beg to differ.” She scoffs. “You’re just a little kid talking nonsense.”
“Listen to me, Y/M/N.” He speaks so intensely to your mum. “From now on, you are out of their life. They are going to live the life they deserve. You are no longer allowed to interfere with their life in any fucking way or any circumstances.”
“Oh please, you can try to keep us apart however you want but they’re going to need their mother, arsehole.” She replies as she sneers at him.
“Y/N has my mum who loves them as her own child. They will never need you, Y/M/N. And sooner or later, you’re going to realise what a good child they’ve always been, how much your life depended on them, and what a horrible mother you have always been.”
Before your mum gets to say anything else, Mason walks out of the house with your belongings in his hands, slams the door on her face and gets into the car. You see how visibly angry he is the moment he gets out of your mum’s house, though you know he is angry for you. You haven’t stopped tearing up ever since before Mason came to pick you up, but the tears are falling down on your face even more now – but this time, those are the tears of freedom, the tears of joy. The second Mason got out of the house, you know you’re finally safe. Him and his family are your safe haven now and you can’t wait to finally be around people who are genuinely supportive of you. Most importantly: you are safe without your mother, the one person you love so much but couldn’t even appreciate even the littlest thing about her one and only child.
As Mason gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car, he notices you are crying.
“Hey, hey, you’re all good now, baby.” He reaches an arm out and rubs your shoulder, then wipes away your tears with his fingers. “You’re going to be okay.”
You nod your head and hold his hand.
“Thank you, Mase.”
“Don’t mention it, my love.” He continues rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. “As long as I’m living, you’re safe with me.”
—
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover
#mason mount#mason mount x reader#mason mount x you#mason mount x y/n#mason mount fic#mason mount fanfic#mason mount imagines#mason mount angst#mason mount one shot#footballer x reader#footballer x you#footballer x y/n#footballer fic#footballer fanfic#footballer imagines#footballer angst#footballer one shot
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Bf! Lo’ak x Human!reader Headcanons
a/n: based on this request! gender isn’t specified <3
He totally compares your hand sizes. Let’s be real, he’s always getting one upped by someone in some way so the fact that his hand completely dwarfs yours is room for celebration in his eyes.
“I think we’ve long established that my hands are not going to get any bigger, Lo.” You roll your eyes.
“I know, I know. But just look at how tiny they are, they’re so cute!” He fakes a pout, his canines peeking through his grin when you try and pull your hand away. “Oh stop it, you know I love them.” He flips his hold on your hand and lifts the back to his lips, and his eyes don’t leave yours as he presses a gentle kiss to the skin there.
He loves how small you are and finds your size adorable. Sometimes he’ll hold things above his head and tell you to jump for them, nearly doubling over with laughter at the expression on your face because you both know it’s still impossible for you to reach.
“Come on little love, you can do it.” His smile is smug as he stands with one hand on his hip, the other holding the book you were so immersed in, over his head and out of your reach.
“Lo’ak, give it! There’s no way I can reach that.” You huff, pushing against his chest and frowning when it doesn’t even make him budge.
“What’s the magic word?” He sings, peering down at you with amusement flickering in his eyes.
“No kisses for a week if you don’t give me my stuff back.” You challenge with a raised brow, smiling when he instantly drops his arm and nearly shoves the book back into your hold.
His teasing is never done out of malice though, only playful. Like when the two of you are venturing through the forest together, he’ll make sure he slows his strides down so you won’t fall far behind him, constantly looking back to check if you’re okay. And sometimes, he’ll even carry you on his shoulders so you can get a feel of what the forest looks like from his eyes.
You’re perched on his shoulders, your thighs sitting atop each one of them as he leisurely walks the two of you through forest. You keep a gentle hand on his head for balance and admire the fauna around you with small inhales of amazement.
“Doin’ alright up there?” He asks after a few beats of silence from you, only to peer up and see you with your arms outstretched, a wide smile stretching your lips while you let your fingertips linger along the vast leaves you’ve never been able to reach before. His strides slow to a stop, making sure to let you enjoy yourself.
You’re completely enamored and unintentionally tune out his question as you quickly reach to pick a fruit from above, squealing excitedly and holding it in front of his face to share your accomplishment with him. He shakes his head and smiles to himself, using the hold his large hands have on your plush thighs to give one of them a gentle squeeze, and a quick kiss.
“Good job, baby.”
He tried to fit into one of your crop tops because he thought it was funny how tiny it was. He ended up getting stuck in it and you had to cut it off his body with scissors while he sat there, sulking like a stubborn child who was already told multiple times not to do something. You were mad at first, because it had always been one of your favorites, but the flushed look of embarrassment on his face was enough to have you folded over and clutching your stomach.
“Bro, stop laughing and just cut it off already!”
“I’m- I’m- pfft! I’m sorry, I’m sorry you just look so,” You force words out through breathless laughter, backing up to take another look at his uncomfortably squeezed shoulders before you’re laughing once more. Your chin meets your chest as you giggle, and you bring your head back up to meet a searing glare from him that has you rolling on the ground and begging for air all over again.
He never lets you get your work done at the lab. When you hear the trees rustling and heavy footsteps from outside, you’re already making a note to pack up your project for the day because he will stop at nothing to get your full attention. Even when you make him sit in the desk across from yours and wait, he’ll ball up blank sheets of paper and pitch them at the side of your head, then look away like it wasn’t him.
“Lo’ak! Quit it!” You growl.
“Come onnn, you’ve been working since I got here! I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet, that’s so not cool.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling and looking away with an expression on his face that genuinely has you thinking he’s hurt.
You sigh to yourself and gently bring your laptop to a close, swiveling in your chair and turning your back to him as you start to pack up the stack of notebooks you have splayed on the floor. Unknown to you, he’s peeking at you through his peripheral and struggling to not let a satisfied grin curl his lips.
“Works every time.” He mumbles under his breath, quickly putting his sad face on again once you turn back around.
He loves taking you on flights on his Ikran because of your reaction. No matter how many times you fly with him you’re still as dumbfounded as you were the first time and he finds it adorable how you marvel at his home.
“How the actual fuck do mountains just fly here?” You yell over the gust of winds, peering up at the floating rocks with an open mouthed grin.
“You say this every time we fly, baby.” He chuckles and shakes his head.
After every argument or scolding from his dad, he’ll find himself in your arms. The way you hold him and stroke his hair helps him forget every thought on his mind, the only one that remains is the constant reminder of how much he loves being with you.
You’re sat in a cozy corner you’ve made for yourself in a quiet, secluded area of the lab, and your head whips up from where it was previously nose deep in a book, at the sound of the door flinging open.
“Lo’ak?” You query, quickly moving your book out of your lap once you witness the agitation in his strides, setting it down beside you.
“Sorry, sorry. I keep forgetting how light that door is.” His apology is rushed with an aggravated wave of his hand. The door is in fact not light, you actually struggle to open it on a daily basis, he’s just ridiculously strong. He closes the gap between you two in seconds, and before you can ask another question he’s defeatedly slumped next to you on the floor with his head snuggled into your lap.
“What’s wrong, pretty boy?” You ask softly, tone laced with concern as you run a gentle hand along the shaved side of his head.
He grumbles something incomprehensible, and your brows knit together as you try to understand him when his mouth is muffled against your thigh.
“Hm?”
“I said I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you just hold me, please?” The question comes out rougher than he expected, and his arms curl around your waist as he sheepishly murmurs an apology.
“I understand, my love. We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?” You lean forward and press a longing kiss to his temple, smiling at the way his tail thumps against the ground and his face grows warm in your hand as he nods.
He absolutely hates it when you compare him to a house cat.
“What the hell is ‘airplane mode’ and why do you keep saying I’m doing it?” He huffs, his ears pinning back along his skull in annoyance.
You choke out a laugh and quickly point. “That! That’s it, you’re literally doing it right now!” You cackle.
He pretends like he hates it when you grab at his tail but that’s only to hide how worked up he gets because of it.
“Stop it!” He gently bats your hand away with a hiss, having to turn his head back around to hide the way his cheeks flush violet at your teasing touch.
“Aw, why? Kitty doesn’t like it?” You giggle.
“Go ahead, try it again and you’ll find out.”
Everywhere you go, he treats you like you’re fragile as a feather. He insists that you’re with him at all times, holding his hand or in his arms wherever the two of you go. You’ll complain and claim that you’re capable of handling yourself, and he’ll defend his actions by telling you it’s only so you don’t get lost or something. But the truth is, he just wants you close to him because you’re what he values most.
“Lo’ak, we have walked this path almost a million times. There is no need to carry me!”
“Hush, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let a palulukan touch my little love?” He scoffs, stepping over a fallen log in the process.
You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder in immediate defeat at the dramatized excuse for his actions. You’ve already had this conversation before and you know he won’t accept any other answer. “A bad boyfriend.” You grumble.
“Exactly.”
#lo’ak x reader#lo’ak fluff#lo’ak x y/n#lo’ak x you#avatar 2#avatar twow#avatar lo’ak#lo’ak sully#lo’ak headcannons#lo’ak x human reader#avatar way of water#lo’ak imagine#lo’ak fic
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can i please request a drabble where rhys gets reader pregnant when they’re young, and his father finds out before him when the camp healer informs him of readers visit. He threatens reader and tells her that he’s about to become a high lord and doesn’t have time for distractions. he tells her that he’ll hurt rhys if she doesn’t leave, so she breaks up with him and runs away. When she hears the news of his fathers death their son is already 3-6 years old. she moves back to velaris bc she wants to stay close to him, she meets either cass or az when she’s shopping and they tell rhys who immedietly winnows over. He sees the kid with her and suspects… they finally talk it out, she shows him her memory of what his dad said, and get back together, the kid finally have a dad🤍 and she has her mate back🥹
this is such a good idea i love it!! also i did a daughter instead bc girl dad rhys is such a necessity
wc: 1.3 k
warnings: none
6 Years Ago
“You will not bear the future heir and you will not keep Rhysand from achieving his full potential as future high lord.” The high lord had cornered you outside as you were leaving a secret visit with Rhys, which was apparently not so secret. You didn’t speak, only nodded.
“If you don’t get rid of that baby and leave the night court, I will make sure there that Rhysand is not around to raise that child.” You had no idea how he found out about the pregnancy, but you also knew he was not one to make empty threats.
It would be hard, but you knew you could raise this baby on your own. The high lord never had to know you kept the child if you left. And neither did Rhys.
———
“I don’t understand why you have to leave. Please stay!” Rhys pleaded. It broke your heart to do this, but you could not risk his safety or the safety of you and Rhys’ baby.
Your baby. He can never know.
“I have to leave. I don’t want to be in Velaris anymore.” You lie. “I want to move home to the Winter Court.” Each word felt more painful than the last.
“We can visit there more often! I’ll go with you! Just please don’t go.” Tears are forming in his eyes, and you have to look away or else you will give in. You know what you have to say. The thought of it makes you sick, but it’s the only way he will never come looking for you.
“I don’t love you anymore Rhys. I’m sorry.” The look in his eyes when you said that will haunt you forever, but at least he will be safe.
———
Present Day
It had been years since that horrible day. His broken-hearted face still haunts your nightmares. Usually, you can go a few days without thinking about him, but your daughter, Nova, is getting to such an age where she asks a million questions. The most frequent being related to her father. You try to evade the questions as best you can, but it always results in you crying yourself to sleep and having nightmares of Rhys watching you say you don’t love him anymore.
Last night had been one of those nights and you were exhausted from the nightmares. You decided to stop in a local cafe for some coffee with your five-year-old next to you, sipping her juice. After several minutes of peacefulness, you overhear the barista talking with a member of Kallias’ court who had just entered.
“It was just a few months ago! I wasn’t sure if it was true, but once I saw Rhysand at the high lord’s meeting last month I knew it must be.” The man whispered not so quietly.
You froze.
“His father was such a brute. He gave the night court such a bad name. Hopefully, High Lord Rhysand will be a better leader for the Night Court.”
You drop the mug, spilling it all over yourself and the table. The barista rushes over to help you clean, but all you can do is stare at your daughter.
———
It took all of 24 hours for you to pack your and Nova’s belongings and find a horse to travel on. After weeks of travel, staying in old inns, and a constantly cranky five-year-old, you finally arrived in Velaris. You find a local inn and clean yourself and your daughter up. You knew that if you walked the streets of Velaris for long enough, he would hear that you were back.
But what if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he hates you for what you said? The anxiety starts to bubble inside you until you begin to second guess this entire plan.
“Mommy look! Cookies!” Nova is standing on her tiptoes and looking out the window of the inn at the bakery across the street. You shove the insecurities back inside yourself.
“Let’s go get you a cookie, honey.”
———
The two of you sit at the tiny table outside the bakery to enjoy your cookies. For a moment, you don’t feel as nervous. Until you feel someone watching you. You turn around and a familiar pair of wings are ducking into an alley. Well, you can’t back down now.
Not even 10 seconds later, you hear a commotion behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that Rhys just winnowed to the street. You take a steadying breath and turn to meet his gaze, but the look you get in return breaks your heart all over again.
“Hello, Rhys.” You try to break the ice. His eyes dart from you to the dark-haired, purple-eyed girl sitting next to you. A talon is caressing your mental shields, and after years of keeping them up, you finally let him in.
“Is she mine?” He speaks into your mind, getting straight to the point. The familiar feeling of his voice in your head is enough to make the tears start falling
“Yes. I can explain everything. I’m so sorry, Rhys.” You hope he will let you explain. Three long strides and then he is next to you. He kneels in front of your daughter.
His daughter.
Nova looks up at him, eyes glazed over as he speaks to her in her head. He puts a gentle hand on her cheek and softly rubs his thumb across it. A few minutes pass as they have their silent conversation before Rhys finally speaks.
“Let’s talk at home.” He reaches out a hand for you to take. Home. You never thought you would return. You take his hand as Nova takes his other one, and instantly you are winnowed away.
The moment the three of you are alone, he falls to his knees and hugs you both, tears freely falling.
“Rhys, I can ex-“ He cuts you off.
“I don’t care. You’re back. Even if you don’t love me anymore, I will do anything you ask if you will let me be a part of her life.” He looks at you with the same heartbroken stare that has haunted you for years. You drop to your knees with him and take his face in your hands.
“I never stopped loving you. I had to leave to keep you safe. And to keep Nova safe.” You start to explain but his eyes light up at the name.
“Nova?” He whispers. You nod.
“Like the stars. Just like her dad.” The word dad sets him off again and he hugs tighter. “I can show you everything. I can explain it all. I want you to be in her life…. In our lives, if you want.”
Rhys pulls you both close and just whispers. “You’re home. Finally.”
———
6 Months Later
After the announcement of the new High Lady and new heir, Velaris celebrated for weeks. You finally got settled into your new home, and Rhys even decorated a room for Nova all by himself.
It took some time after your return for him to fully open up again. Some wounds take time to heal, and Rhys spent a while feeling upset that he missed so many of Nova’s milestones. Even now, he asks you to replay her first steps in your head for him to watch. But once he started getting to know Nova, she had him wrapped around her little finger.
The three of you are sitting cozy on the sofa while Rhys reads Nova to sleep. You never thought you would get to experience this. Nova dozes off in your arms and Rhys shuts the book. The smile he gives you warms even your darkest dreams.
“You kept her safe long enough for me to meet her. You did an impossibly difficult thing to keep us both safe. I will never be able to thank you enough for what you did.” He rests a gentle hand on her cheek.
That night, your dreams are filled with images of your future lives together. You, Rhys, and Nova together for centuries.
#rhysand#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#acotar drabble#acotar blurb#acotar fluff#rhysand x reader#rhysand acotar#my writing
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Fluffy oneshot about Gojo seeing his newborn son or daughter for the very first time after his wife gets through delivery! 🥹
OH, you know this man would be a MESS
Now Presenting...
Starring Father! Satoru Gojo
Satoru didn’t have it in him to be a dad. At least, that’s what he convinced himself of. Despite the fact that he raised Megumi, Megumi wasn’t his biological child. He was convinced once his DNA was involved, no amount of your perfect genes could balance it out. What if his daughter inherited the nose he hated so much? Or the six eyes? Or all of his damn near crippling anxiety and self loathing?! No other human should live that way.
Besides that, what if he didn’t love her? His heart was so full of love for you and Megumi, he didn’t know if he had any more room in his heart for a third person. Of course everyone told him he was just scared and catastrophizing, that of course he wouldn’t feel that way once little Gojo was born. But none of them were parents, so how would they know? How could they be sure? They couldn’t! This was one of the few times where even you couldn’t really comfort him. Despite all of his excitement to start a family with you, the cloud of doubt constantly hung over him.
It hung heavy over him while you were in labor. He thought all of his fears were confirmed when he wasn’t excited for the birth of his child, he felt like he was having a panic attack! It killed him to see how much pain you were in, and crushed him that he had inadvertently done this to you. He genuinely had some regrets. There was no way he could be a good father when he felt like this during the birth of his child.
And then, the doctors put her in his arms. The moment he looked into her eyes, all of his doubts, fears, insecurities, all of them melted away. She was perfect. “Well?” You asked softly from the hospital bed, staring lovingly at your husband and your daughter. “How do you feel?”
“She’s perfect.” Gojo muttered, gently petting her thin wisps of hair.
“She has your nose.” You noted, gently booping her nose. Satoru nodded. She did. But it looked so perfect and cute on her, he hated it less on himself.
“Thank you..” He muttered softly. He couldn’t find the words to express just how in love he was with her, and with you, and with his family and fuck, why was he so scared of this?
“You’re quite welcome,” You chuckled. “I’m happy to have her too, so it’s worth it..” You sighed.
“I love her so much…I love you so much, thank you..”
“‘Toru…are you crying?” You asked, gently touching his arm. He nodded, laughing a little bit.
“I just…It’s overwhelming..in a good way!” He assured you with a smile before looking down at the little human he helped make. He made this! Kinda. Really, he gave you the supplies and you made an entire human from scratch. God, you were incredible. And the baby in his arms was incredible. The perfect mix of the two of you, the perfect symbol of your love.
God, he couldn’t wait to see who she grew up to be. She made a small noise, demanding Gojos attention. He looked down and laughed adoringly. Her eyes were so big! She looked around, taking in the entire world for the first time. Then she looked at him. Her eyes held him with a vice grip. And in them he saw everything good in the world. Innocence, curiosity, joy, and the vice around his heart got tighter. All of his previous anxiety felt so, so silly now.
“She’s perfect,” He muttered again. And he had never met anything more in his life.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#satoru gojo#satoru gojo fluff#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x reader fluff#dad gojo#satoru gojo x reader
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why i actually feel bad for kyle (FROM THE VAULT [2020])
I definitely do feel bad for Kyle, I really do. Bc he probably has one of the most difficult home lives of the boys and that’s why he acts the way that he does, and that’s what makes him a more sympathetic and complex character. First of all I think a big reason why Kyle always feels like he has to preach to everyone constantly is because he feels misunderstood and like he’s not being listened to. And this has been shown A LOT. Kyle’s parents hardly ever take the time to sit down and talk with him about stuff, they’re usually just very cold with him or they try to help him by preaching logic and facts about the world down his throat (which is why Kyle kind of does that to everyone else bc it’s what he was taught). Like he never gets to have a heart to heart with his parents. And I think the South Park movie is the best example of how neglectful Sheila is and how she doesn’t listen to Kyle. Throughout the entire movie, she went bat shit insane trying to start a war with Canada and every single time Kyle tried to get a word in with her about how he felt she just shrugged him off. So Kyle reacts by shouting everything he thinks and feels at everyone else hoping they’ll listen and validate him. And his parents are also just really hard on him and strict with him in general, which is why Kyle feels like he has to be a “good boy”. I’m sure the reason why Kyle is so smart and hardworking and does well in school and everything is because his parents push him to, so Kyle never really gets to let loose and have fun and shit because he’s probably always worried he’s gonna get in trouble. And a big part of why Kyle is so smart and woke about shit that goes on in the world is because we see his parents preaching their liberal beliefs a lot to him throughout the show (I mean his dad is a lawyer). It’s been shown that Ike is this child prodigy and they make him read books and shit, but I’m sure they probably raised Kyle similarly. And this is why Kyle is always soooooo concerned about morals and doing the “right” thing and he projects those beliefs onto everyone else, because it’s really the only way he knows how to live and he gets soooo offended when he sees other kids who actually do know how to chill out and have fun that aren’t as uptight as him. He was taught to live cautiously, safe, and ethically, so when he sees anyone else dare to break the rules or go against authority he freaks the fuck out. And we’ve talked before about how Kyle is really just jealous of Cartman. And you know why? Because Cartman is pretty much the complete opposite, Cartman has a mom that’s way too nice and she lets Cartman do whatever the fuck he wants. I’m sure Kyle wishes he had that much freedom. But anyways another thing about Kyle’s home life is the fact that his parents are always making Kyle look after Ike when they don’t feel like dealing with him. Ike is like a fucking toddler, (I think he went into preschool later on but whatever) it’s hard enough for an ADULT to deal with a toddler, but putting that responsibility on a 4th grade kid? This is definitely how Kyle developed his martyr complex, he always feels like he has to look out for others before himself because he’s used to having to take care of Ike. (And I’m sure having to deal with his mom’s outbursts is like dealing with a toddler too DHSJSKKS). But this is all why Kyle is such a neurotic scrooge, I mean if you had to deal with all of this shit all the time you would feel anxious and alone too.
yeah, this is the only time i’ve ever been nice to kyle and easy on him lol
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as someone who only just watched bullet train and wanted to find tangerine stuff, i was SO worried i was gonna be getting myself into a dead fandom but so happy to find your works😭😭💕💕 Could i request tan with an innocent reader who doesn’t get any of his innuendos or dirty jokes and sometimes scolds him for his bad language?<33
hii!! thats so so sweet, I and many others have got lots for you to read, so no worries!! and I absolutely love it! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌
potty mouth
tangerine x f reader
wc || 0.7
warnings || lots of swearing, bc duh it’s tan😭
a/n || had this in my drafts
masterlist + rules
taglist
Tangerine had the mouth of a sailor, there was no doubt about that. He would constantly spew strings of curses anywhere and everywhere he went.
Throughout your relationship with him, you have learned a few new curses, some you had no idea were even a thing. But with Tan’s cockney tongue, you’ve grown quite accustomed to his rather crude vocabulary.
“Ah, you fuckin bellend.” He hisses, forcefully placing the kettle back on its spot. “Twat.”
“What happened?” You ask, looking over your laptop from the dining table.
“Fuckin water splashed up, didn’t it.” Angrily dropping a spoon into the sink.
“Fiver.” You nod, keeping your eyes on your screen. “Five quid in the jar.”
“Oh get fucked.” He chuckles, sliding your cup of tea across the table to you.
You smugly grin. “Oh, that’s definitely two more, pop in seven. Keep going like that and I can my nails done.” Hiding a giggle as you reach for your mug, raising it to take a sip.
Laughing. “Dick.”
Making a playful expression, eyes blown wide as you gasp. “I’m definitely going to get my nails done at this rate.”
“Shut up.” Grinning as looks over at your screen, clearly trying to distract you. “What you working on?”
“Yeah, nice try. Gimme.” You smile, extending your hand.
“I thought it goes in the jar? Hm?” Hiding a smirk as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few notes before laying them in your hand.
“It’s also known as ‘my purse’ … that’s sixty?” Head cocking as you looked at him.
“Yeah, so you can get colours on your nails, or whatever you get.” Acting coy, as if he didn’t know any of the lingo.
“No-no. I was just kidding.” Sliding the money along the table.
He nods warmly, wryly smiling as he did so. “I wasn’t… keep it, treat yourself.”
“Now I feel bad.”
“Good, you should do. You just robbed me sixty quid.” Pretending to look offended as he stands. Nodding into the other room. “Come watch tv with me, I’m bored.”
“Sod off.” Snickering as you closed your laptop, taking his hand as he leads you into the living room.
Faking a gasp as he turned around. “That’s two pounds, that. I’ll make a jar for you, hypocrite.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the same as the ones you say.” Laughing earnestly as you slump into the sofa beside him.
“I suppose I can let you off.”
You snuggled into his side, looking up at him with a sarcastic expression. “That’s so kind, thank you.”
“I guess it’s alright.“ Grinning as he picked up the tv controller, flicking through the channels. “What would a perverted frog say?” He asks practically out of nowhere, his gaze fixed on the tv. “Rubbit.”
“Uh—?” Head tilting to the side in confusion. Brows furrowing as your mind worked wonders to decipher what he meant.
He lowers his head, nodding slow as a way to prompt you to understand. Noticing your confused furrowed brows, he slowly adds. “Rubbit— rub it.”
“Oh, you are disgusting.” Hiding a snicker as you gently slap his chest.
You’d never hit him with any malice, it would always be a gentle love tap. You didn’t want him to feel like a child being reprimanded by his mother, so you always made sure to do it lovingly and playfully. Tangerine is the kind of guy who is naturally cheeky and charming, so much so, that his dirty innuendos usually fly over your head.
“What do you call a lesbian dinosaur?”
“I don’t know, what do you call a lesbian dinosaur?” You ask, entertaining him.
“Lickalotapus.”
“Are you done?” Stifling your laughter as you pretend to look displeased.
“Nah, I got a few more… what’s the difference between pink and purple? … the grip.”
“Alright, you know what?” Giving his arm a quick harmless tap. “Where’d you even learn these?”
“Lem, he taught me when we were kids.”
“Liar… there’s no way, that he taught you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Not particularly, no.” Suppressing a laugh as you turned your attention back to the tv. “Fancy watching Thomas?” You asked, playfully provoking him.
“Fuck off am I watching that… yeah, yeah I know.” Scoffing as he reached into his pocket, immediately noticing your quirked brow. “You’re gonna be effing minted, aren’t ya?”
Smiling sincerely as you snatched the pounds from his hand. “That depends on you.”
@tangerinesgf @kpopgirlbtssvt @ch3rries-n-cream @earth-elemental18 @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @thewinterv @navs-bhat @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @theredvelvetbitch @randomawesomeperson102 @lov3lypeaches7 @princess-pebbles-things
#tangerine#tangerine x reader#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x you#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine and lemon#tangerine fluff#tangerine x fem!reader#tangerine blurb#tangerine imagine#bullet train tangerine#lemon and tangerine#tangerine x y/n
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Another bit from Sally=Loki that might have to get the chop but I thought was too funny to not delete. Can you guess who Percy had just met? (It's Apollo, also to answer your earlier question Percy sounds more educated because 1) Loki is very educated and children learn to speak by mimicing parents so compared to Sally who is a high school dropout, nothing wrong with that, just Loki just has a broader vocabulary 2) Loki would accept nothing less then a fantastic education for his child so Percy does go to a good school and has Loki being very supportive at home, 3) Loki has a lot of run ins with the authorities and taught Percy specific phrases. After all mortal doctors could notice something was up with her if they looked so Percy was trained to deny care, if you asked her about some other topic she would not sound that good)
“Why have you returned?” Poseidon demanded “And where is your minder?”
Percy shrugged and replied, “Ares was trying to show me some statues and murals when a strange naked man appeared and started touching Ares all over the place and tried to chase me.”
Her uncle Zeus made a strange noise like a squeaky toy, he should probably see a doctor about that she thought. “Mom and my teachers and the school resource officers all said if I see a person not wearing all their clothes or exposing their privates I’m supposed to run away and find a trusted adult. Ares didn’t seem super available, and you were closest, and it is your day, but I guess I can go back to my grandpa’s house if you’re busy.”
For a moment everything was silent and then Uncle Hades suddenly lunged forward tackling her father who had started to rise back into his seat. “Oh my, that must have been very scary for you” replied her Uncle Hades voice rough and teeth gritted with exertion. Vaguely she could hear her father start to say something only to be quickly cut off by a hissed “Language!” from said Uncle.
Uncle Zeus laughed like someone who knew they were about to fail to negotiate their way out of being kneecapped by the mob and blabbered out, “You didn’t interrupt anything important, no siree, we were just finishing up, now if you will excuse me I just remembered I haven’t seen my children in an bit and must check in on them” all while he fled the room, carefully keeping the table between him and her father. Percy wondered why all the adults on this side of the family constantly acted like they were raised by baboons. With a sigh she turned back to her remaining “adults” and said “Public indecency is illegal, as is exposing yourself to a minor. I believe this is where you are supposed to call the authorities.”
Percy was very proud of herself for remembering all of that from the stranger danger talk at school (mom would have probably castrated the man rather than call the cops but as Percy had recently learned mom also had a history with the law here so she probably had to rely on her own conflict resolution skills… which would explain a lot actually. As the old man who ran the bodega had said, a criminal who calls the cops is a dead criminal). Admittedly she did not ever expect to need to need it as any adult who worked with children with any frequency at all seemed aware of this particular procedure, however she supposed she could give daddy a pass since he was one, very new to this and two, she was starting to doubt he or his siblings had been raised by sentient life at all. So, some ignorance was probably unavoidable on his part, she just hoped the rapid reddening of his face was not due to anger directed at her over being told what to do. Maybe he was embarrassed that he didn’t know already? Mom always said there was nothing embarrassing about learning. However, last time she corrected a boy in her class he cried, she hoped this was not another Joey Klingler situation because she really didn’t think she would be able to get daddy to stop yelling by distracting him by triple-dog-daring him to eat a fistful of sand.
i love how no matter the universe, percy's first interaction with ror!apollo always has to do with him being naked 💀
BUT I LOVE THIS!!! I hope you don't end up deleting it cuz it is a funny scene but if you do... i will treasure this post forever 😔😔😔
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