#his dad was getting more and more upset that he was dragging me around instead | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 13 days

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i love the kbd universe so so much! could you please do one where sweet little bethie (☹️) has been getting a hard time from other kids at school/nursery for being ‘weird’/‘different’ and how steve and reader would handle it?? sorry if that’s too specific my lovely! hope you’re having a good day!! 🫶

thank you!! kbd au —steve employs your help when your daughter needs a pep talk. 1.5k

“Why’s my girl so sad?”

“I’m not sad.”

Steve raises his brows at Beth. She looks especially like you when she’s down. It’s sort of sad, thinking about it, how her lips turn like yours would, how she won’t meet his gaze or hold his hand when he tries to intertwine their fingers.

“Aw, honey, don’t tell me tall tales,” he says, no actual scolding in his tone. He sees the shimmer of tears aligned on her bottom lashes and can’t abide her fibs anymore, scooping her off of the couch and into his arms. “Bethieeeee,” he whines, “tell me what’s wrong! You know I hate not knowing everything about you.”

“Dad,” she says, letting her head loll in the curve of his neck, “nothing is wrong.”

Liar, he thinks. From the kitchen he can hear you and Dove and baby Wren singing. Avery potters around in the downstairs bathroom, humming. Steve knows Beth is sad, because Beth is quiet, but she still has as much energy as the rest of her sisters when she’s home. She isn’t introverted when she’s with him, or her mother, and especially not the best big sister in the world.

“Okay,” he says. He should poke and prod. Instead, he lifts her up as high as he can, which, not to brag, is quite high. “Hi up there. How’s the weather?”

She jabs him in the chest with her foot. “It’s windy.”

Steve laughs like an idiot and brings her down for some adoring kisses. “Super windy. Babe, you get funnier and funnier everyday.”

She wraps her arms behind his head. “Thank you.”

“Ooh, you’re welcome. Should we go and sing some songs with mommy?”

Beth shakes her head. “No.”

“No?”

“No.” She sounds like a baby.

Steve sits down with an arm behind her back. He’d quite like a bit of peace and quiet. He doesn’t mind if she needs some too. “Then let’s stay right here, bub, jus’ me and you.”

Dustin once said that Steve was about as much use as a paper cup in a hurricane when it came to comforting people, but that was nearly a decade ago, and it was before he met you. You rushed into Steve’s life (by accident on both sides) and showed him how it felt to be properly looked after for the first time ever. He can’t forget how that felt. Robin loves him but she couldn’t love him like that, couldn’t kiss a bruise and fix it whole, couldn’t ease a migraine with her fingers in his hair. You touch Steve’s arm and he can lift a ten tonner.

He’s more equipped than ever to comfort someone now. He had a good teacher.

“You have a long day today, huh?” he asks.

“Not much.”

He smiles. “Not much long?” he asks.

“Dad,” she grumbles. “You know what I mean.”

“I do… so you didn’t find it too long?”

“I guess.” Beth touches under his chin. “You have sharpies.”

“My stubble? Should I shave tonight?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “Don’t like scratchy kisses.”

“Oh, so you wanted more kisses?” he asks. “Would that help you feel better? How about we meet in the middle and get mom to kiss you? She’s not so sharp.”

She sighs, her nose shoved into his collar. “Dad, can you rub my back?”

Steve rubs her back immediately. She makes no other request, lips firmly shut and secret upset sealed away, feeling at his stubble with gentle fingers. She loves foreign sensations like this. It’s why she likes having her back rubbed, Steve theories; the pressure of his hand on her spine is dragging, and grounding.

He shifts against the grain of a cushion behind his back.

“I want to tell you,” Bethie says finally.

“I always want to listen,” he promises.

She doesn’t sound teary, more uncomfortable as she finally forces it out, “Nobody at school likes me.”

“Babe, that’s not true at all.”

“It is true. They all think I’m weird.”

“I bet they don’t, babe.”

“Dad, they all say it.”

Steve bites his cheek as his mouth snaps shut. “Well,” he says quietly, cupping the side of her face, encouraging her head back to meet her eyes. They’re big in her little face, pupils like pearls, “that’s not very nice.”

“It’s true.”

“Not true.”

“It is true,” she says angrily.

“It’s not true, Beth, you’re not weird, and if you are weird then I’m weird, and that’s not a bad thing after all. Is it?”

Internally, it breaks his heart. Beth has been different than the other kids for a long time and in lots of ways. She’s picky, peculiar. She eats things in her own fashion, and has interests outside of her peers. Steve didn’t know she was ‘abnormal’ until people started telling him —she’s his second baby. He didn’t think they were all the same, and so didn’t question her differences, and still doesn’t care to beyond wondering what he can do to make her happy. Who cares if Beth eats two bites of sandwich for every celery stick?

The other kids. Some parents.

“I don’t want to be weird,” she says, hanging her head.

You arrive like a well-timed miracle, shimmying past the half open door with a smile. “Hi, guys. I want you to come and do karaoke, what do you think? I’m making everybody mocktails! We’re having pineapple juice and–” You lean back, hand on your hip, a slip of your stomach peaking out of your tank top, total picture of a cool mom as you cross your naked arms over your stomach. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” you ask teasingly.

Steve squeezes Beth to his neck. “Hey, none of your business!”

“No, tell me,” you say, crossing the room to sit beside them on the couch.

“You wanna tell her?” Steve asks.

Beth shakes her head. “Didn’t want to tell you, dad.”

“You did, lovely,” he says, all sympathy as you cuddle up to Steve’s side and wrap an arm around them both. “You said you wanted to tell me. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us again, though. Mommy just wants to make you feel better, right?”

“Right,” you say. When you smile at her, it’s with all the love in the world.

She’s quicker to cry in her mother’s lap. She wiggles closer to your shoulder, her voice fraught as she confesses, “Everybody at school says I’m weird,” and erupts into breathless sobbing, like she’s terrified of the idea.

Your eyes wrinkle as you close them tight, frowning into the top of her head. “Oh, my poor girl. My baby. Please don’t cry, because that’s not true. You’re not weird.”

“Everybody says I am!”

“I’m sorry,” you say, pushing Steve away accidentally as you wrap her into a proper hug. “Who says that?”

“Mom, it’s everyone. Even my friends.”

Kids can be so mean, when they aren’t trying and when they are. You mumble sweet placatives, fingers running up and down the length of Beth’s shuddering back. She cries like she’s hurting. Steve’s reminded of the time she fell down the stairs and hit her face on the baby gate, she was shocked but more urgently in pain, and she couldn’t work out why she’d fallen.

“That’s not nice, Beth,” you’re saying, “I’m so sorry they’re saying mean things about you, but you’re not weird, I don’t know why they’d say something like that. They’re just not as nice as my girl.”

“I’m different,“ she says.

“That’s not a bad thing, Beth. You’re perfect. I wouldn’t want you any other way, and neither would your dad.”

Steve jumps in. “Right! We like you like this, babe. I don’t want you to change, I don’t care what all the meanies at school say, me and mom think you’re awesome. Avery and Dove and Wren all think you’re the best sister and best friend ever. Avery’s your best friend. Has she ever called you weird?”

The baby talk is sinking in. If you used your bubbly voices on Avery it might not work anymore, but Beth is just about young enough for it to take. “No… You really think I’m not weird?” Beth asks sadly.

No kid wants to think they’re weird, even if they are, and even if that’s okay.

You sink down into your seat, taking Beth with you. Steve has to fight to cuddle you both. “I know you’re not,” you say.

For a good five minutes, you just hug her. Steve ends up laying his cheek against your temple, hand on Beth’s back so she knows he’s there. When the baby starts babbling loudly for you to come back, Steve takes the short straw and leaves you both for cuddling.

“What’s up, dad?” Avery asks, standing on a chair by the baby’s high chair, feeding her youngest sister cut up strawberries on a spoon. Dove eats her own strawberries with sliced bananas and peanut butter, the evidence of the latter staining her blue t-shirt.

Steve pats the top of Avery’s head. “Nothing much, baby. I’ve come to make you your mocktail.”

“Oh, yes! With sugar? Bethie loves the sugar.”

She doesn’t know how glad he is that she’s Beth’s big sister. “With the sugar.”

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getodrools · 1 month

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angry sex with nanami but he’s usually always a sweetheart to you…. do you see my vision 🌚

ᯓ★ warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, veryy angry desk sex, he's veryy passive-aggressive, slight bondage ( his tie ), gag ( readers panties sob ), spanking, orgasm denial, edging-ish, cum shot.

NANAMI IS TOO BUSY for this attitude. Of course, reminding you that too—Well, twice too many now, “It's such an inconvenience when you start this, sweetheart.” Gentle voice soothing to ears, but the hard press of his cockhead nudging an unfathomable wreck into your pussy aches.

Nanami sighs… a mix with the adrenaline of pumping an angry hard-on into gummy walls and crude annoyance. He had a growing mean boner, the kind that was pent up from frustration and was filled with the need to ooze it out into you – throbbing to show you why giving him his time to work is very important!

Yet, you lived to act up—to be a brat, and scoot his papers away for his attention. Tsk tsk, he'd remind you how those very papers is what gets you spoiled if he turns them in… But the way you kept weeping and groaning, even flicking his items off his desk, tugging at his pant leg, and closing his laptop right in the middle of an email! Toiled his very last nerve with you.

“Don't you start.” Your wanton moans turned into whines, well from what he could hear through the soiled panties stuffed between your lips, “Weren’t you just bothering me for this? So take it.” Oh but you were trying!

It's just that having your ass—now littered in clear marks of his fingerprints—hanging off the very edge of his desk – you so toyed with, was growing an everlong pit in your tummy… Knees folded and pressing into cold marble, chest mushed too, even with wrists wrapped in a knot; folded into his mottled tie behind your back, you couldn't cease his onslaught for a breather.

The twist in limbs made ease for Nanami to fuck right up into you. Straining your arms back further as he’d snatch up the knot to force your body with his, and at each drag of his strong hips, the log of meat would fill your pussy right out.

Dammnit! This time was his working time!

When the clock ticked a ringing minute, it'd remind him of all the paperwork he should be filling out right now! But having your spoiled self balled up and cluttering his desk instead of work, he couldn't help but prowl even harder.

Shaking his head like a disappointed dad, “Maybe if you didn't always bother me, I might get work done on time,” He swears he's growing greys, “And then maybe, we'd have more time together, and this wouldn't have—” A clammy palm strikes a fierce bolt down the crack of your ass, “To happen.” And another… Nanami is a very patient man, especially when it comes to you, but today was a damn busy day!

Muffling out pleas, your eyes flutter at the meddling thwacks scratching down bare skin.

He was furious. Upset, annoyed, all of the above. And when tightend balls swung into your puffy hood, eliciting wet claps had your sappy entrance weeping. The deep strokes made all of you shiver, and vile swats to your backside was expressing it all very vividly… Let alone from the obvious and the mean clamor in his voice each time he'd grunt out exactly why you were pissing him off…

Your head bobbed like a damn bobblehead, like the very one on his desk you were just poking at—but dangling off the edge, the design of the carpet below you began to whirl and swirl around. Mind boggling at the tight clench your pussy ceases with as Nanami barrels into your core. You were on the brink of being a broken damn— a flood ready to just spurt out, but the selfish man unplugs your little hole.

“Nu-uh.” Worming himself out – almost hesitantly, but he stuck to the lesson you needed… sticky, translucent webs glob around his thick base as driplets trickle-down your knobbly thighs; shaking at how close you've got to cloud nine and beyond…

Heaving through sappy fabric mashed between teeth, you slump down, whining. Kicking your toes Nanami chuckles at your little shimmy.

“Oh? You don't like it when you can't get something done?” The irony in his voice irked your gears right off!

With sobs falling pliant to deaf ears, he was too busy mashing himself between your ridden and swollen doughy globes to finish himself off. Slipping with your muck and sliding between torn cheeks, he rushes down against your body; nth inches throbbing in bitterness and grinding against your perk holes ‘till hot cum shot out his rubbery tip. Feeling his messy high splatter a thick pool down the curvature of your back, whining to feel yours, but as shot after shot trickled against your skin, reality settled.

Expecting forehead kisses and apologies to his roughness, maybe even a warm bath… but Nanami tucked himself back into his pants, pulled his chair up, and turned his computer back on.

… Long, dreading hours of being trapped in that burly position on the corner of his desk was rotten of him! – He went right back to work! Leaving you folded with cum drying out into your skin as your pussy oozed out in the bare open, still hanging right off the uncomfortable ledge of his desk…

Nanami acted like you weren't even there. Those taps on his computer and soft hums were antagonizing as you were wriggled limp and helplessly right next to him.

That snobby, spoiled little attitude was surely fixed…

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: MORE NANAMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#ᝰ kento nanami!#nanami smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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mire1li · 3 months

Text

Reader as Alastor's Mother

My very silly gf (@yurislotusgarden) gave me hc ideas so i wrote them (with her help) This is fem!Reader! Part 2!, Part 3!

𓋼 You heard about the Hazbin Hotel and decided that you wanted a chance at redemption, which is how you ended up there. Alastor was out when you arrived so Charlie met you first.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Charlie! Would you like a tour of the hotel?! Please, come inside!” She essentially dragged you in and then finally calmed down.

She would drag you around the whole hotel, explaining things too fast for you to register. And then Alastor suddenly entered the hotel, looking proud and smug as ever. 𓋼 “Alastor?”

“Mother, Is that you? It’s been far too long!”

"Indeed, it has! Say, do you know your way around here?"

"I do! Why do you ask?"

"Well… this Charlie girl gave me a tour earlier but… she was simply too frantic with explaning everything so… I couldn't really catch on to what she said"

"Ah yes, classic Charlie."

And so, he showed you around properly, in a much calmer and more understandable fashion. You two ran into Charlie once or twice, but just told her you were 'walking around and meeting the residents and staff' as to not upset her.

You took turns telling stories during your tour, his being much more interesting than you'd expected! 𓋼 Charlie and Vaggie essentially had the exact same reaction to finding out you’re Alastor’s mother. Since one was out when the other found out, it made it much funnier.

“Hey Alastor, who is this?”

“Why, it’s my mother!” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer, in a side-hug, wearing the most sly grin any of them had ever seen.

“Oh, alright- hold on what?!” 𓋼 I could see Angel and Husk talking about you at the bar, nothing bad, of course.

“So who’s she?” Angel sat down on one of the seats

“Heard she’s Alastor’s mother” Husk turned to Angel and offered him a shot.

“His mother? Why’s she here?”

“Gee, I wonder why someone would come to the hotel all about redemption” 𓋼 “So, you’re down here then, Alastor. No surprise there.”

“Oh please, you flatter me, Mother.” 𓋼 From the day you two were reunited, he always came to you to tell you about any recent achievements of his.

Everyone was absolutely terrified when they found out about you being his mother for 2 main reasons:

1 If Alastor is as scary as he is, then imagine how much scarier his mother would be! But in truth, you’re an absolute sweetheart, which shocked everyone, causing them to be more cautious around you, in case it was all a lie. (It wasn’t)

2 Alastor is incredibly protective of you, even though he hasn’t explicitly said anything, everyone saw how he watched them when they spoke with you. Especially Angel. 𓋼 One time, it just so happened that Alastor was 'out on business' as he called it. During that time, Charlie's father, Lucifer Morningstar, came by to check on his daughter and the hotel.

He saw you, and his first words were "Hey there, are ya single by chance?~"

Charlie saw him flirting with you so she ran up to him and introduced you as Alastor's mother, in an attempt to scare him off from you since Lucifer and Alastor don't exactly get along… although, instead of deterring him, it just motivated him to continue.

"Dad! This is [Name]! Alastor's mother!"

"Oooh! His mother you say?~"

"Dad!"

You and him were just talking, Charlie trying to pull him away from you, when Alastor returned to the hotel. Oh, he was not happy.

"Lucifer, you sly motherfucker."

"I for sure will be one tonight!"

Let's just say… Lucifer didn't return to the hotel when Alastor was around, for a good while… 𓋼 Whenever you were bored, you would bake things for the other hazbin residents and staff. Everyone adored whatever you made! When you told everyone you would always bake when you were alive, no one was surprised.

Speaking of when you were alive and baking, one day young Alastor had walked in on you baking and got curious.

"Mother! What are you doing?"

"I'm baking, darling"

"Can I help you??"

"Alright, but be careful"

You allowed him to mix the batter and check the oven. 𓋼 He would always come help you whenever he knew you were baking, even as he grew older. And after death, he always recalled those memories, missing those times, so when he saw you in the kitchen of the hotel, he wondered what you were doing.

"Mother! What are you doing?" he asked, looking over your shoulder at the ingredients.

"I'm going to bake something for everyone, darling!"

"Oh? Can I… help you?"

He was a bit shy. Just a little bit.

At some point during your baking time, Angel entered the kitchen for something, only to see Alastor mixing some batter whilst you were preparing other ingredients.

"What the fuck Alastor? What the fuck's wrong with ya?"

"Nothing is wrong with me, I'm simply baking with my mother."

"What the fuck…"

And then Husk entered.

"What is happening?"

"Get this, Alastor is baking"

Husk laughed and took the opportunity to tease Alastor, because why wouldn't he?

"You've gone soft, Alastor!"

"Haha! Shut up."

"Alastor! Be nice to your friends!" you exclaimed and lightly whacked him over the head with a wooden spoon.

Angel and Husk snickered and ran out of the kitchen after that, clearly on their way to cause mischief. 𓋼 Everyone was gathered in the lobby doing their own thing, when Angel and Husk ran into the room, laughing about something.

"You guys won't believe it! Alastor got hit over the head with a wooden spoon! By his mother!" he exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention.

It only took you and Alastor another hour to finish what you were baking, so when you both entered the lobby with the cookies you baked, everyone turned their attention to you, and the gossiping and questions began.

"Oh, look! It seems the almighty radio demon wasn't completely defeated by that wooden spoon, after all!" Angel laughed

𓋼 After that whole fiasco, Angel started calling Alastor the "Spoon Demon", which Alastor didn't appreciate but he understood it was all in good fun so eventually he, though begrudgingly, embraced it. 𓋼 One day, you decided that you were bored, so you took a bunch of hair accessories with you to Alastor and started decorating his hair with pins, most of them being sparkly, and he didn't have the heart to say no… at some point he tried to take them off but he noticed that it made you sad, so for the entire day, he walked around the hotel with them in his hair, prompting Angel to call him "Sparkles" that day. And maybe a few more 'days' after that too…

𓋼 On certain days, Alastor would be incredibly clingy, always hugging you and never leaving your side. He never told you why but whenever it was one of these days, no one seemed to bother him. You assumed he was in a bad mood.

𓋼 Alastor asked you how you died during one of his 'clingy days', and when you told him that you died of old age, he seemed much happier that week. He even helped Charlie renovate some of the hotel for free!

𓋼 Naturally, Vaggie was suspicious of him when she noticed he was this happy

"What's got you in such a bubbly mood?"

"Oh, nothing~"

"uh huh…"

"What? Can I not have a good day?" 𓋼 Charlie announced that as a 'team building' activity they'd be having a sleepover, which Alastor opted to skip out on, however, you convinced him to go. The next day, the tips of his claws, where his nails would be, were painted all sorts of colours. You were also shown pictures of Alastor in full makeup… this was certainly the work of Charlie and Angel.

"Never again."

"Oh come on, you need to spend time with them!"

"Absolutely not, Mother."

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honey-on-your-tongue · 9 months

Text

Warnings: depictions of blood/blood kink.

Mean Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

-----

Miguel isn't the type to ever be smitten. He's not the kind to stare after some pretty girl that gives him eyes, and he's not the kind to flirt around. Ever. And he was pretty sure you were going to be just another of the many spiders he's worked with.

You're not. He's head over heels for you.

Funny, witty, persistent. You take no shit from anyone. Not even from him. You've never been afraid of him, when he snaps or yells or makes his usual snarky comments, you don't even blink. You cross your arms, level his gaze, shift your weight to one of your hips and call him out. Calm and collected, your voice full of authority and confidence, and it always manages to shut him up. He'll purse his lips and turn away from you. Then you know you've won.

Not today.

Today, you walked away first. He yelled at you in a fit of rage even though the issue hadn't even been your fault.

"Miguel. Take it easy,” you tried to calm him down. “We'll fix this. We always do.”

“The fuck would you know? All you do is make more of a mess.”

“No. I don't. I'm here to help.”

He scoffed. “Help? You're useless. All you ever do is annoy everyone around you. No one stands you.” His eyes had met yours and he'd snarled, “Everyone hates you.”

And you knew it wasn't true. But it still hurt. You'd clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing at him. And then you turned around and walked away.

No one saw you the rest of the day.

Guilt has been eating at him all day. He's in his bedroom, pacing from one side to the other, hands tangled in his hair, sharp teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Fuck,” he growls at himself. He doesn't want to, but he's going to do it anyway.

You're sitting on your bed, a cigarette between your fingers. You exhale the smoke slowly, wiping away a tear that rolls down your cheek.

A portal opens in your room and you sigh. You're expecting Peter to show again, fully intending on comforting you again.

Instead, Miguel shows. When you see him, surprise rushes through you, but you're quick to mask it.

“Took a wrong turn, did you?” you say flatly. You take a drag from your cigarette and he frowns.

“Didn't know you smoked,” he mumbles, not waiting for an invitation. He steps closer to you and sits beside you on the bed.

You hum.

He swallows his pride. “That's not good for you, sabes. It'll kill you.”

“Yeah, thanks, dad,” you spit. “Is that what you came here to do? Point out all my mistakes and tell me how I'm gonna die?”

He sighs. “I'm trying to apologize, kid.” That stuns you into silence. “I...overstepped.”

“Understatement,” you mutter, putting your cigarette out.

He huffs silently. “This is fucking ridiculous,” he sighs. “Look. I didn't mean what I said. I was...upset. You-you know how I get when things don't go my way. And it...It was a low blow. I'm sorry.”

You blink at him. “Say that again?”

He throws you a glare, but sucks it up. “I'm sorry,” he says between clenched teeth. “I didn't mean it, alright.” He huffs a thick sigh, looking away from you, his gaze focused straight ahead. “And it's not true anyway. It was a cheap lie.”

You smile slightly, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I know that. I'm too much of a likeable person.”

He turns to look at you, that sharp gaze making you freeze. Your breath hitches, mouth inching open, and his eyes fall to your lips.

You swallow, drawing his eyes to the dip of your throat. He meets your gaze.

“Miguel...” Your voice is a soft, quiet sound. A low purr that makes his blood rush south.

“Ven acá,” he growls, huge hands moving to cup your face. He pulls you closer, kissing you roughly, sharp canines poking your lower lip.

You gasp, palms pressing to his chest. He kisses you rough, hungry, like he's been aching for you all this time.

His hand slides from your cheek to your neck, down your arm to your waist. He tugs you closer, your leg pressing against his.

Your hand finds one of the buttons of his shirt and starts fiddling with it. He smirks against you, hands moving to your hips to drag you onto his lap.

He makes a low, contented sound against your lips when your clothed core rubs against his hard cock. He slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting the cigarette you'd been smoking.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin slightly. Almost instinctively, your hips start grinding on his, a whine leaving you.

He grunts slightly, starting to guide your movements in small circles, your clit rubbing against the thick tip of his cock, making you jerk in his grasp.

“Princesa,” he hums, “let me make it up to you.”

You meet his gaze. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with lust. You don't even have to _think_ about it.

“Alright,” you say. “As long as you don't leave me waiting.”

He chuckles lowly. His hand moves to your thighs, thumbs caressing the inside of your thighs, inching higher until he's rubbing your cunt through your jeans.

You exhale softly, swallowing hard. He pops the button open, unzips your jeans, his knuckles grazing against your soaked folds.

You quiver on top of him. “Miguel.” It's a soft sigh, a breathless plea for more.

He dips his mouth into the crook of your neck. His tongue is warm, wet as it drags over your pulse.

He lifts you slightly, helping you out of your jeans before pulling you back onto his lap. His rough fingers caress you through your panties, gathering your slick until his fingers are dripping with it.

He raises his fingers to his lips, licks your arousal off. You blush as you watch, a wave of desire crashing over you and flooding your senses. He can barely contain himself at your taste.

He wants to toss you onto the bed, bend you over it and fuck you hard and fast. He wants you on top, wants to make you bounce on his cock until you're crying with ecstasy. He wants to tie you up, watch you squirm as he makes you come over and over and over, making sure you feel nothing but pleasure.

He pulls your panties aside, his digits quick to find your clit. You barely have time to react when he's already rubbing the nub in tight circles, his sharp teeth dragging over your jaw.

You whine, hips bucking, thighs tightening around his hips. “Fuck,” you hiss, eyes shut tight.

“I'm sorry, princesa,” he says. “Didn't mean to make you feel bad. Never meant to hurt you.” He nibbles your shoulder, his fingers pulling away from your clit. He tugs your panties and you lift your hips to take them off. Instead, he holds you down against him and tears your panties off.

You gasp at the sound of the thin fabric tearing, and he chuckles. “Después te compro más, princesa.” I'll buy you more later. “Don't worry about it.”

You nod. “Yeah, alright.”

He considers throwing the ruined panties aside, but he ends up tucking them in the front pocket of his jeans. He knows he's going to find a bunch of uses for it on those late nights he can't fall asleep.

He runs his fingers up your slit, spreading your folds and tracing your slick entrance with his middle finger. You shiver and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Princesa,” he groans, “look at how wet I've got you. You pretty, pretty thing...” He kisses your jaw, sharp teeth grazing your skin. He slides his thick middle finger into you, feeling your soft walls clench around him.

You moan softly, a breath leaving your lips. Your nails dig into his shoulders, a shaky exhale escaping you. “Miguel,” you say quietly, beginning to move your hips against his hand. “Ahh...”

He slides a second finger into you and grunts at the sound you make. He curls his fingers, pressing against your g-spot and making you whimper. His thumb catches your clit, drawing neat circles on it.

“Princesa, there's something I wanna teach you,” he says against your shoulder. “Want to make you feel something new.”

“Yeah?” you question, breathless.

You can feel him grin against your skin. “Has anyone ever made you squirt?”

You shudder. “No,” you reply, eyes fluttering shut. “Never.”

Miguel smirks. “Then it'll be my pleasure to teach you, princesa.”

You shiver, whimpering lowly. His fingers touch every right spot, with the perfect pressure and rhythm.

He pulls his face back a little so he can see you, his eyes watching your every reaction. He admires the way you tremble, your plump lips open as moans and whimpers leave you.

His eyes glisten with a predatory lust that has you shivering. And then he kisses your mouth, hard and hungry, almost bruising your lips with his. He licks you, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you.

You whine softly, legs quaking, and he moans lowly, a deep rumble in his chest that makes your arousal spark.

He slightly grazes your lips with his sharp canines, making you gasp, and the sound sends an animalistic heat through his body. Almost involuntarily, he bites your lower lip, hard, not only bruising the soft flesh, but also drawing a little bit of blood.

You hiss at the sensation, the pain adding to the endless flow of pleasure within you. He licks at your blood, groaning at the taste of it.

You move a hand from his shoulder to the hair at the back of his head, tugging at the soft locks there. He growls out a moan, a sharp breath leaving him. “Princesa,” he says lowly, as if in warning.

You whine in response, your hips beginning to stutter against his hand. You can't breathe right and you're trembling almost violently. You can feel your orgasm nearing, growing within you like a balloon of warmth low in your stomach.

He can tell you're close. His eyes shine as he watches you, his cock twitching as your velvet walls clench around his fingers.

“Come on, princesa,” he says lowly, leaning closer to your ear,licking your earlobe. “You can do it for me, yeah? You can come for me, can't you?”

You nod, moaning. “Yes...Mhmm!”

“Muy bien, princesa,” he praises, eyes darkening. “Almost there, aren't you?”

You whimper, trying to reply. But the sensation within you is dizzying, stupefying. Your orgasm grows closer and closer, making your every moan nothing more than a pathetic little whimper.

And suddenly a new sensation takes over you, growing deep in your womb and spreading to the rest of your body.

“Miguel—” You don't get the chance to say anything else to him. Your body shivers and your orgasm is suddenly dragging you under, your eyes fluttering shut.

He gasps softly as you come, your body shaking as you squirt onto him. He can't glance away, can't stop moving his fingers. He just keeps going, stuck in a trance as he watches your arousal gushing all over him.

You whimper when the pleasure becomes too much, one of your hands racing to grab onto his wrist weakly.

“Miguel, 's too much.”

He stops his movements then, eyes rising to yours. “Oh, princesa,” he says, voice rough and deep. “You did so well. So good, cariño.” He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean as you watch.

You lean towards his ear and whisper, “Miguel, please, fuck me.”

He shudders as your breath caresses the skin of his neck. “Say it again,” he orders quietly.

You grin. “Miguel, fuck me. I want you inside of me. Need your cock in me.”

“Dios,” he grunts, eyes shutting as his cock jerks in his pants, eager. “Esa boca tuya, princesa...Tienes carita de ángel y aun así...” That mouth of yours, princess...You have an angel's face and yet... “Capable of being so, so dirty. It drives me fucking crazy, princesa.”

He picks you up, placing you face down on the bed, one of his hands on your hip while the other one pushes you down against the mattress.

You gasp, back arching as he teases your raw, soaked folds with a finger.

He keeps his eyes on your cunt before moving them to your ass. His hands splay over the soft flesh, kneading it and squeezing it before he delivers a soft slap to it. You whine and his lips curl into a slight smirk.

He undoes his pants eagerly, pushing his jeans off, his underwear falling away with them. His cock springs free, the tip glistening with precum. He's so hard, he can't believe the way you affect him. It's insane how easy it is for you to turn him on and make him forget about everything else.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds and you shudder, hips jerking away before pressing back against his in search of more.

He holds tight onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he slides his cock into you.

You mewl at the sensation, gummy walls stretching to their limit, your legs trembling as he fills you to the brim. You gasp softly when the tip presses against your cervix and then some. You clench your hands around the bed sheets, your eyes shut tight.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans, his eyes locked on your cunt and how his entire cock has sunk deep into you with so much ease. “Oh, princesa, you've no idea how much I've wanted this.”

You whimper in response, not really able to say or do anything else.

His thrusts start out slow, measuring how much you can take while giving you time to adjust to his size. But soon, when he feels you're wet enough and you're rolling your hips against his in a desperate plea for more, he starts going faster, harder.

Your entire body quivers with each thrust, the breath leaving your lungs accompanied by little whimpers. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he fucks you, and you're absolutely certain that you are going to pass out from the ecstasy.

“Princesa,” Miguel grunts, “I wanna try something else with you. May I?”

You nod, moaning out a squeaky, “Yeah,” as he keeps going.

He smirks, one of his hands leaving your hip to grab your hair and tug it hard, forcing your back to arch even more. He leans down to you, his chest against your back. You feel his lips on your shoulder, slowly trailing up to your neck, and then his teeth graze over your skin.

His sharp, sharp canines, send shivers down your spine. You shudder out a breath as he slightly bites you, the tip of his teeth digging into your skin.

He bites down a little harder, the pressure gradually increasing until his teeth sink into your flesh. You shudder, crying out as a shock of pain slices through you.

Miguel groans as blood starts flowing from you, its taste invading his senses. He licks your blood, reveling in the taste, and then he kisses the small wound he's inflicted.

You whimper, the pain adding to the pleasure and making your body shiver. You can feel the bliss within you growing into an unbearable entity within your womb, and you can't take it anymore.

“Miguel!” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, stars dancing behind your eyelids. “Miguel! I-I can't—! Fuck!”

“Shh,” he coos. “It's okay, princesa. Respira.” Breathe. “You're almost there.”

You cry out, biting down on the duvet to keep yourself quiet. Still, your little sounds echo in the room, growing louder as you reach your release.

Your orgasm tears through you, destroying whatever little was left of your composure. You shudder violently, body falling limp against the bed.

Miguel gasps as your cunt tightens around him, your arousal gushing out onto his cock. He keeps his hands on your hips, holding you up as your legs falter and give.

He thrusts into you a couple more times and then he comes, spurting his load deep into your pussy. You mewl weakly at the sensation, truly fucked dumb, and you can't do anything but feel him fill you up.

He grunts softly, grinding his hips against yours lightly before pulling out.

The two of you stay there for a moment, breathing heavily, bodies shaking from the shared effort. And then Miguel's quickly taking care of you.

He helps you onto your bed, laying you down gently and pushing your hair out of your face. He cleans you up with a towel, gathering your combined release with the soft material before tossing it in the laundry basket. He helps you into his shirt and he slides a pair of clean panties onto you.

Then, he lies beside you, his fingers tracing your skin, his eyes stuck on the way his shirt is too big for you because he's huge.

You cuddle up against him, your nose nuzzling into his chest. He smiles softly. “Am I forgiven, princesa?” he asks quietly, caressing your jaw.

You smile up at him, sleepily and pleased. “Yes. You absolutely are.”

-----

Blog masterlist

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you

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vivwritesfics · 3 months

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Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Eleven - Mwuah

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

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Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

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"Mr Ricciardo," said Milo as he tugged on the bottom of Daniels shorts, trying to get his attention. "Mr Ricciardooooo!"

Daniel hadn't stopped staring at Milos Momma. She was dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt again, speaking animatedly with Laurent Mekies. He wore heart eyes, whether he realised it or not.

Again, Milo tugged on his shorts, gaining his attention. "What can I do for you, Milo?" He asked as he crouched down, meeting his height.

Milo looked behind him, looking at his car. "Can I drive it?" He asked, somewhat timidly.

Daniel didn't laugh at him. He wore a kind smile as he stood up straight and held his hand. "You can't drive it, buddy. But, if your Momma says it's okay, I might be able to let you sit in it?" He proposed.

Immediately Daniel began tugging him towards his mother, calling for her. But Y/N was in conversation. Unless something bad was happening, she wasn't turning around. "I think somebody wants you," said Laurent as he let her turn around.

Y/N sent him an apologetic smile and turned around. There Milo was, holding Daniels hand. She looked around for Olivia, who was sitting in the corner, on her iPad. "What do you boys want?" She asked, her voice teasing.

"Momma, can I sat in Mr Ricciardos car?" Milo asked quickly.

"Did Mr Ricciardo say its okay?" She asked, looking up at Daniel through her eyelashes.

It wasn't supposed to be sexy, Daniel knew that. But seeing her dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt, looking up at him like that, he couldn't help it. She was so damn pretty, so damn alluring.

"It's fine with me," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then it's fine by me."

She watched as Milo dragged Daniel back over to his car. Daniel picked him up and lowered him into the Formula One car. Immediately Milo reached for the steering wheel, which wasn't there. His mother pulled out her phone as she snapped pictures of him pretending to drive. He moved his arms and hands like he was steering and moved his feet like he was pushing pedals. Daniel leaned against the halo, telling Milo where to turn. He didn't use left and right to direct him, instead telling him to drive towards his Momma, towards Olivia, keep going straight - push! Push! Push!

Y/N looked away from her son and Daniel. She loved it, loved how he was with him. But her eyes locked onto Olivia, who was no longer playing on her iPad. The iPad was in her lap as she glared at Milo and her father.

She pocketed her phone and walked around the car, walking over to Olivia. "Hey," she said as she sat beside her. "Whatcha doing?"

But Olivia was still glaring. Y/N gently nudged her shoulder. "You know, if you asked your daddy if you could have the next go, I'm sure he'd say yes," she said.

Olivia set out a sigh as she let her gaze fall to the floor, visibly upset. "Oh Livvy, what's the matter?" She asked as she grabbed a hold of the iPad, stopping it from sliding to the floor.

"Daddy looks like Milo's daddy," she said quietly.

"Oh, Livvy," Y/N said sympathetically. Somehow she understood what Olivia was saying. That they, Daniel, Milo and Y/N, looked like one happy family, one she wasn't a part of.

Standing from her chair, Y/N offered Olivia her hand. She took it and, together, the girls walked over to the car. Olivia squeezed her hand and looked up at her as they walked. When they got to the car, Y/N scooped Olivia up and placed her on her hip. "Daniel, somebody has something they wanna ask you," she said, turning Olivia towards her father.

Daniel looked away from Milo. "What is it, Badger?" He asked softly as he took Olivia from Y/N.

While they walked, Y/N lifted Milo out of the car. "Come here, munchkin," she said and stepped away, letting Daniel and Olivia have their moment. Before she knew it Olivia was sat in the car, pretending to drive it just the way Milo was.

***

The AlphaTauri car was doing exceptionally well, considering it was an AlphaTauri car. At first Daniel was just fighting for points, but now he was fighting for the podium. "Go, daddy, go!" Olivia shouted as she watched, squeezing Y/N's hand.

Somebody's car had stopped working and two had crashed into each other, taking each other out of the race. That left just seventeen cars in the race.

This was going to be Daniels highest points finish since he was put back into the AlphaTauri car. Olivia couldn't wait to see him on the podium again.

But Daniel wasn't on the podium, not this time. He couldn't get in front of the Ferrari car that took third, leaving him finishing p4.

He was still happy though. As soon as he could he was pulling his helmet off and running over to Olivia. He didn't care how sweaty he was as he pulled her into his arms. "Yay, daddy!" She cried, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Daniel shouted as he attached himself to his leg.

But Daniel put both of the kids down. They stepped back, watching with wide, curious eyes as Daniel walked towards Y/N. His gloved hands reached towards her, settling on her waist and pulling her close.

"Congratulations, Danny," she whispered and reached up to kiss his cheek.

But that wasn't good enough for Daniel. He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

There were probably cameras on them, Daniel realised. They were in the middle of the AlphaTauri garage, the moment not very private. But he didn't care. The whole world might've been watching, but he didn't care.

Milo and Olivia watched. This wasn't meant to happen. Their parent's weren't meant to start... kissing. "Daddy, stop it!" Olivia called, but Daniel didn't hear it.

He pulled away from Y/N and rested his forehead against her own. But neither of them could say anything, not before Milo began calling for his momma.

"What is it, Munchkin?" She asked, turning away from Daniel.

Milo scrambled around for an excuse. "I... need to go to the bathroom, momma," he said, reaching for her hand. Y/N shot Daniel an apologetic look and took Milo off to the bathroom.

As she did, Daniel grabbed a hold of Olivia. "Come on," he said softly and walked her to his drivers room. Olivia sat on the white sofa as Daniel stepped out of his racing suit. She kicked her legs, playing on her iPad as her father got changed.

"Daddy," Olivia said slowly as Daniel put his hat back onto his head. "Is Miss L/N gonna be my new momma?" She asked innocently, looking away from her iPad.

Daniel took the iPad from her and placed it into his bag. "Badger," he began as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. "Badger no. She's not gonna be your new momma."

"Then why were you kissing her?"

It was delicate, something Daniel didn't know how to explain to Olivia. "Look, Livvy. I like Milo's momma, but things take time, okay. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your mum just yet."

"So, it's a secret?"

"Yeah, jelly bean. A secret I'll tell your mum when everybody's ready, okay? Think you can keep that secret for me?"

Olivia pouted and laid her head against Daniels shoulder. "Okay Daddy," she said as he carried her out of the drivers room.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagiine #dr3 x reader

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alltheirdamn · 26 days

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 2: See me

Chap 2. Summary: To be loved is to be seen. You're slowly learning that Joel sees you a lot more than you realize. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for future smut) Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, no smut (yet...pls be patient), tension, banter, a fuck ton of angst, mutual pining, language... I think that's it this go around? A/N: trust me, we're building up to the good stuff. I'm just enjoying developing Joel and the reader a bit more, so pls hang tight. It's all coming soon, I promise.

Masterlist

It had been two weeks since you had last seen Joel. You managed to get through the first round of tests and projects for each of your classes, but as the midterms slowly approached, you began to notice a shift in your students—specifically, Sarah. It wasn’t noticeable at first; she was still chatty with her friends, but her grades were slipping. Then, it became her grades and mood. During lessons, you’d catch her staring out the window blankly or doodling dismissively on the margins of her notebook when you were running through the guidelines for the midterms. She lingered longer after the school bell, choosing not to leave with her friends. After a particularly dull day of presentations, you decided to pull her aside after class. Sarah was reluctant to stay, but you reassured her she wasn’t in trouble.

“I’ve noticed you’re a bit off lately, Sarah,” you said, leaning against the edge of your desk.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she shrugged.

She wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you noticed her shifting her weight between her legs the longer she stood in the empty room with you. You feared something was happening at home with Joel, but you didn’t want to explore that topic with your twelve-year-old student. Instead, you gave her a soft smile and tried a different approach.

“I know you’re on the soccer team. Has that been tiring you out?” You asked.

“I mean, I guess so.”

“When’s your first game?” You were really trying now.

Sarah tightened her fingers around the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

“This Saturday,” she mumbled.

“Are you excited? I’m sure your dad can’t wait to cheer you on!”

There it was—the breaking point.

She looked up at you through blurry eyes, biting her lip to stop from crying. You immediately regretted bringing up Joel. You had overstepped a boundary, and you were paying the price. Dipping your head to meet her at eye level, you placed both hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best you could.

“Oh, honey,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. Is that what’s been upsetting you?”

She nodded, sniffling back the tears.

“He’s always working,” she explained. “I don’t really think he’ll make time to come watch me play.”

“I bet he wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assured her.

“Yeah,” she said, wiping away a stray tear.

You watched the defeat etch itself into her features, the deep frown across her face, the brightness in her eyes dwindling. You wanted to believe Joel was a good dad, and you had no doubt he was trying his hardest, but that clearly wasn’t enough. Tipping your fingers under her chin, you coaxed her eyes to meet yours.

“Look, how about I go?” You offered. “I know I’m not the person you want to see on the sidelines, but I would love to watch you play.”

“Really?” She asked, her eyes growing wide.

“Really,” you promised.

Your words seemed to have soothed a bit of the ache inside of her, and she left the classroom with a smile growing on her face. If Joel wouldn’t show up for her, then you would. She deserved someone cheering her on; she deserved to be happy.

Whoever decided to schedule soccer games at eight AM on a Saturday was cruel, but regardless, you threw on some leggings and a sweater and made your way to the school soccer fields. The parking lot was littered with minivans and families walking with lawn chairs tucked under their arms, their coolers filled with juice pouches and snacks dragging behind them. Obviously, you were uncultured in the sports world and came without a chair or blanket…or anything. So, you opted to stand behind the line of parents on the field, swaying under the morning breeze as you watched the kids chase the ball across the field.

Your eyes never left Sarah while she was on the field; her bouncy curls and lean figure were easy to spot among the other players. She was quick when given the ball, dodging the opponents as she neared the net. There were only three minutes left in the first half of the game, and she had possession of the ball, weaving in and out of the players tracking her moves. You held your breath as she ran closer to the net, the ball easily controlled under her feet. An opponent was gaining on her, trying to kick the ball away, but Sarah did a little twirl and evaded them perfectly to shoot the game's first point. You were cheering and clapping loudly with the other parents on the sideline, watching her teammates swarm her with hugs. But as the cheering died out, you were left with this profound sadness that her dad wasn’t here to see her first goal.

You let that bitterness grow inside you as you watched the remainder of the game.

When the final whistle blew, the team won 1-0, with Sarah being the game's star player. With a sheen of sweat over her forehead and a juice pouch in hand, Sarah skipped over to you with a bright smile.

“Great job!” You cheered, welcoming her into a warm embrace.

She squeezed her arms around your torso, babbling off a slew of ‘thank you’s.’ You put aside your anger towards Joel as you grounded yourself in the moment. Sarah deserved this celebration, and you would happily give her every bit of attention you could.

“Do you need a ride home, honey?” You asked, pulling away from the hug.

Sarah’s cheery exterior faltered as she looked around at the families embracing their children. You knew where her mind was going. Looking around, she nodded slowly, clutching her drink tightly.

“My friend’s parents took me here, but I think they’re going out to lunch. I was hoping my dad would be here, but…” She trailed off.

“I’m happy to take you home, Sarah. Want some food for the drive home?” You offered.

That bright smile was back as she happily agreed, following you back to your car.

Both you and Sarah were munching on fries and singing along to pop tunes when you finally parked in front of her house. To your detriment, Joel’s truck was parked in the driveway. Sarah timidly looked between you and the truck as she gathered her sports bag and soda cup, thanking you again for the day spent together. You gave her the best fake smile you could conjure up and watched her head to the front door.

You sat in front of the driveway for an extra few minutes, debating whether you should confront Joel, but before you could even decide, he was walking down the front porch and towards your car. That bitterness and anger you had suppressed all day surged forward, and you jumped out of the car to face him with a frown drawn on your face.

Joel greeted you with your name falling off his tongue, and you didn’t have time to register the beautiful way it sounded in his Southern accent before you began spewing a litany of remarks about how you felt.

“Why weren’t you there?” You shouted, your body at arm's length from his. You needed to distance yourself from him, too afraid that your anger would send a hand flying across his face. You had to remind yourself that he was Sarah’s dad and you were her teacher, but that wouldn’t stop you from speaking your mind.

Joel looked at you with a furrow of confusion and guilt, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. It was apparent he regretted missing the game, but that didn’t matter. Saying sorry wouldn’t turn back the clock and magically make everything better. You knew that firsthand.

“Tommy and I had an early meetin’ with a contractor,” he explained. “Trust me, I hate that I missed the game.”

“You didn’t just miss the game. You missed her first goal,” you snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking his heels. “I appreciate you takin’ the time to go and watch her play. And drivin’ her home… and gettin’ her lunch.”

“I did everything you should have done,” you accused.

Joel swallowed thickly, his eyes settling on yours with a wave of sadness passing through his irises. Those big puppy dog eyes wouldn’t soothe the anger steamrolling over your professionalism. Fuck being professional. Sarah deserved a dad who was present, and if no one were going to call him out on his bullshit, you’d do it.

“I feel real shitty ‘bout it,” he sighed. “You ain’t gotta remind me.”

“You should feel shitty. She’s your daughter. I shouldn’t have to be the only one cheering for her on the sidelines. Nothing should be more important than that.”

“Would you quit lecturin’ me?” Joel barked. “I know I fucked up, and I already apologized to her. Again, I appreciate you takin’ the time to be there for her, and I’m real sorry for makin’ you do that.”

You huffed a laugh, folding your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you argued. “I wanted to be there for her, but she wanted you to be there for her.”

Joel said nothing at that, only stared at you in stunned silence. You were done with him, letting your anger get the best of you.

“I know what it feels like when the one person you want to see doesn’t show up. I know that disappointment. Have a great day, Mr. Miller. Tell Sarah I’ll see her on Monday.”

You spun on your heel toward your car, flinging the door open with more force than you wanted. You shouldn’t have brought your past into it; Joel was nothing like Bennette, but it hurt all the same.

Joel didn’t try to stop you as you drove out of the neighborhood, but he remained at the curb of his driveway, his eyes never leaving you until you were out of view.

You barely managed to put your car in park before you broke down in tears. Everything was crashing at the surface, and you didn’t have the strength to bottle it away this time. Bennett had been your entire world for five years. Your whole life revolved around him, from going to the same grad school together to moving away from Boston to be with him in his new career. You left everything behind for him and were happy to do it because you loved him. Despite his flaws and the “not-so-picture perfect” relationship, you stayed because you loved him. And in that moment when you needed him to be there for you… he was gone. You weren’t lying to Joel when you said you knew what that disappointment felt like; it was that same feeling that kept you up at night when you wondered if you had done something to deserve it. But Sarah? Sarah did nothing to deserve to be abandoned by her dad. All she wanted was to see that one person cheering her on from the sidelines, to hug her and tell her she was loved.

She didn’t get that today.

And you didn’t get that two years ago.

With whatever dignity you had left, you dragged yourself inside and into your bedroom, flinging yourself onto the mattress. Curling into a ball on top of the comforter, you let the tears continue to fall as you stared at the empty walls where the pictures of you and Bennett had hung before. Every inch of this house was a reminder of the scars Bennett left on your heart. You could have moved out months ago, you could have gone home, but what was the use when the pain would just travel with you? Shutting your eyes, you let the emotions exhaust you until you drifted asleep.

“Bennett, I told you what time the cake tasting was scheduled for,” you shouted across the kitchen.

Bennett wasn’t even listening as he responded to a thread of emails on his computer. The law firm he had been working at kept him on a short leash, always requiring him to be there at their beck and call. Between you and his job, his loyalty was in the latter.

“I know,” he nodded, still glued to the computer screen. “They needed a proxy for the shareholder meeting and asked me to step in.”

“We’ve had this scheduled for weeks now. You can’t expect me to make all these decisions alone.”

“Whatever cake you choose, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he shrugged.

“That's not the point!” You yelled, slamming down the Tupperware you had been scrubbing.

That caught his attention. Slamming the laptop shut, Bennett’s nostrils flared at your sudden outburst. You weren’t usually this outspoken; you were always the level-headed and obedient fiancé he expected to have. But the entire engagement had been a disaster, between work conflicts and the constant pressure he put on you. Every day, he expected to come home to a fresh meal, never considering that your job didn’t end when three PM hit. Being a teacher meant your responsibilities began at home, when you were hunched over curating the next lesson and grading papers. You never complained about his workload extending into the evening, either. God forbid you ask for more time together.

“What is the point?” He snapped.

“The point is that I want you there. I want you to be a part of this wedding planning process. All I’m asking for is two hours together, where we eat too much sugar and choose a damn cake flavor. It’s not even about the fucking cake, Bennett. It’s about you being present in this engagement.”

“Are you saying I’m not present?” He accused. “Because I have been as present as possible despite me working so hard to fund this big wedding that you wanted!”

“I just want you there with me for these things. Even if they aren’t important to you, it’s important to me,” you said, your energy dwindling. He always found a way to make you feel bad, and you looked past it for the sake of your heart. You loved him and did everything you could to make him love you in return. If that meant placating your feelings, you’d do it.

“If it’s so important to you, then just go. You can tell me all about it when I get home tomorrow.”

That was the best resolution you’d get, and there was no use fighting anymore. He would always win.

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “I’ll do that.”

Bennett rose from his chair and met you around the kitchen counter with a big hug. He rested his chin on your head as you melted into his chest.

“I love you, honey. I don’t want you angry at me all the time. You know I’m trying my hardest to be everywhere all at once. Just work with me, okay?” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be better about it. I love you, too,” you whispered.

A firm knock on your front door jolted you awake from the flood of memories in your dreams. The shadows in your room were a telltale sign you had slept through most of the afternoon, which would put a hefty dent in the list of never-ending work you needed to finish. Sulking through the house to the front door, you smoothed down your hair and sweater, trying to gather your bearings. With one last heavy inhale, you pried the door open and stood paralyzed at the further standing before you.

Joel said your name softly, his eyes tired and hair ruffled at the crown of his head. He looked as just a mess as you did, but most definitely for different reasons.

“Mr. Miller,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed back on his heels, holding your eyes apologetically. It was written all over his face; he didn’t need to say the words.

“Our conversation earlier ain’t sittin’ right with me,” he sighed.

“I overstepped, and I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

Joel held his hand in protest, shaking his head at your words.

“Don’t apologize, okay? You were right about everything. I shoulda been there, and I wasn’t. I let her down.”

“Mr. Miller, I—.”

“I let her down,” he repeated. “And I let you down.”

You stood in stunned silence, trying to understand his words. Joel watched you turn the words over in your head, his eyes never leaving yours. He said everything you had ever asked to hear from Bennett in just a few words. You didn’t understand the emotions stirring inside you, nor could you control the tears welling in your eyes. This would be the second time you cried today, and now it would be the second time you cried in front of Joel.

“You didn’t let me down,” you faltered.

“I did. I want you to see that I’m not a bad father, but I seem to keep makin’ mistakes left and right. She expected me to be there, and so did you. I’m the type of man who makes and keeps his promises, but lately, I’ve been fallin’ short. It ain’t fair to her, and it ain’t fair to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you whispered, wiping your tears.

“I sure as hell do,” he protested. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, okay? I’m gonna do better about bein’ there for her, and I want you to see that. I don’t wanna keep fuckin’ it all up.”

“Did you tell her that?” You asked.

“I did, and now I’m tellin’ you. I want you holdin’ me accountable on all this, and I want you to call me out on my bullshit like you did earlier. I needed to hear all that.”

“I was just angry. I didn’t need to be that mean to you.”

Joel lifted his hand to brush away a stray tear falling down your cheek, the touch of his hand on your skin electrifying you. You flinched away, trying to curl into yourself. He noticed your movements, letting his hand fall back to his side. You glanced down, watching him clench his hand into a fist as if he were trying to control an urge inside of him. You were trying to do the same; being near him scared you. It shocked you to see someone act mature and actually own up to their faults; it was something Bennett rarely did. You couldn’t make sense of it.

“There ain’t a single part of me that’s mad at you, okay? Don’t ever be afraid to speak your mind—at least not with me,” Joel said.

You only nodded, too afraid that if you spoke now, you’d succumb to an ugly sob. Joel’s broad frame was shadowed and looming over you in the dying sunlight, a cloud over the haze inside your mind. Joel didn’t understand the weight in those words, the way they sewed shut the empty holes left inside you. It wasn’t Bennett saying them, and it definitely didn’t rewrite the past, but it was writing the future. It was a future with the possibility that you weren’t as broken as you thought.

“Thank you,” you muttered. “I—just thank you.”

“Somethin’ tells me you ain’t been told these things before, huh?” Joel prodded.

“It doesn’t matter. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here, and I’m sorry again. I promise I’ll be better about my anger,” you laughed, hoping you’d be able to brush it off with a forced smile.

Joel saw right through you; his lips tugged down into a frown. You watched the crease between his eyebrows appear as he watched you minimize yourself right back down to zero. It wasn’t easier that way—making yourself small. Too big, and you’d be too much to handle. You were tired of being too much for anyone; it had already been your downfall once before.

“Whoever made you feel like y’need to apologize all the time is a real piece of shit,” Joel huffed.

“It’s alright, Mr. Miller. Thank you again for stopping by.”

“It’s the least I could do. And y’know what? I’d be happy if you joined me at the rest of her games. She loved havin’ you there, and I know it would mean a lot to her to see you on the sidelines again. Think that’s somethin’ you’d interested in?”

“I’ll think about it, yeah,” you smiled.

“Yeah? Good,” he exhaled.

Joel met you with a genuine smile, his eyes dancing over your face. You swayed in the doorway, unsure of what to do now that the conversation was coming to an end. A strange part of you didn’t want it to end; the stillness with him had managed to bottle away all of the lingering memories of Bennett, even if only for a moment. You’d take this over, crying yourself asleep like so often did.

“You should head home to Sarah,” you sighed. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Miller.”

“You have a g’night, alright?”

You watched him walk down the porch steps, the muscles in his back tense as he retreated back to his truck. You should have walked your ass back inside, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Before opening the truck door, Joel glanced back at you, waving a quick goodbye. You waved back and waited until his truck dissolved into the distance to finally shut your door and sit in the blaring silence.

You watched the night fade away from the comfort of your couch, a half-eaten sandwich in front of you and a wine glass in hand. Not only did you overstep your boundaries as a teacher, but you overstepped every possible rule between a teacher and parent. Despite what happened at the bar with Joel, he was still Sarah’s dad and completely undeserving of the anger you had toward him today. He was slipping behind every brick wall you had built up around you, a fortress no one could penetrate, yet he was managing to do it so effortlessly. And it was infuriating. How were you supposed to protect yourself from him? Bennett had been the perfect man at the start, always saying the right things and showing his love in so many different ways, but even with the rose-colored glasses on, that all crumpled away as time moved on. Nothing about your relationship was perfect, yet you tried to mend the broken pieces in hopes the possibility of marriage would solve all your problems. But clearly, it didn’t. It never even made it to marriage.

You weren’t even considering dating Joel, but that didn’t stop you from doubting he would be any different than Bennett. Sure, he might seem interested now, but that would change once he saw every damaged piece of you. You were hardly controlling your emotions, as it were, so why would you spend the time sharing the rawest parts of yourself with someone who would end up leaving?

I’ll do better, you told yourself. Bottle it away.

Another week passed by without fuss; the students passed their practice exams and had even begun working on their group presentations on the new poetry unit you had created. After next week's midterm exams, you’d be on a plane heading to Boston to see your family during the fall break. You hadn’t been home in over a year, and you were well aware of the fact your parents and sisters missed you. It’s not that you didn’t miss them, but going home was another reminder of all you had lost. But you’d steer clear of the roads you’d traveled down with Bennett, you’d avoid the bars and restaurants he had taken you to, and you’d absolutely banish all thoughts of returning to the Public Garden where he had proposed. Every corner of your hometown was haunted by the ghosts of what had been, but you’d brave it for the sake of family.

You had forfeited any thought of going to the soccer game out of sheer self-preservation. Being around Joel more than necessary was putting you at risk for an inevitable heartbreak, and it just wasn’t something you were ready to deal with. You didn’t want to let Sarah down, but Joel would be there for her, and that mattered more than you standing on the sidelines. She didn’t need you there; you’d only gone to the game to fill a void within her life. Joel was going to stick to his word, and you’d be able to maintain your teacher-parent relationship once again. You still had yet to forgive yourself for Saturday’s outburst.

It wasn’t until Thursday when Sarah approached you, that you were reminded of the game.

When she approached your desk at the end of class, she had her textbook in hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder. You were feeling particularly drained from the day after spending most of the night tossing and turning between nightmares, and you had to muster up the strength to keep things light between you and her.

“So,” she started, a bright smile plastered on her face. “My dad said you might come to the game Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah. I—I haven’t decided yet. I’ve got to make sure everything is prepped for testing next week,” you lied.

“Oh,” her face fell. “That’s okay. I know the exams are important.”

Fuck.

You were transported right back to the kitchen with Bennett.

“I’m sure the prep work can wait till after the game,” you smiled, already giving up on your initial plans to avoid everything—everything being Joel Miller.

“If you don’t want to come…” Sarah trailed off, looking down at her sneakers.

“Hey,” you said softly. Her eyes traveled up to meet yours again. “I’ll be there. You have my word.”

Sarah perked up, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“I’ll tell my dad! Maybe we can all get lunch after!” She babbled excitedly.

Oh, Christ.

“I’m sure you guys will want the day together,” you smiled, your patient wearing. “Go enjoy your night, Sarah. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Don’t forget your notes on Shakespeare!”

“Bye, Miss Smith!”

You watched her sprint out of the room to catch up with her friends, and you sunk into your chair, dreading what may come during the weekend.

Maria stopped by your classroom after the final bell, skeptically looking at you while you gathered your work bag. Thankfully, you both had Thursdays free of crosswalk duty, and you were ready to get home and sulk away under the guise of cheap wine and a bubble bath.

“You’re extra grumpy today,” Maria noted, slinging her large purse over one shoulder.

“I’m not grumpy,” you huffed. “I’m fucked. Completely fucked.”

She barked a laugh and watched you stuff files into your bag before you grabbed your keys and shooed her out to lock the door. The hallways were empty, except for a few teachers trickling out, and you walked a pace quicker, trying to escape the building before anyone else stopped you.

“Why do I get a feeling this may be because of a certain parent?” She asked, shoving into you playfully.

“Yes,” you grumbled.

“Explain!”

“Ugh, okay. Listen, all of this is against my own will, okay?”

You peered over at her, seeing a wicked smile splitting across her face. If anyone was on board with your confused emotions towards Joel Miller, it was Maria. She had been all for it since day one, and you knew she wouldn’t shut up about it until she saw you and him together. Which wouldn’t be happening.

You dive into retelling the events of Saturday, including the outburst and the conversation with Joel that had followed. All through your rambling, Maria was squealing like a little girl and inserting small remarks here and there—all of which revolved around the idea that you should fuck out your feelings and get it over with.

“Maria,” you snapped. “I’m not going to fuck him! Would you quit that?”

She shrugged, laughing off your stubbornness.

“All I’m saying is that there is clearly some sort of chemistry between you both,” she sassed. “One night of hot sex might clear your mind, and you can resume your up-tight ‘teacher-parent’ bullshit you’re trying so hard to keep.”

“It’s not bullshit, Maria,” you argued. “It’s called being professional.”

You both had made it to the parking lot, and you tried to inch closer to your car in hopes of coming out unscathed from this conversation. But Maria was anything but relentless.

“You really need to get laid,” Maria huffed. “Dust off the cobwebs and get back out there.”

“I’m perfectly fine with how my life is right now. I don’t need to get laid, and I certainly don’t need to be in a relationship.”

Maria grabbed your hands in hers, leveling you with a stern look under her thick mascara-coated lashes. With her lips set in a firm line, she squeezed your hands.

“It’s been two years,” she sighed. “Stop letting Bennett control your life. He’s in the past, and you need to find a new future—preferably one where you’re happy and in love.”

You squeezed her fingers in return, giving her a sad smile. You knew somewhere inside you that she was right, but it wasn’t in the cards for you right now. Not when you still had so much healing to do.

“Thank you, Maria,” you whispered.

When you arrived at the school, the soccer game had already begun. Your car sat idle in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes until you finally found the strength to head toward the soccer fields. Among the line of parents on the sidelines, Joel was standing further away, his body swaying against the windy morning as his eyes stay focused on the field. You walked up slowly, smoothing out your t-shirt and running sweaty palms over your jeans. You definitely didn’t spend too much time getting ready for a simple game. As if he felt your energy circling him, Joel turned toward you with a beautiful smile breaking across his face.

“I was hopin’ you’d show up,” he said.

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you greeted.

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself beside him, so you mimicked his stance and folded your arms over your chest. With the morning sun rising above the soccer field, you watched as his skin glowed in the sunlight, his tanned skin illuminated in the soft hues of the sunrise. He was undeniably gorgeous, but you forced that thought away along with all of the unruly ones that seemed to constantly evade your mind.

“Sarah’s doin’ great out there so far,” he mentioned. “Got herself close to scorin’ a goal ten minutes ago. No doubt she’ll get one at some point.”

“I bet she will. She’s amazing out there.”

Joel beamed at your compliments of his daughter, his eyes tracking her as she ran across the field. A teammate shot the ball to her, and you both stood silently as she kept control of it toward the goal. Instead of taking the shot herself, she crossed the ball to another teammate, letting them score the first goal of the game. The parents on the sidelines sounded off with a round of cheers, and you and Joel joined in on the excitement.

“She’s a team player,” you commented. “That’s a good quality.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly.

This. This is what you had hoped to see for Sarah. A dad who was present and proud of her accomplishments. You could give her all the applause in the world, but his voice cheering above the rest was what mattered the most.

There was a lull in conversation for a while as you both watched the game with rapt attention. You tried hard not to notice the way Joel shifted closer to you or the fact that he had dropped his arms so that he could casually brush his against yours. Each touch of his skin against yours was like a wave of heat rushing through your body, an electric current that started with him and ended with you. There was no doubt he did it on purpose, but you did nothing to stop it. You were losing the war between self-restraint and vulnerability.

“How’s she likin’ class?” He asked, making small talk.

You shrugged, glancing at him with an easy smile.

“She’s one of the best kids in her grade. This new unit we’re working on will be a challenge, but I know she’s up for it.”

“What’s the new unit?”

“Poetry.”

Joel snorted a laugh, his fingers brushing against the denim on your leg. You shifted to glare at him, amused at his response.

“What’s so funny, Mr. Miller?”

He ran a hand through the curls atop his head, giving you a lopsided grin.

“Nothin’,” he chuckled. “Just don’t understand why poetry is so popular in schools nowadays.”

“Poetry has always been popular,” you said pointedly.

“Has it? Must not have paid much attention back in the day,” he smirked.

“It’s my favorite unit to teach,” you confessed. “I think poetry gets a bad rap—clearly—but it’s important to understand the way words can convey so many layered emotions in the simplest of ways.”

Joel eyed you as you spoke, nodding along with you as you spoke. Even if he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of poetry, you enjoyed how attentive he was to the conversation. In the distance, you heard the parents cheer again, and you glanced at the field to see Sarah running with the ball toward the goal.

“Look!” You said, pointing toward the field.

Joel snapped his head back to his daughter, watching as she sent the ball soaring into the net. You jumped up and down, clapping at her goal and yelling out her name in excitement.

“That’s my girl!” Joel cheered. “Way to go, Sarah!”

Sarah looked over at him, her cheeks rosy from the play, and shot him two thumbs up. Joel returned the same hand gesture; his cheeks stretched wide with a smile as he watched his daughter dance into an embrace from her teammate.

“You were sayin’,” he pressed, his eyes sliding back to you.

“Oh,” you laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t want to bore you with all the school talk.”

“You ain’t borin’ me. I wanna hear what you have to say.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, realizing he wasn’t just asking these things to make small talk. He sincerely wanted to know the things you were interested in and the work you did, which was far from what you received from Bennett. Half the time you talked about your lessons, Bennett would just aimlessly nod while typing his emails and debriefs, his attention far away from you.

“Well, I’m starting off by teaching them about Shakespeare,” you explained, watching Joel open his mouth to make a retort. You held your hand up in defense and continued. “Before you go complaining about Shakespeare, I’ll have you know he’s one of the most renowned dramatists in history. His stylist choices in his playwrights were unlike anything else, and his work has completely impacted modern-day English. It’s because of him that we have so many words and phrases in the English language. Say what you want, but he really is worth learning about.”

Joel studied you for a moment, his lips curving up at the corners. You weren’t used to rambling off about useless things, more because you never really had the chance in the past. It was exciting to talk about the things you were passionate about, and you didn’t realize you’d find that moment being with Joel Miller.

“Maybe I need to read some of his work,” Joel said. “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You blinked at him. “Oh, um, it’s cliche, but my favorite is Romeo and Juliet. That’s what I’m starting with on the unit.”

“Sarah got a copy of it?” he asked.

“She should, yes.”

“Might need to steal it from her so I can see what all this fuss is about,” he smiled, bumping his arm into yours.

“You don’t need to do all that,” you muttered. “I’m sure Sarah could tell you all about it after she’s done reading it.”

“I’m sure she could,” he acknowledged. “But maybe I'd like to do the research.”

“Research?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Joel leaned into you, his face drawn closer to yours.

“Yeah, research,” he repeated. “I wanna know why y’like it so much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, all words seemingly melting from your brain. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? He wanted to take the time to understand your interests… but why? Once again, Joel was proving to be everything you never saw in Bennett. And it scared the fuck out of you. Because you couldn’t date Joel, nor did you want to. Giving yourself up to another person, exposing those vulnerable parts of yourself like that would just be inviting the possibility of another heartbreak.

“I can save you the time and tell you instead,” you offered.

“Nah,” he smiled. “I wanna find out myself.”

The game came to a close, with the school team winning 2-0. Joel embraced Sarah when she ran off the field, wrapping her into a gigantic bear hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. You gave her a small high five, congratulating her on the win. You followed them out to the parking lot, watching as Joel kept his arm wrapped around Sarah’s narrow frame. From this angle, they looked like the perfect father-daughter duo, and your heart seized with happiness knowing he had kept his word.

Digging through your purse for your car keys, you said a quick goodbye and made a beeline for your car. You wouldn’t insert yourself in the rest of their day; you needed to find some distance between you and Joel before he started crawling further under your skin. But as you tugged open your car door, a warmth grew behind you, and you turned to see Joel standing a few steps away. Sarah was nowhere in sight, so you figured she was already waiting for him in his truck.

“Yes?” You asked, standing idle between the open door and Joel’s tall body.

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, never settling on one too long.

“Look, this is gonna sound forward of me, and I can probably guess your answer,” he started. “But can I take you out to dinner sometime? As a ‘thank you' for everything.”

“Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “I appreciate the invitation, but this needs to remain purely professional. I’m Sarah’s teacher, and I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes trailing to the ground. Despite every cell inside your body screaming yes, you needed to stick to your rules—whatever the hell they were.

“I figured you’d say that,” he mumbled. "Listen, let me give you my number at least. If you ever change your mind, or if you need someone to drive you home from the bar, y’can shoot me a call. Is that okay?”

“I…” You trailed off, considering his offer. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

You searched for your phone in your purse, handing it over to him with shaky hands. His fingers brushed against yours as he took it, a crackle of energy bursting through your skin at his touch. He must have noticed, too, because his eyes met yours before he typed in his number. With a few more clicks on your phone, he handed it back, brushing his hand over yours once more.

“I sent myself a text on it,” he confessed. “Now I have yours, just in case of anything, y’know?”

“Yeah, just in case.”

Joel gave you a soft smile before turning and walking away. You watched his figure fade into the cars still filling the parking lot and caught him glancing back at you one last time. You stared down at your phone, seeing the text lit up on the screen. He had sent one simple word to himself: your name. Not Miss Smith, not ‘Sarah’s teacher’, but your name.

You opened his contact information and typed one simple word: Joel

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

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amathslutsguidetofandom · 25 days

Note

Heyyy I absolutely love your work!! Could I request a drabble of Bucky being completely smitten with the reader or a headcanon when the reader is sick??? Merci beaucoup mademoiselle🫶💖

Two Floors

PAIRINGS: 40's!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

WARNINGS: FLUFF, angst (if you squint), mentions of not haveing enough money

WORD COUNT: 1,759 (got carried away lol)

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

“Oh c’mon doll, can’t leave a poor man hangin’,” he says as he runs to catch up with you. You roll your eyes as he comes to walk along side you.

“Buchanan, I told you to go annoy Rogers instead. I have much more important things to do,” you bite in his direction as you make your way through the streets of Brooklyn.

Graduating high school, a month ago with your best friends, Bucky and Steve, was something your dreamed of when you met the two boys the first time your moved into the old apartment complex.

Since then, the three of you have become inseparable.

But something eats away at your heart, a painful piece of emotion that just slowly chews away at your peace.

“You got a job already?” Bucky asks as he slides his hands into his pockets. You adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder and nod your head, “just a small secretary job at the library. Enough to earn something until I finally decided what I wanna do with my life.”

Bucky laughs and lets out a low whistle, “still that ‘always need to know whay my future is’ type o’ girl, yeah?” You shake your head and slap his arm, “quit it, Buchanan. Or I’m telling Winnie your being an ass.”

Bucky rubs his arm, a little sore from your slap. “My ma trusts you more than the Lord himself,” Bucky comments, the loosely swinging his arm over your shoulder.

You doesn’t push it away.

“That’s because I don’t go bring random girls back home and make them scream my name in the middle of the night,” you smirk as you reveal you know of his nightly activities.

Bucky stops, forcing her stop. The look on his face is horrific and you snort and slap his chest at his reaction. “How’d you-,” he starts, but you continue to laugh.

“Becca tells me everything, Buchanan,” you wink at him before you start walking again. He breaks out of his reverie and jogs to catch up with you, “doll, it ain’t like that.”

You laugh and shake your head, “do I look like I care who you mess around with, Buchanan?” He pauses and shakes his head, it looks like to you he’s a bit upset, “no, you don’t”

You were about to say something else, but something caught your eye.

You stop and gasp as you walk towards the window of the shop.

The great glass pane with the large painted letters on it does not stop you from viewing the contents inside of the store.

The dainty little locket sits at the back of the display, hiding behind all the extravagant jewels. You know that the owner would’ve expected people to look at the jewels.

But the locket, it hangs lovingly from a thin gold chain. The oval case rests just in between the collarbone.

You think it’s the most beautiful piece you’ve ever seen.

Bucky see’s you view the locket and how in awe you are in as you frame a picture of it in your mind.

“Why don’t you get it,” Bucky suggests, nodding at the piece of jewellry. You let out a sad laugh, “because it costs more than our parents’ rent combined, Buchanan.”

You bite your lip while still looking at the necklace, “a girl could dream.”

You sigh and pull away, “let’s go.”

------- The Rogers’, the Barnes’ and your parents all stand in front of you as they sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the eighteenth time in your life.

After they finish the song, out of key, you drag the simple knife down the cake, and they start cheering.

Your mother cuts up slices and hands it to everyone, you get up from the dining table and smooth out the wrinkles of the emerald green cotton dress your mother sewed for you.

The dad’s gather as they converse about the lastest sports, the mom’s are in the kitchen laughing as the cook dinner. Steve, Bucky, Rebecca and you sit in the living room.

You go against the opinions of Steve’s and Bucky’s as they complain about how high school was the worst time of their life.

“Look guys, you can’t say that,” you chastise them softly, “Becca, you’re in your junior year. It’s one of the best times you’ll ever experience.”

Becca nods, as Steve shakes his head to Bucky and Bucky mouths a ‘No’ in Becca’s direction.

“Buchanan,” you throw the couch pillow at him.

-------

“Hey, can I come in?” Bucky knocks on the window of your bedroom.

The party was over, and you’re parents went out to have a quick little dinner. They were upset because they didn’t want to leave you on your special day, but you knew how hard they’ve been working, and they didn’t have time to themselves. So you pushed them out the door and yelled a ‘have a great time’.

Bucky crouches on metal ridges that is your fire escape, waiting for your permission to enter your room.

You jump out of bed and raise your window a bit higher so he can fit in. “Are you out of your mind, Buchanan?” You whisper-yell at him.

He shrugs, “what? I live two floors above your doll, nothing to be worried about.” The wink he throws you way, makes you roll your eyes.

But there’s a place in your heart where it instantly becomes warm.

Because, even if Bucky was a player at times, he still caught your heart.

You did roll your eyes at his antics. But your smile was true from how playful he is.

You’d say ‘Quit it, Buchanan’, but in your mind you’d always whisper a ‘Don’t ever stop’.

You knew you were falling for Bucky, but you always forced those feelings down.

Because you knew, he won’t feel the same.

“What needed my attention so badly, that you had climb down to get here,” you cross your arms and narrow you’re eyes at him.

He smirks and sits on your bed, “well, I haven’t given you my present yet.”

You freeze.

You’re also confused.

“What? Of course you did, your family gifted me the Aesop Fable set,” you say as you walk to stand in front of him.

You vividly remember getting the gift, because it was something you have been telling Becca about for so long. And you squealed when you opened their present

But Bucky shakes his head, “no doll. They gave you, their gift. I haven’t given you mine.”

You pause, and you swear your heart starts beating a little faster.

“What”? You whisper, because you know you voice will crack if you spoke louder.

He pats the space next to him, “sit down, doll.”

You gulp and go sit down next to him, you obediently place you hands on your thighs as you wait for the next part.

Bucky gives a smile. But it’s different, you have never seen this look on Bucky before. The softness of his eyes, the way his cheeks are slightly flushed, the little crinkles at the corners of his lips as he maintains that smile.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box.

The box looked like it was originally used to store a single chocolate ball, but the lettering on it worn out and the edges are a bit jagged.

You look at bucky with confusion, “what is thi-.”

He interrupts you, “just open it f’me, doll.”

And you do.

“Bucky, no.”

The locket stares back up at you, the gold glints under the light of your room.

“You-you can’t be serious, thi-this has to be a joke,” you turn to face him with tears lining your eyes. You heart has never beaten so fast in your entire life.

Bucky’s grin widens and nods, “got it this morning, just for you.” He says your name so softly that you think it might break if he said it to harshly.

You wrap your arms around his neck and push your head against his shoulder as you whisper your million ‘thank you’s’.

Bucky chuckles and rubs your back, “anything for you, doll.”

“Why, why me? Why this?” you shake your head against him.

“Because I gotta tell the girl, who lives two floors below me, that I’m in love with her,” Bucky pulls back and cups the back of your neck.

You gasp softly and furrow your brows at him, your shock so evident on your face.

“Gotta tell her that I’ve been after her since the day she moved into this building,” Bucky leans in and you follow.

How have you been so daft to not see this?

You close your eyes and stop until you’re a hair width’s away from Bucky’s lips.

“Gotta tell her how much I’ve been dreamin’ about her, and how she’s the only thing on my mind,” Bucky whispers, and you feel his breath hits your lips.

He softly places his lips on yours, and you move your hands to cup his face. You both move your lips in tandem to the other, as you try to feel more of one another.

He pulls away breathlessly and you follow suit.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time, doll,” he chuckles and leans in to place soft kisses on your jaw.

You giggle and whisper a ‘me too’.

Bucky takes the locket from your hands and starts to put it on for you.

He soon as he done, he leans back and sees how beautifully the necklace sits just above the dip of your collarbone.

“Open it up,” he nods at the locket. You smile and follow his orders, you gasp as you see a picture of your seventeenth birthday, with the Rogers’ and Barnes’, at Coney Island. And the other side had a picture of you and Bucky at Prom.

You didn’t have a date, well you did but he stood you up. So Bucky stepped in and became your man for the night.

You look up at him and have no words to say.

“I-,” you start but can’t finish your sentence.

“I know, doll. I know,” he smiles. “Been saving those tiny pictures for a while, but it was worth it,” he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

You close your eyes and relish this feeling that hangs in the air.

The feeling that you have been wanting to feel for so long now, it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hmm, doll,” he whispers back.

“I love you.”

“I love you, doll.”

💌💌💌

OMG! MY FIRST EVER ANON!!

HELLO NONNIE!!!

Love this ask, I've always had this idea in mind, but never really knew how to write it.

I guess this is just a messy way of writing it lol.

I hope this is what you were looking for nonnie!!!

Lemme know what you lovelies think!!

Till' then,

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fic

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judasgot-it · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could I request ADA members with a s/o who stopped paying them so much attention because they decided that Kenji is their child now and that they'll protect him and show him tons of love? (Not sure if it's understandable so - s/o is playing with Kenji instead of spending time with (character))

I hope I got it right lol please beat me if I did

ADA members with a s/o who 'parents' Kenji (Atsushi, Dazai, Yosano, Ranpo)

Atsushi

You don't work at the ADA and being friends with the members is important to Atsushi considering they're his only family

So seeing you get along so well Kenji makes him happy - he sees him as a brother in some ways

But having him encroach on his time with you has made him a little jealous - he's working on it, but you come to the ADA to visit him not Kenji

So seeing how much time Kenji takes up? A little difficult to take up

You even say "where's my boy?" when referring to him

Excuse you? He's your boy

The orphanage did not help him when it came to relationship stuff like this. He is a little needy for your time - sue him, he just wants to be with his s/o

Will try to now avoid having the two of you meet up at the ADA or meet his coworkers so he can get as much time with you as possible (it doesn't work. they always find him.)

Dazai

He thought it was great at first

Tried to tease Kenji by pretending to be his dad

Would annoy Kunikida too

"Oh, sorry, my son needs help, I can't do paperwork right now. Maybe next time!"

Since you and Kenji are so close he'll try to make him do tasks he doesn't want to do - if Kenji is coming over then he will make that poor boy do any sort of housework he was too lazy to do

He is annoyed though when he has to act PG-13 around him because you would beat him otherwise

You also let him join your lunch dates occasionally along with Kyouka - it's just downstairs, why would you force those kids to pay for their meals?

You take them around the city too - Dazai is of course forced to join you

No point in arguing, he's basically forced to act like their dad for the day

At least he gets compliments for it

Yosano

She's really fond of Kenji - he's a sweetheart, an angel

So I feel like she would be pretty ok with being more friendly with him

Convinced you would hangout with Kenji when she's doing her "operations" since they might take a while

He would get you two to go on fun dates though - probably some cottage core stuff like picking fruit trees

It's mostly those two doing the picking while you come over and bring them water and snacks

She doesn't have the heart to be jealous about you giving a lot of time to Kenji

But she is very honest with her feelings if she starts to feel left out

She loves Kenji but she has her limits too

Ranpo

He definitely plays along with it

The man is childish as hell but I don't think he would get upset at something like this

If anything it's the perfect time to but into the situation and be annoying

He drags Kenji into pretending to be 10 and going to stores with the two of you so you can get good deals or free snacks (they're all for him)

It does lead to Kenji following him into his lunch dates with you though, which he hates because he can't ever let Kenji pay for himself since he's so young (childhood trauma is real)

He definitely plays up being a "fun dad" around him and Kyouka, especially when you're around

Convinced he's relieving the time he had with his parents before they died, so that's part of why he enjoys it so much

I'd do more but these guys are probably the most interesting for the prompt tbh !?

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x you #yosano x reader #yosano x you #atsushi x reader #atsushi x you #ranpo x reader #ranpo x you

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simply-wlw-kpopstan · 1 month

Text

30. Minjeong to the rescue

You entered minjeongs room to find her sitting down on the ground, already fidgeting with new pieces of Lego to finish up one of the towers. "you know I kind of feel like a double agent since you showed me your private account."

"knowledge is power after all." you smiled as you sat down. " how did things go after I left?"

" the usual. Jimin said you weren't feeling well and that she told you to go and lay down. We ended up talking about all things that happened this semester including the Uhm... The Parker incident. He won't be around for much longer at the university, his dad is transferring him to some military thing or something. "

"you went over to his place after everything happened didn't you? Jimin and I talked about it and you told her you were with me, you told me you had other plans and the next day you have a bruised hand and Parker claimed he had a fight with some guy." you reached over for another bag of Lego pieces and started to build a new part of the castle.

"he had it coming. I knew you couldn't do it with your scholarship being on the line and he would have found a way to get you kicked out."

"he threatened with it when he saw me with jimin. Guess he didn't like people knowing he wasn't all that. Makes me wonder how he slept with so many girls if he isn't that good? Rumours spread fast around campus yet nothing about him being bad in bed until jimin dumped him. "

"he has money and looks, some girls don't care about anything but bragging rights. Who knows, maybe they tried to get something out of it themselves." she clicked the last piece onto the tower and connected to the growing structure in front of you. "enough about him. Why did you suddenly disappear?"

You sighed and thought it over, would minjeong listen and understand your feelings or would she defend jimin without thinking about it? One thing you know for sure is that she stays true to her feelings and opinions so she probably wouldn't just brush it off and defend her friend. "jimin came up to me in the kitchen and hugged me. I told her we probably shouldn't and then she turned me around, if I didn't push her away she would've kissed me. It was like she didn't see the problem in that. I was introduced as a friend and didn't want to be caught kissing their daughter in their kitchen at all. That would be disrespectful wouldn't it? "

"you were scared of getting caughed I understand that but you do realize your fighting over a hypothetical thing that could've happened? Unless you're mad about something else and are using this as an excuse. "

"i'm not." you frowned as minjeong gave you a look before focusing back on the Lego piece.

"so you're not mad about meeting her parents as a friend instead of her girlfriend?"

"No? We're taking things Slow and I understand if she isn't ready for any labels yet. I-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there before you try to sell me more bullshit." she layed down her work before stealing your lego's out of your hands," You've been acting like a couple long before you confessed to one another. If and I say if you are upset over the fact she was so careless you should tell her because right now she doesn't know why you're upset. Now if it is about meeting the parents as a friend you should've thought about that before you joined the trip, you knew they were coming and you knew jimin told them you were a friend. "

"since when are you a therapist?" you clocked an eyebrow.

"since the day I met these girls." she smirked.

"well if you'll excuse me I have to go and talk to jimin. I'll come back after so we can finish this castle."

"you better! We should be able to finish it in an hour together I think. Just don't let jimin drag you into bed, I'm waiting and the rooms aren't soundproof just so you know." she sent you a playful glance as you walked out laughing.

"noted!" you walked into the living room to see aeri and ning watching a new k-drama, Once aeri spotted you she motioned to the bedrooms. You made your way over to jimin's room and softly knocked on the door.

"yeah?" jimin's voice came softly from inside and you opened the bedroom door to see her laying on her bed with a book.

"Hey, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for today. I should've never put you in the position to make up an excuse for me to your parents." you quietly sat down on the bed as she placed the book on her bedside table.

"I don't care about that. What I do care about is that you got all weird without any explanation."

"I got upset over the fact that you were so careless about kissing me. It hadn't been a day since I met your parents and it felt wrong. They think I'm your friend and I got scared about them finding out that I'm not just a friend. That I..."

"that you?" She raised an eyebrow at your sudden silence.

"that the whole Parker thing was my fault."

"what are you talking about? You weren't -"

"jimin if we didn't sleep together when you were together with him, he wouldn't have hit you. Do your parents know why he did it?"

"They know enough, Parker probably told his dad that I cheated too. I don't know if my parents know but they'll find out eventually. It was my choice though, you didn't pressure me into anything. Parker chose to hit me and it's no one's fault except his."

You nodded as you looked down at the ground. The sound of blankets rustling filled the room before you felt arms wrap around your waist. Jimin placed a kiss on your shoulder as she nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck. "I promised minjeong I'd come back after talking with you. Her exact words were 'don't let jimin drag you into bed'"

"I didn't drag you, you sat down voluntarily." she smiled against your skin, "wouldn't you rather spend time with me in bed then build Legos with minjeong?"

You sucked your teeth, "see that's were you get too cocky. Minjeong and I have a goal we need to achieve. I'll come back once we're done though." you turned towards her as she pulled back from you.

"wha- you're not kidding? You're actually choosing lego's over me?" She looked at you in disbelieve.

"I made a promise to my friend so yes." you smirked as you stood up, "I don't have favorite's you know."

"She's your friend, I'm your-" she cut herself off but you both knew what she was going to say. "just go." she blushed as she picked up her book.

To be honest you were debating on teasing her with that near slip up but decided to leave it for now. You leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head, jimin looked up with a smile and pouted her lips slightly. After planting another kiss on her lips you left her alone and went back to minjeong to finish the Lego castle.

masterlist | next

#aespa smau #karina smau #yu jimin x reader

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nukedimplosion · 3 months

Text

Why I believe Spade King will be redeemed

The Spade King is a... controversial character to say the least. From what I've seen, opinions of him range from a complete monster to an abusive douche with little leeway.

So, making a post about how this villain will be redeemed in future chapters may seem like a slap in the face. Let it be known that none of this is to upset real survivors of abuse, but instead it is to highlight the many indicators I feel show that Spade King is not beyond redemption.

I personally have had this theory since around when chapter 2 came out, and time has only solidified it, but this is the first time I actually got the confidence to post it.

That being said, let's get into the evidence.

THE FOUNTAIN

In the 6th anniversary stream for Undertale, Fangamer played through an edited version of Deltarune with Toby Fox making comments about development, the characters etc.

When facing the Spade King, Fangamer talked about how they hoped Spade King had been a good dad 'before the other mouth grew in'.

Toby Fox then says this;

'I mean, I think that fountain definitely changed his behaviour. For sure.'

This quote is stated around the 3 hour mark of the livestream video below.

So what does this mean? You may want to argue that Toby was not be literal when he made this statement, and that the fountain was a simple temptation instead of something that directly effected his behaviour. But then there's the queen...

The queen seems to have also experienced this fountain brought phenomena despite only wanting to use it to serve the Lightners instead of oppose.

She threatens and attempts to kill the Lightners. She establishes a regime significantly more strict then the last. She won't stop going on about the Knight. These are all things the King does as well.

It seems that the fountain abstracts the behaviour of their respective rulers for the sake of the Knight.

Okay, so the fountain impacts the King's behaviour, great. Doesn't change the fact that he threatened his son, and refuses to apologise or acknowledge his wrong doing now the fountain is closed.

Well, that leads me onto the next part...

HIS SON

Let's immediately establish one thing; the Chaos King does care for his son. While how genuine that care is is debated by the fandom, I would like to make the case that he was a good dad and does want Lancer to be happy.

First of all is the quote about the fountain that Toby made in the anniversary stream, which was a reply to a comment about how Fangamer hoped that he was a good dad.

Replying then seems to indicate that the fountain did impact his ability to be a good father.

More importantly is his dialogue in jail.

Here, he asked directly if his son is happy, in hesitant, even reserved manner. This is in direct contrast to how he mocks the Lightners with his boisterous grin or cruel frown.

Remember when he was yelling that he'll 'KILL ALL OF YOU' while his subjects dragged him away? An insurrection led by his son, who he called a traitor? Despite this, he seems to hold no ill will towards his son or his fellow darkners (we'll get to that). This behaviour I believe was caused by the fountain, thus the attitude change.

And yes, I do acknowledge that he has lied for sympathy before (his act before Ralsei healed him in chapter 1), but this is different. There is no reason to lie at this point; there's no way they would believe him.

He also admits that if he HAD let his son go, Lancer would have just... bounced. He then calls his son a bouncy little pumpkin. This line is notably similar to a line right after Susie casts pacify on him, calling her a 'sweet little pumpkin', again hinting that he was a good dad before the fountain and his love towards Lancer isn't a lie.

'But' you may argue, 'Lancer was afraid! He knew his son was scared of him but kept threatening anyways!'

Which is a valid point, and is obviously horrible.

BUT combined with the fountain being an impact for his decisions, I think it is also a valid idea that there's more to it than 'The Spade King is abusive'.

Both the Queen and King are callous when it comes to the opinion and wellbeing of others. Queen spends the entirety of Chapter 2 attempting to force Noelle to do as she says, even threatening to kill her classmates (and crush) for the sake of her goal.

What King does is similar, making Lancer watch as his friends get killed because he didn't do as he said. It's cruel, yes, but this is another case where you can argue the fountain may have led to this mutual behaviour.

(You may argue that the Queen has the excuse of being a computer who isn't completely in tune with peoples emotions. This argument doesn't really make sense because she actively uses Noelle's emotions against her in a way that shows she understands how upset it makes her.)

I do believe that Spade King knew his son was upset and still went along with it. This post isn't some elongated argument for Spade King's sainthood.

But I do have to say, him being aware and still going along with it may explain why he's hesitant to talk about Lancer in his jail cell. He knows he messed up and is feeling guilty post-fountain, he's just too prideful to up and say it to the face of the enemy. What he did is not a show of Spade King's abusive inhernet nature but an example of the fountain clouding his full judgement at that moment.

Also, you may argue that Spade King was neglectful of his son, leaving him to Rouxls Kaard to be cared for. I do believe that there has been a bit of exaggeration on this point. Yes, he does put his son in the care of his employees perhaps more than he should, but he's also straight up a King. He's a busy guy.

'Oh, but he doesn't feed him, the poor boy is starving!'

Honestly, my big question is why he's cooking in the first place. He's a King, he has subjects literally fanning his son and he can't afford one chef? It seems like this is more a downtime thing he does with his son for the sake of family bonding (may explain where the food based nickname of 'sweet little pumpkin' came from) and he knows his son will be fed by his employees when he's busy.

Again, too dependent, but I don't see any signs of such an intense neglect to call him a bad dad.

Of course, this is more in the assumption category. It is possible the neglect is more active and that the King is just a douche, but I feel that we are being purposely mislead here.

Now, onto the final point.

HIS SUBJECTS

Let's talk about why Spade King did what he did.

Spade King hates Lightners, that much is obvious. He calls them scum, says that 'their existence goes against our own' and feels absolutely no guilt towards trying to kill them post-fountain.

Which isn't really not justified. Darkners were made to keep Lightners happy, only to be abandoned by them. The Chaos King has to watch as the kingdom, HIS kingdom, rotted without meaning. He had to raise his son with the understanding that he would never be 'truely happy' because the so called only source of happiness for Darkners left them to the wayside.

So, when the Knight came, is it really that surprising he would try to create a 'new purpose' as he said? Yes, perhaps world domination is a bit insane (maybe he's dramatic like that, maybe it was the fountain, he does hate Lightners so it's likely both) but the core of his ideals, that darkners can be something beyond what they are to Lightners is not only justified but correct.

In the scene where the gang are walking to the castle in Chapter 1, Lancer acknowledges how happy he is to be here, feeling like he's doing 'something important'. Ralsei replies that this is because he is serving the Lightners and that is the purpose of the Darkners.

Susie is notably uncomfortable, and dismisses Ralsei's point as 'weird purpose' talk and simply says that Lancer is just happy because he ate a weird berry. This is the first sign that the plot beat of Darkners only gaining happiness from Lightners is not just going to be an accepted status quo by the main cast and that there is likely to be more contention about the subject in the future.

(I would also like to mention that Ralsei in this scene asks if the Spade King is happy, in which Lancer very hesitantly says he's not sure.)

Then, in chapter 2, Ralsei is shown to be confused about friendship. He starts to understand that friendship is more than just being nice all the time and that he should be more 'Ralsei-like', meaning more like himself.

The problem is that he doesn't know what that is. He's spent all this time forming himself into the perfect companion but he doesn't know how to be himself. This is a result of his purpose, his wish to be the perfect Darkner for his friends. Now, his purpose seems more cloudy. Should he continue being the perfect little angel for his friends or should he become someone who is more genuine on their own terms, like what his friends seem to want?

While Ralsei is still doing everything he can for the Lighteners, he is slowly becoming his own individual, which is what the King wanted for all Darkners.

Then there's the general themes of control. Be it Kris, the secret bosses or the Spade King, all of these people wish to be more than the binds that control them. While the Spade King is acting on behalf of the Knight, he does so to free his people from the influence of the Lightners, to make purpose on their own terms and be their own people.

Just like how Kris wishes to be free from, you, the player, also making their own purpose and be their own person. May I remind you that the Darkners are media and toys, fun things meant to be enjoyed. They are in universe equivalents of video game characters, made to entertain Lightners, just like Kris, Ralsei and Susie are made to entertain us. The only difference is that the latter is closer to the forth wall.

So yes, while his world domination thing was wack, I believe the Spade King is righteous in his core values.

So why doesn't any other character seem to agree?

Ralsei completely believes that Darkners can only gain happiness from Lightners, Queen does everything she does for the sake of Lightners, hell, the town that the Darkners live in isn't named after the Prince or anything but you, a Lightner. They even call you boss!

At this point, the only character who cares for Darkners having a purpose outside of Lightners is locked in a jail cell.

Now, it is possible that Toby Fox introduces another character who has Spade King's beliefs but is less nasty about it, but that's lame. It's also possible that Ralsei has an epiphany and realise that Darkners deserve better and that becomes the result of his arc. Better, and I can see him going in that direction, but I still think it's less satisfactory.

In any route in which you don't get all recruits, the King is the only person who acknowledges this and is actively upset about it. Even the Queen is hesitant yet still ultimately okay with leaving her subjects behind because the Lightners are onboard.

The goofy cutscene where he asks for cashews? Gone. He simply remarks on how you left them behind like Lightners left the Card Kingdom darkners behind and tells you to 'Begone'. The first line is said with a smile, knowing that he's been proven right but after that, the smile leaves and he's just... cold. He seems genuinely upset about what happened to the Darkners you left behind, portrayed with a '...' in his second line and the loss of his smile. He is not trying to trick you, you simply disgust him at this point. He cares for Darkners in a way that no character has shown yet (aside from Nubert (the goat))

This is why the title of this post is why Spade King is GOING to be redeemed and not me saying he SHOULD be. The difference in levity between an interaction with the Spade King post full recruits and not full recruits indicates that by getting recruits, the King is more willing to acknowledge you and, perhaps with time, your points and intentions. If Spade King was supposed to be this abusive bastard, having characters such as the Queen be on positive terms with him seems strange. You can argue nuance all you want, but the Queen, a character who we're supposed to like, being friends with a character we're supposed to end up hating seems like a strange writing decision no matter how you slice it. Especially if he's a straight up child abuser.

(yes I know she might not know but are you really expecting an epic drama where Queen finds out he's an abusive scumbag and calls him out? Having a morally positive character be friends with an abuser can work but in this situation, it is objectively a weird choice and I will argue on that)

He asks for cashews in this chapter and suckles out a giant hamster water container. Maybe the second serves to make him look pathetic, but then the Queen apparently has the same thing but bigger. The cashew bit is played off as endearing more then anything.

This is all because you got those recruits. Without them, he doesn't even talk to you. Therefore, it can be concluded that Spade King does have a chance. After all, if all of him was completely against you and believed you would be bound to abandon them, he would not be talking to you in any route. It's only when you prove it directly that he stops.

Toby Fox uses the recruit dialogue to endear you to him, which I presume is to set up a redemption if you continue to go down the recruit everyone path. By proving him wrong in future chapters, I presume he will talk more about himself and his ideals and perhaps listen to the Fun Gang and his son in turn.

CONCLUSION

My prediction is that over the course of the chapters, players will see more and more endearing aspects of the Chaos King, with things such as his theoretical neglect and love for Lancer being properly clarified and elaborated on, but only if you keep all recruits. He will still be sceptical, perhaps even leading to him going against you when the Knight returns, but he will ultimately fight by your side if you have successfully convinced him through your treatment of the Darkners that Lightners aren't bad after all.

Hopefully by the ending point, Ralsei would have had enough of an extential crisis to hear the Spade King out on his whole 'Darkners deserve to be happy without the Lightners' deal. Susie would absolutely be on board with her friends finding happiness without needing Lightners (I can see her arguing with Ralsei about it in a future chapter).

I can see him sacrificing himself, but I don't want Lancer to deal with that.

The final point I would like to mention is his place in the narrative. A lot of people have argued that all he is meant to be in an objective evil to prove that Ralsei was wrong about fighting never being the answer and that a redemption would ruin that, and yes, that is his role is chapter 1.

But if that was his only purpose, bringing him back as the only person to actively acknowledge the consequences of your lack of recruits seems pointless. Giving him moments of endearment and clarifying he loves his son is unnecessary. You, again, can argue it's for the sake of nuance but I think at this point I have clarified that there is a lot more to it than that.

Besides, what would be more satisfying to see than the most stubborn character of your journey, the only one you could not convince in the chapter he appeared in, joining your side as a result of you sparing every darkner you can?

In a game with only one ending, making routes like full mercy seem worth it is kind of important if you want players to bother caring about those mechanics. The few dialogue changes we do get really don't cut it.

But witnessing the development of a character who you started off hating but then becomes your ally due to your decisions and comes to help you in your darkest hour?

That would be worth it.

---

Thanks for reading this theory! It's been a while since I've written a theory like that. Do say your opinions, I know this is a desisive topic but I am still happy to hear people's perspectives!

#deltarune #spade king #chaos king #deltarune theory #deltarune analysis #deltarune chapter 2

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sad-leon · 2 months

Note

Doe + Change

Doe expected things to change, but not this much.

She'd always felt more feminine than her brothers, but didn't really have a name for it until Donnie confirmed that she was, in fact, female. Her genius brother had helped her search it up. Transgender. There was a whole community out there like her.

Neat.

Except, they weren't really like her. She was lucky enough to be born in the right body, just raised differently. She didn't have to worry about hormones or surgery or other surface issues like jobs or school. She has her lovely supportive family.

So, fine. Maybe she didn't have a community, but she had her brothers and that was fine!

Until wrestling matches disappeared. And she was given first choice on movie nights even when she lost the arm wrestles or whatever silly little game they decided to play. And when she lost a game and was met with compassion instead of teasing.

It was starting to get annoying.

She already had a rough night, but the thought of Dad letting them go up to the surfact to patrol gave her hope. She could run with her brothers again! They could race! And things would finally be normal again when they realized that nothing actually changed.

A gentle knock on the wall caught her attention. "Hey, Doe? You up?" Mikey asked. Doe frowned. Usually her little brother wouldn't hesitate to barge into her room.

Taking a breath, she plastered a smile on her face and sat up. "Yup! We're going to the surface, right?"

Mikey lit up. He nodded aggressively. "Yup! Yup! Raphie told me to come get you while he gets Donnie!"

Standing up, Doe grabbed her jacket, tugging it loosely over her shoulders. "Was he in his lab late again?"

Shrugging, Mikey stepped to the sided, gesturing for Doe to leave the room while he closed the curtain behind her. "Raphie just said that he'd going to 'drag donnie out of that lab and barricade the door' if he keeps ignoring Raphie's knocks." Mikey lowered his voice to immitate the cadence of their oldest brother.

Trying to ignore the flare of annoyance at not even being allowed to close her own curtain, she chuckled. "Donnie will get back into his lab if it's the last thing he does."

The two youngest turtles made their way into the common area where Raph was tugging a beanie onto a very disgruntled Donnie.

Doe sidled up to the side of her twin and elbowed his side. "Someone wasn't sleeping, huh?"

Donnie just gave her a huff. "Scoff. I was just trying to finish up my newest battle shell."

Raph grumbled and pulled the beanie down over the softshell's eyes. "You went to bed two hours ago. I told you to stop doing that. You need to sleep!"

Fixing his beanie, Donnie glared at Doe. "Well atleast I slept."

Raph gawked and turned to Doe. "You didn't sleep? Why? Are you feeling okay?"

Doe rolled her eyes at the gentle tone her oldest brother adopted. "I slept fine."

"You were sending me memes until about an hour ago," Donnie grumbed. "I have the timestamps."

Trying to lunge at Donnie proved futile when Raph gentley intercepted Doe, setting her down a few feet away from her smug twin. His face was nothing but concern and he gently put a beanie on her head as well. No teasing. No pulling the beanie down. Just concern and gentleness.

Doe just huffed, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets and pouting.

Raph looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped and turned around, leading the way to the entrance of the lair. "Okay, you all know the rules. Stay close to me and don't run off. Again. Or Raph will be very upset. Again."

"Yes Raph," the three younger turtles agreed and followed Raph out the door and through the tunnels.

The surface was much colder than Doe had though. Her jacket was not thick enough at all, and she had also worn her thinest pair of sweats. Repressing her shivering, she pushed forward. It was fine, she'd be able to warm up once they got moving.

The beginning of the patrol was normal. They bantered. They raced. They jumped around. Then Doe slipped.

She was running to make a leap, slipped on a puddle near the edge of the roof and totally missed the next roof. She grabbed onto a windowsill and hauled herself up, climbing onto the next roof.

"Doe!" Raph had yelled. And even when she pulled herself up, he was looking at her with nothing but concern. He stepped back, getting some momentum to leap onto the rooftop next to Doe. "Are you okay?"

Doe shrugged away from his hands, fixing her coat and beanie herself. The annoyance was turning into irritation. It made her blood itch. "I'm fine Raph."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Mikey and Donnie landed onto the rooftop next to them only a moment later.

Expecting some sort of jab or tease, she turned toward her twin only to be met with concern. "Are your shoulders sore? Do you feel any tension when you move them?"

They were a little sore, but Doe wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of having an actual cause for concern. "What are you, Don? The medic?"

"No. But that looked like it could have potentially hurt."

Doe just rolled her eyes and turned away, planning to continue the patrol.

Raph put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "I think we should go home."

"What?" Doe hissed. The itching was become unbearable. Her hands twitched, as did her tail.

"You're tired and you're also probably sore, even if you don't feel it."

"I'm fine!"

Raph just groaned and starting to walk back the way they had just come. "Let's go."

Doe fumed. "No! We just go out here. Yeah, sure, fine. I slipped, but I'm fine!" She turned to Mikey and Donnie for support, but they were both angled toward Raph, frowning at her. "Really? Really?! I make one little mistake and suddenly we have to go home?!"

"You got hurt-" Mikey started.

"I'm not hurt! I'm fine! I slipped, I biffed it, took an L -- whatever you wanna call it -- and I'm flattered you guys are concerned about lil ol' me, but really? No teasing? No nothing?" Venom was starting to lace Doe's tone but she couldn't care less. "Gah! Ever since I came out you guys have changed! I just want what we used to have back!"

Raph looked stunned, but took a breath and said in the most annoying calm voice, "I know you're tired, but we're just concerned."

"Gahh!" Doe yelled, throwing her hands in the air. "Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! I'm sick of this!" She sent a glare at her oldest brother before turning around and running.

-----------

Threw this one up on Ao3 :D

it was much longer than i meant it to be... oops

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wake-me-up-inside-imagines · 10 months

Note

Can you do Nobunaga from hxh with a teenage daughter that has really bad attachment issues and separation anxiety and overall very clingy and physical affectionate (sorry it’s very specific) 🤍🫶

Ooh I love Nobunga. I hope you enjoy!

Nobunga with a teenage daughter who has attachment issues and separation anxiety

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks

Fem! reader

-I think out of all the troupe members, Nonbunga's probably one of the better people to have as a dad when it comes to anxiety, or honestly just a better dad in general

-He's pretty laid back so he doesn't really mind how clingy you are, he's content with you chilling near him during troupe meetings or during down time

-He doesn't mind how affectionate you are either, he just lets cling to him whenever (unless he's doing something super important)

-The troupe is kinda like a big, fucked up family so they don't mind you being there either, you get along with most of the members quite well actually

-Because of his laid back nature, I feel like just being around him helps you feel less anxious, he exudes this careless attitude and it rubs off on you

-He personally doesn't have anxiety so he doesn't really get why you get upset when not with him, but he knows better than to tease you over it

-If you aren't also a member of the troupe, he definitely doesn't take you on missions (he doesn't want you getting hurt) but he'll see if Chrollo will allow him to leave another member with you while he's gone

-It's not the same as having him there and he knows it, but he hopes that being with someone you know and are close with will help relieve some of the anxiety

-During panic attacks he's more awkward, he's not great at verbal comfort so he just lets you cling on to him in hope that the panic will pass

-Despite his laid back nature, Nobunga's pretty protective of you so if anyone tries to mess with you or if somethings making you anxious he's shutting that shit down immediately

-A lot of the troupe members look out for you too, specifically Maki Pakunoda, Shizuku and Uvogin

-Because of how close Uvogin is to Nobunga, he's become like your unhinged but cool uncle who watches out for you. Pakunoda's practically your mom at this point, and Machi and Shizuku are like your older and younger sisters

-Sometimes Nobunga sends you off to have a girls night with the other girls in the troupe because he feels like you would benefit from learning how to go out and have fun without him there

-He does slowly try to get you used to not being around him all the time just in case something happens to him and you have to live without him (I mean he does have a pretty dangerous job) but he's still mindful of how severe you anxiety is and he'll never intentionally shove you far out of your comfort zone

-10/10 dad we love Nobunga in this house

(This post has made me discover that if I put a read more tab on a post it automatically undoes the row of pictures I've dragged together and puts them on top of one another instead of side by side like how I sorted them, so if anyone knows how to fix that I would appreciate your expertise)

#x reader #platonic x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh x reader #nobunga x reader #daughter reader #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #nobunga #nobunga hxh

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pinkrelish · 2 years

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶Upon reflection, it was obvious. The tragedy lurking under the surface of your intentions when you came over that night. He could sense something was off, but he ignored it, just wanting to see you smile on your birthday. Years later, standing across from you in a parking lot, he sure as fuck wasn't smiling.✶

NSFW — angst, eventual smut, slow burn, drug/alcohol mention/use, disordered eating by proxy of parent

chapter: 2/15 [wc: 3.3k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 2: Eddie's Worst Memory

––1982––

Eddie pedaled his bike as hard as could, cutting a stark line in the grass where he wove between trailers, keeping a sharp eye on the one across from his. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn. He hopped off his bike, and instead of putting it away properly, he gathered the groceries from the wire basket into his arms, and kicked it under the makeshift porch, out of sight. He wouldn’t necessarily mind if the bike was stolen, but he’d be about as upset as the original person he borrowed it from.

Slamming his shoulder into the door, he hurried his hoard to the kitchen counter and spilled it there, catching the jar of frosting from rolling off the edge. “Okay.” He inhaled deep through his nose and nodded at his task. The box of cake mix was dented. The carton of eggs was.. leaking onto the candles. However, in the early afternoon sun, the bottle of waxy pastel sprinkles shined delightfully. “Time to get to work.”

Using his finger to follow the line of directions, a crease matured between his eyebrows. “The hell is an egg white?”

~~~

It was worth it. It was worth it. It was goddamn going to be worth it.

“Stupid.. fucking,” he said through gritted teeth, scraping the bottom of the round pan, adding the shredded pieces of crispy cake to the top of his lumpy attempt at baking.

Around him, his kitchen was in an impressive state of disarray. More than usual. Two eggs were splattered on the floor. Powdery cake mix dusted every surface. His face was flushed red from having to make an emergency run to the grocery store a second time for spray oil (which he forgot to use) and his uncle’s instant coffee–it was the least he could do after waking him up by knocking over a skillet left on the stovetop. All in all, it was worth it. Kinda.

He stuck his tongue out in concentration. Spreaded the best layer of white frosting he could and mixed two drops of red coloring into the rest and dumped it in a ziploc bag, snipping the corner. With it, he wrote a message in thin pink letters on top.

It was rare he experienced this pang of joy in his chest. This exciting surge of antsy giddiness. His cheeks hurt from grinning, and he didn’t care if his uncle gave him an odd look for it.

Tossing the bag in the trash and sucking on his sticky fingers, Eddie Munson stepped back to admire his work, and as swiftly as the pride puffed out his chest, it popped his ego.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and reasoned with the cake, “How the fuck did I miss the ‘h’ in birthday?”

Uncle Wayne paused on his way out the door. “She comin’ over later?”

Contemplating starting the entire process over again, Eddie dragged a hand down his face and peered out the kitchen window at the infuriating closed curtains opposite his. “Yeah. Eventually.”

Wiggling his mustache back and forth, Wayne set his gaze on something in the distance. “You two are close, aren’t ya?”

“Is this going somewhere?”

“I left you somethin’ on your nightstand just in case, yanno, be safe, or what-have-ya.” He brought the mug of coffee to his lips and sipped loudly.

“We’re just friends,” Eddie enunciated, giving him a pointed stare from beneath his dark curly hair.

His uncle’s shoulders shook in an all-too-aware laugh. “That’s what I always told my parents.. until your dad caught us and ratted me out.” Zipping his work coveralls the rest of the way, he waved and made his exit. “Well, see ya.”

Eddie gesticulated at the trailer around him, bewildered. “Sure, bye, I guess after dropping that one on me.”

Silence fell where he stood. There was really nothing else for him to do to prepare for you coming over, besides checking the window once more to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind and that your mom’s car was indeed parked out front. Deciding to waste some time, he picked up his guitar in his room and worked on riffs to bring to the table for his band the next day.

But not before putting away the condoms on his nightstand first.

~~~

When Eddie next woke, darkness greeted him. Swallowed him whole. Disoriented him in the bathroom where he quickly brushed his teeth. Robbed his sight when he stumbled into his living room, where his beacon called to him. Your kitchen curtains were pulled back and you were at the sink washing dishes.

Flicking on a few lights, he opened the door and leaned into the frame, waiting for you to notice him.

You must’ve been lost in the trenches of your thoughts. Quite the while passed until you snapped your head up; he didn’t mind though, having the spare moments to observe you do something ordinary like a chore; entranced by the domestic act, and equally humbled as if it were an uneven bar routine he could watch you perform for hours on end. At this distance, he could see your face liven upon meeting his eye, and you slowed your motions, staring at him through the glass, the night sky, and everything else keeping you apart. You spoke to someone he couldn’t see. Your body language was calculated. Drying the plate in your hand during the brief exchange and setting it down gently, agreeing to what they were saying. Then, you picked up something and left.

In a flash, he was lifting his arm for you to duck under, and narrowed his eyes at the bundle you had hugged to your chest. “What’s that?”

You released a drawn out, “Uh,” at his question, biding your time to keep from answering. Searching for an empty space on his couch to put the neatly folded stack of clothes and opting for the cleaner coffee table. You set them down with care, tucking a tag into the collar. “It’s everything you let me have over the years. Band tees, jackets, a hoodie. I wanted to give them back to you.”

Confused, he shrugged you off. “They don’t mean that much to me. You can have them. I don’t care.”

You stared at them. A long tick of the second hand on the clock in his kitchen. An erratic desperation in your moves. Rocking in sync with your breaths. Bloodshot eyes and large pupils obsessing over each rip, each stain, each graphic tee he got at a concert you missed when you had an out of town meet. Biting at your chapped lips. Hiding your torn cuticles by stuffing your hands in the pockets of the jacket you wore.. His black jacket with a patch of Anthrax's anarchy symbol on the bicep, and beneath his jacket was his old baby blue 1977 Black Sabbath tour shirt.

He smiled. “What about the ones you’re wearing?”

“You really want this one from when you were a kid? It’s tight even on me, bu–t,” you elongated the vowel, “I did hear crop tops were coming back into fashion if you need it that badly.”

“I think I’ll pass for now, but thank you for the consideration.” You smiled, and it put him further on edge. Nothing about it was genuine; simply a hollow favor to keep him from prying. And it may be the first time in Eddie’s life he couldn’t discern what was bothering you. “Are you okay?”

“I just want us to have a normal night tonight. The usual.”

“Sure.. We can do that. To the Lonely Mountain?”

“To the Lonely Mountain.”

He followed you into his room and began rummaging through his shelves for the worn paperback. Behind him, you sunk into the mattress, serving as a reminder of your patience as the springs squeaked and he dug further into the recesses of his bookcase. It should’ve been easy to locate, having read from it last week, but he’d had a few advancements in his business, one could say, and now it was buried under bags of bud and other paraphernalia.

“Have you considered cleaning up in here every once in a while?”

“And have you miss out on this great show?” He smacked his ass, jangling the chains on his jeans. “Not a chance.”

“I hate being here.”

“You love being here.”

Digging to the very back, he found his used copy of The Hobbit at the exact time he heard another squeak of his mattress and a little ‘aw,’ sounding like you were cooing over something adorable.

“Hm?” He turned around and zeroed in on what you were fawning over.

You flipped through the spiral bound notebook of lyrics he forgot to put away. “You wrote this poem? These lines are really sweet, Ed–”

It was ripped from your hands and hurled over his shoulder. The notebook smacked the opposite wall, falling to the floor in a spectacular fanning of the pages. “Nope.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay..” Blinking, you clasped your hands politely to occupy the notebook-shaped space they created when he so rudely interrupted your innocent curiosity. “Uh.. Should we get to reading, then?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

With the intensity of his unwavering eye contact, he approached the bed, hardly waiting for you to make room for him before he was kneeling on the edge, climbing to lay in the middle. You shared his one pillow. Heads together. Bodies a mere suggestion of separation. Your hair mixed with his. He’d grown it past his ears and though you were laying on the ends, the weight of your body next to him was worth the pain. He’d endure it for the next eternity if it meant making you happy.

Reaching for his nightstand with his limited mobility, he jerked the lamp closer by its cord and found the metal tin he kept on the edge.

He offered you a joint poised between his fingers. You said, “Not tonight,” and he put it away, accepting your request to remain sober.

“Whatever the lady wants on her day.” Eddie found the dog-eared page you left off on and bent the cover in his palm until it curled backwards, and thus began reading chapter fifteen out loud to you. Including the voices.

~~~

Neither of you could imagine what hour it was.

Neither of you cared.

“They had forgotten Thorin! Part of the wall, moved by levers, fell outward with a crash into the pool. Out leapt the King under the Mountain, and his companions followed him,” Eddie treated the oncoming paragraphs with a softer tone, slowing his cadence to ease into the scene, “The Wargs were scattered and Thorin drove right against the bodyguard of Bolg. But he could not pierce their ranks. Already behind him among the goblin dead lay many men and many dwarves, and many a fair elf that should have lived yet long ages merrily in the wood. And as the valley widened his onset grew ever slower. His numbers were too few. His flanks were unguarded. Their friends could not help them.”

You’d been eerily calm. He’d think you had fallen asleep if it weren’t for your muscles coiled like a snake in wait. If it weren’t for his sleeve caught in your sweaty fist.

He turned the page. “On all this Bilbo looked with misery.”

Your body began to tremble; a gentle shiver along his, and then you sniffled.

“I always knew you were a Thorin fangirl,” he remarked. “When we read this a few years ago, you cried then, too.” Shaking harder, you buried your face against his arm and used your hands to shield him from witnessing the speed at which you went from silent tears wetting his shirt to out-right sobs.

Wide-eyed, he lowered the book to his chest. “..This isn’t about Thorin, is it?” The density of his question hung in the air. Guilt steeped in his thoughts the longer you didn’t answer. You’d been acting weird since you got here and the desperation of not knowing what to do ate at his nerves. Seeing you upset and not knowing why, or how to make it better.

Meek, he asked of you, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t,” came a muffled high-pitched whimper from his best friend in the entire world.

He dug his nails into the book cover. For years, fear kept him vigilant in the sanctity of your relationship. Friends. Nothing more, nothing less. One of the few pure things in his life he couldn’t stand to ruin, despite the building pressure like embers to a roaring fire to do something drastic. To be something more and being terrified of the chance of less.

Suppressing his urges, he pressed his cheek to the crown of your head; the most he would allow himself to do, even in the midst of water stinging his eyes. He pleaded, mouth sticky with thick saliva, “Then tell me how to fix it.”

“Keep reading to me.. Please, Eddie.”

“Okay.” The little word was sighed into your hair.

Picking up The Hobbit again, he propped it further down his stomach to where you could read along, if you desired. And with blurry vision, he continued with the story, reciting Bilbo’s speech where he sees help in the distance, and the subsequent exchange on Thorin’s deathbed when it was too late. Reading to you until his voice tired and his eyelids fell. Supporting your head on the dip between his bicep and his chest, welcoming you to his spoken vibrations as he came to a close one chapter before the end.

“We’ll save it for next time,” he said. “I’m about to fall asleep.”

“Yeah, same.” You sat up and twisted both ways to pop your spine.

In the background, almost indistinguishable from the hum of the refrigerator, was The Doors’ Riders on a Storm Eddie put on earlier during a bathroom break. Nothing was quite as poignant as the repeating lyrics of ‘Girl, you gotta love your man,’ the moment your gazes met on his bed.

“I forgot I made you something,” he lied. How could he ever forget the disaster he created.

“Made me something?”

He told you to close your eyes and helped you off the bed, earning your giggle and allaying the remaining dread of the evening. Walking backwards, he held your wrists and led you to the kitchen. Able to memorize your face for as long as he wanted without having to look away when you inevitably noticed. Hearing your change in mood and knowing he was the one who caused it.

Labels be damned. Few things could make him more content in life than he was now, and he had to be okay with the thrill of letting go of you by dragging his fingertips over your calloused palms, and pausing for a beat, almost holding your hands.

“Okay, cover your eyes,” he said, setting everything up.

“But they’re already closed?”

“I don’t trust you not to peek.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I can just peek through my fingers.”

“Do it.” He patted down his pockets, finding a lighter. “Or else.”

“Whatever.” You complied.

Quickly, he counted sixteen candles from the box and lit them, finding vacant spaces on the cake to stake them, wrestling with the idea of covering his mistake. “You can look now!”

Dropping your hands, you immediately cupped them to your cheeks in surprise. “You actually made me a cake? Like, by yourself? That’s so sweet.” You pouted his name, “Eddie, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

His grin broadened. He bent over to fold his arms on the counter and swayed his hips to rid himself of excess energy, regarding you over the blazing candles. “Who said I made it? I could’ve bought it.”

You slid your gaze from the cake, to him. “It says Happy Birt’day.”

“Alright, alright,” he yielded. “Make a wish before the wax melts.”

Finding the ordeal corny, you blew them out without doing the whole stereotypical shutting-eyes-and-wishing thing. “Thank you. Really.”

He took out the candles. “Do you want a piece?” Regret tinted the room the second he asked. It put the onus on you to answer, to reject his efforts. And just like when you stared at the stack of clothes in the strange way which raised the hair on his arms, you looked at the cake as if nothing else in the room existed except for the hard work he put into making you smile.

“You don’t have to–” he started.

“I’ll take a piece.”

“You sure?”

You nodded, shifting your focus to him. “A big piece. You made it for me.”

Taking out a paper plate and butter knife, he changed the subject, “Wanna come to practice tomorrow? Jeff said he convinced the new kid, Gareth, to join us, so we’ll have a drummer again.” He handed you a triangle of “HAP.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“Sweet, uh.” Eddie’s lopsided grin grew tantamount to the bundle of nerves in his stomach. Pushing himself off the counter, he punched his fist into his palm a few times, swinging side to side. “Uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Appealing to him in the most adorable way possible, you smiled with true mirth reflected in your eyes and held the slice of cake up.

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

Crouched outside in the shadow of his trailer, you stuffed cake and frosting in your mouth until it burned your throat, coating your lips in fat. Devouring it with vengeance and crumpling the paper plate. Across from you, your mother’s silhouette moved in the curtained bedroom window. An insurmountable sense of pride overwhelmed you. Unstoppable rebellion. Eating a food she banned, citing cheap sugars would slow you down on the vault. How stupid. You had never felt more alive scrubbing your mouth clean on your sleeve and entering your trailer stacked full of moving boxes.

––1985––

Admitting defeat, you pulled into the parking lot of Starcourt Mall. After wasting an appalling amount of gas driving all over town in a frustrating attempt to locate a single person, you were starving for the food court, hoping they added new restaurants since you left.

“Really, how hard can finding one person be?” you grumbled.

You drove to the back of the lot where people seldom parked for the few free spots on the busy Saturday night, and grabbed your purse from the passenger seat. And when you glanced for the source of the rowdy voices near you, you spotted four guys claiming the corner of the pavement as theirs. Three were standing, passing around a bag of gummy worms, laughing at the one flat on his back, shouting for his skateboard before it rolled into the empty street.

Seemed like a fun time.

You opened your door, locked it, and started to walk away.

But then one of them spoke. Blood rushed in your ears, rendering what he said unintelligible. Didn’t matter. You knew it better than your own.

Slowly, you turned around to confirm your fear.

There he was. Having fun with his friends. The one you wished to speak to, and yet as your lips parted, your throat closed.

Eddie took a long drag on his cigarette and adjusted how he leaned on the car, angled to Jeff who was explaining something he was passionate about, nearly spilling his soda on the other guy you couldn't recall the name of.

“I’m telling you, man, a bard is the way to go!”

“No way,” he said, blowing smoke from his nostrils as he continued, “If you start bringing a lute to our games, I’m gonna–”

“Eddie?”

They all stopped their conversation. Three faces of indifference, one of escalating animosity upon seeing you. Evoking a memory so intense it glinted a warning in his eyes boring into yours.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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nerves-nebula · 11 months

Note

a gift i made in like an hour don’t judge it too harshly it’s like midnight and i’m procrastinating studying for my finals 🙏

⚠️TW⚠️: CSA, incest, child abuse

*throws this and runs away*

the day started badly.

it was warm, and for the first time in a while there was some food in the fridge, leo wasn’t throwing a bitch-fit and the lair should still be clean from his duties last night.

but none of that mattered.

because dad was upset.

and when dad was upset, everyone was upset.

he tried to ignore it, tried to let the droning, mindless creature take control of his body, take control of his mind so he didn’t have to, so he could relax. but he couldn’t. every time the man’s footsteps dragged across the cool concrete floors, raph’s shoulders would tense.

his ears would tune in to any move, any noise that would clue splinter into a sudden rage so he could be a step ahead of him. the presence would drag him back to consciousness every time.

just another thing he’s forced to do.

the steam from the pot below him warmed his cold hands, defrosted the ice buried in the grooves of his fingers as he added ingredients and stirred with precision so natural, it might as well have been mechanical.

twice left.

once right.

the liquid boiled beneath him, softly bubbling against the confines of the walls the pot held it in. the heat pricked his fingers uncomfortably.

twice left.

once right.

someone was making noise. voices. the familiar words from his siblings were muffled behind the lairs doors.

mikey and leo. donnie wouldn't be out of his room yet.

twice left.

once right.

a heart beat quickly in the chest he resided in, pumping adrenaline through his veins. the voices were getting louder. they’d be yelling soon.

twice left.

…

how many times right?

green hands shook around the wooden spoon, no longer circling the pot. the soup bubbled fiercely beneath him, hypnotic to his eyes as he stared at the concoction.

one.

two.

pop.

the corners of his vision flickered hazily to static. his gaze didn’t move.

one.

two.

pop.

“-god, you can be such a dick sometimes!”

“don’t get upset because i take training more seriously than you!”

one.

two.

pop.

“training? you think this is about training?”

“what else would it be about? it’s not like you can contribute anything else of worth to this clan!”

one.

two.

pop.

“maybe i don’t wanna be a part of the clan! maybe i should just take MY brothers and leave!”

one.

“oh, cause that worked so well last time! i know you have the IQ of a goldfish, mikey, but don’t you remember you got caught?”

two.

“because you don’t want us to leave, but you don’t want us around either! leo, what the fuck do you want us to do? it’s not our fault you’re fucking psychotic! if you weren’t such an asshole then-”

“can you two SHUT UP!”

pop.

silence fell in the sewer. the air was still, charged with a current of anticipated anxiety. his breath left him in pants, hands shaking under the white knuckle grip against the lip of the counter.

his veins flooded with ice, jolting through his fingers and toes, melting down the nerves of his legs. his face was flushed red earth radiated from his cheeks.

he heard a door close somewhere in the house.

his breath caught in his throat, a quiet, struggled whine leaving his lips instead as the oxygen cut itself off.

a pair of footsteps dragged slowly closer, agonizingly slow. patient, like he had all the time in the world, like no matter how long he took, what he was looking for would still be there when he arrived.

he would. he knew he wouldn’t run even if he could. his feet stayed planted against the concrete.

“red.”

his blood went cold.

“follow me.”

he could see leo and mikey in the corner of his vision, peaking around the corner of the door frame. mikey’s breathing was strained and subtle, watching with panicked eyes.

leo was silent.

he desperately tried to wrangle a breath into his constrained lungs, as he turned off the heated stove with shaky hands. splinters back was to him. somehow that made everything more demeaning.

he lowered his gaze to scowl at the ground. splinter walked casually, almost nonchalantly towards the dojo, and raph felt his heart freeze again.

the door slid open with a creaking ‘whoosh’, and raph obediently closed it behind him, much to his dismay.

splinter walked to the head of the room, his usual place in front of a faded mural depicting the hamato clan through the ages. the paint was dull and chipping, the faces too worn down to make out anything other than initial basic features.

it still made him feel watched.

“kneel.”

raph knelt at his father's feet, face hot with rage and shame boiling under the surface of his skin.

he tried to let the parasitic creature in his mind dig it’s claws into his frontal lobe, stabbing a razor sharp tail into his hippocampus to blind his memory from whatever was about to happen.

he stayed in control.

“what,” splinters voice was low and dangerous, a facade of calm masking the brewing storm beneath the words. “was so important, you had to disturb me with your pointless whining?”

was raph supposed to speak? was that his cue? was this a trick question?

he opened his mouth to stumble over a useless explanation, but he was cut off sharply before anything could leave his beak.

“well? i’m waiting!”

“i just- mikey and leo were- “

a sigh quieted him instantly, his mouth snapping shit with an audible ‘click’.

“red, you understand you’re lucky, yes?”

“…yes sensei.”

“do you know what my father would have done to me if i did the same stunt you just pulled?”

trick question.

“he would have been much crueler with his punishment, sensei.”

“good.”

a thin, clawed hand landed on his shoulder, the grimy fur felt rough against his skin.

the hand rubbed gently, back and forth on his scales, and he cut his airway off, closing his throat to stop the anxious, distressed churr from leaving his mouth.

“red. you’re a good student.”

…

what?

“you’re strong, you have potential to serve this clan well. you could be a ferocious ninja one day.”

raph stayed silent. there was no manual for how to navigate this.

“do you know why i’m so hard on you?”

“…no sensei..?”

like a switch, the clawed hand dug into his flesh, and a whimper bubbled in his throat. he fought it down, along with the vomit churning in his stomach.

“it’s because while you have physical qualities the hamato clan prides themselves in, you are a disaster mentally.”

i wonder who’s fault that is.

“you are disobedient, your self control lacks anything of worth, you’re too quick to anger, and you are nothing this clan stands by. why haven’t you fixed this yet? why do you cling to the resolve of your flaws so desperately?”

“…sensei i- “

“and that’s another one of your issues! you’re impatient and disrespectful.” the grip on his shoulder loosened a fraction, sharp claws retracting from his skin. a shallow breath escaped his lips.

“look at me.”

the hand trailed lower.

no.

ice clotted in his veins, his muscles tensed under pale, flushed skin.

“dad i don’t- “

“that’s your problem,” the rat hissed through his teeth, eyes narrow and daring. “you think you get a say.”

his claws hit the ridge of his plastron, and he lightly trailed his hand along the ledge.

raph was gonna puke.

he couldn’t do this again.

“you think you’re in control of things you can’t even comprehend,” splinter seethed, running his finger through the dip down the middle of his front, roughly where his chest would have been.

acid green eyes stayed locked on the ground, and he prayed splinter couldn’t feel the frantic drum of his heart in his chest. the man shifted, crouch down closer to the ground.

“tell me,” he demanded. “tell me who’s in control.”

…

“you, sensei.”

“tell me who you owe your life to; who gave you a roof over your head and food on your table, who you would be dead without?”

“you sensei.”

“and yet you act so ungrateful. all i want is one day of peace and quiet, but you can’t go one minute without whining and complaining, can you?”

“…”

“i asked you a question!”

he angrily blinked the tears out of his eyes, face flushing in shame and humiliation as his body lit a distressed fire through his skin, the furry hand landing roughly on the skin of his thigh.

“…no sensei,” he whispered. his voice broke pathetically as he futility attempted to steady his trembling breath.

his eyes caught sight of his other hand in his peripheral vision, before it settled on his chin, aggressively ripping his chin up, forcing their gazes to meet.

“i’m feeling generous today. you get one more chance.” his breath was hot and acidic where it hit leathered green skin. “don’t waste it. if you pull shit like this again, i’m going to pull you back in here, and show you who really has the poser here. is that what you want?”

he fought desperately to keep his eyes dry and connected with his fathers, pitifully steadying his shaking breath.

“no, sensei.”

“yeah, that’s what i thought. are you going to be good?”

“yes sensei.”

all at once, the hands left him, and his lungs took a greedy breath of grateful, relieved air.

splinter didn’t give him the time of day, casually walking towards the doors of the dojo. “i expect dinner on the table when i get back out there. you have five minutes.”

the door shut, locking the room in an oppressive silence.

his feet were shaky and unsteady beneath him as he stumbled back onto his legs, patting towards the door.

mikey didn’t meet his eyes when he saw him on his way towards the kitchen, but the sight of tears glistening along the path they dropped off his face set in an emotion raph couldn’t name a light in his chest.

leo glanced at him from the couch, expression blank and untelling. he said nothing, just pursing his lips and looking away from him, a fleeting, subtle look of guilt flashing through his eyes.

the soup was already dished out when he got to the kitchen. the dishes were drying on the rack.

he could have sworn his bowl was more full than it should have been.

he didn’t take the time to linger on the thought as the skittering sound of footsteps hitting the concrete floor bounced off the walls.

the rest of the night passed in a haze. only blurry images whipping through his mind at any chance of recollection he attempted to take.

the mattress under him was ratty and old, but the cotton inside of it provided a familiar comfort as he lay in the dip his body had worn over time.

the day started badly. the lair was warm with sunlight; the food was fresh in the fridge.

but the feeling of grime under his skin was just as present, and it would last far longer than some fucking food.

i don’t know how to write splinter man, all i know is that he’s a piece of shit who craves control cause he lost the control of his own life 😭

uh. ur welcome?

HEY. HEY. LOOK AT ME. WHEN I FINISHED THIS I SAT BACK AND ACTUALLY SCREAMED "AAAH. FUCKK" OUT LOUD. THIS IS. THIS MAKES ME FEEL. AUGHSAUGHAH ??? I HAD TO ILLUSTRATE HOW THIS MADE ME FEEL CAUSE THERE WAS NO BETTER WAY TO DO IT I. I. AUGHHHHHH.

#nnstuff #ask #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected fic #FOR REAL THO THIS CAME AT A PERFECT TIME IREALLY NEEDED THIS THANK YOU #csa tw #incest tw #sa tw #child abuse tw #abuse tw #tmnt raph #tmnt splinter #nnart

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