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#scenes that made me leave the room as a child
boltlightning · 1 year
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look! the moonlight shows us for what we really are. we are not among the living, and so we cannot die — but neither are we dead.
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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen
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⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader
⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.
⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort
⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
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The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 
Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.
"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."
Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.
Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 
“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 
Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.
However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.
Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 
Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."
As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.
"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.
With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.
She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.
Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 
Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.
Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.
Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.
“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.
Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.
Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.
Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.
"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.
"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."
You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.
Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.
Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.
In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.
As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."
Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."
The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.
"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"
You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.
“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 
Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 
Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.
It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 
“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”
You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.
As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.
"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"
Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."
Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.
"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."
“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.
Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.
"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."
Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.
Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"
“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.
Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."
Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.
Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.
As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.
When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."
Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."
The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 
The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.
Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 
When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 
Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."
Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."
Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.
"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.
Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.
He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."
You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."
You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."
"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.
You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.
Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.
You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."
“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”
“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 
As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.
Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.
"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."
His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.
You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"
A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 
The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.
As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.
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⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one
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1K notes · View notes
tojikai · 7 months
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Sundered 7: TIES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 …+
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of sexual assault
word count: 6.0k
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And he was happy. But never the happiest.
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Naomi couldn’t count how many calls she had made but the wetness in her cheeks is proof of how frustrated she already is. “Please, pick up.” She bit the inner side of her cheeks, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. Naomi regrets what she did. She regretted that she still proceeded despite knowing how wrong it was.
She warned herself not to be greedy at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered telling him they’d take it step by step, not rushing anything because they were determined to make it work. Now that she’s thinking about it, maybe he’s only determined because he wanted to forget about you so badly.
“Mom, please. He threw me out.” Naomi spoke on the phone, tapping her feet as she stood in the middle of her room with her things around her. She took all the things necessary and left. Satoru would probably put everything she left in the trash but that’s the least of her concern right now. She lost everything she had with Satoru and it’s all because of her stupidity.
“What did you expect? You sexually assaulted my son and you want me to help you?” The woman hissed at her. Naomi was naive; thinking that she’ll have her back just because she wanted her for Satoru. “If anything I could even get you arrested—” She began but Naomi was quick to defend herself.
“You’re part of this. Didn’t you basically tell me to use a child to keep your son?!” Tears of anger pooled in her eyes as her hands shook in fear, fury, and heartbreak. Naomi remembered when Satoru’s mom would free her schedule so she could spend time with him and Yui. She would suggest activities and let Naomi tag along and that’s how they started to fall for each other.
Or rather, that’s how she started to fall for him while he just wanted an escape.
“But I never told you to do that to my son! Naomi, do you really think someone would side with you on this?” Every corner of Naomi’s room felt like they were closing in on her, ready to squeeze her till she was nothing but dust. Of course, no one would be with her. No matter what Satoru’s mother told her, she still chose to follow it so the blame’s on her.
“For someone who finished school with flying colors, your mind is dull.” She chuckled, letting Naomi hear all she truly is. “You got a pretty face, you know? That’s another reason why you caught Satoru’s eyes easily.” At that point, Naomi didn’t know if it was still a compliment. She’s pretty and kind, and smart and perfect for him, like she said. But why can’t she have all of him?
“But I’m afraid that pretty face would be useless now. If I were you I’d go start over alone somewhere far.” She clicked her tongue, cutting Naomi’s thoughts off every time she tried to voice them out. “Like, imagine graduating only to get jailed over some dumb, desperate shit? Naomi, you screwed up. And that’s why you lost all chances with my son.”
Naomi shook her head, the warmness of her emotions dampened the smooth skin of her face. “No, you made me…” She breathed out, covering her mouth before running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to do that…No.” She bawled and bawled but the line only went more and more silent.
She fucked up and she’s right. The shame and the loss of self-respect are not something she could live through in this city. She must go, she must leave. Like how they always did when she was a kid; fleeing the scene with her embarrassment of a family who can’t live without humiliating them. They have no decent source of living so they gotta strive.
Now, she’s doing all of it again, all while losing all of it. Again.
“Save yourself. I won’t let them know of your plan. After all, you were once of help to my child. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the call ended; with Naomi sitting on the floor as she put a balled hand over her throbbing chest, and the thought of going away to start as someone new settled in the middle of her head. Naomi learned a lot from all the troubles she went through.
This time, she learned that you could have someone's body but their heart could still be somewhere else.
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“What is it?” Satoru heard through the phone speaker. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, letting relief flood his veins and calm his shaking flesh. “When are you free?” There was a long pause before Satoru’s father replied, “You know I can make time.” Clearing his throat, Satoru massaged his temples, thanking the heavens that his nightmares weren’t real.
“Let’s meet later if that’s alright.” He whispered, scared that his voice would break. Satoru knows that he is the only link between the relationship of his parents. Just like how his older brother would’ve been the connection his father was hoping to keep his first, real love close. Until they got tired of it all; the matters brought by his mother. And him.
Just like how she drained Satoru out. And right now he just wanted to run away from her too.
“Of course, just send me the exact time.” Satoru nodded as if his father could see him, “Are you alright?” He asked after a few seconds as if sensing the trouble from his son’s voice. “Yeah, much better now, at least.” Satoru rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, eyeing the negative results of the vaginal swab test. “Dad, Mom can’t know.”
He’s almost sure that the request would prompt questions from his father, knowing that he’s aware of how close he is to his Mom. But he was surprised when he simply agreed, murmuring an “Okay.” before letting his son end the call. Satoru pictured him on his office chair as he nodded away, brows furrowed with worry like he always is when it comes to family matters.
When Satoru was a child, his nanny would tell him that his father wasn’t always so workaholic when his ex-wife was still there, co-parenting with him. After she ran away and left, his father started to immerse himself in work more. He knows that he tried with his mother since they were already there and married. But it was just never the same.
His father was happy with them. But he could never be the happiest again.
Leaning back on the chair, he put a hand over his eyes and let his frustrations stream down his cheeks. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing the papers before looking at them in a brighter light. It’s negative. Nothing happened. You woke him up just in time. He tapped on Naomi’s contact, quickly typing his last message before attaching a photo of the results.
‘I’m mailing the rest of your things tomorrow.’ It only took a minute for her to respond with an apology but Satoru doesn’t care anymore to read it. He blocked the number as soon as he made sure that she received and read the message. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near her.
He knows he is wrong for not telling her about his feelings as soon as he can. But that doesn’t equal what she did to him and what she almost got them into. Satoru checked the clock before sending the time to his father, hoping to end all of this mess before the mess ended him.
His mother has been calling him nonstop, and he always had to pretend that he was not home during the previous days. He stayed in watching movies with his little girl, sending you videos and pictures every now and then. He slept in her room during those days, a desperate attempt to calm his brain down. His head hurts from overthinking.
Putting the papers back into the envelope, Satoru took it with him to his room. He made sure to put it in his bedside drawer, just in case some other shit comes up. If this happened before, he’d probably think that Naomi is not that kind of person. But after what she did to him, all of the trust and admiration she has for her went to waste.
Changing into something more comfortable, Satoru tried to take a quick nap. He doesn’t want to look this tired when he meets his father. He’d probably convince him to get a general checkup just to make sure that nothing was wrong. Satoru knows that if it weren’t for him, his father wouldn’t ever put up with his mom. He’d probably spend his whole life searching for his ex-wife.
A few hours of nap felt like nothing because when Satoru woke up, he still felt tired. The only difference is his heartbeat doesn’t sound like it’s trying to come out of his chest anymore unlike when he was waiting for the results. A little progress is still progress; just like how he’s trying to make it all up to you.
If Satoru’s being honest, he’d fall down to his knees and beg you to take him back if you asked him to do it. The only thing stopping him is his brain telling him how happy you are right now and how he wouldn’t want to destroy that. He can’t force himself to stop thinking about you but he can force himself to move on if it’s for you.
Satoru leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, reading a text from his father saying that he was on his way. Another text was from you; it was a picture of Yui holding up a coloring book and a crayon. He was just with her earlier but he misses her already. He wondered if he could visit when he doesn’t have other things to do even if it’s not his schedule yet.
Sending a response with a small smile on his face, Satoru heard the doorbell ring, signaling his father’s arrival. He peeked through the spaces of his window curtains to ensure that it was him before opening the door. Satoru’s still unsure of what he’ll say but he hopes that his father can give him a better solution.
Satoru thought that if he ever cut ties with his mother, it’d be for you and Yui’s safety. He didn’t think that it’d be for him too. “Dad,” He gave his father a hug as he stepped in, following his son as they walked to his house. “What’s going on?” He asked as soon as Satoru closed the door. They walked to the kitchen, settling on one of the barstools.
“It’s because of mom…” He began, placing a glass pitcher atop the counter.
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“Smile~ We’ll send this to Dada.” You cooed, pointing at the camera as you tried to take a picture of your daughter. At first, she didn’t want to do it, wanting nothing but to play with her book and crayons but when she heard that her Dad wanted to know about it, she got real creative with the pose. “You don’t listen to Mama, anymore.” You pouted at her as you hit send.
She scrunched her nose, sticking out her tongue at you before picking on her colors. You still can’t forget how dead Satoru looked when he dropped Yui off. You wondered what he talked about with his mother that caused him to be like that. Even with the soft tone of his voice, you could hear roughness that probably came from the lack of sleep.
If it concerns you, then you definitely have to know. His mother probably said something bad about you, but you doubt that it’s affecting Satoru by how he was talking and looking at you. He just looked so done with all of it, but even so, there was still a tender look in his eyes when they met yours.
You sighed while looking at your phone as you waited for a text from Toji. He’s been so busy with work lately, you’re just glad that you already talked about your problems. You had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well had it stayed unsaid for a couple more days. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least, you’re both trying to make it better for each other.
“I would try,” He whispered to your ear as he hugged you from behind, “I can’t promise not to think of her–“ You turned around, looking up at him with a solemn look in your eyes, “I’m not asking you to not think of her, that’d be selfish of me.” He nodded, kissing your forehead, “Alright, what I mean is, I won’t make any comparisons.” You hummed.
“I need you to stop worrying about Satoru and I.” You put your head on his chest, “I know it’s easier said than done, but I just want you to know that I am with you.” Your fingers traced figured on his skin, “I’m keeping that in mind.” He placed his cheek on top of your head, sighing deeply as he let go of you.
“I’m taking Megumi to my Mom’s.” He pushed your hair back with his fingers, making your eyes flutter close as you felt his face get closer to yours and his breath ghosting on your lips. “I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips, “Take care, I love you.” He murmured as he gave you a long kiss, before turning to get their stuff.
One thing that you notice about Toji is that he never waits for you to say anything back. You don’t want to take the words lightly, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the same way as him. You still have a long way to go, and you don’t want to rush anything. When you mention it to him, he just says that he needs you to hear it.
“Mama, look!” Your daughter pulled you out of your head as she showed you a picture of a cat, “Dada buy Yui.” You looked closely at the picture, laughing as you realized that she was talking about the cake that they ate. “Yeah, you're right! That's what Dada bought you!.” You patted her head as she giggled.
“Yui, baby. Did meemaw come to see you?” You held her small hands, trying to keep her attention to you. “No. No meemaw.” She pulled at your hair gently, trying to color it with her crayons. “What about…what about Naomi?” You can’t help but chuckle as she pretended to think, eyes looking up as she pouted her lip.
“No Naomi!” Her answer gave you a bit of an insight. You would assume that maybe she was just busy, but hearing about how Satoru’s mother reduced her workload made you doubt it. Satoru sent you tons of pictures during his time with her but you thought that Naomi just wasn’t in the frame.
If the ‘talk’ between her and Satoru didn’t end well, you could only assume that he already told her about it. He’s probably down because he wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. With all the progress Satoru has made, you doubt that he’d be so happy to have broken a heart. She was still once a friend to him.
A heavy feeling settles in the middle of your chest, like an anchor weighing your heart down, thinking about how his mother would probably find a reason to drag you for it. But if that’s the case, you’re sure that Satoru wouldn’t let harm come to you.
With how gentle Naomi was, you couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.
——————————————
“What did she do this time?” His father looked away, clicking his tongue. If one would ask Satoru, his parents would’ve probably divorced years ago if it weren’t for him. His father knows how he is with his mother, and the thought of giving him a hard time switching between the two of them pained him.
Satoru wished that he thought about it too before he decided to go and selfishly start over with someone else. Your words the night he confessed to you echoed in his head. He came to a realization that you probably wanted to ask him to come back but held yourself back as he let you know how happy he was with Naomi.
And he was happy. But just like his father, he was never the happiest.
“I don’t really know how to open this up to you…” He bit his lip, “…But I just want this to be over, Dad.” Satoru felt so vulnerable at that moment. The only time he had a talk this serious with his Dad was when he found out about your pregnancy. It was just more of a news, unlike right now, which is a call for help.
“Naomi…Mom and Naomi talked about…” His father’s eyes coaxed him as if sensing his distress. “Naomi tried to…” Shaking his head, Satoru breathed out. “Naomi wanted to conceive. Because our relationship was falling apart.” He can see his Dad’s brows pull together to a scowl, probably getting a hint of what happened.
“She talked to Mom about it and she…” The man sat up straight, bouncing his leg like he already knew what his wife did. “She said Mom brought up the thing about how you and him got together.”It was hard to talk about this to his father, knowing how sensitive it can be for him. “Naomi told me about it. I recorded it, just in case—”
“Satoru, what did your girlfriend do?” Satoru looked down, fingers fidgeting like he was a kid again. “And your mother’s involved? What happened?” Rubbing his face, Satoru threw away all his fears. If he’s not going to fix these problems, then who will? “She got me drunk, and then she tried to sleep with me.” He blinked fast, watching his father’s face.
“I heard her talking to Mom on the phone, and I took it from her. That’s how I found out that she played a part in all of it.” It was hard for him to accept. The person he used to protect, the one he always tried to understand was the same person who betrayed and put him in this position; the position that also made his father the person he is today.
Another long silence surrounded them. His father’s hand was balled into a fist, covering his mouth as he blankly stared at the marble surface. “Where’s Naomi?” His father pulled out his phone, and Satoru could tell just what he was about to do. “I don’t know. I’m sending her things away. I’m cutting her off. I’m filing a protective order against her and mom–“
Satoru didn’t get to finish his sentence before his father spoke again, probably finally taking in the information he just provided him. “I’m divorcing your mother.” His mouth fell half-open. His voice was low, serious, and full of all the grief that he’s been feeling for years ever since he lost his first wife and son. “And I’m sending that woman to jail.” He added, raising a finger.
“There’s…I don’t want that.” He breathed out, earning a questioning look from his dad. “You don’t have to send her to jail. I…I messed up if I just told her that I still have feelings for Y/N, then she wouldn’t have resorted to that. She wouldn’t have talked to Mom and this wouldn’t have happened.” He stood up, leaning on the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Satoru thought about it too when he caught her in the act. But after some reflection, he realized his shortcomings, his mistake of not just telling her about what was really going on. Even though there was no excuse for what she did, Satoru can’t help but feel like he’s the one who caused all of this to happen. And he probably really is; a victim of his foolish choices.
“But other than that, I don’t want Y/N and Yui to be caught up in this. I don’t want to expose them to this kind of problem, they’ve been through so much because of me already. I just want to do better this time.” Thinking about dragging you into another mess made Satoru feel weak. He promised to make it up to you, and he’d do anything to prove that.
His father put his phone down on the table, taking in a deep breath just to calm himself. “But you’re not stopping me from divorcing your mother.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right to agree to that. It felt like he was encouraging the separation of his parents; celebrating his mother’s heartbreak.
But his father’s been suffering heartbreak for years. It’s only fair to set him free.
“It’s up to you. I…” Satoru shook his head, sure of the decision he was about to make. “...I don’t think I can just forgive and forget what she did. It’s not something small, and I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” His eyes itched, ready to let his tears go any minute. “I don’t even know if I still want to be associated with her.” He turned away, sighing as he blinked away his pain.
When he and Naomi went for the examination, he made her spill all the details regarding the said conversation with his mother. It took everything in him not to fly into a rage while breaking down as he heard of it. All this time, his mother saw him as a pawn to keep his father, regardless of whose life she was tearing down; Satoru’s, his father's ex-wife, and his first son.
“I wanted to take you away when you were a kid.” His father admitted, looking ahead as he reminisced of the decisions he made. “I wanted to just take you and raise you with your brother. Of course, with the hopes of getting my ex-wife back.” He leaned back, tapping on the screen of his phone. The bitter tone in his voice can’t be missed.
“That was my plan when I found out about you. But when you were about a year and a half old, she disappeared. All I knew was she was…tired; drained of all the chaos that our son and her were exposed to. What with having to co-parent with me as I was with your mother.” His eyes played the emotions he chose to hide away many years ago.
“I know you know about this. She and I got divorced. I thought it was over for us, I thought I made the right decision to turn away and try another start. And I was dating your mother. Then we had you.” His arms were crossed and Satoru could almost see the similarities between his feelings to how he used to feel about yours and his relationship.
“Then, realization came running for me; haunting me in my sleep. I was ready to get her back again, but it was too late. She was already gone.” Satoru absently poured water for his Dad, listening intently to his story. “So, I felt like the only thing to do was to marry your Mom. I reminded myself that still have you, I can’t just spiral down.” He smiled at Satoru.
“I tried to convince, tried to brainwash myself that it’d be fine. That I could learn to love her and I did. Just not the kind of love that lovers have.” If his mother could hear his Dad right now, she’d get shattered. Satoru doesn’t want to see that, but she would have to. She has to understand that she’s putting this man through.
“I loved her because she loves me; because she cares for you and me.” Leaning over to pick up his glass, he looked his son in the eyes. “But true love is unconditional, Satoru. It should not have a reason.” He took a sip, pursing his lips before continuing. “Reasons might vanish, and when it does, so will the love you feel for that person.”
In the middle of it all, Satoru could only think of you. Why does he love you? When did he realize that he loves you? How did it happen? He doesn’t have an answer for it. He cannot find a reason for it. He doesn’t remember loving you just because you put up with him, he doesn’t remember falling for you just because of the life you created together.
All that he knows is that one day, he woke up and he already knew that he was in love with you. Like he’s been doing it for years; like that’s all he’s ever known.
—-------------------------------------------------
“I’ll keep in contact with you regarding the proceedings.” Satoru’s father spoke on the phone, stepping inside his mansion and smiling at his helpers. He asked Satoru if he wanted to have a word with his mother but the thought of having to look at her after what she tried to make his ex-girlfriend do makes him feel dizzy.
“Honey, you’re home.” The woman tried to welcome him with a kiss and open arms but he quickly turned his head, rejecting her. “Come up to my office, we got something to talk about.” The mask of a loving wife was quickly covered with fear and dread.
“What about in our room? So, you can rest.” She nodded her head once, trying to coax him but he was tired of closing his eyes and numbing his heart from feeling the pain and regret of having to lose the love of his life for the comfort that this woman offered him before. “In my office. It’s not a small matter that I could sleep on.”
Leaving the woman baffled, he made his way upstairs, not waiting for her to walk beside him. There was a deafening silence in the big room, save from the footsteps of her husband and the door of his office slamming with such force that it sent a crack in her heart.
She took a deep breath and ran her palm on top of her dress, thinking of all the reasons she could give him just to prove her innocence. She didn’t want any of that to happen. She didn't think that Naomi could be so dumb as to come up with such a heinous and unpleasant plan.
That wasn’t even what she did to Satoru’s father. It was just working to keep them together. And that’s why Satoru came.
With her found determination, she held her head high. Swallowing the terror rising up her throat as she let her thoughts convince her that she did nothing wrong. She never explicitly told Naomi to do that, she’s the one who schemed that. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
She walked up the stairs, caressing the smooth, cold surface of the handrail. Satoru wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He’s her boy, her pride and joy. He’s the only ally she had when his father was openly pushing her away.
Satoru wouldn’t just ruin what she and his father had because of baseless information from his sick girlfriend. Entering the office, the man sat on his swivel chair. Forehead pressed to the heel of his hand. “What is it, dear?” She smiled sweetly at her husband, appearing unaware of what he had in mind.
Oh, how she wished she was just unaware of it all. She wished that she didn't know what the problem was. She wished it wasn’t what she thought it was and that she was just overthinking because of how– “I want a divorce.” Those four words halted the spinning of her world.
“What?” She raised her brows, checking if it was just her mind playing tricks on her and making her hallucinate. “I want a divorce. And I want it as soon as possible.” His eyes no longer held any emotions towards her; no sadness, bitterness, fading love. None. Not even pity.
“Listen, honey, I didn’t think that Naomi would do–“ She took quick steps towards him, hoping to get him to listen. “So, you knew about it?” He glared at her, “You knew about it and you didn’t tell me anything?” He shook his head, and she could only open her mouth.
“Doesn’t matter. Satoru told me everything.” He stood up from his seat, towering over her as he stared her down. “It’s nothing like that–“ She breathed out, panicking. “I’m not really interested in what you told Naomi. I’m just thankful that my son’s safe.” He stepped away from her.
“What I want to do right now, is to be free from this.” It’s over for her. All the alibis that she was composing, thinking of for this moment are useless. He doesn’t need an explanation, this was simply the final push that he needed to kick her out of his life. And probably out of Satoru’s too.
“Please, don’t do this. We’re already too old to–“ She tried to grab his hand and he only grabbed it with the other to put it away. “You’re right. We’re too old, our son’s too old for me to still pretend that we want to be in this position.” Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, listen. I wouldn’t do something that could harm–“
“I know,” His voice was calm. “Of course, to harm him wasn’t your intention, right?” She nodded eagerly, thinking that he was finally listening to her. “But you wanted to decide for him. You got in between him and Y/N, then pushed this woman on him because you thought you knew best for your son.” Tears fell down her eyes, and she lost all hope.
“Now, look at what you did to him.” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward to get her out of his way. “But this is not just about our son anymore. This is also about me, finally choosing to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Opening the door, he spoke to her one last time. “All you have to do is sign. The actions that your son will take is all up to him.”
With that, he left her with all of the nightmares of their past coming back. How he only wanted the best for his sons, how he wanted to take full custody of Satoru, how he wanted to get back together with his ex-wife, and how he only married her because she was gone. She was never the first option. She was never the original pick.
She wasn’t chosen, she just happened to be already there.
—————————————
“Hey,” You heard Satoru speak as Toji opened the door for him, nodding. This was kind of similar to how they first saw each other but you’re just glad that this time, it’s a lot calmer. Megumi ran to his father, peeking up at Satoru as he waved at him.
“Yui, your Dada’s here.” Toji left the door open to let Satoru in. Megumi was holding onto his pants, staring back at Satoru. “Yui Dada,” He picked his toy up, staring at a distance before walking closer to him. “Blue!” You laughed from the kitchen, as you packed some snacks for the little girl.
Today, you’re going to the zoo as Yui requested. The animal drawings from her coloring book got her asking you to call her Dada late at night, just to babble about it. “He’s referring to your eyes,” Toji spoke as he went back to the living room to pick up some of the toys.
“Megumi, it’s not good to point at people, what did I tell you?” He warned the toddler as he went back to your room, eyes meeting yours as you made your way to Yui's room. “Ah, yes. Yui and I have the same eyes.” Satoru smiled at the child.
“Dada!” Yui ran towards him, stomping her shoes extra hard to show him how they light up with dancing colors. “Woah! Did Mama buy you those shoes?” He opened his arms, urging the little girl to run to him and she happily did, giggling as she nodded. “It’s awesome!” You smiled at how he tried to flatter his child, encouraging her to do a little jump.
“Where are we going today?” You asked her in a playful tone as you put the lunch bags on the coffee table in front of them. “Zoo!” You watched a Satoru give her a sincere smile, patting her hair gently while complimenting her little butterfly clips. “I’m sure Megumi’s been to the zoo before.” He poked the little boy's tummy.
“Yeah. Animals. Bears and lions.” He stood behind you, peeking at Satoru as he talked. Megumi isn’t usually shy, but he doesn’t easily warm up to people. “We went there on his second birthday.” You almost jumped at Toji’s voice behind you as he picked up his child. “He’s a smart kid.” Satoru answered with a friendly smile.
“You guys should come. If you want..” It surprised you that he was initiating something like that. Although, you know that Toji wouldn’t be so comfortable with that and would most likely reject the offer, it’s still nice to see that Satoru’s trying to make an effort to get along with him.
“That’d be nice but his grandma's waiting for him,” Toji answered, chuckling awkwardly. “Dada work,” Megumi added, earning a hum from his Dad. Making sure that the bag is packed with everything Yui needs, you zipped it up. “You ready to go now?” You tapped the toddler’s cheek, feeling Satoru’s gaze at you.
“Alright, let’s get going.” Standing up with his daughter in his arms, he took the bag from your hands. He put the toddler down to hug her friend goodbye, before walking hand in hand with her outside. You laughed at how she kept squealing with each step she took, looking up to see her Dad’s reaction.
“You guys have fun, alright? I’ll just lock the doors before we go.” Toji pulled you to him, giving you a kiss. “I’ll be back later.” You put your hand around his neck, standing on your tippy toes before pecking his neck. With that, you walked out the door to join your toddler who was patiently waving at you from her car seat.
“Okay, it’s zoo time!” You wiggled your brows at her as you slammed the door shut, making her giggle. You checked your face in the mirror, trying to ignore Satoru’s soft eyes as he watched you. “How are you?” You tried to start a conversation but it was quickly interrupted as you searched around for your daughter’s binky.
“Maybe we left it inside,” Satoru spoke, opening Yui’s bag to help you find it. “Yui, where did you put it?” Remembering how she placed it on the coffee table as she showed off her outfit to her father, you started to unbuckle your seatbelts but Satoru stopped you. “It’s alright, I’ll get it.” He was already stepping out of the car before you could stop him.
Satoru jogged up your steps, knocking a few times before proceeding to open the door. Toji was just about to open it for him when he entered, “It’s Yui’s pacifier. She left it.” He put on the most polite smile he could muster, wanting nothing but to get rid of the awkwardness between them if they were both going to be in your life.
“Oh, alright. I thought it was someone else.” Toji let out a rather awkward chuckle, not knowing how else to react or what else to say. But just as Satoru uttered ‘thanks’, Toji remembered the thing he’s been thinking of for almost a week now. “Uh, Satoru,” He called, making him pause as he held the door open.
Her brows raised, waiting for him to say something. Toji doesn’t know if you’d be happy about this but it’s better than just letting his feelings, thoughts, and opinions all pile up inside of him. This is for you and Yui. Not just for him.
“I’ve been thinking about our situation with Y/N and… I was wondering if you could set aside a bit of your time for a chat?”
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dotster001 · 6 months
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Meeting Their Future Kids With You
Summary: Vil/Idia/Crewel/Crowley/Malleus/Rook x gn! Reader. A child suddenly appears. And it seems to have a connection to you? Requested by @stygianoir
A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.
CW: spreading my asexual Malleus agenda, especially now that I've been spoiled for the fact that the dragon lays an egg and all it needs is love to hatch. ASEXUAL MALLEUS CAN NOW BE CANON Y'ALL!!!! Anyways...his kid is the only one with physical descriptors, so do with that what you will 😅
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Something was wrong. There was a presence at Ramshackle that shouldn't be there. Could it be? Could someone be trying to steal you from him? No! He had only just started courting you! It wasn't fair. 
He poofed into your sitting room and froze. 
You were snuggling what looked like…a small version of him?
You looked up and your jaw dropped.
"Wait, I thought this was you!" You looked back down at the kid who giggled and made grabby hands at Malleus.
"Daddy!"
Ah! Yes, he understood now. Draconia genes were strong. This child clearly was barely old enough to even hold a human form, it was not out of the realm of possibility that it had accidentally used a time travel spell. Perhaps that was even the child's unique magic.
He walked over to the child in your arms, scooped it up, and gave it a soft kiss between the two tiny horns emerging from their head.
"It's wonderful to see you, but it's time to go home, little one."
The child nodded sagely and vanished in a puff of green smoke. You looked at him in complete confusion, but he simply laughed, repeating his kiss, but this time to your forehead.
He knew you were his soulmate.
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He knew with a single glance. The familiarity the twin girls before him held in their gazes, the way they carried themselves, the hats on their heads. Everything screamed his influence.
And though that didn't make any sense, Rook knew his eye and his instincts were never wrong.
But there was something about the girls that was distinctly…..
"Rook! Hi- aw shit, please tell me you didn't kidnap some kids!"
So distinctly you.
The two girls shared what, to anyone but Rook, would seem like an unsettling smile as you approached the silent scene.
"Non non, they are just passing through, oui, petites fleur's?"
"Oui," they said simultaneously, grinning at you, their eyes taking in your every facial twitch.
"Uh, okay? Relatives of yours?"
"One could say that."
All three of them laughed, leaving you confused and a little frightened.
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It was a normal day like any other. Searching for Epel who had once again fled his lessons.
And he had found him in the worst possible place. A mud pile with an already very muddy teenage girl.
Epel splashed the girl with a childish giggle, and she laughed hysterically.
"Papa was right, you were crazy!" She giggled making a mud ball and throwing it at him.
He dodged and it hit Vil.
"Ah shit," she whispered under her breath. But after a second of reflection, she grinned. "Wait, why am I scared? You're not the boss of me."
Vil glared, and she suddenly looked apologetic again.
Both Epel and the girl stared at the ground, completely avoiding eye contact.
"What school are you from?" Vil snapped at the girl.
She snickered but said nothing.
"Who do I report you to?"
She laughed louder. "Nah, I don't have to tell you shit."
"Language," he snapped, and tears filled her eyes.
"It was all uncle Epel's fault. I told him I didn't want to play in the mud, but he made me do it!"
"You absolute rat!" Epel shouted, picking up some mud and preparing to throw it.
Vil cast a quick spell, freezing both of you in place. He stormed over and snatched each of your wrists, preparing to storm off with the two trouble makers in tow, when he saw the shimmering gold bracelet on your wrist. Engraved on it was L/N-Schoenheit.
He stared for a moment, then groaned.
"Epel, remind me to never let you around my future child."
"He's my godfather," the girl grinned impishly, and Vil felt a part of himself die.
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"Excuse me, I'm looking for my dad. You look like you could be related to him."
Idia knew he shouldn't have left his room today. All he wanted was a snack, and to maybe see you if you happened to not be in a class right now, and now this extroverted teenager was asking about his dad.
What the absolute fuck?
He quickly pulled out his ipad, typing something about how anyone related to him wasn't worth finding, when the twerp yanked the iPad out of his hands.
"Nevermind, I figured it out," the kid snorted. "Hi dad!"
Idia started stuttering. Not only was this twerp an extroverted teen who stole his iPad, he was also insane.
"Nah, nah, not today, not today…" Idia started muttering under his breath.
The kid rolled his eyes.  
"Forgot about this part. Guess they really did change you for the better," he started typing something on his watch, and a hologram popped up, showing the kid, you, and Idia…? Your and Idia's faces were a bit more lined than they were right now but….it was definitely you.
He stared at the hologram, his hair turning a bright red. 
"Oh! Hey Idia!" Your voice called from behind him.
He turned and waved to you shyly, then turned back to the teen. But he was gone.
And the damn boy stole his iPad.
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If his hair wasn't already dyed, those two freshmen would have given him gray hair by now.
Once again, they'd made a potion explode in his classroom. And once again, the fallout would be a pain to clean up.
Where you had once sat was a small child. A small child who was looking at him expectantly.
"Well?" She asked.
At first he had assumed this small child was your child form. But no. She looked nothing like you. Though, she did have a similar glint in her eye.
"Who are you?" He asked softly, not wishing to scare the child with the rage that was building up inside him. He'd told you again and again that your friends were trouble, and now look where it got you.
Wait. Where exactly were you?
Before the girl could speak, a red smoke filled the room, and a him with a few more wrinkles appeared, dragging you by the wrist. Your face was covered in a vicious pout.
"I already told them," future Crewel said, eying the freshmen with a vicious glare. "No need to repeat it."
He opened his arms in front of the little girl, a warm smile taking over his features, as the girl climbed into his arms, snuggling into him. He pointed at you and the freshman one more time, said, "Behave." And vanished into red smoke.
Present day Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose, and pointed at you.
"He already said it," you snapped,punching Ace in the shoulder for good measure.
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"Morning dad."
"Morning," Crowley muttered tiredly as he sipped his coffee.
Then he choked on it. There should be no one in his office right now. And there should be no one calling him dad.
He looked over and saw a kid who was somewhere between the age of 10 and 13 sorting through his stack of paperwork.
"Pardon me, but do you mind explaining what you're doing?"
The kid looked up and raised a brow in confusion.
"Um, morning paperwork?" He laughed nervously. "Wait did you forget that….uh, nevermind, I'll just go then."
The kid hastily made the papers into a pile, grabbed a backpack, and started to hustle out of the office. Only to be stopped when he bumped into you as you were storming into the office.
"Crowley! You promised you'd fix my goddamn roof!"
"Dad said I wasn't grounded anymore!"
Both of you shouted over the top of each other, and then stared in confusion.
The kid sprinted out of the office, knocking you over in the process.
Dire, meanwhile, released a delighted giggle, his face feeling warm as he grinned at you with a lovesick grin. Only to be annoyed as you brought up your roof again.
"If you excuse me, I have other things to attend to. I assure you that child will only cause trouble."
He ran out of his own office, no intention of actually finding his future son, only intending to hide from you.
Too bad you could always see through him, and were right on his tail.
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daddy all along
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pairing: leon x reader
cw: smut, daddy kink, age-gap, hurt/comfort, alcoholism, daddy issues, morally dubious behavior, virgin reader, reader is 21 during all sexual/suggestive scenes but there is a non-sexual scene at the beginning where reader is a child.
word count: 7k
summary: leon is reader's dad's best friend. he has known you since you were very little and has acted as a secondary father figure at different times in your life because your father is an alcoholic/workaholic. but leon's not your dad, he's actually there for you (and he's very sexy). your dad misses your 21st birthday and leaves you with leon, and you convince him to take your virginity.
a/n: no, you should not do this in real life. this is purely for fiction. yes, it is weird to write reader as a child and then as an adult. if you don't want to see this type of content, then don't read it.
part 2
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You remember the first time you called Leon 'Daddy.' It was the first time you slept with him, on your 21st birthday. That's your version of the truth but not the truth. Leon remembers the first time you called him 'Daddy.' You were three years old. 
"Leon," a tiny voice whispered, and with it came even tinier footsteps down the stairs.
Leon paused the TV and turned towards you.
"What is it, princess?" he said, matching your tone.
"I can't sleep," you pouted.
He motioned for you to come closer, and you did. 
"Why is that?" he asked, lifting you into his lap.
Sitting on his knee, you said, "I'm scared of monsters". 
"But there aren't monsters, sweet pea."
"But what if there are, and we can't see them?" 
He looked into your big eyes and saw the genuine worry behind them. He pulled you closer, towards one hip, so that he could safely stand with you in his arms. 
"How about we check one more time, and I'll show you that there are no monsters?"
You nodded, head pressed to his chest, relaxing into the comfort of his arms. 
He put you down in your bed and looked through every corner of your room - the back of your closet, under the bed, every drawer in your dresser - to prove there were no monsters. 
"And even if a monster came in here, I'll be right downstairs, so they'll have to go through me before they can come get you."
"What if the monster gets you?"
"The monsters never win against me."
And that was true. You were too young to understand what he meant, though. 
"Can you sleep in here?"
"I can't fit in your bed, princess."
"When I get scared, sometimes Dad sleeps on the floor."
Leon had been substituting for Dad more and more frequently. It made him upset, not at you, but for you. He couldn't believe that, especially after your mother had abandoned you both, your father would choose work, women, and alcohol over you. Someone had to choose you, and that someone was going to be Leon. He always wanted to save people and to be a good man. Heck, he even imagined himself as a father before Raccoon City flipped his life upside down. Since then, he'd resigned to the idea that he'd never get the stereotypical wife and two kids living in a house with a white picket fence. The closest Leon would get to being a family man was when he slept in your father's guest room. He'd made peace with that. 
So, that night, he slept poorly on your bedroom floor, even after you bargained with you to give him a pillow. You gave him one of your stuffed animals, too, thinking it might help him in the way that it helped you. He nearly cried at how thoughtful you were as a little kid.
"Thank you, sweet pea," he said, accepting your thoughtful gift. 
You smiled, rubbed your sleepy eyes, and said, "Goodnight, Daddy."
Leon heard what you called him, but he never acknowledged it to you. He had a good poker face. 
"Goodnight," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You slept, thank god, and as he suspected, no monsters appeared. 
This went on periodically throughout your childhood, your father being gone, and Leon stepping in. At some point, you got old enough that Leon didn't have to sleep on your bedroom floor as you no longer believed in monsters. Ironic, he thought, considering what he'd seen, but he'd never share the horrors of his job with you, even if the government would let him. No one deserved to bear that kind of hurt, not even he did. 
Leon was around less once you were old enough to take care of yourself. According to your father, he'd been going through some things - those things remained unspecified, but you put together the pieces once you saw him. 
Alcohol. That's what your father meant. It took your father away from you, and you feared Leon would be next. Leon drank a little too much, too often, and when he did, you distanced yourself from him. He never told you that he'd noticed the way you shied away from him, how you always retreated to the safe space of your bedroom when he was over. On the surface, you handled it all quite well. You didn't yell at Leon and tell him to get sober, you didn't cry yourself to sleep, you bypassed the first four stages of grief when you felt like you were losing him. Too used to being disappointed, you preemptively resigned yourself to the fact that he would end up like your father: gone, in one way or another. 
Leon got better, though, unlike your father. Neither of you ever talked about it, but your rift mended itself. Leon watched your face light up in hope and gratitude when he refused the drink your father offered him for the first time in a long time. Your hello and goodbye hugs returned, and you made noticeable efforts to linger in his presence; most notably, you went back to derailing the conversation whenever it came to bedtime, something you'd done since you were a kid. 
You became a debate champion and a master manipulator when it came to convincing Leon to let you stay up later. Every argument was futile, and he knew it; he continued to play your games for fun, but you had the key to his heart whether you knew it or not, and he would always give in to you. 
Leon didn't need to babysit you anymore as you got older, and his work life got increasingly busy. Plus, he had to spend time on therapy and self-care now that he'd decided to get sober. Thus, he saw you less often. It was okay, though; you had secretly and very loosely planned to visit him in D.C. once you graduated college, got a big girl job, and were no longer governed by your father's rule. 
Adulthood couldn't come sooner.
For your 21st birthday, you were hoping you could go out with a friend - or go to a party, though you wouldn't tell your dad the second part. However, you had been grounded for partying the weekend before - indefinitely, so your 21st would be spent at home with your dad. It could be a blessing in disguise, you thought initially, since your dad was rarely around. Now, you'd finally get to spend some quality time together. But alas, you were so very wrong about that. At the very last minute, your father was called out on an urgent work mission. 
When you were a child, this was his standard excuse for anything from a date to a night out on the town with friends. Sometimes, though, he really was needed at work. You'd allow yourself to believe it this time as a birthday gift. You'd spend the night crying otherwise. 
The nail in the coffin was that your dad got you a 'babysitter.' A babysitter on your 21st birthday?! It seemed like there should be a way to legally refuse that kind of thing. You expected the babysitter to be the mean old woman who lived next door; maybe if you were lucky, her daughter, who was slightly less of a bitch, would be in town, and your dad could pay her to take care of you instead. 
You were in your room, beginning your pity party, when the doorbell rang. 
"Honey, your babysitter is here. How about you come down and say hi," your dad called. 
"Tell my babysitter to fuck off," you fired back.
"How about you come tell him yourself?"
Him? You thought. A male babysitter? 
You walked downstairs to give this man a piece of your mind, making sure your resting bitch face was securely in place, but when you made it halfway down the stairs, you met the man's eyes and realized, "Leon?!" 
You ran into his arms, which were already outstretched for you. 
"Hey, Princess," he chuckled into your hair, "did you have something you wanted to say to me?"
"I missed you?"
"No, I thought you were coming down to tell me to 'fuck off.'"
"I didn't know it was you. I would never tell you that."
Your dad was already halfway out the door when he said, "Happy Birthday," with a wink, like they'd planned this night all along. There was no way in your mind that your father was a wingman and not a tyrannical dictator, at least not until that night. 
You were a simple woman and could be satisfied with pizza, a movie, and your favorite middle-aged man sitting next to you on the couch. 
Leon called the pizza place and ordered the usual for the both of you: half of your favorite toppings and half of his. The estimated delivery time was 30 minutes, according to the person on the phone. 
"What's your bet?" Leon asked, hanging up. 
"45 minutes," you said. 
"Wow, you're pessimistic today," he said. 
"No, I'm realistic, and I'm accounting for traffic," you said, "What's your guess?"
"One dollar," he said. 
You played by The Price is Right rules - whoever is the closest without going over wins. The prize? The loser has to answer the door when the doorbell rings. It was a low-stakes game.
40 minutes later, Leon was crowned the winner, but you still made him get the door because it was your birthday. 
There was another tradition your family shared surrounding pizza; it was an ancient memory but so well-preserved. When you were much younger, having lost the little guessing game, your father answered the door, and Leon remarked off-handedly that the woman was beautiful - she was out of earshot, of course. Your dad jokingly offered to ask for her number on his behalf. 
So, when Leon returned with a mischievous smile, you should've known what he was going to say.  
"Here, princess," he said, handing you the receipt, "got his number for you. It's right on the back."
"You did not!" you took the receipt in your hands and searched for a phone number on the back, falling for Leon's tricks. 
"I did not, you're right." Leon stuck his tongue out at you, as you used to do to him when you were a little girl. 
You returned the gesture, and he served you up a slice of pizza, serving himself second like a gentleman would. 
Unlike old times, you were allowed to eat in the living room since you'd reached an age where you could be trusted not to ruin the furniture.
On his way to the couch, he made a detour to ruffle your hair. "Movie?" he asked, holding the remote.
"Sure." You sat down beside him, a respectful distance away.
Leon wanted to watch something new, but you wanted to watch Jerry Maguire for the umpteenth time. So, naturally, you compromised by watching Jerry Maguire.  
At some point during the movie, you turned to him and said, "I just realized I don't know anything about you." 
That was the truth. The only things that you'd gathered from the many years you'd spent around Leon was that he wore a leather jacket, he rode a motorcycle, which you were not allowed to touch, and whatever cologne he wore smelled delightful. You couldn't pinpoint the particular scent, couldn't tell cedar from pine. If you had to describe it, you'd say it smelled familiar and good. You'd never seen him with a woman, and you weren't allowed to know anything about his job, similar to your father's. 
"What do you wanna know?" Leon asked.
You hadn't really thought that far. You didn't expect him to be so receptive to your questioning. 
"Have you ever been in love?" you blurted out.
He tilted his head to the side, confused about why you'd ask about his love life. 
"What?" he asked with a mouthful of pizza.
"I asked -"
"- I heard what you said; I was just wondering why you asked."
"I don't know, really."
"Okay, uh, yeah, I've been in love before," he said, looking towards the ceiling like he was trying to find a memory, "It was a long time ago, though."
"Okay."
"Is that sufficient?"
"I doubt I'll get anything else out of you, so it'll have to do, I guess."
"Smart girl. You say you don't know much about me, but you know me better than you think."
Leon went on to ask you questions about school, your friends, and the like, trying to shift the spotlight from his life onto yours. Getting information from him was like pulling teeth. It made you wonder if he'd learned to keep his secrets due to his line of work or if he was always a private guy. 
"Leon?"
"Yes, princess?"
"Can I ask you another question?"
"Based on your last question, I should probably say no, but because it's your birthday, I'll let you continue your interrogation."
"It's not an interrogation. You're not in handcuffs or anything."
"Uh-huh," he said with an eye-roll, "Ask away before I change my mind."
"When did you lose your virginity?" you blurted out.
He choked on his water, spitting it onto his shirt. 
"Wow, okay, that's - you're really going there, aren't you?"
"Just answer the question."
"I can't plead the fifth?"
"It's a normal question; you're making it weird." You couldn't meet his eyes and opted to look down at your feet. 
Maybe he pitied you because he answered after a deep breath. "I was, uh, 16."
"Was it any good?"
He sighed. "It was okay… for me, at least. I don't know how much she enjoyed it. Didn't really know what I was doing back then."
You hummed in response, nodding and briefly looking up to see his face. 
"How 'bout you?" he asked in an unexpected turn of events.
"What?" 
"Didn't think you could get away without answering the question, too, did you?"
"Oh," you started, "I'm, uh, I haven't yet."
"Nothing to be ashamed of; it's normal at your age. Not that I'd know, of course."
He was always the one to try to lighten the mood, and it pretty much always worked. You laughed and playfully smacked him before saying, "I'm gonna go get in my pj's, I think." 
"Good idea. Gimme your plate, and I'll clean up."
You handed him your plate on the way out of the room, quickly making your way upstairs. You had a plan. 
Every man had a sex drive; every man had something that made them tick, but what was that special thing for Leon? How could you entice him if you'd never seen him with a woman? You had no idea what he liked, so all you could do was guess. 
You had a cute pink nightgown ready for this occasion. It was all silky with lace trim and all too revealing of your decolletage, peeking through the top, as well as the tiniest pair of panties you owned. A lace thong that matched the trim of the nightgown perfectly.
You waltzed downstairs to find Leon in the kitchen doing the dishes by hand. You decided that you should get a glass of water to put on a little show for Leon. You reached up to the top shelf to grab a glass, which made your nightgown ride up, showing your entire ass, subsequently bending down to reach the filtered water in the fridge, giving Leon a similar view. You couldn't tell if he was looking, but you lingered, teasing him, begging him to take a look. When you turned around, you caught him turning his head in the opposite direction. He knew he'd been caught, too. 
You took your glass of water to the couch and sat down, knowing that unless he wanted to walk out the back door, Leon would have to face you in the living room. You could see him trying to fix his pants in a way that would hide his hard-on, but you could still see the bulge when he came into the living room and sat down next to you. He didn't dare look below your neck. You scooted closer to him, and he pretended to look at the clock before saying, "You know what? I'm going to change into something more comfortable as well," and promptly headed upstairs. 
When he came back, he was wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, which did a piss-poor job of hiding his erection. You sat there all pretty, smiling at him, watching him shift his weight from foot to foot. 
"It's pretty late. I think it's getting close to bedtime," he said, acting like you were still a child.
"Okay," you said, pouting, pretending to be reluctant to walk towards him. 
You sauntered over, and he made a deliberate effort not to look at you. 
"Will you tuck me in?" you asked, using your cute little pouty face on him - the one that always worked. 
"Don't you think you're a little old for that, princess?"
Princess? He must be messing with you. He must know he's making you want him even more, right?
"Please, Leon. It's my birthday."
"Fine. Since it's your birthday, I guess I have to tuck you in, don't I?"
He gestured for you to walk upstairs first. Maybe he did want to get a peek at your ass. 
You sat on the edge of the bed, hands in your lap, back straight, with a smile. A good girl.
Leon's figure loomed in the doorway. "I'm gonna level with you here," he started, "I don't know what you're trying to do, but you and I both know this is an act."
"What's an act?" you continued to feign innocence. 
"The naive little girl thing. The tiny nightgown, the pouty face, bending over in the kitchen."
"It's your problem if you're turned on by it."
"Who said anything about being turned on by it?"
You looked him in the eyes, then down at his sweatpants, which did nothing to hide his arousal, and then back at his eyes. 
He was red in the face. "Fine. You win. Happy?"
"What do I win?"
"Getting to see me embarrassed. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"No."
"Then what is it that you want?" He crossed his arms, waiting for you to say it. 
"You."
He shook his head. "Mm-mm. Nope."
"Why not? You want me too."
"It's not right. That's why."
But he didn't deny it. 
"I'm 21. I'm an adult."
"But I'm still too old for you. And I've known you since you were a baby."
"And that's exactly why we should feel comfortable around each other."
"I have no problem being comfortable with you in a non-sexual context."
"But it's my birthday."
"You already played that card, princess."
"Please?"
"Please, what?"
"Just one kiss?"
He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, contemplating. 
"I won't tell anyone," you promised preemptively. 
"One." He walked towards you. "But that's it." 
"Deal, but it better be a real kiss. Not like a friendly peck on the lips."
You'd probably given him one of those when you were a toddler. This was different.
"I should've known you'd negotiate further." He pretended to be exasperated, but his smile betrayed him. He had a soft spot for you. "What are the terms?"
"It has to last at least 30 seconds."
"10."
"20 is the lowest I'll go."
"20 for the birthday girl."
He closed his eyes and leaned in. His lips were soft, and his mouth tasted minty. You weren't counting the seconds and hoping he wasn't, either. You knew you were pushing it when you brought your tongue into the equation, but he'd already given in to you. He allowed the tip of his tongue to meet yours.  
He pulled away first. Quickly, so you couldn't catch him and pull him back in. 
"You happy now?" he asked, much more amused than annoyed.
You stared at him, seeing stars already. 
"I think that was only 10 seconds." The edges of lips curved upwards slowly. 
"Oh really? I think it was at least a minute."
"I was counting."
"No, you were not."
Despite protesting, he was still sitting in your bed, laughing with you. 
"But Leon-"
"But what, princess?" He cocked his head to the side, taunting you. 
You were out of bargaining chips. You'd played every card that wasn't flat-out begging him. 
"Did you at least think it was good?" you asked, needing his approval more than anything.
"It was great." He sounded sincere, and you hoped that he meant it more than anything. 
"Really? You promise you'd never lie to me?" you held out your pinky and he took it in his. 
"Promise," he said.
When he was about to stand up, you said, "But if it was good, then why don't you want more?"
He flopped back on your bed and sighed in exasperation. "Because it's not appropriate."
"But that doesn't mean you don't want it."
"No, but it doesn't matter. I'm the adult in the situation, and I'm telling you it's a bad idea."
"I'm the adult, too, and I think it's a great idea."
"Well, I have more experience than you, and I know it's a bad idea."
"If you have more experience, then you can help me."
"How many more arguments do you have? Just hit me with all of them so I can give you a collective 'no,' and then we can both go to bed."
You could see his frustrations dueling in his mind. He was tired of your arguing, but the more frustrated he got at you, still sitting next to him in a tiny pink nightgown, the more he wanted you. His gentle, sweet sexual fantasies about you were being replaced by rougher ones. He knew that if he told you to turn around and get on all fours, you'd do it. He could spank you as punishment for your naughty behavior, and you'd like it. 
"I was going to resort to begging next."
"And you think that would break me?"
"It always does."
"Because I have a weak spot for you," he paused, "and because you usually aren't asking me for sex."
"Who said I was asking for sex?"
He glared at you, knowing that was exactly what you wanted.
"You said that you lost your virginity at my age," you said, hoping your reasoning would make sense to him.
"And?" He understood, but that didn't mean he agreed. 
"I don't want to be a virgin anymore. I wanna be cool like you, Leon."
You'd told him that before, wearing his leather jacket that was too big for you, waddling around the house as a kindergartner. 
"Well, then find a nice guy - or girl - your age and do that on your own time."
"But I want you."
He closed his eyes, resigning himself to the fact that he might have to give into you while he still wanted you gently. Otherwise, with your track record, you'd get him to concede to your wishes, but only after losing self-control, which was the only thing holding him back from tying you to the headboard. 
"You don't know this yet because you haven't had this experience yet, but it's hard not to get attached to the first person you're with."
"And? We're already close."
"Not like that, though. We're not dating, not married, and we never will be. I'm trying to protect you."
"I'm not proposing marriage."
"Thank god."
"You've protected me from everything my whole life. Now I'm an adult, and I want to choose. Remember when I was little, you used to say, 'I'll tell you when you're older' or 'When you're an adult, you can make your own choices'? I'm not your responsibility anymore, Leon."
"You never were." He took your hand because he still loved you despite it all. "I care about you, so I can't let you get hurt, but I also can't be with you. And things aren't going to be the same if we do this."
"I promise I'll be okay. I can handle it."
He sat silently for a moment before finally saying, "You're not going to tell your dad, right?"
"No, god no, never."
"You're not going to brag to your friends?"
"Are you saying I'd want to brag? That you're worthy of such high praise?"
"I'd like to think I'm decent at it."
"Is this you agreeing?" Your eyes lit up the way they did whenever you got your way. 
"I'm exhausted, you're in a tiny nightgown, and you're begging. I'm powerless against you."
"And I thought that Leon Kennedy could have me pinned down in under a second."
"Is that what you'd like?"
"Maybe." At this point, you were hovering over him, one leg outside each of his. You sat down, straddling him, and he struggled to keep a straight face. 
"Have you done anything before?" He asked. 
You made a lewd gesture, indicating that you'd performed oral sex on a guy before.
"You're gonna have to be more mature than that if we're gonna do this." 
"Fine. I sucked a guy's dick once." You didn't want to be so vulgar, but how else were you supposed to say it? 
"Good for you." Leon pretended to be unimpressed, but in truth, he was thinking about the view that guy must've gotten. How perfect you'd look on your knees. 
"No, good for him."
"He didn't reciprocate?"
Leon's hands were gripping your hips. You couldn't tell if he wanted you to move or if he was trying to keep you still. 
"That's too bad. You're a good girl. You deserve it."
"A good girl?" Your voice faltered, and your eyes said it all. 
"Yes, a very good girl." He leaned down and caught your mouth in a quick kiss. 
Even looming over you, he looked hesitant to touch you, like you were too delicate and fragile.
"You wanna take this off?" he asked, toying with the hem of your nightgown.
"Only if you agree to take your shirt off."
"Deal."
He sat up and took his shirt off. You could see how his arms flexed when he did it and his now-exposed chest and abs.
"How do you look so good at your age?" You meant to keep that thought to yourself, but your mouth had a mind of its own. As you spoke, you ran your hands down his chest, noting that his body felt as lovely as it looked. 
"I'm not sure if I should be offended that you called me old or flattered that you think I look good."
"You look hot."
"You gonna hold up your end of the deal?"
You sat up and removed your nightgown, revealing a tiny white thong with a little bow. 
"Cute," he mused, playing with the bow. 
"I didn't know what you liked, so I had to guess."
"You did a great job."
His large hands cupped one of your now-exposed breasts in each hand, thumbs running over your nipples, making you shiver. 
He hummed in satisfaction at your reaction. Seeing your face flush, he said, "Don't be embarrassed, princess."
You didn't have time to answer before his lips were on yours again, making their way down your neck, stopping to whisper into your ear.
"Promise you'll tell me if I do anything you don't like?"
"Promise."
With open-mouthed kisses, he made his way down to your chest, letting his tongue circle each nipple, looking for weaknesses. It wasn't hard to find them. You were soaking through the thin lace of your panties. 
Feeling Leon's lips on your tits, you let out a small moan and tried to cover any others up with a hand over your mouth. Leon removed your hand and said, "Mm-mm. If I do this for you, you can't cover your mouth. I wanna hear your pretty noises."
He made his way to the hem of your panties. The lace barely covered anything. You felt him lap at your folds through the fabric, making you gasp. 
"Can I take them off?"
"Uh-huh."
 He looked up into your eyes, which had no thoughts behind them other than how much you needed this. He removed your panties, teasing you with kisses on your hip bones and thighs, wanting to see if you'd beg for a feeling you'd never felt. 
He made eye contact while he flicked his tongue over your clit, anticipating your strong reaction. You threw your head back and gripped the sheets.
"Already, princess? I've barely even done anything to you," He mumbled into your skin. 
There were infinite combinations of words in the English language that could accurately describe your embarrassment, but they were all out of reach, as pleasure had taken your mind hostage.
When Leon had imagined this moment - and yeah, he'd imagined it, filled with such intense lust and followed by an even larger wave of guilt - he'd imagined his fingers inside you by this point. But, now, he was just letting his tongue glide along your folds, trying to tease you, trying to taste you, trying to burn a memory onto his mental hard drive of this moment. He pressed a kiss to your clit and watched as your eyes rolled back and you arched your body off the bed. He'd never seen a woman so sensitive, though. He'd never done anything with a virgin before. Most of the women he'd hooked up with in the past decade were in their 30s. 
"Leon," You whined.
"I know, baby girl. Let go for me," he said softly, looking into your eyes with a loving gaze. 
He sucked lightly on your clit, leading you through your orgasm. The intense sensation coursed through your entire body, making your thighs tremble, and your moans turn into sobs.
"Oh my god. Daddy!" In the heat of the moment, it just came out. 
Leon didn't pull away, despite his surprise - truthfully, he couldn't have because your thighs kept him in a headlock. You could've suffocated him, maybe even broken his neck like that, but he was strong enough that he could push your legs apart if he really needed to breathe. Not that he cared very much. Leon had faced death enough times to know that this would've been one of the best ways to go. He'd take his chances if it meant he got an extra minute between your thighs.
"Daddy, huh? Thought you were an innocent little girl. Shoulda known better."
"Sorry. It was just so good, and I wasn't thinking."
"I know, princess. I'm glad I could make you feel good."
He kissed each cheek and your forehead. The way he'd always done when he put you to bed.
"You wanna go to bed now?" he asked. You couldn't tell if he wanted a 'yes' or a 'no'. The smile on his face was the same as it always was - happy and warm and honest. It was the same look he'd given you when he'd said goodnight to you for decades. He wanted you to sleep because he cared about you but didn't mind having you stay up because he loved you. 
"No, I don't wanna go to bed," you said, reaching down to palm him through his sweatpants.
He gave you a look of arousal poorly concealed by hesitation to take things any further.
"I don't wanna hurt you," he said. 
You pouted, and he was defenseless.
"Always get what you want," he said under his breath.
You hooked your thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants, and he took them off.
When you tried to go for his underwear, he said, "Yeah, yeah. Gimme a second."
He got out of bed, and you whined. 
"I'll be right there." He feigned annoyance, but he obviously still found you cute. 
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for my wallet. It's probably in the other room."
He went to your guest room next door, and you were initially confused, worried he'd left you. Until he came back with a condom held between two fingers. 
"Did you know this was going to happen?"
"No, but I'm always prepared."
It was the truth. No way in Hell did he ever think this would happen when he came to your house.
"Would you ever do it without one?"
"If you're proposing that, the answer is absolutely not."
Secretly, you both wished for him to be inside you without the rubber barrier. You watched him pull out his dick and slip on the condom unceremoniously as if this wasn't the most important moment of your life thus far. 
He caught you ogling. "What? Impressed or disappointed?"
He knew the answer. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that kind of reaction. 
"Do you think it's gonna fit?" you asked.
"No need to flatter me, sweetheart. You've already got me in bed."
"I'm being serious."
"I'll go slow," he assured you, voice quiet and sweet.
He brushed his thumb across your cheek. He kissed you with such tenderness you felt like you might melt. 
You got a rush of adrenaline watching him line himself up at your entrance. Both from excitement and nerves. You truly were worried about whether it would fit inside you. 
The first thrust was a bit painful - nothing excruciating, just a bit of discomfort - but Leon, worried about you, immediately pulled back and asked, "What's wrong, baby girl? Did I hurt you?"
You nodded meekly and made the "little bit" sign with your pointer and thumb. 
"Okay. Lemme try something else then."
At this point, he had pulled entirely out of you, and he started to play with your clit lazily while gazing at your face. All discomfort faded from your expression and was replaced by pleasure. He had you nearly writhing again over such minimal contact. 
In his deep, silky voice, he said, "Open," pushing two fingers into your mouth, making sure he didn't go too far and make you gag. 
You knew he wanted you to wet them for him, but you decided to give him a little show, too. You looked into his eyes while sucking his fingers, swirling your tongue around them. You could tell he was trying to keep his composure, but you could feel his dick twitch against your leg. 
Though he was enjoying the sight, he removed his fingers from your mouth and pushed them, one, then both, into you and gently stroked your inner walls. His other hand was tending to your clit all the while, and you began to feel the pressure in your abdomen rise again. It must've shown on your face because he started pumping his fingers in and out of you with greater force until you were teetering on the edge of a second orgasm. Your walls clenched around his fingers, and he promptly took them away.
"Why did you do that?" You whined with tears, acting like it was the greatest betrayal. 
"It's okay, princess. I'm gonna let you come. I wanna be inside you when you do, though."
You felt the head prodding at your entrance; the only thing you felt was a desire for more. The feeling of being stretched out took a moment to adjust to, but it felt good to be filled. He gently gave himself to you inch by inch. 
"You're doing so good for me, princess."
"Daddy?" you said in a voice neither of you had ever heard before.
"Yes, baby?" Leon's breath hitched. It didn't matter how wrong it was; it was too good. 
I love you. Those were the words you wanted to say, and 'I love you, Leon' was something you'd said a thousand times, but it was never 'Daddy, I love you' - and it was never during sex, obviously. 
"Thank you," you said - for what? You weren't sure, but Leon seemed to get the gist. 
He didn't say anything, just smiled and then pressed a kiss to your cheek, still thrusting in and out of you, speeding up when he knew you could take it. 
The face Leon made when he bottomed out inside you was a heavenly sight. It made you tighten around him, eliciting a low groan from him. He took one hand from beside your head and slid it down between your thighs, touching you where you needed it most. The feeling of him rubbing your clit as he fucked you made your pussy spasm around him. 
"Gonna be a good girl and come for Daddy?" he asked. 
"Oh my god, Daddy!" You nearly screamed when you came. 
Leon did his best to hide his feelings about that word, maintaining the rhythm of his thrusts, thumb not leaving your clit. The physical sensation of you clenching around him nearly sent him over the edge with you, but the conflicting feelings that 'Daddy' gave him held him back. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise.
If you'd told him before that moment that you wanted to call him 'Daddy,' he would've thought it was odd, but watching your eyes roll back and feeling your nails dig into his back as you said it made it sexy. 
Once your orgasm subsided, he allowed himself to let go. Your eyes fluttered back open just in time to watch his face as he came. 
"Fuck," he groaned, drawn out, followed by heavy breaths. 
You were still a bit dazed when he got up, threw the condom in the trash, and immediately collapsed beside you. You were greeted with a kiss on the forehead once you returned to Earth. 
Leon stopped himself from saying, "I love you," even though you'd both said it to each other a thousand times over the years. The fact remained that both of you loved each other, but the specificities of that love had now become blurry. 
At the risk of embarrassing you, he asked, "So, the whole 'Daddy' thing?"
"I'm sorry. Did it weird you out?"
"I wouldn't put it like that."
"You can just say it did."
"No, it's just – it feels wrong considering the circumstances."
"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't have let myself get that carried away."
"There's no reason to be embarrassed about it. It wasn't a turn-off. I still came, so the proof is… well, it's in your trash can."
You smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your face was still bright red. 
"You really shouldn't feel bad about it. It's no big deal."
"But it is. You said it - because…" 
You couldn't say, "You're like a second father to me," or anything else that came to mind. The whole thing simultaneously made more and less sense. Of course, he was 'Daddy' in your mind, but in more ways than one. 
"I know," he said simply. You didn't need to finish your sentence for him to understand. 
"Can you hold me?" You asked, getting teary-eyed for reasons more complicated than you could verbalize. Overstimulation, overwhelming pleasure, a closeness beyond what you'd ever felt with someone before, the sense that things had changed for good, concern that this had caused irreparable damage to whatever bond you'd had, but most of all, how angry you were at your real dad. 
"Of course, baby girl, c'mere," Leon said with arms wide open. He sat up in bed, knowing what you wanted. You sat in his lap and clung to him while he held you tightly. 
"I can't believe he couldn't even be here for my birthday," you sobbed, still naked in Leon's lap. 
"I know, and I'm sorry, princess. I'm upset about it, too."
He pressed little kisses into your hair.
You wondered if maybe Leon was right: you had gotten attached to him, but this part was always going to happen. In every reality, you would've ended up crying in his arms. 
All the emotions you tried to keep inside came out of your tear ducts at once, and you felt like a little girl. 
You got up eventually to pee because Leon forced you to. He put his pants back on and was about to do the same with his shirt when you asked, "Can I have it?"
"Yeah."
He threw it to you, not even thinking the same thing you were. He'd given girlfriends and hookups t-shirts to wear to bed, but it had nothing to do with sex at this moment; you needed the comfort you always would have. It was like a hug from him. The way you'd sleep in your dad's room when he wasn't home, just to feel like he was there.
You got into your bed, still wearing Leon's shirt, and he got up to leave, as he was supposed to, as you knew he would. Sleeping with you was never part of the agreement, but your eyes flooded with tears when you watched him leave. 
"Goodnight," he said at the door. 
You were too choked up to say it back. Leon waited for you to speak, knowing what you'd say. 
"Don't leave, please," you said, crying, not pouting, not whining, but crying. Leon remembered when you were a kid, and he slept on your bedroom floor because you didn't want to be alone. Because you cried and begged him not to leave, and he felt awful seeing your tears, knowing your mom walked out and your dad was rarely there, knowing that - whether you understood it or not - you meant, 'don't leave me like everyone else.' Leon couldn't do that to you, couldn't leave a neglected little girl alone. As he'd told you, he didn't have to do this by any obligation other than a self-imposed one. Sleeping in your bed right now was dangerous - your father could walk in, you could get the wrong idea and get more attached, you could try to go for round two - but, if you hadn't had sex, if he'd done the right thing in the first place and said no, you'd still have been crying in his arms, you'd still ask him to stay. The right thing to do would be to stay. 
He nodded and climbed into bed with you, letting you rest your head on his chest.
Leon was right: you were so very attached to him.
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celaenaeiln · 7 months
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One of Dick's greatest strengths is his ability to manipulate every single person in existence.
Genuinely I think this makes him the smartest person in the room. Not only is he a brilliant detective, but the fact that he's able to outmaneuver and control virtually everyone including other geniuses and masterminds makes him the most terrifying. There's a reason why his enemies have give up using intelligence against him and simply resorting to brute force.
Now hold your horses before you bring your crowbars and let me explain.
Dick once said, "On an even playing field, I always win."
And it's true. But how do you even the field if your enemies are geniuses, detectives, or metas?
"Well, if you don't like how the table is it, turn over the table."
And that's exactly what Dick does.
Let's begin from his younger years. Dick is 19, newly out of Batman's wing and in no position to take on a skilled mercenary on by himself. But the mercenary isn't going to stop just because he says please. So.
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DEATHSTROKE WAS CLEARLY NOT EXPECTING TO GET OUTPLAYED BY A 19 YEAR OLD.
"You're right Slade, he's not a fool so choose a dumber kidnapping victim next time."
Ofcourse this is the least of his abilities.
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This cover is perfect because it shows how two of them are literally in a constant game of chess. And evidence of Dick's tactical expertise was never more obvious than the bombing of Bludhaven.
By all means Dick had won.
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And he's right. Dick is incredibly intelligent, and he has to be given how he maneuvered the entirety of the world to save him city. Not just the heroes and villains, but everyone - the heroes, the villains, the government, the civilians, the organized crime - everyone. He ruled the freaking world at that moment.
@haroldhighballjordan actually made a post about this that explains this scene so well
But yeah Slade knew he lost so in his petty vengeance what he basically did was set the whole fucking chessboard on fire.
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The perfection to which Dick had calculated and moved millions of people to force Slade into abandoning their game and leave him shrieking and seething in rage over his loss. Another reminder that this game only happened because Dick manipulated Rose away from her father, away from his control to a better life.
Spyral is one of my favorite comics because it shows just how good of a manipulator Dick Grayson is.
One of Dick's coldest traits is his ability to manipulate a situation to fit his needs.
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In the beginning Dick wanted to calm the meta down and take him in but the second his opponent let out the slightest hint of weakness, look how fast he flips his words. This man is brilliant.
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And his planning came to fruition as the meta wore himself out, allowing Dick to take control of the situation and the opponent with no harm to himself-a quick, two second exit. He can manipulate emotions, thoughts, and people to get what he wants like he's playing chess with a child.
But it's not just other people- he can completely change himself to become a whole new person. In the earlier chapters, Dick is learning how to shoot a gun for the agency.
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Dick's a terrible shot. Not a single bullet lands in the center of the target-there's no way he's ever going to shoot well....or atleast that's what he wants you to think-
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"Yeah, well, that's what spies do."
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"We lie."
He's a puppet master and the final boss.
part 2
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scuderiasundays · 6 months
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better together
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summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌
words: 1,045
a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.
It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.
Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.
Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.
The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.
Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.
“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.
As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.
He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.
His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.
As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 
“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.
“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.
“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.
He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?
You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.
"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 
The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.
It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 
His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.
New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.
He replied right away.
I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?
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Text
Rainy Season - Part 3
Storm Warning
Azriel Eris x Reader
We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
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3 months later
Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.
Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.
“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.
Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Followed by a yelp of “ow!”
Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.
Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.
Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”
The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”
So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.
The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”
Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.
The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.
“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”
She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.
Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?
Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”
Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.
“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”
“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”
Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”
“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”
“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”
Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”
“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.
—————
It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.
After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.
Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.
Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.
Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.
After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.
What an interesting method of meditation.
She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.
He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.
Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.
Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.
As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.
“What do you want?” She spat.
Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”
Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.
“Only within the palace.”
“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.
“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.
“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”
Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”
Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”
“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“
Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.
“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”
The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.
“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”
She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”
She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.
“Good. Hold for three beats.”
“Now let the breath out.”
She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”
As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.
“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”
She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.
He only let out a soft laugh.
“There she is.”
She scowled in return.
“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.
“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”
Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.
Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.
He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”
She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“
“I had one too. I believe you know her.”
—————
Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.
He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.
As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.
Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.
Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.
She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.
Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.
She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.
As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.
Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.
Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.
Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.
“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”
“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.
“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.
He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.
“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”
Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.
“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”
Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.
He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.
“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”
She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”
As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.
His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.
Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”
Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”
She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”
They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”
Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.
With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.
They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.
He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.
The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”
She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.
No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.
————————
This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.
Tags:
@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study
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frannyzooey · 2 months
Text
Short Days, Long Nights: 18
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: extremely soft
A/N: An epilogue to end our story, I'll reblog later with all of my thank yous. For now, this final chapter is dedicated to @mrsmando ❤ and her big giant heart, for whom this story wouldn't exist without.
Series Masterlist
-
FIVE YEARS LATER 
“Honey?”
Placing his keys on the table in the entryway, Joel tilts his head to the side and listens. Silence greets him instead, but it’s a warm one. Peaceful.  
Sunlight streams through the open windows in the living room, and he walks through the beams of soft light towards the back of the house, passing through a scene of domestic disarray: a blanket tossed over the couch, toys scattered on the living room floor, small shoes that he bartered for last week kicked off and tossed on the stairs. Bending down to scoop them up with a sigh, he carries them into the kitchen. Placing them on the table, he looks around for any sight of you. 
The backdoor ajar, he heads into the backyard. 
“Honey?”
“Yea?”
Calling to him from the middle of the garden, he spots you with a smile – right as a small body crashes through the bushes with a shriek. Running straight for him, Joel automatically holds his hands out to catch June, but she looks behind her and screams, dodging his reach instead. Another child comes through and then another; a game of tag that’s crossed borders between the houses. 
“Hey! Stop runnin’ through! Just go around em’!”
You stand from your place in the garden, picking your way carefully through the sprouting plants. Your face and shoulders come into view first, and then your stomach – the soft swell only just beginning to show. At the sight of it, he visibly softens and comes over to help you, lending you his hand. 
“You sound just like a cranky old man,” you tease, brushing the dirt from your knees. Looking up at him with a squint against the sun, you grin and mime shaking a fist. “Stay off my lawn!”
“Well I am an old man,” he says wryly, defending himself. “Besides, all I need is for a kid to get hurt bustin’ through those bushes like that.”
He looks over his shoulder and surveys the damage for a moment; the squall of children slightly muted from the front yard. Bringing his eyes back to you, he steps closer and reaches for your bump, splaying his touch over it. 
“How we feelin’ today?”
“Oh god,” you answer with a sigh. “Tired.” 
Letting your head drop forward, you rest it on his shoulder. His hands glide smoothly from your stomach to your hips, encouraging you to lean into him and you do, pressing your cheek against his chest. Warmth radiates through the material of his shirt, and you close your eyes and breathe him in. Sunshine, sweat, the faint smell of the stables and the horse he rode today while on patrol lingers in the fabric, and your body relaxes against his. 
“How was your day?” you murmur. 
“Good. Tommy n’ Maria wanna know if we can come over for dinner this week. Guess she’s been askin’ for that dessert you made last time, wants to know if you can bring it over again. What was it called?”
“Brown sugar pie.” You burrow even closer against him, and his arms slip around your back in an embrace. 
“That’s the one.”
“I think I have everything I need for it. I can do that.”
“I told him I would let em’ know tomorrow. Got patrol with him again at dawn.”
You look up at him with a pout. “So early again?”
He says nothing, bending to press his mouth to your forehead. 
“I miss you in bed when you leave so early in the morning.”
His kiss drops lower, catching your nose.  
“You know I like curling up next to you. You’re like a human furnace.”
The edge of his mouth lifts. “I know, I like it too. But duty calls and all that.”
Presenting your lips for a kiss, he grants a lingering, full press of his mouth to yours and then pulls back. 
“You need me to carry anything into the house?”
“I don’t need that kind of help just yet,” you reply. 
He puts his hands up in defense with a smirk, taking a step back. “Just askin’”.
You wave him away, turning back towards the garden and he turns to head into the house, calling over his shoulder. 
“I’m gonna take a shower. Is he sleepin’ inside?”
“Yes,” you call back. “Try to be quiet when you go in. He kept me up most of the night, so I know he’s tired too.”
Nodding, he catches the screen door before it smacks the frame behind him and quietly heads upstairs.  
The bedroom is scattered with the same lived-in mess that downstairs is: the quilt thrown back over rumpled sheets, his sweats on the floor, a scatter of items on the dresser. Reaching over his head, he tugs his shirt off in a smooth motion, and tosses it on the bed before sitting down with a soft groan, bending forward to unlace his boots. 
His bare back is littered with long ago healed scars, one of them pulling tight across his flank. Sitting up with a stretch, he rubs at it with his hand, the muscle underneath sore from so much time spent in the saddle. Heading into the bathroom, he tosses the rest of his clothes into the laundry basket and steps into the shower, letting the water beat down on his lower back.
Four years in, and he still lets out a sigh of appreciation every time. 
Done and dressed in fresh clothes, he pads around the bedroom in bare feet gathering the rest of the laundry. A mix of his and yours, a threadbare blankie that needs washing, a sleeper on the dresser. Tossing it all into the basket, he goes into June’s room to do the same. 
Picking up the small guitar she plays with while he practices on his own, he places it carefully against the corner of the wall and gathers the laundry she’s left at the foot of the bed. The room reflects the girl herself: purple walls, drawings taped up on every surface, a butterfly suncatcher that hangs in her window scattering rainbows over the floor. 
Hearing muted babbles from the next room over, Joel grabs a shirt off the floor before heading over to the closed door. Opening it, he’s greeted with a grin. 
“Hey big guy," he says lowly, setting the basket on the floor, peering over the side of the crib. Built by Joel shortly after you arrived in Jackson, he thumbs at the mending it needs on the corner, thinking about how it’ll need to be moved into the bedroom in about five months. 
Still puffy with sleep, the boy’s face resembles yours so much that Joel’s eyes crinkle with affection. “You ready to get up?”
One hand holding the basket and the other one dangling to let his son grasp it, they slowly navigate the stairs together, entering the kitchen just as June comes through the back door with you right behind her. 
“Someone woke up, I see,” you coo, scooping the toddler into your arms. 
“You done playin’ tag, June Bug?” Joel asks, squeezing her shoulder. 
“Yea. The other kids had to go home for lunch. Can you make me something to eat, Daddy?”
Routine takes over, the afternoon sliding into the evening, twilight descending around the house. The picture window in the front is a beacon of light; figures moving around inside. Dinner, playtime, bathtime. A freshly bathed June and Henry – Hank, for Hank Williams – in Joel’s lap on the couch while he reads them a book, the gentle clink of dishes being washed sounding from the kitchen.
After the kids are tucked in for the night, you find him on the porch. Pulling his flannel tight around your torso, you take a seat next to him and he wordlessly drapes his arm across your shoulders, tucking you close. Handing him a well worn mug with an owl on it, he hums with approval when he discovers the whiskey inside. 
“I saw the midwife today,” you say, spreading your fingers over your bump. “She said everything looks good so far, and gave me something for the heartburn.”
“Is it still real bad?” he asks, and you nod. 
“She says that it’s a sign it’s gonna be a girl,” you smile at him, shrugging. “I don’t remember having it too bad with June though, so who knows.”
Watching your fingers smooth your shirt over the small bump with a rub, the action moves in time with the slow rocking of the bench. Another sip of whiskey, and Joel thinks about how much has changed between then and now: a fleeting image of your younger face, a picture of a river, a cabin just beyond.
The comfortable silence between the two of you lets his mind continue to roam, the memories coming in flashes: the trek across the country, the simultaneous relief and on-edge anxiety he felt when the walls surrounding Jackson first came into view. A familiar voice calling through the fog, one he thought he’d never hear again. Favoring his left side due to a deep gash still healing from an encounter with raiders, warmth slipped from his eyes as he clutched his brother tight, unwilling to let go. 
The same brother he saw just this morning, and who he’ll see again tomorrow. 
“You’re so different than the guy I left all those years ago,” his brother said later on, and Joel had said nothing, just lacing his fingers with yours. 
He is different. 
The years have softened him around the edges, or maybe the kids have. Or maybe it’s you.  
Relaxing into him, his cheek comes to rest on the top of your head.
“You tired, honey?”
“Yea.” The word slips out, the edges rounded. “But keep rocking me?”
Fireflies spark and dance in the air, the wisps of a song caught on the wind from the neighbor playing their radio next door. Your profile is highlighted with the softened light from inside, your cheeks plump with health and happiness and enough food, the frown lines from ever present anxiety smoothed away years ago. He gently collects the soft hair at your temple with a soothing stroke and your eyes flutter shut. 
His boot pushing off the wooden floorboards of the porch, he rocks and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, letting the gratefulness pass through him. 
The old life feels like a dream, or maybe this is the dream – with a wife sitting safe and sound beside him, on the porch of a home filled with his children. 
Everything possible because you imagined it possible. Everything here because of you.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, and you nod, not moving. 
The edge of his mouth lifting in a smile, he tucks you in closer and rocks.
THE END
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benkeibear · 1 year
Text
☰ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬
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⧫ Characters: Mikey, Draken, Nahoya
꒰ ͜͡➸ Forgiveness | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Taiju/Hanma/Kazutora | ꒰ ͜͡➸ Ran/Rindou/Sanzu
⧫ Reader: genderneutral
⧫ Wordcount: 2.1k
⧫ Summary: They have sworn to never hurt you - but during an arguement they lose their temper and their hand slips, slapping you across the face.
⧫ WARNINGS: reader getting hit, mentions of abuse, getting called slut and bitch
⧫ A/n: finally a new part to the series. The apology part will be up soon then!
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☰ Mikey:
Being married to Mikey was never easy but that's what made it worth it - Nothing beautiful comes easy after all. The first time you met Mikey was way back in your childhood, harboring a crush for him since the moment your eyes met for the first time and a stupid childhood crush turned into more eventually, the feeling mutual. Of course you knew about his dark episodes, but it didn’t bother you much, accepting this side to him as it wasn’t his fault. You were also one of the very few people who can help him snap out of it - but dark impulses or not, Mikey would never lay a hand on you, that’s what he promised. He would much rather cut his own hands off if that's what’s necessary to keep you close to him.
He adored the way you always took care of him, packing him some lunch here and there or simply letting him a bath in when he got home all exhausted. He never needed to say anything it was as if you knew already what was needed and he tried to give you back as much as he could in his own way. Lately however it started to irritate him. The reason was unknown to him but the stress from leading Bonten became too much and no amount of your love could fix this - quite the opposite actually, your love suffocated him.
Of course you got more loving the more stressed he got, trying to make his life easier with taking care of more and more things, even going as far as coming to his office to bring him his favorite lunch or to relieve him of stress in other ways and he usually never minded, even enjoying it when you sat on his lap during meetings. But this time it was different as you opened the door, entering with a timid smile when the men turned their attention to the door opened much to Mikey’s dismay. „What are you doing here?“ he asked annoyed, not even looking at you.
Taken aback by his cold behavior you sighed „I brough lunch for everyone“ you mumbled, your own voice betraying you. Ran started chuckling „aren’t you a sweet one, bringing your husband food like he’s a little child“ he joked, the room erupting in laughs and giggles. As you looked around the room, everyone was laughing or at least smiling - everyone but Mikey who stood up and made his way to where you were standing, holding onto your wrist harshly before dragging you towards the door but you stopped him. „Let go of me“ you spat, trying to free your wrist and he only tightened his hold. „Leave“ he growled, looking you dead in the eyes with no love to spare which made you nod out of fear. „I- i just thought we could spend some time together“ you whispered, feeling your lip starting to quiver which he ignored. Instead Mikey made his way over to the bag you sat onto the table, throwing your homemade food into the trashcan „why do you think I’m rarely home lately, hm? I don’t have the nerve to spend time with you or eat the shit you call food“ he said monotone, everyone falling silent as the scene unfolds in front of them.
It was embarrassing, the way he spoke to you like this in front of everyone and you felt a hot tear sliding down your cheek. „Why did you marry me if it’s so horrible?“ you asked, raising your voice in desperation and he walked over to you again, eyes empty. „I don’t know what I was thinking either. Leave“ he spat, pushing you towards the door but you refused to move, instead you took your ring off, letting it drop to the ground. This action woke him up and he stared at the round object on the floor „fine. Now you’re just another slut I fucked“ he mumbled, your sob that followed clearly irritating him.
All you could see was how his hand raised, connecting with your face in a harsh slap which echoed through the silent room „SHUT UP“ he screamed, not wanting to hear you cry but before he could realize what happened you were already out of the room, Sanzu running after you in utter shock. Mikey went into a fit of rage, throwing everyone out of the room before he completely trashed it - finally breaking down himself as he repeatedly slammed his head onto the floor. He hit you. The realization finally sunk in and he despised himself for it. How could he have done this to the only person who ever truly loved him? The only person that stuck around despite his flaws… you only meant well and he ruined it.
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☰ Nahoya:
Before you even got together with the always smiling Kawata you were well aware that he’s a big flirt, relentlessly flirting his way into your heart every time you came to eat at their Restaurant. When you couldn’t take the back and forth flirting between the two of you anymore, you finally agreed on one single date with him just so he would stop… one date turned into many more, falling for the man behind the playful banter. The day you got together he promised, he even swore that he will be loyal, you own his heart and he doesn’t want anyone else because he has the best partner right at his side.
And he was loyal, that much can you say but he was still flirting with every living being. Sure you trusted him not to go further than simple flirting but it was l painful to witness, especially when this woman was all over him, going as far as running her hands over his abs, dangerously close to his crotch. You couldn’t even blame her, he was handsome after all but he made no effort to stop her wandering fingers, enjoying the attention even. When he whispered something in her ear which made her giggle you had enough, stormin off to the kitchen where a clueless Souya became the victim of your little anger fit, trying to reassure you that his brother would never cheat on you, but still it’s not okay that he didn’t stop her. Please don’t make him choose a side, he loves you both so much.
The rest of the day you avoided your boyfriend like the plague, having enough of his „harmless flirting“ since he didn’t even care about how it affected you. Only inside the walls of your home you looked for a conversation, not wanting to go to bed angry. „Hoya… we need to talk“ you mumbled softly, almost scared and his eye twitched ever so slightly at your tone. „If it’s about your little Tantrum, leave it. I don’t want to hear it“ he said serious, turning his attention back to the game he was currently playing. With a sigh you sat down next to him, wanting to rest your head on his shoulder but he shrugged you off, clearly upset with you which made you angry. „You have no right to be angry with me! She was touching you all over and you even enjoyed it instead of stopping her“ you raised your voice, frustrated by his childish behavior. You could see from the corner of his eyes that his smile slowly faded „can you stop being such a jealous bitch? It’s not like I fucked her or anything“ he raised his voice as well now, scaring you further but you had to stand your ground. His game was lost by now since his attention was on you now, waiting for you to cave in and agree or to say something, anything. „I know you didn’t but it hurts to see you like that. You’re my boyfriend and I love you after all“ you mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
A chuckle escaped him „I can go to bed with whoever I please“ he said cold, annoyed by how clingy you were being and his words stung like a knife. Your head snapped up to look at him, face becoming emotionless „Fine. With everyone except for me. It’s over“ you said calmly but he mistook your calm behavior as an invitation to fight, his hand coming down on your cheek with so much force your whole head was throbbing.
Now it was his turn to be concerned, eyes wide open as his hand reached out for you, never quite touching you as you backed away from him, face full of betrayal as you nodded. „It’s over Nahoya Kawata“ you whispered as the tears started to fall, leaving his place as fast as you could and he let you leave, too shocked by his own actions… this was never supposed to happen, he was supposed to love you, touch you gently and instead he broke your heart and raised his hand.
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☰ Draken:
Draken always treated you like a princess, supporting you in everything and protecting you from the less nice things in life. His hands would always cup your cheeks with utmost care, as if you would crumble and fall apart if he isn’t that gentle. He might be tall and intimidating to some but to you he was a teddy bear, a gentle giant, he was your Ken. You came into his life when he thought that he could never love again after losing Emma, only to show him that he can love you and still value what he had with Emma.
Perhaps it was the way that you understood what he was going through, not forcing him to anything, instead being a good friend and encouraging him that it’s okay to go out again and date other person - but the supportive friendship ended with a confession from his side, that he doesn’t want just anyone, he wants you. You, who told him it’s okay to still love the woman he lost, she was ripped away from him in a cruel way, knowing that he would still be with her now if that wouldn’t have been the case. You, who understood the pain the grief brought along or the way he still misses her, the way he refuses to let go of her memory.
Filling this void inside of his heart would never work and both of you knew it so you never tried to replace her, instead you encouraged him to not forget her and for that he loved you, you never had to try to be her to gain his love, he loved you simply because you were you.
However all relationships have their rough patches and so did yours when he tried to make you compete with his passed lover, letting you know that she was better in some things and when her name slipped from his lips during some intimate times you drew the line. You became distant right after the incident, leaving him clueless as he didn’t even realize what has happened.
„Emma would have talked to me“ he said frustrated as you avoided to even look at him and something in you snapped. „I can’t take it anymore Ken. Emma Emma Emma. That’s all you said for weeks! I know you loved her and that it’s not easy but you need to stop comparing me to her“ you raised your voice in desperation, hot tears threatening to spill but he wasn’t phased, too caught up in his own head to realize what he’s doing. „Apparently you don’t understand. Emma would have never talked to me this way!“ he raised his voice now too to match yours and you sighed.
„Ken. I am not Emma. I am a different person. Emma is dead so stop comparing me to her, SHE IS DEAD“ You didn’t intend to scream the last part but your frustration took the best of You. What you didn’t expect was to feel the palm of his usually so loving hand connecting to your cheek with a harsh slap, immediately taking a step back he looked at you and his hand in horror.
„Shit i- I didn’t mean to… fuck“ he whispered, shocked by his own actions and the way you were sobbing broke his heart but he couldn’t reach out for you, too scared you would flinch away from him in fear - he never meant to hurt you. „It’s okay Ken. I‘m sorry I wasn’t enough“ you sniffled and slid past him, needing to leave, unable to handle the fact that the man you loved so dearly, the man who put all the stars in the sky for you just hit you.
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Networks: @tokyometronetwork
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libraryraccoon · 23 days
Text
A Penguin And The Angel Of Death
Gift for : @deadghosy
Gender : Penguin
Pronouns : They/Them
Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.
TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.
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How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.
Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.
"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.
Friendship. Instantly.
He was your platonic soulmate.
I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.
The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.
“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.
You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.
Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.
"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.
“Yo bitch.”
They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.
"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.
You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.
Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.
Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.
Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.
Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.
You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.
Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.
Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.
You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.
You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.
I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.
I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.
It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.
It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.
They had a party to celebrate it.
No one can fuck with you.
Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.
Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.
Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.
And it works.
I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"
Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.
The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.
Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️
Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.
Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.
But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..
Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.
The best moments are those of hugs.
Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.
Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?
I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-
You are always in the middle of family hugs.
Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..
LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months
Note
Congrats on 5k!!!
I love little off-duty tidbits about the 141. What they get up to when they’re not on a mission, what do they do for fun on base, what do they do in their private time etc.
—Count The Hours
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞
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John Price: Reading ➺
It was no secret that John liked to indulge in quiet time whenever he got the chance. Always surrounded by soldiers and hurling orders eventually got to even the most skilled Captain—he was no different even if he’d been at this for countless years. 
On the days when the silent sounds of the house were able to be appreciated for what they were: the running of the laundry, the small creak of the kitchen cabinet that needed to be oiled, and the sound of your soft humming, it was a sacred turn of events. Such mundane, and normally labeled nuisances, were an excellent backdrop for the words on the page of his book that flew from the paper. Scenes unfolded from times and places long past; everything was separate. A perfect way for the mind to unwind. 
You pass by silently as John reads, kissing his forehead when he grunts in pleasure. The man lets his fingers brush your thigh as you move off to do whatever you wish. He knew you’d join him eventually. 
Reading was good, but nothing quite beat the perfect distraction that was you. 
John flips a page and absentmindedly itches at his beard.
Simon Riley: People Watching ➺
“I bet she works in a cafe,” you mutter softly. “Look at her clothes—those are cafe clothes. Gorgeous.”
Brown eyes blink at the woman in a long skirt and a neat blouse, coffee cup in hand as she walks the ground before disappearing around a bend. 
“What are bloody ‘cafe clothes’?” Simon grunts, giving you a strange look from over his balaclava. The bench you two sit on is far removed into the trees of the park, and you smile as you lean into the man and intertwine your fingers with his, stealing his body heat. 
“I can’t explain it,” you wave your free hand as Simon chuckles lowly. “Your turn.”
“Pick one for me,” he grumbles. You point to a man dressed sharply from across the path, bending down and tying his shoe as a child plays with their mother near a picnic basket and blanket. Your lips twitch into a smile. 
“Accountant,” Simon says easily, squeezing your hand as he blinks slowly, casual with his guesses. “Child’s birthday—he’ll ‘ave to go in soon.”
“Really?” You chuff under your breath. Simon hums, vision sliding about as his thumb runs over your knuckles. “I guessed a hitman.” 
The man at your side looks down once more. “You what?”
Johnny MacTavish: Hiking ➺
The both of you are covered in dirt and sweat, lying on your backs with your packs about a foot or so away; lungs working inside of your chests as you smile like fools. 
“Remind me to let you carry me back,” you pant, chuckling as the form beside you rubs at his face—pushing back the grime. Nature is all around you two, the grass behind your bones and the open sky above your heads. Johnny and you rest for a short while on top of the hill, the wind picking up from the East but not so to an unmanageable degree. 
It had been on a whim to come out here on such short notice, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t enjoyable. 
Johnny always made hiking trips enjoyable. 
“Aye,” he laughs. “Don’t worry, Dearie, I’ll manage.” A moment of shared smiles passes between you two—you reach out and push at his cheek teasingly.
Johnny chuckles and grabs at your wrist, bringing it back and laying a firm kiss on the palm that leaves your already hot cheeks burning. 
“Ready to keep going?” You’re asked delicately, those cobalt eyes crinkled with love. 
“Oh, if I must,” you tease. 
The man kisses you once more before standing, offering you a hand without a second thought through a gentle smirk.
Kyle Garrick: Cooking/Baking ➺
Kyle’s rolled-up sleeves are pushed back even more as he hums under his breath, the gentle jazz filling the room to mix with the scent of fresh bread and stew. You rest your head on the island table of your shared flat, watching as the man glances back at you and your arm pillow.
He chuckles. 
“You don’t have to watch, Love.”
“Want to,” you mutter, eyes soft. The man’s smile turns sheepish as he glances away.
The man adds what he needs and says over his shoulder cheekily as you blink. “Well come on then, I’ll need you to taste test. Tell me what it needs.”
You chuckle and stand, walking over and sliding up beside him as Kyle takes a spoon and brings some of the broth to your lips. Your hand cups under the utensil, sipping it down. 
You hum under your breath, glancing at him. 
“It’s delicious, Kyle,” your fingers go to steal the spoon, but it’s moved away from you swiftly with a teasing tsk of his tongue. 
“Ah, ah—it’s not done,” the man beams, kissing your cheek and putting the spoon down. “Patience, Love.” 
“C’mon,” you lean into him, looking up into his face. 
Instead, a kiss is pressed to your lips, making you melt as a hand comes to circle your waist. 
Kyle leans back, smirking as he licks his lips.
“More salt,” he mutters, pulling back and disappearing into the pantry as you gape after his tall form.
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yandere-kittee · 11 months
Text
Yandere! Experiment x Scientist!Reader.
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
Note: I haven't posted in a long time, so have this as compensation. (I haven't finished writing my smut yet(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) )
❦Contains: Yandere behavior, platonic yandere, murder, manipulation, Gn! Reader, You are just called 'Mom'.
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
You were horrified by the scene in front of you, even more when the reason for this scene was reaching out to you with such an Innocent smile.
"What's wrong Mom? Shouldn't you be happy that they won't seperate us anymore? " It asked you, staring up at you with blood splattered all over their face, their bloodied hands holding onto your white coat.
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you raised a shaky hand, patting it's head, "Th-That's right, you did such a good job sweetie. " you said with a shaky voice, it was hard not to when you've just been scared out of your wits mind.
It's smile widens and buries it's head against your stomach, most definitely smearing blood onto your clothes, your glad for it because you didn't want them to see tears spill and run down your cheeks.
While they hug you, you had to watch with horrified eyes as you saw all of your colleagues dead mutilated bodies on the floor, blood and guts splattered everywhere, their deaths we're cruel and inhumane as the cause for their deaths hugs you.
This monster.
You honestly should've seen it coming, being nice to one of the experiments that the facility your working for kept, maybe because they resembled that of a child, so you wanted to be more nice to it.
So you treated it like any child you've encountered, you we're gentle and patient unlike the others, you treated it as if it was human, you played with it.
And sometimes you'll sneak it snacks that children around your place often liked.
At first, it was wary of you, because naturally, they haven't had the best treatment from scientists in this facility, they weren't very nice with the experiments, it only seemed natural to treat them as such because they were monsters, made to be weapons of mass destruction.
But within months of treating them like you would a child, they had warmed up to you, seeing you as a Parental Figure, to which the others seemed to notice because they we're more cooperative when you're with them.
And soon enough, they we're now under your care, you became a research scientist with a part time job as a babysitter.
They soon became clingy and didn't want you to leave them, "Don't leave me! " They exclaim while clinging onto your arm in desperation, "I won't be for long, I will just be taking a break and I'll come back. " You said.
"Why not just take it here? You said you wouldn't leave me. " They said, rubbing their face against your arm, Right, you did say that.
"Well, I can't exactly be able to. My lunch box is inside the cafeteria. " You said.
You often give them things you find outside the facility, to give them something that may remind them of the world outside, pretty rocks, flowers, and etc.
Their room became a safe space for the two of you.
Until it wasn't.
"Mom! " They beam, standing up from their position on the floor once you arrive with fresh warm food in your hands, they walk up to you and sniff the food, "What's this one called? " they ask curiously.
"It's carbonara. I found a recipe for it and thought you would like it. " You settle the dish on the table and go to grab plates and utensils, "I always like the things you make me. " They smiles, sitting down on the chair.
"That's great to hear. " You say, opening the drawer of utensils, your eyes landing on the sharp knife hidden away.
...
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
I hope you guys enjoyed this! I quite enjoyed writing this one, anyways, sorry for the late post!
[Requests are open]
👏( 'ω' )👏( 'ω' )
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
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lynaferns · 9 months
Text
FNAF Steampunk AU
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That I never finished because I couldn't figure out what was going to be the story and character dynamics, and the role of each character, and yeah… I also spend many days writing, rewriting and changing thing, I didn't even get to finish the first draft and I got artblock.
I think my problem in the first place was that I wanted to make this AU stick to canon. A mistake, I know lmao. Later I thought of just making up most of the things but having to rewrite what I had already done dismotivated me.
So I thought of at least showing this character height chart I made a year ago. And maybe, idk, some of the wips that I never finished.
Maybe some notes and interactions I wrote under a cut.
If you ever want to ask me about what I had planned for this AU go ahead! Some main things about this story are:
All of the events of the story happens in a week (or so).
Gregory acts a little more scared than what is shown in the game.
DCAs arms can stretch up to 100 ft (30 m). He bends them to write or make shapes in the air.
Sun has some nowlege in animatronic repairs and maintenance due to being abandonent, having to repair himself.
Vanessa/Vanny have a biger role than in the game.
Burntrap also apeared more.
All animatronics are equiped with dart guns (for safety!). There are some places that require to leave the dart guns behind to continu.
Pizza is scuare (this is not important, I just felt like adding it).
Also, first idea and some doodles.
Gregory gets to escape to the locker rooms leaving Chica behind him. While searching for an exit Gregory gets surprised by Sun who was searching for him, and out of fright takes out the camera and flashes his bad eye damaging him for a few seconds.
Sun- "you were carring an object capable of blinding animatronics with you and you didn't use it against Chica to escape?!"
Gregory- "I didn't remember! I was more focused on running than taking a camera out of my pocket!"
Sun-pointing at himself with his hands- "And you had to remember when you saw ME?!"
Monty grabs Moon by the neck and throws him like a stick doing a spinning motion on the air, Roxy chases after him. She comes back carrying Moon with her mouth.
Freddy has an existential crisis by seeing endos. Moon is there awkwardly watching him. He gives him a pat on the back.
The auxiliary arm of the protective cylinder is broken, Gregory has to repair Sun manually. Trying to put his face plate back the nose falls off and Gregory nervously catches it juggling. They look between each others and the nose.
Sun-"..." "Gregory"
Gregory-"..."
Sun-"come on, say it"
Gregory-"..." "Got your nose~"
Vanessa is explaining something to the group. Moon is behind her copying her movements. The others are trying not to laugh. She notices and throws a flashlight at Moon.
They divide in groups. Moon gets on Monty's backs like a gremlin.
Moon-"go gator boy"
Monty-"I hate you"
One last, this is a whole scene that needs a bit of context. The current team members are Gregory, Freddy, Sun/Moon. They have figured out that the safe mode prevents animatronics from acting weird/hostile (found out the hard way in an encounter with moon and a fuse box). Though Moon seems not to attack Gregory anymore they wanted to test it with the rest of the band and found Chica, some things happened, they left her in her room in sleep mode and went to roxy raceway. This begins when they head to the west arcade to repair the service bot's head and on their way they encounter Chica out of the sleep mode but more normal.
(Forgive my poor writing, this was more of a script)
The four of them stare at each other until one decides to react.
Sun–”HELLLLO” Chica– holding her left arm–”A- Hiii, umm” Freddy– “He-hello Chica! What got you here??” Chica– “I-uh…patrol? I- think?? There… There is a child lost in the pizzaplex and we were, like- told to go find him, remember?” “Actually, wait, why are you out of your room? I thought maintenance put you on lock down- And what is the Daycare attendant doing out of the Daycare? it’s not the end of the hour yet- Oh!”–she just saw Gregory behind Freedys legs–”hey! you got the kid-”–flashback of the garbage compactor–”GET HIM”–she points at him with a dart gun– Sun–gets in the way–”WOAH WOAH WOW easy there!” Freddy–”Chica- wait! It’s ok he’s with us” Chica–”T-that-that kid is a menace! He- we should-HAVE to take him to the officer Vanessa–” Gregory–*gasp * Freddy & Sun– “NO!” Chica–”????wha-?
Freddy– “We must not take him to her.” Chica- “You guys kidding?” “These are literal-plain-instructions that you are- just-” “That kid threw me through the garbage compactor!” Gregory–”You tried to kill me!” Chica–”what?! No! I couldn’t do that, that’s against my programming!” Sun–”Uuumm, about that miss-” Chica–”YOU”–points at Sun with the gun– Sun–”?!” Chica–”You were there too!” “You have been with this kid all this time!” Sun–hands up-”Iwastryingtostophim” Freddy–”Chica, calm down, I know what this looks like but-” Sun–”OHMYGOSHWAITGUYS, she’s not hostile!” Chica–”wha-?” Freddy–”what…?” Gregory–”what??” “She’s literally pointing at us with a gun” Sun–standing next to Chica, pointing at her while looking at Freddy and Gregory–”I just noticed! her behavior changed-!” Chica–redirects the gun to re-target him–”you’re getting too close” Sun–ignores that–”She’s back to normal! That means the safe mode worked, we can use this!”
Chica–”What are you talking about?” Freddy–”You’re right! That’s a relief” “right Gregory?” Gregory–”...Yyyyyeah? I guess, yeah” Chica–”seriously, what do you all mean?” Freddy–”Well, It’s a little long story-” Sun–”And we will explain it to you!” “BUT not now, we are in a rush!” “To repair this bot-head so Gregory can ride the racecar” Chica–”...” “‘you serious?” Sun–”yep!” “Say, Gregory! You still want to ride?” Gregory–”uh-yeah” Sun–”Then let’s go!” “TO THE WEST ARCADE!”–grabs Freddy and Gregory and takes them there–”You can come if you want~!” Chica–”...” “OH- GOLLY, WELL” “I guess I’ll just go with you even though I don’t understand what is happening! And no one is going to give me an explanation!” Freddy–”-I promise that I’ll give you a wide explanation once we are done with all this… But in a more private place”
There are actually a couple more of scenes before this one (and after) but I'm not very confident of showing those (or any actually but I don't want this to be buried in my documents and forgoten because I really want to at least make a decent story)
Also, I know that the canon heights for the animatronics are like 6 ft but I prefered my height variety headcanons. Maaaaaybe they are a little too tall looking at it now that I look at it again but, eh.
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daisyvisions · 4 months
Text
✦ Day 33 - Wildcard (Double Penetration)
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‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Boyfriend!Hyunjae x afab!reader x Boyfriend!Younghoon
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.2K
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), threesome, porn with minimal plot, mask kink, poly!am relationship, double penetration (vaginal and anal), oral (m! receiving), fingering, nipple sucking, rough sex, lots of teasing, pet names (princess, good girl, sweet thing, baby, slut), double creampie, slight manhandling, ass slapping, slight roleplay, implied foursome
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: I can officially say my kinktober list is complete! Sorry this took longer than it should’ve BUT as I’ve said before, kinktober ain’t over til I say it’s over. Had way too much fun writing this in the end hehe enjoy! Proofread once
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet
✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦
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You’ve always loved celebrating Halloween for as long as you could remember. From picking the treats that go inside the snack bowl at home to the movies that you planned to binge watch with your family.
But most importantly, every year you made it a point to always dress your best. From cute silly costumes as a child to more sexier options as you started becoming an adult.
So when your boyfriends Younghoon and Hyunjae said they’d give you the best trick or treat surprise for you this Halloween, you didn’t think it would end up like this.
“C’mon baby, can’t you tell who’s dick you're sucking right now? Thought it would be obvious.” The man wearing a ghost face costume teases as holds your face together, fucking his length inside your mouth.
The other ghost face behind you chuckles with him, giving you a hard smack on your ass as he continues to rut himself inside your wet cunt. The squelching noises coming from you turning him on with every thrust.
From a third person point of view and with no context whatsoever, anyone who might’ve been watching the scene happening in front of their eyes right now would’ve thought an incredibly kinky porn was being filmed.
But to you, it felt like you were in heavenly bliss.
Sure, this is the first time you're being fucked by both your boyfriends at the same time. But your hot boyfriends fucking you with ghost face masks on? And the fact they’re making you guess who’s who? Yes please…
You release the cock in your mouth with a pop, slowly jerking it off as you pause in between trying to catch your breath.
It would’ve been really easy to guess whose cock you were sucking by now. But these two were ten steps ahead by making the room incredibly dark, leaving you to guess based on feeling alone.
“C-can’t you give me a hint?” You try to hold back a moan as the ghost face behind continues to roughly pound you, pulling back your hips til his whole length is bottomed out inside you.
“Nuh-uh princess. Remember the rules-” The ghost face in front of you caresses your cheek. “If you guess wrong, you don’t get to cum.”
You suddenly yelp when the ghost face behind you delivers a particularly hard thrust before slowing his movements and snaking his hand between your thighs to rub your aching clit. His fingers start quickening their pace, trying to get you closer to the edge.
With the little window of time you have before you reach your high, you try to recall all the moments you had with each boyfriend to give you any sign of who is currently fucking you and whose cock you’re currently jerking off.
“Fuck baby. Keep doing that-” The ghost face in front of you hisses. “Such a pretty slut for us don't you think?”
“Only ours. Isn’t that right?” The ghost face behind you slaps your ass once more.
You try to see if you could guess by the tone of their voices, but they both sounded too similar since the ghost face masks they were both wearing had muffled their voices.
And suddenly, the clue to finding out who’s who hit you.
You look up at the ghost face in front of you, giving him the prettiest doe eyes you could give.
“Please Mr. Ghost Face, can I ride your cock?” You ask with the sweetest innocent voice while trying to somewhat play the role you’re currently in.
“Yeah? Wanna ride my cock sweet thing?” He rubs his thumb on your bottom lip. You nod in response.
The ghost face behind you give your ass one more slap before pulling out, while the ghost face in front plops down onto the bed and instantly manhandles you. Pulling you to straddle his lap before grabbing your hips and pushing it down onto his length.
He wraps his arms around your waist for a moment, holding you down as the other ghost face positions himself behind you, teasing the tip of his cock at your asshole before pushing his length completely inside.
You let out a desperate moan from feeling incredibly full from two cocks dragging in and out of you both inside your cunt and your ass. The overwhelming feeling of being this full pushing you closer to your orgasm.
You hold onto the edge of the headboard, trying to find balance from how hard both your boyfriends are going at it with you.
“Fuck- look at you. Those pretty tits.” The ghost face under you groaning as your breasts start to spill out from your bra. You tried to hide your smirk, knowing you’d be getting your answer in a few moments.
“W-want you to suck on them, please-” you beg.
“Yes please-” He groans as he slightly adjust his mask enough to free his mouth and take in your hardened nipple between his lips, sucking them like there’s no tomorrow. Swirling his tongue around and slightly nipping them, making his cock twitch inside you from the act.
Bingo.
“P-please. Wanna cum so bad-” you moan out, feeling your orgasm getting close to the edge and tipping off any second from now. You could also feel both of their thrusts starting to become a bit sloppy signaling their own highs nearing as well.
“Then what’s the answer princess? Who’s who?” The muffled voice of ghost face behind you whispering in your ear.
“Who’s fucking that little pretty cunt of yours?”
“H-Hyunjae, it’s Hyunjae! Please let me cum-” You whine.
“That’s a good girl. Now cum for us won’t you?”
The second the ghost face behind you says this, knot in your stomach snaps in two. Making you see stars as your cunt tightens around Hyunjae’s cock.
“H-holy shit, she’s gripping my cock. Gonna cu- fuck!” Hyunjae pushes your hips down, bottoming out his length in you as he fills you up to the brim.
Younghoon follows close as his hips stutter. His thrusts slowing down and becoming sloppy as he empties himself inside your ass.
All three of you take a breather for a moment before you lift Hyunjae’s mask off. His sweaty bangs clinging to his forehead while his cheeks glow a blushing pink.
“What gave it away sweetheart?” He smiles at you.
“Between the two of you, you’re the one who can’t resist sucking my tits whenever they’re in front of your face-” You chuckle.
“Wait, seriously?” Younghoon huffs as he lifts his mask.
“Can’t help myself-” Hyunjae replies. “Plus, our princess is way too smart.” He strokes your cheek before pulling you down for a kiss.
“Well, if that’s the case-” Younghoon pulls you back up, pressing your back against his chest as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck.
“Why don’t we blindfold you next time? Maybe even give you noise cancelling earphones? That way you can’t even tell who’s fucking you...”
He nips your earlobe making you moan. He moves his lips close to your ear, whispering something only the two of you could hear,
“…And maybe bring a friend of ours to join, hm? What do you say?”
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igotanidea · 11 months
Text
The spell: Dean Winchester x reader
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„Sam? This better be important ‘cause I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
“I’m using the emergency line, right?”
“Last time Dean used the emergency line it was about lack of pie. I swear he’s older but acts like a complete child sometimes.” Y/N shook her head not that Sam could see that through the phone.
“Yeah.” He agreed “But I would never….”
“Remember the time when you lost a shoe?”
“That was one time Y/N! And it was…. Under different circumstances…..”
“Oh, relax, I’m just teasing. But seriously, go on and tell me what is this about, cause I really am busy.“
“It actually is about Dean…”
“Oh, I had a feeling this day would be intense. What do we deal with? Demon? Jinn? Shapeshifter? Oh, please tell me it’s shapeshifter, those are my favorites.
“A witch, in fact.”
“Fine by me.” Y/N shrugged, unaware that Sam’s words has a second meaning. Only the prolonging silence on the other side made her a bit suspicious “Sam? You’re still there?”
“Yes.”
“So? Where do we meet? At the motel or at the crime scene?”
“Stop talking like a CSI!”
“I am CSI, Sam! Now again, where do we meet?”
“At the motel. But please…..”
She did not let him finish, since Sam was making her impatient by straining information. So she had no idea what was coming for her.
***
“Guys?” Y/n entered the motel room without knocking and two pair of eyes landed on her figure. Sam was his usual self, calm and collected, sitting by the desk, working. But Dean…. Dean was distracted, in the lack of better word. Pacing around like he was suffering from the sudden fit of anxiety. “What the…..?”
“ Should have listened to me….” Sam muttered, while his older brother took one stride towards her and wrapped his arm around her without any word.
“Um… good to see you too, Dean, but what’s with the PDA?”
“Can I just hold you?” he mumbled, begin so out of character
“Yeah… I mean, sure” she frowned, hugging him back. This was unexpected, to say the least. They have been together for a couple of months now, but the older Winchester were mostly keeping his laid back attitude in the relationship. “But…..” she hesitated, but stopped the question. This was actually pretty nice. Having Dean in her embrace like this, being the one he was turning to. It made her heart stutter a bit.
“But what?” he asked pulling away
“You know what, nevermind” she smiled brightly brushing hair from his face “if you need me….”
“I always need you.” he burst without thinking
“ Oh….” She felt her heart skip a bit. That was definitely new and she wasn’t sure whether she should feel the warmth and happiness or rather get worried about his current state. “Um…that’s nice, Dean.” She hugged him again, at the same time peeking over Dean’s arm, mouthing words at Sam asking for explanation. “How about you sit here for a moment, Dean, huh? I just gotta talk to your brother, who surely owns me some explanation.”
“I don’t want to let go of you…..” Dean pouted
“I’m not going anywhere, I swear” she smiled and pushed him onto the chair next to Sam and talking the third left spot. Dean immediately leaned towards her and grabbed her hand, caressing it gently.
“Y/N…..” he turned towards her, begging for attention, even though she was doing nothing more than giving it to him
“Yes, Deanie?”  her eyes focused on her boyfriend without any sign of annoyance.
“Come sit on my lap.”
“What?” now she was blushing
“Come on…” Dean patted his thigh but seeing her becoming reluctant, just reached for her, grabbed her waist and put her where he needed her, hugging her to his chest from behind.
“Um…’ she muttered, distracted by his hands. He was doing nothing, just holding her and she was already melting. This was dangerous.
“do you want me to leave you two alone?” Sam laughed, but once he met with Y/n’s murderous gaze covered it by coughing
“Talk!” she shout at him “What happened?”
“You remember when I mentioned the witch?” Sam started
“Yes, of course. Now please, cut to the chase! Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather have the real Dean back. I want my bickering, teasing and sensitive on the inside boy.” Said boy were currently planting kisses on her neck. “Oh, god, I just can’t ….” She muttered, standing up from Dean’s lap immediately meeting with his sad eyes and mouth curved down. “I’ll be right back to you, sweetie, all right?” she smiled caressing his cheek and facepalming herself on the inside for calling him like that. What the heck was going on. Was it like the “it’s Tuesday again” situation? Did she wake up in alternative reality “Just stay here for a moment. And you.” she turned to Sam “you’re coming with me.”
***
“The charm?” fifteen minutes later Y/N and Sam were sitting in the booth in a crappy diner. The girl being herself ordered herself some pancakes, leaving the younger Winchester to do the talking “Guess I should have connected the dots… what? why are you looking at me like that?” she swallowed a particularly big piece of her dish and frowned
“You and Dean are so similar when it comes to your favorite food.” Sam shook his head and smiled lightly
“I’m hungry! I’ve been on the field for hours and didn’t have breakfast so cut me some slack! Now back to the witch. What do we do to break the spell? Burn her? Capture her? Slave her?”
“We are not doing anything. I’ve already got her location and ….”
“Sam…” Y/N sighed, putting her fork down and looking him straight into the eyes “you know the rules. You know I can’t let you go alone.”
“I’m not asking.”
“I’m not answering .”
“You either leave me alone or Dean. Given his current love-sick puppy state I think it’s pretty clear who need the supervision.”
“Sam…..” her tone became a bit warning
“Come on, Y/N, you know I’m right. It’s an open and close case. No trouble I promise.”
“You always say that….” She muttered “Fine. You really left me no other options, did you?”
“Look on the bright side.” Sam flashed a smile “you get to spend some quality time with you boyfriend. Maybe even get a little action….”
“Shut up Winchester!”
***
“I’m back Dea…. Woah!” she barely get the chance to step through the door when Dean swept her off her feet and spun In the air. “Put me down! Put me down!”
“Oh I may put you down, but I’m not letting you get away, again.”
“Oh please…” she scoffed, but not honestly not being opposed to his actions and switching rather towards teasing him about it “I was gone for like fifteen minutes, surely you did not miss me that….”
She was cut off by his lips on hers. Damn, he was such  a good kisser. And because of that spell also needy and maybe a bit desperate. Holy shit… Sam was right, it has been a while since….
“How’s that for not missing?” he asked cupping her cheek and brushing thumb over it. Oh, how she wanted to give in, let him pull her closer… Sad thing, she could not. It was like she told Sam in that diner- she was not opposed to clingy Dean, searching  for affection, but this was not him. She needed the assurance that all of his actions were a conscious choice not the side effect of some witchcraft.
“How about we slow down a bit, huh?” she pulled away, or rather tried to pull away, since his large hands stopped her from doing so.
“But I need you…” he whined
“I know honey, but ….”
“What? Why are you always turning away from me?”
“I’m not turning away, love.”
“I love you Y/N.”
“I love you too, Dean and that is why I think you need some rest. Don’t you wanna lay down for just a bit?”
“As long as you stay with me.”
“I will. I promise. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand and lead him towards the motel bed. It was far from comfortable, but both Winchesters and Y/N were already used to that. The girl slowly pushed Dean onto the cushions and reached for the blanket to cover him, but he was way  faster. When she moved towards the edge of the bed he grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush onto his chest, sneaking one hand under her shirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin. It was nice. It was really really nice, but she could smell his neediness with every inhale and exhale he was taking. So she moved a bit, just to look into his glistening eyes.
“What do you need, Dean? Tell me.”
“I just want to feel you next to me.”
“I think we got that covered “ she grinned “you practically got me caged here.”
“I’m sorry” he looked down, but she grabbed his chin and met his eyes again
“Stop it, Dean Winchester. You hear me, stop it. If I wanted out, you would never be able to stop me, but I chose to be here. So go on. Talk.”
“Can you just hold me?”
“Sure my pretty boy. Come here.” She laid on her back motioning for him to snuggle into her arms and put his head on her belly, arms locked around her waist. “It’s gonna be all right” she cooed running her fingers through his hair “We’re gonna get you out of this mess. You are not alone, baby.”
***
Two hours later, she found out she fell asleep. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and instinctively she turned onto the other side, hand searching for Dean but he was not there and her heart fluttered.
“Dean?” she mumbled getting up, rubbing her eyes and walking outside. He was standing by the railing, eyes fixed on the space “Hi….” She whispered slowly approaching him and wrapping arms around his waist, pulling herself closer.
“Hi baby.” He answered closing his eyes.
“Are you… back?”
“Guess Sam did some good work. And by himself. At this point I feel expendable. You two clearly can handle all this shit by yourself. “
“You idiot.” She smacked the back of his head in the lightest hit there ever was “Expendable. You are truly unbelievable. How much do you remember?” her voice trembled a bit.
“All of it.”
“Oh.” She gasped but then smiled “so you do remember the affectionate attitude?”
“Yes.”
“And how needy and whiny you were?”
“Yes.”
“And?” she tilted head trying to get any reaction out of him which clearly was going to be a little challenge. “Was it …. Was It just the spell.”
“No.”
“God, don’t piss me off, Dean.”
“It was all real, all right? Whatever charm this was it made me act the way I felt. Cause I do need you. And I should have told you that sooner.” He turned towards her and reached for her hand “you are important to me. Damn, Y/n, you know I love you, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, Dean.” She assured “you speak through your actions. And frankly ,the way you behaved was not about me. It was all about you.”
“How so?”
“You needed love. Affection. Some softness. Maybe it was all because of the fact you suppress all those needs? Cause you are reluctant to admit you have them? Hm?”
“I;m not even going to answer that.” He mumbled
“Dean, come on. We’re all humans… and yes, I believe that even despite you being a vessel for an angel, you are still human. It’s normal to need someone to hold you and love you. And you got me, so promise me, you won’t hide from me.”
“You want me to be open and honest?” he smirked
“Is that too much to ask for?”
“Yeah. Way, way too much. But I’ll try.”
“I can work with that.”
“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.”  
“I thought the effects of the spell were over….” She tapped her chin in reverie
“Guess I do have to take action by myself” Dean mumbled leaning forward and capturing her lips in sweet, gentle, delicate kiss. It was not needy, not anymore. It was a promise from him to try and do better in a relationship. “Shall we take that inside?”
“You had to kill the moment” she rolled her eyes at him “Welcome back, you prick.”
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