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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do a Chesshire reader x yandere demon slayers were they're out on a mission and come across demon reader and after the demon slayer sees the demons skill they want them but before they can get the reader, they vanished so now the slayers are after the reader on a search for them

(You don't gotta do this,I know it sounds weird but I thought of it and since I suck at writing I thought you could write it Please?)

Cheshire Demon Reader | Yandere Demon Slayer

You are like Tamayo, acting on your own from Muzan Kibitsuji. With a smile as wide as the crescent moon you can easily make yourself disappear long before the drop of a hat. Something you seem to use in order to avoid others from apprehending you both against demons and their slayers. You’re akin to a mischievous yokai that simply appears to mildly inconvenience the townspeople, who are probably well aware of you. But when confronted about you they just shake their heads and wave their hands–”Ah them? They're no problem, just a sneaky yokai that likes to play tricks but when it counts they’ve got our backs.”

And you do, enough to attract the attention of the demon slayers whose targets are no longer existent. Wondering who or what is killing these demons that have been so hard to track down. Only to find your smiling visage disappearing into the dark of the night:

Kyojorou Rengoku

“WELL….YOU DON’T SEE THAT EVERY DAY!”

He’s been put on a mission to catch a demon on the run

Eating people and destroying the remaining lives in its wake

So he arrives greeted by the people who both curse and rumor about Cheshire (Y/n)

And when night hits he finds a civilian in distress

Only to be seconds behind at the flick of your disappearing tail

The demon is subdued and he can only look at the demon pleading to die

“Oh, flame guy! Don’t you have the sword that’ll kill that thing? Go ahead, I wanna see what it looks like to die that way.” “OF COURSE! I PLAN TO! BUT WHY HELP ME?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He’s persistent

And he decides to keep finding out more about you

“Why don’t you make like a tree and leave flame boy?”

“YOU’D LIKE THAT RIGHT? THEN COME WITH ME, I DON’T THINK I’D BE ABLE TO LIVE WITHOUT YOU AFTER THIS!”

He loves you for your willingness to protect the humans around you

He doesn’t mind your mischievousness

But he’d appreciate it if you weren’t so slippery to catch

“COME DARLING! There is no reason to run! I have no plans to eliminate you. IN FACT IT’S QUITE THE OPPOSITE!”

Tanjiro Kamado

Same mission

He’s led by the scent of the demon

Only to catch another

It smells like Ms. Tamayo except its more curious

“Well well, who is this young sprout? I’ve never seen you before, what’s your name?”

You meet him earlier on

He probably doesn’t realize you're a demon though

Instead blushing at just the way that you are

Completely unaware of the way you’ve stolen his food

“Huh!? I just had it?”

“Ah, it must have been (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah, they’ve been awfully curious about newcomers as of late.”

He doesn’t mind it until he’s getting slapped around by the demon

Ready to pull out all the stops until you intervene

Saving his life and further making him fall in love with you

“I-I-I–”

“Awww don’t get your kimono in a twist baby Tanjiro.”

“I–”

“Ciao.”

It takes some time away when he decides to pursue you

You’ve broken away from Muzan so it's a given that he should want to know more about you

Don’t mind the weird bets he tries to instigate with you

“I-I-I’ll have you marry me! If I win you have to marry me!”

“Whoa whoa, that’s hilarious little boy…Let’s do it.”

Iguro Obanai

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to kill you, now.”

“Oh, will you then–!”

You’ll have a blast with him

He’s such an antisocial outcast he’s perfect prey for your antics

He’s such a downer the townspeople are slow to inform him about your reputation

“Stop! Stop moving!”

“Ha ha okay.”

“No wait–don’t!”

“Hehehehe.”

He gives up on killing you

When you interrupt him again

It’s to bring an end to the demon

And he quiets the attraction that bubbles in him when you terminate the demon

“Why…why would you save the people? As a demon.”

“ Don’t know. It’s fun here. And I won’t stand for anyone disrupting that.”

He figures he can take you

After all, they let that stubborn kid keep one

Why can’t he?

“Just come with me and I’ll stop bothering you.”

“Hahaha, that’s hilarious. Why would I stop now!? This game of cat and mouse is one I’m quite good at!”

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imaginesmai · 11 months

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Alfie Solomons - Night adventures

I've been sick for week now with the worst stomach bug ever, and this has been on my mind for a few days! Welcome back Alfie to my blog!

Plot: Alfie doesn't come home from work and you worry something has happened, so you decided to go to the bakery.

Warning: Alfie's vocabulary is just saying fuck, really.

The streets were empty, too late for the common citizens and too early for the unfortunate first-shift workers. You had only found a beggar sleeping in a pile of boxes and two men trying to get home stumbling through the pavement. The silence, the darkness, would have been a good reason to turn back and worry about him under the covers, warm and safe. When a cat jumped from a window and landed on a car, you actually took a few steps back.

But Cyril stared at the menace until the animal hissed its way back to wherever it belonged.

Swallowed in one of Alfie’s long coats, with his hat covering your face, you finished the thirty minutes’ walk to the bakery. A faint light was coming from the top floor, and anyone would have thought bakers were starting their day early.

You knew it was your husband, Alfie, who hadn’t finished his yet. There was a man posted on the back entrance, the one you always used when you came to see him unexpected. It was closer to his office, it was more discreet, and besides, you knew Ollie. He would be one less problem for you that night.

When the boy saw you approach him, his whole back tensed. His hand made it to the holster on his hip before he recognized Cyril and your soft smile, once you were close enough. The soft street light let you see his panicked stare.

“What – Y/N, what the fuck are you doin’ here?” he quickly grabbed you by your arm and, checking both sides, pushed you inside the bakery. “It’s fuckin’ two in the mornin’!”

“I am aware of that, Ollie, since I also own a watch” you told him, taking down your hat.

“How did you get – does he know you’re here?” Ollie, who had been almost asleep leaning against the door, was now growing agitated. “You didn’ brin’ a car. You walked?”

“Me and Cyril, yeah”

The familiar warmth of the bakery felt good against your sore muscles. Not only you had half-jogged half-ran for thirty minutes, but the tension of the night and the worries for him had made the cold weather of November seep into your bones. You weren’t about to let Ollie notice how glad you were to be finally somewhere safe, because that would only prove a point you were trying to avoid.

“Y/N, it’s the middle of the night”

“So it is for my husband, who was supposed to be home with me. But that big head must have forgotten his own watch at home, given he’s still here”

“He’s not alone. Someone came to see him, and the meetin’… yeah, it was longer than wha’ he thought”

“Oi, wha’ that noise ‘bout, yeah?” a booming voice came from the floor above you, the door of his office banging open. “Didn’ I ask for silence?”

Alfie, in all his grumpy and broody glory, leaned against the railing and saw both of you. You weren’t surprised to see he was still wearing his working clothes, a small, stained pinny wrapped around his waist. His hair was sticking in different directions from being tugged at, and his face complemented his mood when he locked eyes with you.

Of course, Cyril tried to reach him and let his presence be known with loud barks. You passed his leash to Ollie and made your way up to your husband’s office. The metal stairs echoed under your shoes, and even if you kept your eyes on them, you felt his on you every second.

Far from being intimidated or angry, you felt your worries melting away. He usually came home before the sun set – had picked that tradition years ago once you were officially married and hadn’t missed a day. But it had been a rough week for the both of you, and when he hadn’t shown up, you had feared the worst. Patiently, you had waited and called his office. After not receiving an answer and not hearing the door, you had decided to check for yourself.

You weren’t naïve enough to go alone, but since there wasn’t anyone around to accompany you, Cyril had been your bodyguard for the night. Many things could have happened. Some of them you could imagine, some remember from past experiences because of his enemies’ retaliations. All of them were present in Alfie’s eyes as you reached the top of the stairs and met him face to face.

“Hello”

His nostrils flared and he pressed his lips in a tight line, but behind all of that there was just fear. You waited until he looked at every part of your body, from your soft smile to the hem of your skirt. One of your hands took his fist and didn’t let go until he held it. Alfie didn’t let his frown go as he raised it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

“Aren’ your suppos’ to be in bed” he growled against your hand.

“With you, but you didn’t come and I was worried” you explained, moving a step closer to him. “Called and no one answered. I didn’t know if… so I came to check. Brought Cyril with me”

“Stupid dog knows you ain’t suppos’ to leave” Alfie looked down at Cyril, and his eyes softened. “You alrigh’, yeah? Nothin’ happen?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. And worried about you”

“Come ‘ere”

You fell into his arms and the remains of worry and tension left your body. He smelt like rum, bread and sweat, like home. You closed your eyes when his hand found the back of your head and pressed it against his shoulder. Later, you would probably have a long conversation about what you had done. Not only it had been reckless, but if you had been right, there wasn’t much you could have done.

His life came with highs and downs, and you had been there enough to know them. That doesn’t meant you had grown used to the feeling of not knowing if he was fine or not, if he was alive. When you hugged him closer, your arms around his middle, you let him know that you were glad.

Someone opened the door and you saw Tommy Shelby walking out of Alfie’s office. You didn’t like that man, neither did he like you, but you both respected each other enough. Eventually, their relationship would go south, either because of his or Alfie’s biggest interest; and you just hoped it wouldn’t go too south.

Alfie noticed his stare and turned around. Instinctively, you were covered by his huge back, not seeing anything but the sweaty locks at the back of his neck.

“I believe we were in the middle of something”

“And I believe it’s time for my husband to come home” you said from behind Alfie, trying to move around. Effectively, Alfie moved with you.

“Your’ gonna ‘ave to excuse my wife, mate. She’s right, ain’t she” Alfie said. He gripped your hand again and made you stay in place.

When it came to you and the business, Alfie Solomons had always had it clear. You had walked into his life and turned everything around, and if needed to, he would leave it all behind if you asked to. You always came first, no matter what. He could come home late, share his matters with you and attend to political galas by your side, but if you asked something, he could not say no.

So he stared down at Tommy, who had been arguing for the past six hours. He had just showed up when he was about to close the bakery, and the bouquet of flowers he had bought you was now sad and forgotten in the storage room.

“Alfie” Tommy warned him. “We need to close the deal. I’m not about to risk half my percentage if you aren’t willing to take the risk”

“The only risk I’m takin’ tonig’ is this lovely lady back ‘ome”

“You don’t get to kick me out! I am –“

Before Tommy could grow any more aggressive, he had Alfie’s gun pressed tightly against his chin. The baker was a few inches shorter than him, but somehow, he stared down at Tommy, daring him to keep talking. The Shelby brother looked at you with your arms crossed, biting back his next words.

“Listen, now, cause I believe, this¸ right, this is my fuckin’ bakery. My fuckin’ rum. Money. Business. And that’s my fuckin’ wife your’ lookin’ at, so unless you wan’ to go ‘ome wit’ one less eye, Shelby, stop fuckin’ lookin’ at ‘er”

“Get your fucking hands – “

“Shut the fuck up! You, barkin’ orders, at me?! In my fuckin’ work?!” Alfie screamed into his face, making Tommy take a few steps back. When the man once more met your eyes with the same, disgusted face, Alfie struck him with the gun. “Are you fuckin’ deaf?! Don’ look at her or I’ll rip your eyes out with my nails!”

Cyril barked as if he supported his owner’s words. You looked down and noticed Ollie was no longer alone. There were three other men, that had appeared out of thin air, at the bottom of the stairs. All of them looked ready to climb it in less than a second.

Not too far away, Tommy’s men would be close. It wouldn’t be the first time Alfie got into trouble because of you, or the last. His protectiveness was founded, but sometimes he went a little overboard. Tommy had looked at you many times before, and had been threatened each time he had done it.

Some part of you wondered if he was a sucker for Alfie’s threats or was really looking for them to become true.

Before your night could escalate into bigger events, you moved behind Alfie and wrapped your hands around his raised arm. You had gone to the bakery to find out if Alfie was there, to retrieve him from his pile of work and hopefully catch a few hours of sleep by his side. After a long day of own work, you were tired and in need of some peace.

“Let’s just go home”

Under your touch, Alfie relaxed and dropped the gun. He kept his eyes locked on Tommy and the man was smart enough to clean the blood of his lip and turn back. You guessed his men should be on the main entrance, and you were really thankful you had chosen the back one.

You watched him disappear. Watched, in silence, as the group of men that had surrounded you went back to their corners where you couldn’t see them. Alfie didn’t bother retrieving anything from his office, just closed the door and let you lead the way down the stairs.

Once you were down, he nodded to Ollie and the boy disappeared, carrying Cyril with him.

“That was dangerous, pet” he said, his voice soft. There was a rough, scared edge you had grown to notice through the years. “You, yeah, you can’t jus’ come ‘ere. You need to tell me”

“I know, Alf. But I did call. And you always answer. I knew you had a meeting and since you didn’t come home, I didn’t know what to think” you told him, not giving him. “What if it was the other way? What if I didn’t come home one night? Wouldn’t you come looking for me too?”

“I’d burn down fuckin’ Camden, luv, you know tha’”

“Then you can’t get angry at me, not at this. I was careful, nothing happened”

It hadn’t happened, but it could. Not only Alfie’s enemies. Night in Camden Town held more dangers than mobsters or gangs, ones that didn’t know who you were married to and weren’t afraid of your husband. It was irresponsible, dangerous, and you knew better.

It wasn’t the time, though, and Alfie knew it.

“Alrigh’, pet, alrigh’. Jus’ try not to send me to an early gave, yeah?”

“You won’t get rid of me even in a grave, Alfie Solomons”

His laugh echoed in the empty bakery. Alfie wrapped his coat closer to your body, not saying anything about your choices of clothes, and put his hat back into your head. Always the gentleman he opened the door for you and dragged you closer to his side.

You didn’t take the path you had walked, but the opposite way. Ollie’s car was waiting for you at the other end of the street, Cyril probably a looming threat in the backseat ready to tackle Alfie as soon as he opened the door. Finally in peace, you wrapped your arm around his middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Love you” you whispered, looking up at him.

“Yeah, luv you too, don’ I”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated!

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two-red-lungs · 11 months

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The Kids Are Alright (Eddie Munson)

Your first date with Eddie Munson is fine, as far as first dates go. You get pizza together: meet awkwardly outside the door at 7pm, hands sweaty, exchanging nervous, butterfly-riddled smiles. You eat. He can't stop moving in his seat opposite you, tapping his hands on the sticky enamel tabletop. He looks at you with big brown eyes. Wary, at first, then as the night goes on and it becomes clear this isn't some string-along joke, or a prank, with boyish glee.

But the second date is the one that really shines.

Eddie, in all his intellectual glory, takes you to the Dollar Tree.

It's late, again, and the D in the logo flickers in and out of existence. The air inside smells like cheap plastic, dust, and the urban sprawl of capitalism. This is a place that's usually... dead. A pathetic sort of dead, where dreams come to die, the cashier looks about five seconds from falling asleep, agonizingly boring elevator music plays over tinny speakers, and Hawaiian themed teacups are on sale for ninety-nine cents.

You think god, what the hell are we even doing here? This is hardly a dinner date, or the bowling alley, or makeout point, or any of the usual dates your friends always bragged so cooling about. But then Eddie looks at you over his shoulder, spins on his heel, and throws his arms wide. His outfit jingles.

"Welcome," he says with a glint in his dark eyes, "to the goddamn kingdom of imagination."

You should leave. God knows to anyone else at school this date could sound like a horror story, an uncouth, uncool, unladylike disaster. But there's something in those eyes. Something vibrant and alive and real. So instead of leaving you think, okay. Why not.

Best decision of your life.

He knows this place by heart, every white-tiled aisle under the buzzing fluorescents. And he's funny, too: you didn't expect him to be so funny. As you both slowly amble and push your squeaky-wheeled cart he picks up random shit, talking as he fiddles.

A fuzzy caterpillar cat toy becomes his moustache. He wraps a crinkled paper streamer around his neck like a boa and faints dramatically against some of the shelves. He scurries to the aisle next to you and pretends to walk down a staircase, disappearing from view: when his moppish head pops back up again, his wild hair flounces.

Huh. He smiles like the sun.

Eddie asks about everything possible, and god, under his stoner slang he's whip fucking smart. You crack a joke or a sarcastic reference and he smoothly returns it with equal emphasis, two tennis players on the court.

You check out picture frames. Eddie suggests throwing a little spraypaint on it, a little silver paint to light the edges, some weathering with sandpaper, and suddenly you've got yourself some primo decor.

"You like to paint?" You ask him, standing in the aisle, holding the shitty wooden frame. He's looking over your shoulder. You can feel his body heat, this close.

"I'm a big believer in, uh. Creativity, y'know?" His smile is big, toothy. Still nervous. Like as extroverted as he is, as big as his personality could be, the sting of a scoff or a sneer could still hurt.

You tell him that's cool. Something in his eyes softens.

God, you don't know how many hours you spend in that place, just talking and touching shit and discussing potential DIY projects and cool ideas. You talk comics, and music, and Hawkins social politics. He tells you about Tolkien. You tell him about David Brin. He likes David Murray, you like Siouxie Sioux. You both agree the autumn leaves this time of year make the Hawkins High look like its roof is on fire (and god, if only).

Your cart is full of bullshit you don't really need, bullshit full of promise and potential, and Eddie is letting you ride the cart with your feet on the front bar as he pushes it down the aisle at mach one speed. He splutters behind you, your hair in his mouth. He's laughing.

The total comes to 12 dollars even. The plan for the next date is to turn the kids bathtub toys you bought- ducks and dolls and dolphins- into zombies and mummies and other creatures with the shitty barely-opaque acrylics set you scored.

The sky is black outside, and it's raining. He asks if he'll see you again this week, and you say yeah, duh. The air feels like fireworks- like lightning, like a live wire. You think for a second that he's gonna kiss you.

Eddie pulls out a silver-plastic tiara from under his vest, nicked free of charge from the girl's section, and sets it on your head. It's cheap, pattern-punched plastic with pink plastic gems. It's perfect. He's made you a fairytale.

Munson bows, smiles again- the one that makes his eyes crinkle- and then he's off in his van.

He's so weird. He's so strange. You don't understand him.

You think you really like him.

#eddie munson #stranger things s4 spoilers #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #my writing #I'M NOT DEAD I'M JUST IN UNIVERSITY

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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

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Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k

Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...

---

"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.

It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.

Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.

You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.

"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.

"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.

God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…

Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.

A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.

"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."

"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"

Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.

"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."

You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."

Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.

Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.

"Thanks... let me get you some water."

You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.

Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.

"Hey! Your ride's here!"

You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.

"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.

"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.

You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!

You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.

He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.

He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-

"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.

"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.

Girlll me too. You think to yourself.

Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.

Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.

"Get home safe hunny," she says.

"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.

He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.

"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.

"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.

"Your name's Miguel?"

"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"

"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."

"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.

Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."

"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.

He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"

"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.

He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.

"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."

You laugh.

"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.

"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.

"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.

You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.

"You tired?"

"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.

Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.

Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...

"So, y/n , right?" He asks.

Fuuuuck he said my name...

"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."

Miguel smiles.

"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.

"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "

"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.

"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!

"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."

"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.

"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.

Miguel smiles at your stutters.

"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."

Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."

"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?

"So, how old are you?" You ask.

Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."

"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.

"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.

"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.

"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.

The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.

"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."

Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.

"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."

Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.

"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."

You sigh.

"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."

The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.

"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.

You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.

"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.

"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...

You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.

Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....

You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.

"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.

Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.

"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."

Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.

While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.

"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.

Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.

"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.

"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."

"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.

Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.

"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.

"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.

"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.

"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.

Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."

"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.

He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."

"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.

Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."

You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.

"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."

"Have another one!" You beam.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.

He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."

Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.

That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.

Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...

Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.

She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...

Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.

Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.

You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.

"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"

"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.

Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.

"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...

Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.

"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.

"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.

He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.

You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...

No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...

You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...

Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..

He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...

You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...

-----

Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!

Pt 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #tension #fem reader #Spotify

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ellawrites-if · 1 year

Text

Development blog for the upcoming IF: The Whisper in the Mist. This IF is based on Pacific Rim media (with a focus on the 2013 film).

Asks are welcome (including explicit asks).

Rated 18+ for explicit language, unhealthy coping methods, dark humour, mental health issues, character death, sexual content (optional), violence, blood, gore, mutilation and body horror, and murder and attempted murder. Will be updated as needed.

Setting: Tsing Yi Island, Hong Kong (with futuristic elements).

Other IF account: @kalorphic

When I was a kid, whenever I'd feel small or lonely...I'd look up at the stars and wonder if there was life up there. Turns out I was looking in the wrong direction.

When alien life entered our world it was from deep beneath the Pacific Ocean. A fissure between two tectonic plates. A portal between dimensions.

They called it the Breach.

- Raleigh Beckett (Pacific Rim).

It’s funny how quickly things can change.

One minute you’re on top of the world, then the next, your world is crumbling down around you…

Five years ago, you and your drift partner had the highest success rates of any Jaeger pilots. Now, one horrific tragedy and a hasty promotion later, you’re pushing pencils thousands of miles away from the place you called home.

That is, until a Kaiju with stealth abilities like nothing that’s ever been seen before crawls out of the Breach.

Recalled back into service, you’re forced to team up with your once rival under the command of your former drift partner, and the advice of two scientists who seem more interested in the Kaiju’s than your safety. All while someone with more money than sense attempts to undermine you at every turn.

With everything seemingly against you, will you take up the mantle of hero once more or will you let the darkness plaguing your mind consume you?

Customisable MC (including name, pronouns, appearance, and identity). Personality is semi-set (MC uses humour and sarcasm as a coping method for their trauma) for a majority of the time, however there will be chances for character development and therefore more personality choices.

Pilot a Jaeger, fight Kaiju’s, and keep the world safe all while battling your own demons.

Five characters are available to romance. Two are only romanceable in a (triad) poly.

Found family.

RO PoVs.

Befriend (and potentially adopt) a baby Kaiju. Also give your dog lots of love.

Ciaran O’Doherty [M/F] - Hot-tempered and viciously in denial of the love they have for you that has only seemed to grow in your absence, Ciaran is your newly assigned drift partner and self-proclaimed rival. [PROFILE].

Killian Zhao [M/F] - Once a talented pilot and your former drift partner, Killian is now your formidable and highly respected commanding officer with a soft spot reserved just for you. [PROFILE].

Brin Kazlauskas [M/F/NB] - Waspish, fastidious, and someone that no one wants to be on the wrong side of, Brin is a K-Science officer with a wicked protective streak towards Zai and you . Only romanceable in a poly with Zai. [PROFILE].

Zai Oumarou [M/F/NB] - Despite a somewhat anxious disposition around those xe doesn’t know, Zai is a K-Science officer with a lot of enthusiasm and a deep curiosity towards Kaiju. Only romanceable in a poly with Brin. [PROFILE].

Ajax Nikolaou [M!NB/F!NB] - With a twisted determination to be a giant pain in your ass, Ajax is the ruthless CEO of Nikolaou Industries, a company that seeks to make the Pan Pacific Defense Corps completely redundant. [PROFILE].

Ferelith [F] - The baby Kaiju with a sweet character that was rescued by Zai, Ferelith loves cuddles, Lord of the Rings (according to Zai), and munching on Brin’s lab coat.

#the whisper in the mist #interactive fiction #if wip #if game #interactive novel #interactive game #excuse the bad synopsis #i have no one to blame but myself

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chvnnie · 9 months

Text

here. take this dad chan.

week seven

Something feels…off.

The bathroom is oddly dim. A light flickers above the mirror, dull enough that it doesn’t bother you but definitely noticeable. Your legs are bouncing, belt buckle blending in with the cheers of the crowd. Five minutes until they go out. Ninety seconds until you know.

Is this something that can wait until the end of the show?

Tucking the evidence in your jacket pocket, you exit the bathroom. Into the nearly empty waiting room — only your husband and Changbin left behind. He’s fixing his friend’s ear piece, Chan’s head tilted to the left to give him better access.

“Hey!” He says with a smile when he sees you, reaching out. His hands are a little shaky; they always are when they’re about to preform. The gold wedding band catches the light, sparkling under it.

It reassures you. This is what is supposed to happen right? First comes love, then comes marriage.

Some would say step three is way overdue.

You grab his hands, moving into his body to give him the hug he desires. Chan’s arms are firm around your body, peppering kisses along the side of your face—

“Stop moving.”

Chan smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Bin.” He moves his head back into position. “How are you feeling, love? You still look a little pale.”

Now would be a good time to tell him. Your gut is screaming to do it now, to get it over with before the word vomit comes out like every other meal you’ve had lately. Do it. Do it before he walks away, tell him now—

“There we go.” The younger man claps your husband’s shoulders, giving him a light shake before stepping away. “All ready?”

“Yeah, give me a second.” His hands fall to your waist, pulling you in for a proper hug now that he’s not Changbin’s doll. You melt into his touch, the jewels from his outfit rubbing against your skin. It feels nice.

You almost feel guilty, the weight of everything about to crush you.

“Hey.” Chan says softly, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back. His expression is so soft, so gentle. The man you’re madly in love with looking at you with beautiful stars. The trust unending in his dark eyes. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

Now. Now tell him now. Tell him before he’s busy for three hours, unreachable as you stew in your new reality. Now. Tell him now—

“Nothing.” You say with a smile, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “I’m okay.”

If he doesn’t believe you, you can’t really tell. The adrenaline of the show running through him already, his mind in a million different places.

“Come help me change at the ment?”

This really isn’t something that can wait.

“Yeah, of course.”

But for now, it will have to be.

week ten

In. Out. In. Out.

God, pregnancy cramps are worse than period cramps. Somehow.

You’re curled in the bed, knees pushed up and a hand cradling your stomach. There’s no bump yet, no outward signs yet. Just a bunch of weird pains and feelings that you don’t fully understand. It’s normal, you’re told by your doctor. You’ll get used to it.

That doesn’t make it that fun, though.

Chan said he would be home by now. There’s a comeback on the horizon, so it’s no surprise he was in the studio late tonight. But he promised you when he left that he would be home before you went to bed.

You’ve been a little extra needy lately. Who would have figured?

It’s hard to be upset with him. It’s not like he knows yet — when have you had the time to tell him? Between tours and a comeback and all the other million things he does daily, you haven’t had the chance to bring it up. Besides, it’s not like you’ve told anyone other than your doctor yet. So it’s not like you’re hiding anything from him.

Right?

Your phone buzzes near your head, a photo from your honeymoon lighting up the screen. Chan looked so sweet that day; his skin sun-kissed, curls laced with seawater, making them even more prominent. It’s your favorite picture ever of him. You’ve never seen him happier.

“Hey.” You say groggily into the phone. You tap the speaker button, not bothering to bring it to your ear.

“Hi, my love.” He singsongs into the phone. “I’m sorry it’s late, but I’m getting ready to wrap things up here.”

“It’s okay. When will you be home?”

“Hmm, an hour? Maybe?”

There’s so many things happening in your body. In your mind. And sixty minutes feels like an impossible entirety. Three, two, one and the tears are flowing in earnest. You take a shaky breath, letting the sob that’s been building all day release. You can’t do that, you can’t wait a single second longer.

You need Chan like you need to breathe.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” Your husband sounds so concerned. It’s easy to picture his scrunched face, the little pout of confusion from your sudden outburst. “Why are you—“

“Come home now.” You sob in the phone. “I can’t, Chan, I c-can’t—“

“Okay. Okay, I’m leaving now.” The door slamming in the background proves it. “Is there anything you need—“

“No.” You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands. “J-just need you.”

“I’m coming, love. I promise.”

You pull his pillow into your body, burying your nose into the center of it. He washed his hair before bed last night; the shampoo is still heavy on the silk cover.

In. Out. In. Out. Breathe in smell of oak, finding peace in knowing your comfort will be home soon.

Light pours into the dark room, your husband hurrying over to the bed. You’re facing the edge, still hidden in the pillow though your tears have stopped. Chan crouches by your head, warm fingers peeling your colds open.

“Hi, baby.” He says softly, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m home.”

You peek out from behind the pillow, eyes burning red. Oh, the guilt is painted bright red on his face. He must have ran out of the company building. Sped through the city. Did he even turn the car off before he leaped out of it? Shut the front door?

Chan didn’t stop until he was in front of you. You need him? He’s always right here.

“I’m sorry I’m home so late.” He apologizes, pulling the pillow down a little more. Wanting to see you better. “I know you weren’t—“

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth is open, the words he was going to speak lost in the air. He blinks, head shaking slightly as the weight of your words hit him hard. You’re surprised his balance wasn’t lost. “You—“ his hands loosen their grip a bit, shock making his body run cold. “There’s—you—wait—“

Your lip is wobbling, new tears stinging your eyes. All you can do is nod. Over and over, confirming the question he’s unable to ask.

“You.” He gasps, tears now rolling down his face. A bright smile breaks out, a little laugh sneaking out. “You!”

Chan climbs onto the bed and grabs you, pulling you into his body tightly. Back and forth he rocks you, laughing into your shoulder. It’s unbelievable, exciting, terrifying. All the emotions you were feeling now reflected in your person, who can’t seem to start crying.

“Oh my god.” He says, pulling his head out of your shoulder. His hands cup your face, beaming so brightly at you, you might go blind.

A beanie covers his curls, though a few peek through. The gold earrings catch in the light of the television, though nothing could shine as brightly as his smile. His cheeks must be hurting.

Never mind. This is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

“How far along are you?” Chan asks when he can finally form a sentence, the words coming back to him.

“Ten weeks.” You say, a hand mindlessly going to your stomach. “So not very far.”

He nods, his own hand following. Together, your hands lace over the nonexistent bump. “How big is that?”

It’s such a Chan question, you can’t help but giggle. “The size of a prune.”

“So small.” He mumbles, looking down between your bodies. “What foods have prunes in them?”

You blink. Out of all the things you expected him to say, this was the last on your list. Actually, it didn’t even make the cut. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Well, we should eat something with prunes to celebrate!”

It’s the cutest thing you think you’ve ever heard, your heart swelling as you cup his face. “Should we make something every week? To correlate with the size?”

The idea hadn’t even crossed his mind. You can see it in the way his eyes widen, lips parting in a bit of shock. “That’s a great idea.”

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #chan fluff #dad!skz #dad chan #dad bang chan

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emithecharmer · 1 year

Text

Opposites Attract

Friend to lovers, teasing, kissing, fluffy, sorry for any mistakes!

"Stop making that face." You groaned but smiled nonetheless as you looked at your friend, Minho.

"What face am I making now?" You asked.

"I don't know, but it's weird."

"You're weird."

"Nice comeback." He smirked as you rolled your eyes, choosing to focus on the shops all around you.

"Ooh, look a bookstore! Let's go in!" He hummed as he opened the door and held it open, acting like it was heavy so you'd walk faster.

He watched as you went through the books, every few minutes you'd pick up one, read the description and put it back, only a select few would you actually put in your bag.

You finally took notice of him softly smiling at you and turned to him.

"Stop making that face." You said plainly, watching his lip curl up slightly as he wagged his finger at you.

"Using my words against me, clever girl." You smiled at the compliment, shrugging your shoulders as if it didn't phase you.

"I know."

"Why would you get books you already read?" Minho asked you, as you both waited on your coffees.

"Because I like them, and I didn't have my own copy." You said, stacking the books and putting them back into you bag right as the coffees arrived.

"I'll never understand how you can drink those." You said, watching as he sipped his Americano.

"I could say the same to you." He shot back, pointing to your caramel macchiato.

The thing was, absolutely no one knew how you two were friends. They said opposites attract, but..there had to be a limit, no? You and Minho had nothing in common, except your banter.

"What color should I dye my hair for our new comeback?"

"Why are ya'll coming back already? You never even left." Minho snorted at that before letting out a full laugh.

"Neon green." He rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.

"Absolutely not, I don't even think Hyunjin could pull that off." He said.

"What? You could pull anything off." You said, sipping you drink. Minho tilted his head with a teasing smile.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, ooh, maybe you could do that blue, the dark one, or maybe black-wait not black." He smiled as you corrected yourself.

"What movie?" Minho asked, looking up at you from where he was crouched on the ground.

"My Neighbor Totoro!" You cheered.

"Of course." He said, sighing good-naturedly.

"Aww, it's so cute how he gives her the umbrella! Awwe!" Minho smiled at you, he watched your eyes light up whenever Totoro came onscreen, and how your hands would shake with excitement. He didn't notice he was staring until you turned to him and blinked.

"Why're you looking at me like that, weirdo." You smiled, pretending to poke his eyes with your fingers.

"What?" He shook slightly, almost as he was waking up from a daze.

"You looked like a lovesick puppy." You teased.

"I think I am."

"Huh?" You were confused, making him smile.

"Seungmin's the puppy, definitely, but I'm lovesick."

"Poor thing." You teased, still not exactly getting where he was going with this.

"I think I'm in love with you." He said, more talking to himself than to you.

"You think?" You asked quietly.

"Well no, I know I am. I guess that's just my first time actually admitting it." He said, turning to you. He noticed your had tears in your eyes, making him chuckle softly.

"Don't cry, don't make this super emotional." He teased as he cupped your face.

"I'll make it as emotional as I want, the guy I've liked for a year and a half just told me he loves me."

"A year..and a half.." Minho repeated quietly, looking down to his bedsheets.

"When we went to Lotte World." You said.

"Same!" That was the most excited you'd ever seen him, he jumped up slightly at the revelation that you both had started to like eachother in the same day.

"Min?" He smiled at the nickname and looked up at you, only to be surprised when you kissed him softly. When you both pulled away, it was you who noticed tears in his eyes.

"Heyy, Min, don't make this super emotional." You teased, only for him to bring you in for another kiss.

"I'll make it as emotional as I want." He replied.

#skz #skz imagines #skz bang chan #skz felix #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz minho #skz fluff #skz i.n #skz seungmin #skz han #stray kids #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #lee know x you

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evilhorse · 2 years

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Superboy and the Legion of Suoer-Heroes #229

#superboy and the legion of super heroes #superboy #clark kent #kal el #dark circle #legion of super heroes #dawnstar #timber wolf #brin londo #wildfire #drake burroughs #the future #30th century #mike grell #dc comics #comics #70s comics #bronze age comics

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notellum · 6 months

Text

— “in this world, monsters wear human faces. you should be grateful i’m the kind of devil who doesn’t hide who she is.”

BIO.

it is often said that those who cross nitara are never heard from again. hardened from past experiences, she’s spent her life building a reputation as one of the most powerful leaders of the city. as one of the sevenfold, the top seven most influential people in notellum, she is either frequently sought out or heavily avoided. commoners loathe her, criminals love her; the smartest people have no opinion.

while her skills with a knife and cut-throat ways of persuasion paint her as a heartless soul, her behaviour towards those she cares about says more than any front she hides behind—you would know. her secret smiles are worth their weight in gold, her home-cooked meals for when you drop by after a long day's travel even more. over the years, your alliance has let you inside the walls of one of the most guarded people in notellum—and nitara constantly reminds you of this privilege. as long as you don’t betray her, she will continue to be your greatest ally.

APPEARANCE.

nitara has warm brown skin and dark brown eyes. she has thick and glossy black hair, layered with side bangs and reaching about mid-torso. she often wears it down, but when frustrated or going out, she ties it into a loose low bun. she stands at 5’10.

nitara is a pansexual and transgender woman. the closest ethnicity to describe her would be indian.

OTHER INFORMATION.

age: 25

birth realm: notellum.

birthday: june 30th [cancer].

allies: nyx [the owner], pitch [the observer], atlas [the isolated], brin [the ghost].

enemies: kahlys [the harbinger], rikaya [the queen].

powers: illusion.

MBTI: infp [mediator].

#intros #char: nitara #ink\void duology #twine game #interactive fiction

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thomasisaslut · 6 months

Text

Eris Vanserra x Azriel Shadowsinger

Mutual Masturbation — KTober

Word Count: 1.5k

Includes: Mutual Masturbation, Mating Bonds, Nipple Play, Anal, Anal Fingering, Inappropriate use of Azriel’s shadows, Desk-Sex, Dom/Sub.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50896792

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1390441949-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥-𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐬-𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚-𝐱

Being a High Lord was much harder than Eris has ever expected, currently, he was crammed at his desk with mounds of paperwork surrounding him. There were piles upon the desk, beside it, in front, everywhere.

Eris sighed and lent back in his stiff, maroon chair—it was more like a tiny throne than anything—as he scanned another letter, this one was from the High Lord of the Summer Court—Tarquin. Eris has learned to like him, after forming an alliance between the Day, Night, and Autumn Court he wanted in, so, naturally he was going to talk to him—Eris just didn’t expect to enjoy the conversations.

Feyre was right, he was easily lovable.

He chuckles at the memory of Rhysand brooding in jealousy from the dark-skinned male, it truly was a funny sight to see him so riled—even if he didn’t like the glares he got from him in the process.

“What are you thinking about?” Azriel’s voice purred through his head, Eris feels some of his shadows swirling around his ankles.

“Oh nothing.” Eris replies back mentally, sending a smiling expression down the bond.

“Mmm… are you sure? I heard Tarquin and Rhys’ name quite a lot, little fox.” Azriel almost sounded jealous, it causes Eris to laugh again. “Something funny?”

“No, just in a good mood.” Eris lies, it was easily seen through—well—read through?

“Liar.” Azriel shoots him an image of him rolling his eyes.

Eris watches as the shadows crawl up his legs, creeping from his ankles to his thighs before tightly squeezed them.

“I am.” Eris smirks. “What are your little shadows doing?” He asks through the mating bond.

“Waiting.” Azriel growls, it sends a tingle down Eris’ spine.

“For what, spymaster?” Eris replied.

“You.”

The shadows around his thighs grip tighter by the sound of Azriel’s voice, as if his hands were there—leaving deep marks on Eris’ pale skin. He can’t help but feel aroused.

“Me? For what purpose?” Eris teases.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” Eris sends a vulgar gesture down the bond—imagining to be thrusting Azriel’s cock with his hand.

It takes a moment before Azriel retorts. “That is exactly why.”

Eris could feel Azriel’s own arousal through the bond, he could feel the way his cock throbbed before fulling becoming erect.

“Do you need me, Az?”

“No. You need me.” He groans down the bond.

In a second, the shadows that were once around Eris’ thighs move higher, now slowly stroking his tenting cock—teasingly.

“Az.” Eris whimpers down the bond, sending an image of what he wants to happen—Eris’ hands free, the only clothes on being his laurel wreath-like crown, the shadows stroking his cock whilst some are buried deep in his hot core.

“Oh? That’s what you want, little fox?” Azriel smirks on the other side of the mating bond. “Then you shall have it.”

His thighs tremble as the shadows strip off his clothes, slowly, teasingly. His shoes are removed first, then his pants and boxers. The dark shadows work diligently—quickly stripping Eris of all of his clothes but his High Lord crown.

“Beautiful.” Azriel whispers through the bond. “Finger yourself or else you get no preparation.”

“I don’t have oil in my office, Shadowsinger.” Eris sends an image of him rolling his eyes.

“Then make some.”

Eris sighs but instantly understands what Azriel means, they have used spit as lube before—now would be no different.

Slowly, Eris brings his index and middle to his mouth, sucking on them until they’re drenched in his saliva, he then brings the two fingers to his rear—Azriel’s shadows guiding his hand to his hole—before sliding them in. Eris moans.

“Fucking perfect, all on display.” Azriel purrs. “And just for me, your mate.”

“Y-Yes…” Eris begins to thrust his fingers in and out of his needy hole. “Just for you, Az.” He sends down the bond.

“Good.”

It takes a few more minutes of Eris fingering himself before Azriel finally states he’s ready. Eris withdraws his hand, slowly placing it on the desk before him—not caring that he knocked over all of the paperwork on his desk.

The shadows move him onto his back, laying him against the dark, hardwood table before they wrap around his cock, they give it a few experimental strokes before more form around his ass.

Gently, the shadows slide in, slowly thrusting along the way.

“Look at yourself, getting fucked by my shadows…” Eris gets sent an image of Azriel stroking his painfully erect cock, the pink tip leaking with pre as he fists his member. “If I was there, little fox, I’m afraid your entire army would know their High Lord likes to get fucked by Illyrian warriors.”

“M-My whole army?” Even with the mind communication Eris can’t help but stutter over words as the shadows fucking his hole move faster, harder.

“They would know who you belong to, listen to, get fucked and filled by.” Azriel moans through the bond.

“Then come here…” Eris’ breath hitches as more shadows form, now teasing his hardened nubs, pulling and squeezing his nipples. “And show them.”

“I will right before I climax, I’m afraid if I don’t see you I will break this damn mountain.”

“You’re at the c-cabin?” Eris moans, the shadows deep inside his rear begin to widen, stretching him open but making sure to make themself bigger than Azriel’s cock—teasing him. Not only that, but they also make sure to brush right past his prostate.

“They hosted some party, I wanted no part of it. Plus, my little fox would’ve been drowning in paperwork by now.” Azriel sends another mental image of his twitching cock, this only makes the building feeling—the begging to cum—build itself higher.

“Then why aren’t you here already?” The ginger whines through the bond, needing to feel the fullness of the others hard cock.

“I’m afraid I still have duties, Eris.” Azriel replied simply, plainly. Much to dry for someone who is fucking their mate over a desk with his shadows.

“Do them after, I demand your presence.”

“Demand?” Azriel smirks.

“As your allied High Lord, yes. Now g-get here before I put you on a sex ban.” Eris scoffs but it quickly fades into a moan as the shadows tease his nipples again, stroking his cock faster.

There is no reply, Eris gets worried for a second—and gets extra worried when the shadows disappear—leaving him wanting and alone. Well, until he saw his mate looming over him.

“A sex ban?” Azriel grabs Eris’ nude hips and tugs him down the desk, his ass now completely off the rough, wood surface. “You couldn’t go a day without it, you get to cockdrunk after all.” The dark headed man smirks before thrusting himself fully in—hitting Eris’ prostate directly.

“Azriel!” He shouts, and as promised, it was loud enough for the guards on duty to hear.

“What, little fox? You were all talk before…” He begins to thrust. “What happened to that?”

“Need… need to cum!” Eris begs, the overstimulation getting to him as some shadows creep back onto his still hardened nipples—beginning to tease and squeeze them once more.

“Answer me first, Eris.” Azriel doesn’t stop his movements for a second, his cock twitching deep inside of his hole.

“You… you showed up! Only…” Eris moans, a kiss placed on his neck before it was harshly bitten, new found hickeys forming. “Only talk…”

“Yeah, I know.” Azriel smirks cockily before smashing their lips together, biting his bottom lip and pulling it down before jamming his tongue into his mates mouth, the two dance before slowly blending.

Azriel pulls back to resume his assault on Eris’ neck, littering the pale skin with deep, dark love bites.

“Love you… Az.” Eris whimpers as he finishes, his cum shooting out of his cock and landing on his stomach.

“I love you too, little fox.” Azriels whispers wnd kisses under his ear, his thrusts don’t stop—rather, encouraged by Eris’ orgasm.

Soon, Azriel releases his load deep inside of Eris, it leaks out of his rear and onto the floor beneath the two of them. Azriel slides out, slowly and delicately before kissing Eris.

“Let us rest? I’m sure you’ll want to prepare yourself for the guards bickering.” Azriel smiles and hoists Eris up into his strong, Illyrian arms.

Eris only nods in agreement, Azriel’s previous statement about being cockdrunk all too accurate.

“Dickhead.” Eris grumbles.

“Only for you, little fox.” Azriel chirps back with a kiss to the gingers temple. “Sleep.” He smiles as he lays his mate down on the bed.

Azriel cradles Eris close to his chest, his wings around the two of them like shields to the world. He tugs up the maroon blanket before following suit, drifting off into sleep. And for the first time in a while, Azriel felt as if he was safe.

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breannasfluff · 2 months

Text

Eldritch Ache - 2

“Trades are so useful. We both get something we want, right?”

A cautious nod. “You do have wormgrass, right?”

Brin laughs and it’s a little too sharp at the edges. “Oh, don’t worry, Link, I’ve got everything you need.”

Hyrule stiffens. “I never told you my name was Link.”

“Hyrule, I know. Silly nickname. But I don’t care what you call yourself, just who you are.” Brin’s grin is stretching a little too wide. It’s reminiscent of Wild with his too-sharp teeth.

The static sharpens into a throb, sinking under his skin and pressing heat to each vein. There’s something wrong here, something unnatural. Dangerous.

Hyrule tries to take another step back, only to find his feet rooted to the ground.

“Don’t worry,” Brin says, still smiling. “We all know who the true monster is and it’s not me.”

Does he mean…Wild? Where is the champion? He needs to warn him—

Hot breath touches his ear. “You cannot have him.” Wild’s voice is the hiss of a snake ready to strike.

“He’s not yours. He belonged to the Dark Lord long before this.”

Hyrule’s stomach drops. Ganon. Not only is he in danger, but everyone else in the Chain is for being near him.

Brin reaches forward and touches a nail to the back of Hyrule’s hand. It’s sharp; filed to a wicked point. It dimples his skin as it presses down. “One drop, you see? And he’s ours.”

#eldritch wild #eldritch ache #lu wild #lu hyrule #linked universe #linkeduniverse #breannasfluff #my writing

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azulashengrottospiano · 8 months

Note

listen I don't care about anything else but more animal mers like azul and the tweets glow I don't care of their actual animal counterparts don't they do because they are the specialist little guys and I love them alot

anyways brins apart of the glow in the dark squad and all her lil freckles glow in the dark

bioluminescent merpeople is my blood

#amari <3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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No Time This Time 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (older [~50s] reader)

Character: Tony Stark

Notes: Alright. Tony is growing on me but only because he’s a shit stirrer.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like Tony loves his own voice. Take care. 💖

"Please clear the week. Reschedule my meetings," you toss a pair of unworn sandals into your suitcase, your phone on the bed next to it.

"Yes, ma'am," Halton answers from the speaker.

"I did a quick sweep, there shouldn't be anything urgent. As it were, we will not be accepting any new clients until the end of the month."

He acquiesces again as you open a drawer and sift through, searching for a swimsuit. You can barely recall the last time you needed one.

"You can file it as paid vacation," you inform him.

"Thank you," he says, the smile obvious in his tone.

"Well, off you go. I don't want to hear from you again unless it's an emergency," you find a black bikini with the tags still on.

"Got it."

"Great, have a good day," you drop the suit in the bag and tap the screen, ending the call.

Almost as soon as the line is dead, another incoming call pops up. Your morning has been effectively avoiding the series of attempts from both Samia and your mother. You've set your voicemail and your automatic replies, you are out of office and soon to be out of the country.

It's as spontaneous as you've ever been. You're a planner. You don't just hop on the next plane out but that's exactly what you're doing.

Your father was the same way. When he was practicing, he never took a vacation. And what did that get him? A heart attack. Several, actually. There will never be a better time to get away or a better reason.

No, you won't give Stark that much credit. It's not just him, it's you. You're old enough, you need to start doing things just for you.

Another call. Your mother has never been known as subtle. Or to take a hint. Sometimes even when you spell it out, she refuses to understand.

So be it. You need a moment to breathe before you relent. You need a second wind before you face the task that is your family and your past. More so, you need to be far from New York.

👜

You cannot claim to be unfamiliar with decadence. It is a privilege you treasure but never one you place as requisite. You can still admire luxury and you would define the resort as nothing less than.

Your room has a broad balcony that overlooks the Italian coast, the sun beats down on the sparkling sea, and illuminates the space, shadowing intricate patterns carved in wood. The decor speaks of an old world drawn into the present. Refined and elegant.

You wear a caftan down to the shore and claim your reserved seat among the row of vacationers. You strip off the sheer layer and rub in suncreen before reclining beneath the shade of a broad umbrella. You open your book and dive into the plot, forgetting the hot sands and the stolid air.

You're still not used to it. It's as if you're on a whole new planet. The first day saw you fighting not to check your phone or delve into your work email. You fought the urge to cling to routine and won. Your determination has ever been a talent.

After twelve, you have your first cocktail. A simple gin drink with lime. You let it seep in and ease you back into your fictional escape. An attendant brings you a fruit cocktail and some pastries not long after.

It's paradise and you value it dearly. You hadn't realised how sorely you need this.

As you pack up, balmy and slightly sleepy from the sun, a speck flits across the sky. You look up but cannot place the phenomenon before it disappears. Your imagination must've been sparked by the mixture of heat and alcohol.

You return to your room and enjoy a dinner of handmade gnocchi and wine sauce. The more you indulge, the harder you know it will be to go back to the city. Your peace is underlined by a strand of wistfulness.

Several days trickle by in the same vein of lethargy. You have no appointments, no calls, no obligations besides the beach, a cocktail, and a book. It’s as if you are an entirely different person, as if you’ve taken on someone else’s life entirely. The stuffy overworked lawyer is still trapped in New York with her leeching family and arrogant clients.

A few too many mojitos have you sprawled on the sofa. The open balcony lets in the warm dusk breeze and lulls you deeper into drowsiness. The weight of the alcohol shrouds your body, sweeping you up in a swirling slumber that makes you dizzy.

The soft whisk of metal doors shut and you look over as a button clicks beneath the push of a finger. You follow the arm, the dark fabric of a tailored jacket, to the familiar face. You sneer and take a step back, the elevator tipping with your movement. You stumble and fall against the wall.

He laughs. A menacing laugh that echoes all around you and adds to the disorienting skew of your subconscious. You brace the metal rail against the wall and suddenly, you’re falling back, plummeting through open air.

Bright flashes of white appear above you as you flail helplessly. The laughter is muffled but deep. You’re scooped up in a hard metal embrace, the red and gold mask taunting you as you’re carried through the open sky.

The metal retracts and reveals your saviour. Not who you expect. It isn’t Tony but Carlisle, mocking you with that slanted grin you once thought was charming. He winks and lets you go, letting you fall like a stone through water.

You spin and face the looming ground, hurtling faster and faster towards you. You let out a shrill scream and jolt awake as it cuts through to reality. You’re out of breath as you sit up, nearly rolling off the couch as the sharp noise continues. It isn’t you, but your phone, shrieking at you.

You stagger to get to your feet. You shiver, still in only your bikini, and the phone goes silent. You search around the dim room, the sounds of the ocean crashing through the open doors.

Your cell lights up again and you snatch it from the wooden tabletop. You drag your finger across the screen, only vaguely reading the name on the display; Samia. You answer with a croak, holding back a hiccup.

“About time!” She sounds like your mother with her abrupt greeting, “I’ve been calling you all day. Don’t you understand it’s a fucking emergency?”

“Samia,” you say dully, bracing your forehead, “shhhhh,” you amble around and sit on the sofa, “why are you yelling?”

“Are you drunk?” She accuses.

“I’m on vacation–”

“Yes, we know, but not all of us just run away from our problems–”

You snort. Loud. You devolve into sardonic laughter and click your tongue loudly.

“Don’t lecture me on running away from responsibility, Sam, don’t,” you warn, “tell me what it is. Let’s cut out the rest.”

She gives a dramatic heave, “mom’s in the hospital.”

“What?” You sit forward.

“She fell. This morning. I… I was looking at venues, I couldn’t be there.”

“Fuck!” You exclaim without filter, “Samia… have you seen her?”

“Mmm, I really wanted to but Carlisle–”

“Oh,” you snarl, “Carlisle!” You growl as you ball your hand to a tight fist, “I’ll get a flight.”

“I’m going in the morning, I prom–”

You hang up and throw your phone onto the narrow table before you. You hang your head, cradling it as you fear it might split in two. Were you really stupid enough to think you could ever catch a break?

👜

The redeye has you back in the city by noon. You fall into the rush of the city naturally, hailing a cab and collecting yourself in the back seat. You tip the driver as he idles outside the hospital and you hop out, rolling suitcase in tow as you march through the front doors.

It takes another hour to be admitted to your mother’s room. You don’t expect a warm welcome. You’re not entirely sure what to expect as you enter her private room. The nurse informs you before she lets you in that your mother is awake. That must be good.

The entire space is decorated in bouquets of flowers. You didn’t know your mother would have that many wellwishers. You leave your bag by the door as you give a long consideration to the red roses nearest you.

“Finally, you decide to show up,” she yaps at you.

“Flights from Italy are not quick,” you reproach, “I came as quickly as I could.”

“You wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

You repress your frustration, “I left it in my room. I’m sorry, mother.”

“Selfish, as always.”

You swallow tightly. Selfish. You cut short your first vacation since your honeymoon to come make sure she was alright. Even after calling and being assured by the staff that it was luckily only a fall. She hadn’t even broken her hip.

“Lovely flowers,” you remark as you walk along the row of vases.

“Oh, isn’t it so pretty? Mr. Stark is so generous–”

“Stark?” You spin on your heel, “what do you mean?”

“Well, of course, he heard that my daughters were both absent and he had to be here. Samia is so busy so she called him just to be sure that I wasn’t alone.”

“She called him. Why would she do that?”

“Oh, he’s been most helpful with the wedding. He’s let her have his Tower for her party and he’s been helping with all sorts of details. He referred her to a wonderful designer for her dress, too. Ah, and he’s invited Carlisle to some tournament? I think, golf or the like–”

“That makes no sense,” you sniff, “why is Tony Stark… doing all that?”

“Perhaps he sees a lonely old woman who’s been neglected by her only children,” she bemoans.

You know you won’t get the answer from her. She’s drunk the fresh-ade. She is entirely swindled by the overpaid crook.

“So, where’s Samia, then? She told me she was coming this morning.”

“She’s on her way, I’m sure. The city, traffic.”

You could scream. You could break her hip yourself. She would excuse Samia for not making it across the city but would remand you for not magically teleporting from across the globe.

“Well, I’m not waiting on her. I think we have something to discuss.”

“Is it lunch? I am rather hungry and this hospital food, it does not agree with me,” she touches her stomach, “Mr. Stark was kind enough to come for dinner last night but I hate to trouble him further.”

“That can wait. Mother, we are hiring you a caregiver.”

“A caregiver? I am not helpless.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying. But it would bring peace of mind if you had someone around when me and Samia are not. It wouldn’t be forever but given your fall, you will need supervision.”

“Oh, so you can take time to go traipsing across the world but you can’t take any for me?”

You cross your arms and sigh. You stare at her blankly.

“It’s not an argument, it’s not a negotiation. It is how it will be. You are getting a nurse, at least until the physiotherapist clears you. That’s that.”

She scoffs, “ugh, you always did have the makings of a lawyer, you know that?”

“Thank you,” you retort harshly, “that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, lord, what is up your behind? You’ve always been trite but you’ve never like this.”

“Mother, realise that you are not the only one with hardships, yes? I have to make sure you are well, which is what I am doing. I have attend the wedding of the husband who cheated on me, and I have to deal with the that is—” You stop yourself before you can say his name, “I have work. I have responsibilities and I hold to them. And it will never be enough.”

You wave her off and go back to the door, “I will order you lunch, we will eat it together, and we will hope that Samia for once comes through and shows up.”

You leave the room before you can combust. You stand in the hall, searching through your phone for somewhere nearby, or somewhere to order from. You fight to keep from shaking as you read the screen; get yourself together.

👜

Your vacation is a quickly fading memory as you fall back into the city life. You make several calls around in search of an appropriate homecare worker for your mother. Amid that, you return to office and work on your own to catch up. Halton is away but you’ll let him enjoy the last of his days off.

Between all that, you are faced with the daunting sight of an unexpected delivery. The clear glass box with the bouquet of pure white roses. It’s all very elaborate and exhausting. You flick back the silver clasp and lift the lid. Inside is a crystal rose on a golden stem, a date etched into the metal.

It’s an invite to your sister’s wedding and you are unsurprised by the tackiness of the overdone gesture. Beneath the ornament you would rather smash to bits, is a triarch that folds out to reveal the details and how to RSVP. You roll your eyes and blow out a breath.

A vineyard. Suiting. You replace the pieces in the box and leave the bouquet where it is. You type in the venue to Google. You nearly choke. Brick and Blossom Vino recently acquired by Stark Industries. How convenient.

It’s no coincidence. Stark has no business in wine or vineyard or event planning. It is not an advantageous deal, it is a direct statement. He may not be there in your face but he is haunting you nonetheless. Taunting you.

Let him waste his efforts. You will not be affected.

A knock comes at your office door. Another delivery. You sign and accepted the second bouquet. This one small and admittedly aesthetically pleasing. The small wooden box holds a cluster of pink tulips and baby’s breath. There’s a ribbon around it, attached to a simple card. It doesn’t really suggest Stark handiwork.

You take the envelope and unfold it. You smile as you see only the embossed bumps of braille within. Oh.

You take the card to your desk and grab your phone. You pull up Matt’s number and put him on speaker as you wait for an answer.

“Hey,” his voice comes amidst the honking of traffic and shuffle of the street.

“So, uh, how exactly am I supposed to read this card?”

“Ha, well, I could show you,” he offers, “if you’re free for dinner.”

“Hmm, well, I suppose I could clear my schedule,” you hum.

“Wow, really?”

“Sure,” you chew your lip and catch the unusual pinch, unclenching your teeth and clearing your throat, “I could use a drink.”

“Hopefully, this one doesn’t end up in some jerk’s face,” he chortles, “I’ll pick you up.”

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #mcu #marvel #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #no time this time #avengers #iron man

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nikolliver · 3 months

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"I want to talk with my papa."

A one shot of my Geppetto AU.

Sun really wants to know more about Karma's family.

Giggles echoing through the dark stage. The nightlights from the paper structures make the surroundings barely visible, yet visible enough for you to not trip over.

The kid hops like a rabbit hiding behind a cutout of a tower. Red lights were following their steps passing by the cutout, leaving the sound of bells ringing behind.

Silence.

The child covers their mouth unsuccessfully holding their giggles at the sound of metal clicks. The sounds go up. They hesitate for a second, but gives themselves to temptation and peeks from the cutout. Their sight only founds a dark empty crowd of chairs and tables.

Bells ring right above their head among with low giggles.

Before the kid could react, large metal hands wrap their torso lifting up their body up to the air taking their feet out of the ground.

"HOY- HEEEY!!" The kid squeaks as they are being trapped in the arms of the blue giggling metal jester. The hold is firm, not too tight, tight enough to give a sense of security for the kid pressed against its chest.

"Moon! The hook is cheating!!" The kid hisses. Moon answers the child's complain with more giggles.

They both swing in the air, Moon holds the child carefully with a hand wrapped around their whole torso as he "swims" in the air with his other arm. They slowly land to the wooden like floor of the stage.

The kid is safely left to their feet on the ground. The hook leaves from Moon's back and disappears in the darkness above them.

The red lights from Moon's eyes illuminate the child from head to foot. Even crouched, Moon still towers over the small kid. It crouches even more onto the kid's eye level.

"Bad hider Karma." Moon giggles at Karma among the spins of his faceplate clicking.

Karma pouts and puffs up their chest at the Moon's jest. "I want rematch!!" The child barks as they poke Moon's faceplate.

Karma is granted with silence and stillness from Moon as reaction.

The red lights transition from red to light blue. Moon tilts his head to the sides, which Karma just mimics.

Moon fakes a sigh from his voice box.

"Another day." He mumbles as he stood at his feet, his arms limp as he leans a bit on his back. "Geppetto is finishing talking with your Nana."

As Moon speaks, the lights of the stage slowly turn through dim lights to bright. Karma looks up to the spotlights above and up to Moon.

Moon's color scheme transitioning to warmer colors. The starts from his pants changing to yellow and red stripes, his faceplate spins as he hat hides from his head. Sun beams growing at his head.

"Your grandma will take you to that family party, don't you remember?" Sun leans down to Karma with hands on his hips. "You have been chirping about it for WEEKS to us and how excited you were to see your cousins again!" His beams jump with his words and he spins his faceplate.

"Ah yeah... I almost forgot." Karma follows Sun walking to the edge of the stage, he steps down from it like a stair step due to his towering height.

Sun spins his torso as he blocks Karma from walking forward with his hands. He offers his hands to Karma so he could pick them up if they wished. Karma raises their arms in a T-pose and Sun carefully wraps his large hands around Karma's waist, lifting them from the stage and gently brings Karma to the ground.

"Speaking of "family"..." Sun ponders for a moment. He spins on his toes like a ballerina to a near blue playmat and graciously sits down crossing his legs. "Why don't you tell me more about your family? We still have some minutes!" Sun rests his elbows on his legs and his chin on his hands, tilting his head to the side while his blue painted eyes lock right into Karma.

"But... But why?" Karma raises an eyebrow.

Sun freezes for a mere second. "Well... We've been friends for soooo looooong and we never had the chance to get to know each other better besides our little games after our performances." Sun whimpers, bringing his hand above his forehead as he leans back like the drama queen he is. He peeks through his hand to look at a little confused Karma. "We talk about how our life is here at the theater and the pizzaplex, so is only fair for you to share a little bit of your life too..." Sun walks his fingers through the playmat, spinning his faceplate. "... Unless you don't want to share it, which is totally alright." His faceplate stops upside down to Karma.

The kid blinks as the yellow jester taps the playmat in front of him. "...okay." Karma shrugs as they walk towards the playmat and sits in front of Sun.

"First things first!" Sun announced joyfully as he spins his head. He mimics to open a notebook, adjusting his imaginary glasses with a pen (or pencil). "Let's start simple, who do you live with?" He questions as he bounces to the sides.

"Uhhm... My Nana and my dad." Karma responds while reaching the tips of their toes. "I had a fish, but it died last year." They added.

"Rest in fish..." Sun fakes a note. Karma holds a snicker at Sun's joke. "Do you enjoy living with them?" He leans over to the child.

"Yeah, I do." Karma holds their feet. "My nana is very nice, she makes my hair the way I like, her food is good and she takes me to cool places! Like the Pizzaplex!" They swing back and forth holding their feet.

Sun nods as he brings a finger behind Karma's head, gently pushing their head forwards. The child lets go from their feet.

"Yes, we are very aware that your grandma is a gentle and kind woman." Sun replied. "You and Geppetto say LOTS about her! Although... How about your father?" He leans over to Karma's eye level. "You mention him but never says a word about him."

Karma pauses staring at Sun. They bring their feet together as they sit straight. A poker face marked on their expression.

The tall bouncing metal jester patiently observed the kid's movements as his fingers drum onto the playmat.

"Does he treat you well?" Sun cuts the short silence as he freezes his bounces with a click, making Karma lean back a bit. His sunny mood changed to serious mood pretty quick.

"...yes." Karma replies. A tone matching with their neutral expression.

Sun analyzed Karma up and down with his eyes for a moment.

There's nothing more threatening than seeing the energetic and hopping stagebot being so still and lack of movement like this.

Sun remains silent for one more second... And leans back to sit straight.

"... You don't seem to have much positive comments about your father." Sun acknowledged as he glances down to Karma.

Karma brings their knees to their chest. "My dad is not a "bad dad", is just..." They pause. "I don't hang around with him that much." The child replies staring to the side.

Sun leans to their eye sight. "He's an absent parent you say?" He questions.

"What's abisen?" Karma tilts their head as Sun's rays shrinks.

"It's "absent"" Sun corrects. "And, absent is... Someone who is not present or that doesn't show up around that much..." He ponders with his fingers, his beams going in and out. "Like when a student doesn't show up for class, they are absent."

"Oh." Karma stared at Sun. "Yeah my dad is ab... Absent. Did I got it?"

"Yes you got it." He remarks. "So... You don't interact with your father often then?" Sun interrogates.

"Yeah he is mostly at work. So he isn't home so much and when he is at home, he's always at the phone talking with people from the job..." Karma mumbled digging the playmat with their finger.

Sun hums at Karma's words. He reaches a hand behind one of Karma's afro puffs and pulls out a bunch of cards.

"And when he's not working?" Sun cuts Karma's surprise with the sudden magic trick, he shuffles the cards in his hands waiting for the kid to answer.

"Ah...." Karma shakes off from the surprise, it's not the first time they had done a magic trick like that. "He... He is serious." They reflect on their thoughts, cautiously catching the right words to describe their father. "... He doesn't talk too much and doesn't play with me."

"Hm... He sounds pretty boring to me." Sun comments as he starts building a card castle. "What about his care towards you?"

"He asks how my day was, but never knows how answer back." Karma grunts. "He talks better with the phone than he does with me." The child crosses their arms. "He keeps insisting to cut my hair even tho I said MANY times that I like my hair like this! It's thanks to my Nana that my hair is still like this." They pat one of their afro puffs.

"That's quite concerning." Sun admires his small castle with clenched hands. "Sounds like he just doesn't know how to communicate with children." Karma slides back from the castle so it doesn't fall. "We could give him some lessons on that matter, I might say we are pretty good at it." Sun taunts. "Atleastbetterthanhimofcourse." He fakes to clear his throat. "And how does he behave with your grandma?"

"...He treats her nicely." The child replies after a pause. "I mean, my Nana is his mama after all. I guess is not a surprise that he treats her well." Karma shrugs.

"That's good to hear." Sun spins his beams. "It would be veeeery bad if a kind and sweet woman like your grandma gets treated badly at her own house..." He crosses his arms, tapping his fingers on his arm.

"They both talk okay. And they don't seem to hate each other." Karma adds. "They don't argue around me, just when she wants to take me to see Mr. Geppetto and you guys here..."

"Now I noticed the lack of mentions of a mother." Sun's eyes lock on Karma's. "... Do you have one?"

Karma zones out for a second.

"... I have." They reply. "My mom and my dad are divorced."

"Oh..." Sun's beams lowered.

"I talk to her through video calls." The child shakes their leg. "She's so different from my dad... I kind of get it why they are not together anymore..."

Sun taps his finger on his leg. "How different?" He tilts his head.

"Like..." Karma gestures with their arms to their sides. "My dad is always thinking about work stuff and doesn't care about having fun. My mom totally supports these things of self 'exepression' and tells me very cool stuff." The child stretches their legs on the playmat. "Kind of like you guys and Geppetto here at the theater." Karma eyes at Sun.

""Expression"." Sun corrects. He holds his chin while spinning his rays. Long seconds of silence. "Y'know... You say that he's not a "bad dad", but these things seem pretty bad to me." Sun tilts to the side.

"I..." Karma stutters. "But... He doesn't hit me and stuff." The child explains.

"Being a bad dad is more than physical violence." Sun toneless answers the unquiet kid. "He trying to keep you in standards that you are not comfortable for you might cause bad results in your future." He taps a card away from the castle, causing it to fall into pieces. "Even I, an ordinary theater animatronic, can recognize a bad parent that I don't even know personally."

Karma gazes at the cards on the playmat. "But I don't even know him that much!" Karma belts. "I mean, I don't hate him. But I don't like him too." The child flench their hands in the air. "I don't know what to think about him..."

"It is admirable your wish to try to understand the other side of the story, sunshine." Sun cuts Karma's speech. "But still, I feel like you shouldn't count that much in this wish." A serious tone from his voice box. "I don't want you to get hurt."

A visible frown at Karma's face.

They hate when Sun starts being like that.

"... You are doing that again, Sun." Karma mutters.

"I only said this because I'm worried about you, unlike your father." Sun clicks.

Karma's eyes shoot wide to Sun's words. Speechless, the child just stares at the jester.

"Please don't look at me like..." Sun interrupts himself. "...what?" Now he wasn't talking to Karma. He turns his head a 180 from Karma. "But I just- ..." A sigh sound from his voice box. ".... alright." Sun turns back to Karma. "... Sorry about that." He apologizes.

The lights of the theater start going dim.

Sun's colors transition to purple-ish colors. The stars from Moon's pants start merging with Sun's stripes. Their head spins as the hat appears on their head, now purple with the same yellow stars. The crescent on their face turns orange as the other side gets dark.

"Hello Karma." Eclipse spoke.

"Hi Eclipse." Karma replied, calmer at Eclipse's presence.

Eclipse starts taking the cards from the playmat. Karma helps.

"I'm sorry for what Sun said." Eclipse softly mumbled. "He will give you a proper apology soon, is that we don't have much time right now." Eclipse mumbles with the dialogue that happened.

Karma gives the cards that the collected to Eclipse. "But what if he's right?" The child questions. "...about my father?"

Eclipse glances down at Karma in silence.

"...bad parents must be punished." Moon snitches through the voice box as Eclipse's rays shrunk at the opposite side of the crescent.

They hold the side of their head. "Moon!" Eclipse calls out the blue counter part. They sigh. "There's something to be clear..." Eclipse turns to Karma. "We are theater bots... Our knowledge about everything we know is mostly based on the tales that we perform. We don't fully understand how this parenting thing works, so don't take our words like the definitive truth for this matter..." They offer a hand to Karma.

Karma ponders for a second and grabs Eclipse's finger. "I just wanted to talk to people better..." They mumble.

Eclipse pauses for a brief moment. "What's your father's job?" They tilt their head.

Karma starts playing with Eclipse's hand joints. "He works with ad... Advocacy..." Karma slowly corrects themselves.

Eclipse hums acknowledge. "And your mother?"

"She's an art teacher." Karma presses their hand against Eclipse's palm.

The difference between Karma's hand and Eclipse's is marvelous, a small child and a lanky humanoid animatronic that can hold them like a literal doll.

Oh for moments like this to be eternal, but they wouldn't. Karma will grow up and there's nothing they could do about it, just watch and hope the best for Karma's future.

"Eclipse?" The worry in the soft voice of the child snaps the animatronic from its thoughts. "Are you guys okay?"

"Ah- yes I am." Eclipse pokes Karma's bow on their head. "So... An art teacher." Eclipse clasps their hands together.

Karma rests their back on Eclipse's hand. The size of this child doesn't match its fragility but they couldn't accept it yet. Wait, focus now.

"Indeed, your parents are different from each other." Eclipse comments. "Your father works for a more serious area. An attorney?"

"Yes! He's an attorney!" Karma joyfully jumps.

Eclipse gently taps one of Karma's afro puffs. "Working as an attorney is really complicated." They pondered. "Attorneys defend people, but they also have to defend bad people!"

Karma gasps. "They do?!"

"Yes! Such a fact, isn't it?" The bell on their hat jingles as they tilt their head. "Adults have lots of problems to face. Something to keep in mind."

Karma remains thoughtful for a moment... They try to climb Eclipse's arm, but is gently picked on their arms as they stand up on their feet. Carefully caring the small giggling child in their arms like a baby.

"Starlight." Eclipse calls. "You are a very dear friend to us and we are thankful for being your friends." They carefully lift Karma up to its eye level.

"I like being friends with you guys too!" Karma giggles.

A soft chuckle from Eclipse's voice box. "You are a wonderful child, sunshine. Remember that you have nice people in your family that you can count to help you and that you can talk to." They press their thumb against Karma's cheek, who grabs it like a joystick.

"Like Nana!" Karma chuckles.

"Yes! Just like her!" Eclipse gently spins their torso with Karma in hands. "Speaking of the angel..."

Steps approaching from the other side of the stage. Two elders talking notice the animatronic with the child.

"Karma, it's time to go!" The old lady gently calls out.

"Nana!" Karma wiggles their feet.

Eclipse gently places Karma to the ground. The child rushes towards their grandma.

The old man next to them laughs as the child hugs their grandma. "Have fun at the party you two!"

Nana hands over a backpack for Karma. "Are you sure you don't want to come along, José?" She offers.

José shakes off a hand. "Unfortunately I have been called to assist the show of the Glamrocks tonight." He explains.

"The makeup and figurines are organized and perfectly set for tonight Mr. Geppetto!" Eclipse spins towards the humans of the place.

"Thanks Eclipse..." Geppetto scratches his neck, forcing a chuckle.

"Bye Geppetto!" Karma waves at Geppetto. "Bye Eclipse, Sun and Moon!" The child takes their grandma's hand as they walk off the theater.

"Goodbye!" The lady waves at the man and his animatronic.

Geppetto and Eclipse waves back at them.

"Ready for tonight?" Geppetto asks Eclipse. "This is going to be a though night." He plays with his suspenders.

Eclipse clicks. "We are ready for everything!"

The hook goes down to the animatronic's back and Eclipse swings to the other side of the stage.

#niko niko writes #the daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf sun #sundrop #moondrop #daycare attendant #fnaf moon #niko niko noises #eclipse fnaf #fnaf eclipse #dca au #geppetto au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf daycare au

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