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rockettothestars222 · 2 months

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Mama’s Boy

Summary : During a bonding activity at the hotel, parents get brought up. Everyone seemed okay with talking a little about their parentage, but Alastor was off put by the topic. He didn’t think anyone would notice the way his smile strained, or that anyone would care when he slipped away, but you did. You cared. And you wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want to accept it.

Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor misses his mom, Alastor needs a hug, Alastor is losing it

Notes : Lots of people seemed to enjoy my interpretation of soft Alastor in my last oneshot, so here’s another one! I heart Alastor sm. Enjoy!

Word Count : 2.3k

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“Well you know! When your dad is the king of Hell, it complicates things sometimes, and with as long as my mom has been gone—” Charlie’s voice grows distant as you lose focus. It’s not that you don’t care, you’ve all just been talking about your parents for a good hour and a half. It started with a bonding exercise Charlie had decided would be fun. It started with talking about who people who meant a lot to you, and when Husk mentioned his father, everyone began to add on.

You looked around at everyone’s faces, and everyone seemed content with the conversation. Charlie was droning on about her familial issues, Angel had talked about his mother beforehand, and even Pentious mentioned some fond memories of his parents. But Alastor had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole experience.

Your gaze finally falls on The Radio Demon himself, an uncomfortable and awkward posture taking its hold on him. He was standing straighter than usual, his grin that was as consistent as he was creepy was now fairly strained, as his eyes darted, trying to look at anything but the company he surrounded himself with. Your brows furrowed as you stared, though you tried to make it not so obvious. His shoulders sunk for a moment as you watched him suck in a breath, readjusting to his normal position and finally breaking his silence.

“You’ll all have to excuse me for a moment, I have some business to attend to!” His preppy voice cut through Charlie’s dialogue as the focus in the room catches on him. His eyes finally find someone to land on. You! Oh, he’s looking at you. You blink as his gaze narrows, turning on his heels as the rest of the room murmurs goodbyes. Your eyes followed his path, watching him disappear further into the hotel.

“I didn’t think we had anything else on the agenda today,” Vaggie glances to her girlfriend, looking for some sort of explanation for the overlord’s odd behavior. You cast a glance Charlie’s way as well, curious, but you were met with a shrug and an absentminded smile.

“Must be personal errands or something! We can keep going with the activity,” she motions to you with her hand, encouraging you to speak about your own experiences. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes drifted back to the spot where Alastor had once stood. You had an itching sensation in your brain that you had a hunch wouldn’t fade unless you figured out what was going on.

You and Alastor were close, to some extent. He spoke to you more openly than any of the others at the hotel. And you were the same with him. But one thing he would never talk about was his life before Hell. It was a mystery. Like a locked vault that’s code was long gone. But you longed to grow closer to him. You’d be lying if you said your feelings toward the demon hadn’t begun to bubble into something more, but now wasn’t the time to process that. You had more interesting things to think about.

After a long beat of silence, you stood up.

“Sorry Charlie, but I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit!” You assure with a toothy grin and a thumbs up. The princess could only giggle, nodding at you and ushering to go take care of your ‘business.’

You hurried off in the direction Alastor had gone, going through a list of places he’d likely be in your head. Kitchen? No, he’d gone the opposite direction. Radio tower? He only went up there to broadcast. Library? Hotel doesn’t have one of those. You frowned. He’d like one though, you were sure of it.

His room.

It was the only other logical place to check in the hotel. You picked up your pace, his room was on one of the higher floors of the hotel. Finally reaching the elevator, you hesitate. Alastor wasn’t a vulnerable person. If something was wrong, would he tell you? You pressed the button for the elevator, despite doubt eating at the inside of your stomach. Stepping onto the dinky machine, you pressed the button for the floor you needed, taking a breath in and out. You needed to know what was going on with him.

The elevator hummed to life as it hoisted you upwards, an awkward silence falling over you, despite there being no one else in the machine. It dinged as you hit your desired floor, and you sighed, happy to be off of the unreliable thing. You continued your journey to The Radio Demon’s room, you face beginning to sour as you realized how unrealistic you were being. Al would never admit to you what was wrong. You knew that. Why were you trying?

As you reached his door, you stared up at it. A deer skull was etched into the red wood, a golden knob flourishing in the flickering lights of the hotel. You couldn’t give up on him. You’d gone through a lot to try and get close with Alastor. You couldn’t throw that effort away because of doubt. How idiotic would that be?

Without much thought, you placed your hand on that beautiful golden knob, slowly turning it, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly swung open, not so much as a creak coming from its hinges. You made a mental note to ask him how he got his door to be so quiet when all this was over, gently closing the door behind you. Sat on his bed, hunched over and face in his hands was The Radio Demon himself. Your eyes scanned the room as you tried your absolute best to not loudly question how he had a SWAMP in his room. Now wasn’t the time.

You walked into his room, approaching the deer-like demon in silence. You could hear muffled sniffles from under his hands, and he seemed far too lost in his own thoughts to pay your presence any mind. You, with slight hesitation, placed your hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened as his fingers parted slightly, his red eyes peering up at you through his lashes.

“Alastor, are you—”

A black tendril wrapping around your arm and pushing you back put a hold on your sentence. You stumbled backwards, barely catching yourself as you looked Alastor. He stood up, fast, tear stains brandishing his cheeks as his smile, that was somehow still there, strained into what was the closest thing to frowning he may be capable of. His neck bent wildly, his body growing larger in size as his eyes turned a shadowy black.

“GET OUT.” His voice was crackled with radio static, his teeth glued shut as his spoke through them like he was, well, a radio.

You’d never wanted to run away more than in that moment. This had gotten intense VERY quickly, and it was a bit frightening. But as your neck craned up and your eyes met his, and you’d never been met with such sadness.

“I can’t. Not until you talk to me, Alastor,” your words were firm, but your eyes were soft. Full of compassion. He shook his head, eyes squinting shut.

“You want me to talk to YOU? Why are you even trying to pretend to care?!” Alastor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fists onto the ground, the floor shuddering beneath him. You stepped closer, your eyes pleading silently that he’d hear you. Not just listen to your words, but comprehend them.

“I’m not trying to pretend anything. But I could tell you were upset earlier, and it’s obvious that you are now! I just want to be here for you! I want to understand!” Your voice rose in volume as you stood your ground, not faltering even this slightest bit. An almost animalistic growl left The Radio Demon’s throat as he moved closer to you.

“You truly want me to believe you’d ‘understand?!’ My mother was the ONLY person I had when I was alive, she was the only one that was there for me! The only one I’d ever DARE let myself be vulnerable around because she would NEVER hurt me,” Alastor’s hands clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his eye twitched. You listened with a solace look upon your face, narrowing your eyes at him with pity creasing your brow. “And NOW look at me. A demon. A MONSTER. I’ve ended countless lives, she was a saint among the living, and I am a HELLSPAWN. What would,” he collapsed to his knees, arms falling limp to his sides as he returned to his natural form, his voice falling quiet. “What would she think of me now? Her precious pride and joy. A murderer. She would be disgusted by me. Does it even matter? I’ll never see her again. She died long before I did. And now I’m here. Alone.”

Silence fell over the room as Alastor’s chest heaved, tears streaking his face once again. You waiting a moment before approaching him, kneeling down in front of the taller man. You gently, somewhat hesitantly, took his cheek in your hand, tilting his head to make him look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, eyeing that never ending smile. Your lips tugged upward as your thumb caressed his cheek, making a moment of contact with the corner of his lips.

“I bet your mom misses that smile,” his ears pinned down to the sides of his head, Alastor’s trembling hand covered your own, his smile tugging tighter as he leaned into your touch. “You’re not alone, Alastor.”

He fell into you, and your eyes widened in surprise. His head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tears coating your skin and shirt. His arms wrapped around your torso, his claws were surprisingly gentle. Almost like he was being cautious. You moved from your knees to your butt with a quiet thump, pulling his body closer to yours. One of your arms wrapped tightly around the lower half of his torso, the other around his shoulders, your hand combing through his soft hair.

Alastor’s face was warm against your skin, you could hear every sniffle, feel every shudder as soft sobs wracked his body. Sometimes, being in Hell made you forget, every person you met down here was once innocent. They were once alive, vulnerable, and just someone trying to find their place in the world. Big bad overlords like the on you were cradling in your arms were once human. They all were someone’s pride and joy, someone’s baby, someone’s entire reason to keep living. Despite what they’d become, they once were soft and pure, nothing is born evil. And times like this made you remember that.

After a good few minutes of The Radio Demon crying into your shoulder, he’d finally calmed, now just sitting in that same position, holding you close, a small sniffle every once in a while. You’d been lulling soft words into his ear, your best attempt to relax him. Slowly, Alastor picked his head up, straightening himself to sit sort-of-in-front-of-you, your legs were a little tangled due to the way you’d both been sitting for the past while. He looked into your eyes, his hands were gently fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as he averted his gaze.

“This was. A relieving experience,” he admits, his smile small but seemingly genuine. His face was tear stained, there were light bags under his eyes, but all and all, he seemed a lot lighter.

“Good. That’s,, that’s good. I’m glad,” you gave a lopsided grin, moving your hands to caress his arms. “Seemed like you might’ve needed that.”

“I suppose I did,” he returned the motion, his hands falling to your hips, though loosely.

This was the most physically affectionate you’d ever seen Alastor. He, generally speaking, didn’t like much contact. The most people would get from him is a simple handshake or pinch of the cheek, maybe an arm around the shoulder, but it was almost always in a condescending way. But this was very different. It was softer, more intimate. You felt almost privileged to see this side of him.

“I meant what I said,” you break the string of comfortable silence. Alastor tilted his head, expecting some elaboration. “About wanting to be here for you. Whenever you need it, I’m always there.”

“I know you did, my dear. I would like to. Hm,” a pause. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s hard to be open when we are quite literally in Hell. I should’ve known better than to think you’d ever try to use this against me. You’d never do that, would you?” His grip on your hips tightened slightly. A warning. But also, a plead.

“Of course not, I’d never even think of it,” you gave his arms a reassuring squeeze, and his grip on you loosened. You could only smile, pulling yourself closer to him and placing your forehead against his. Alastor rolled his eyes though when they fell back to you, his whole expression softened. This was a tender moment, and wasn’t one that you’d likely ever get again.

You admired him for a short moment, allowing silly thoughts of romance and companionship dance in your head. Alastor, The Radio Demon, with a lowlife sinner like you? It would be unprecedented. And yet, you couldn’t help but let the softness of this moment cloud your judgement. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth Alastor tensed. As you pulled away, you could see a very obvious blush across his face.

“Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, pulling away completely, withdrawing all contact. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Before he could reply, you gave a gentle pat on his head, and then walked out of his room. The overlord could only blink, watching you disappear. His heart fluttered with excited jitters as he stood, dusting himself off. He may just have to come to you with his issues more often.

#fanfic #writing #hazbin hotel #rockettothestars222 #reqs open #requests #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #comfort #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin husk

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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Dragon giving Luffy to Garp with the assumption that he's going to take care of him until he's ready to meet his son (because it's dangerous to have a child while he starts a fucking revolution, thank you very much) and then Garp just- Leaving Luffy on a village where he spends 24/7 alone waiting for the pirate he now considers his role model (because he doesn't have anybody else and Shanks is the only father figure around and he's just that nice) to come back from his adventures, and only being taken care of by Makino who has no responsibility over Luffy but still takes care of him because otherwise the kid would probably die from starvation, and lucky for him she's a sweetheart. And then he loses Uta, his only friend (with no explanation at all), to then carry the guilt of Shanks losing an arm for him and suddenly his legacy as a pirate. And then he's sent to another place with other people he doesn't know, because Garp thought "oh, yes, wonderful idea to leave my grandson with this depressed kid and some bandits" and Luffy luckily befriends Ace and Sabo because they're good people. Luckily. And luckily, Dadan is a good mom and loves them. But then Sabo fucking dies because nobody with authority was protecting these kids (I wonder who could've done that). And now Luffy has to carry both guilt, a legacy, and the biggest abandonment issues I've ever seen after losing his best friend and his brother when they were just children.

And I'm not saying Garp has made horrible decisions but he has made horrible decisions and Dragon should hit his own dad with Sabo's metal pipe.

#idk i just think dragon wouldn't like this #sabo: ah yes garp did *explains everything*#dragon: give me your metal pipe son i am going to beat the shit out of grandpa #i don't think he will but i think he should #i have resentment towards garp i know he's a funny and complex character and he's a good person but i am angry #i think we talk a lot of shit about dragon and shanks for being 'negligent parents' (they aren't btw learn what that means first please)#when garp is right there #one piece #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. dragon #monkey d. garp #red haired shanks #asl brothers #uta #portgas d. ace #revolutionary sabo

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i-cant-sing · 4 months

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I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

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loaksky · 5 months

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i don’t celebrate thanksgiving, but could you guys imagine college!ellie taking roommate!reader home to jackson because she’d be alone for the holiday? short lil oneshot to get back into the groove of writing. do i hate this? yes.

recommended songs: alabama haint — penny and sparrow + what once was — her’s

warnings: language, a few brief mentions of family issues, suggestive content (kissing among other things) + mild sexual content, a lil misunderstanding and angst bc who am i if i don’t ??, CONFESSIONS because i’m a sloot for them. i think that’s it? not proofread ofc heh

it’s the weekend before thanksgiving, sunday to be exact, and ellie’s packing her backpack for joel’s. the energy in the the room’s a little off despite the fact that you’re normally reserved, and even though the two of you have only met this year, ellie’s learned to read you pretty well.

“you goin’ home for thanksgiving?” ellie asks absently, trying to make small talk as she rolls a sleep shirt and some pajamas haphazardly to stuff at the top of her bag.

there’s a pause that makes her brain itch before she sees the way you shake your head from where you’re hunched over a textbook at your desk.

“my family’s all over the place right now,” you answer honestly.

and ellie doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally, but the lack of emotion in your voice tells her that maybe she shouldn’t pry. she can’t help it, though. because you’re her sweet and quiet roommate who’d been serious (and maybe a little scary) at first, but turned out to be a goofball with a little bit of prodding.

so seeing you like this, checked out and maybe a little stressed, ellie treads cautiously.

“so you’re gonna stay here?” she asks.

you don’t even spare her a glance.

“yeah.” your shoulders shrug. “no point in dropping so much money for a plane ticket if i’m going to be sitting home alone anyways.”

ellie makes a noise in the back of her throat and you throw look over your shoulder.

“sorry,” you offer softly, smile sheepish. “that was a little depressing.”

ellie shakes her head.

“no, i get it,” she assures you. “my family’s not really...”

you blink at her as she trails off.

“conventional? i guess?”

another quiet blankets the two of you and ellie’s speaking before she can even filter through the repercussions of her next words.

“you’re always welcome to...y’know...come with,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “it’s not even a two hour drive.”

you hope ellie can’t tell that your cheeks are burning.

“you don’t have to, of course,” ellie blabbers. “but joel’s cool, so’s my uncle and his wife. it’d be nice, i think. and jackson’s pretty fun around this time of year...”

“i don’t wanna imp—”

ellie breathes a laugh.

“don’t,” she warns you, tips of her ears burning. “you’re more than welcome, seriously.”

it’s how you end up in the passenger seat of ellie’s old 4runner, heater on blast while sublime plays on the radio.

the car ride had consisted of ellie munching on cold fries the two of you had picked up from mcdonald’s before the interstate and you finally opening up about how your parents are divorced and how the holidays are a lot more stressful than they are pleasant.

ellie really feels for you, definitely knows the feeling losing her mom at a pretty young age and being adopted in middle school by a single, bereaved father. she tells you that they’d found each other when they needed the other the most.

and you don’t particularly know why you’re so nervous when ellie finally takes the exit off the interstate and you guys make your way through the suburbs. perhaps it’s the domesticity of meeting her family, or that you’re over a hundred miles away from familiarity, but your fingers are trembling when she turns into the neighbourhood and cozy brick homes line the frost-laden streets.

she’s pulling up and parking on the curb in front of a warm two-story that has a blue pickup truck and a gold SUV in the driveway when she notices.

“hey, hey,” she whispers, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands to stop the shaking. “you okay?”

her hands are warm when they close over yours and her thumbs is brushing over your skin soothingly.

“i’m being dumb,” you admit.

ellie’s eyes are crystal clear under the setting sun.

“don’t say that,” she says softly. “you wanna take a second?”

you swallow and shake your head.

“no, we can go,” you assure her.

she’s searching your face for any tell, but when you offer her a soft smile, she’s leaning back in her seat and nodding. before she completely pulls away, you’re stopping her.

“thanks, ellie,” you say gently. “this was really kind of you.”

she flashes you an easy smile, squeezes your hand a final time before climbing out of the car and rounding the front to help you out.

and truthfully, you realize you were nervous for nothing. because when the door swings open to reveal an older man aged with smile lines and greying hair, ellie seemingly softens infinitely.

“hey, kiddo,” he greets, crushing her in a hug so tight, she’s spluttering out a laugh.

“joel, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes.

you’re standing there awkwardly, backpack slung over your shoulder when joel finally loosens his hold on ellie and glances over her head.

“who’s this?” he asks, but the smile he wears is knowing.

“________, my roommate,” she introduces quickly, cheeks warming an awful shade of red as she begs every force above that joel won’t blow her cover.

because, okay, maybe ellie’s talked about you on the phone way more times than she’d care to admit out loud. talked about how intimidating you were at first, then graduated to talking about how you were actually so cool. and maybe she’d brought up the fact that she thought you were pretty. like...super pretty. and that maybe she was crushing a teensy bit.

“nice to meet you,” joel replies simply, sparing ellie this time around.

you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto, offering a smile that makes ellie wonder if she’ll survive the week with you in such a new proximity.

“nice to meet you, too,” you almost whisper, relaxing as he reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder.

“here, let me take this for you,” he says.

and it doesn’t take you long to realize where ellie gets it from. her kind spirit and fierce yet gentle heart. joel is soft-spoken, a little rough around the edges, but a warm energy that radiates through the home he’s made for himself and ellie.

it makes infinitely more sense enter tommy and maria, her uncle and aunt who tell you the silliest stories about the starry-eyed girl in her youth over dinner. who bring out her boisterous laughter when they sing old 80’s music over dishes and evening TV.

“your family’s so cool,” you say in awe, wrapped in one of her coats she’d dug out of the closet under the stairs.

you’re nursing a mug of hot chocolate that steams in the icy air of jackson on her back porch.

ellie breathes out a little laugh.

“they’re something,” she jokes, watching you over the rim of her mug.

you make her heart thud hard in her chest as she takes you in, bundled in pieces of her that make her think that she wouldn’t mind making you hers.

“i miss times like these,” you whisper.

ellie shifts closer, catching you by surprise when her thumb swipes over the curve of your top lip.

“sorry,” she hums quietly. “you had...uh...”

you let out a hollow laugh and shake your head, tell her that it’s fine as a silence blankets the two of you.

“i’m glad you like them,” ellie admits softly. “sometimes i get a little self-conscious because, y’know, everyone expects a nuclear family and...”

“i’d take this any day,” you assure her, and the true implication of your words is latent, but something hopeful pricks her tummy.

i’d take this any day...with you.

and locking eyes with you usually scares her, usually makes her queasy with nerves because there’s always something searing in your gaze, but it’s like you see each other for the first time, no barriers.

ellie’s so close she can feel the warmth of your body coiling and drawing her in. her breath’s caught in her throat as she chances a glance at your mouth and her own lips begin to tingle.

she’s on the brink of asking if she can kiss you, but the back door is sliding open and two familiar faces are surfacing.

“williams!”

ellie’s daze melts away as she shifts to put distance between the two of you at the arrival of her friends.

“jess!” she calls. “dina!”

the moment clings heavy, but ellie writes it off. maybe she’s jumping the gun, reading too much into tender moments. it’s colored on your face, though, as she stands to meet her friends halfway, that the two of you are tethered and you feel it too.

ellie’s friends are another reflection of her character. they take you under their wings in the days leading up to the holiday with jesse teaching you to ride his minibike and dina telling you stories of their childhood while excitedly painting your nails pretty shades of autumnal colors because both jesse and ellie vehemently decline.

joel graciously relinquishes his kitchen to the four of you the day before thanksgiving. lets you guys gather around and bake an array of different desserts for tomorrow’s dinner over a few beers and winecoolers.

perhaps ellie’s a lightweight, you come to find, when she’s a lot more giggly and rosy-cheeked than she’d ever let anyone see. she’s feeling a little bubbly and you definitely don’t help the fact when you gaze upon her so fondly as you smear away the streaks of flour across her cheek.

jesse and dina are merely observers, watching with knowing grins as ellie practically melts against your touch.

and as the desserts cool on the kitchen island and the two of see jesse and dina out, ellie can’t keep her hazy eyes off of you. the two of you vote on a movie and she’s taking her usual seat in the right corner of the couch. it starts out with the two of you on opposite ends, but as the film plays, the space between you and ellie diminishes and she swears you can hear the way her heart’s pounding behind her ribcage with your ear pressed to her chest.

it’s uncharted territory considering ellie’s never been big on physical touch and she can’t even be sure that there's anything there, but you have to know. ellie’d mentioned past girlfriends, wasn’t really subtle when it came to wandering eyes on campus, hell, she’d even—

suddenly your arm’s tightening around the narrow of her waist and you’re nestling impossibly closer and christ, ellie can’t help herself when the coarse pads of her fingertips brush your jaw to catch your attention.

your gaze is illuminated by pixels and there’s a hitch in your breathing as you search her features for any hesitation. it’s long gone, you find, when ellie’s mouth is slotting yours, lips warm and tongue still flavored with sparkling wine.

ellie kisses like you’re air and she needs you to breathe. it’s almost embarrassing, way her body reacts to your proximity, how hot she us under the collar and achey as you move to straddle her. her fingertips are skimming down your spine, past the small of your back to take a—

your teeth sinking in the plump of her bottom lip and the way your soft palms find purchase against the rigid expanse of her tattooed abdomen is sobering. has her bony fingers cupping the flesh of your jaw.

“wait, wait,” she whispers, chest heaving and breaths shallow as she looks up at you.

the dust is starting to settle and you take in ellie’s kiss-bitten lips, swollen and slick. her pupils are blown wide, sweater riding up to reveal reddened flesh like you’ve branded her. you lean back.

“fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i’m so sorry.”

ellie’s mouth is drying.

“why are you sorry?” she whispers.

you seem to chew on your words, eyes teary and expression scared.

“why are you sorry?” ellie repeats, not caring enough to mask the hitch in her voice as she pries.

“you’re always so fucking good to me, ellie,” you whimper. “you’re a great roommate and an even better friend and—”

ellie blows out a deep sigh, falls slack against the cushions as she levels you with an indiscernible look in her eye.

“don’t do that,” she breathes.

“ellie.”

“c’mon, you know me better than that,” she says, tone tinged with annoyance. “you don’t have to let me down easy. you can be honest.”

and color you confused because how couldn’t she fathom that you’ve fallen and head first at that? she’s reading it all wrong, you realize, when defeat shutters over her pretty face.

“i—”

the floorboards outside the den creak and ellie’s pushing you off just as the door squeaks open to reveal joel’s aging face.

he reads the room a moment, decides to blow by the sheen in your eyes and ellie’s rigid posture.

“tommy and maria are leaving, kiddo,” he says. “if you wanna say bye.”

ellie nods, stands and leaves you in the television-illuminated room.

you realize she won’t come back for you when the telltale sound of the front door closes and the stairs seem to groan under her weight.

it’s half past two in the morning when you slip from the den, glass of water condensating on a coaster as you try to collect yourself on the screened-in deck out back.

the icy chill stings your lungs, makes you gulp in breath after breath. the night’s starting to dawn you, the gravity of the situation overwhelming you enough to choke.

“fuck,” you whisper, that familiar feeling of dread squeezing your chest.

meanwhile, ellie can’t sleep. has been staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom for the past two and a half hours. you’re all she can think of. pliant curves of your body settling over hers to fit like you two were made for each other, the smell of your subtle perfume, the taste of your mouth.

and she wants to be annoyed, angry at the fact, but she’d brought you all the way here, extricated you from your comfort zone and showed you parts of her she wouldn’t dream of revealing to anyone else.

she recalls the resignation in your tone on the drive up, how you’d divulged the dysfunction of your family and the troubles you carried with you as a result. it’d be your first holiday with someone other than yourself for a while and she’d be damned if it soured because she couldn’t push her feelings aside.

the tv’s off and the blanket’s folded when she musters up enough courage to enter the den again, heart sinking to her ass when she slides back into the kitchen and finds that the sliding door to the back deck is cracked ever so slightly.

she’s seen you in a lot of ways these past eleven-odd months she’s known you, but she’s never seen you like this, hands over your heart and chest heaving like you’re trying to ground yourself.

when your watery gaze swings to her, ellie’s melting, cushion sinking as she settles next to you.

“sorry,” you whisper shakily. “i don’t—”

ellie’s shifting to face you, arms winding around your shoulders as one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.

“let’s talk about it later,” ellie offers softly. “we can just go to bed for now and—”

“i really, really like you, ellie,” you say in one breath, and it has her body locking up, the audible catch of her inhale sounding near your ear.

“but?”

“no buts,” you admit. “just that i don’t want you to think that i kissed you because you’re being nice to me. well, i guess you’re always nice to me. it’s one of the reasons why i…”

and ellie doesn’t mean to tune you out, but you’re so fucking cute and so sweet and she shouldn’t have doubted you or herself because you’re hiccuping and shivering and—

you taste better the second time around. now ellie’s a little less unsure, still a little nervous because you’re the first girl to make her feel like this and she doesn’t want the bubble she’s built around the two of you in this corner of her little world to burst, but kissing you feels so right.

she’s dragging you back inside, past the den and up the stairs, and maybe the two of you do things you shouldn’t in her twin size bed in her childhood room when her dad’s only a few walls away, but she can’t help herself. not when you’ve always been an arm’s length away and she can finally have you.

it isn’t until the two of you lay under the dim glimmer of the glow-in-the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, her face pressed in your neck, that she says it.

“i really, really like you, too,” she whispers. “i realized i didn’t say it back.”

but it’s not like she needs to. you knew that already.

neng ©️2023

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou2

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gglitch1dd · 1 month

Text

Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt2

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

[Part 1] [Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]

Context: Your eldest son isn't as ignorant as you and Izuku wished he was.

Warning: Eldest sibling syndrome, daddy issues, generational trauma

Toshinori leaned against the doorway of the sliding door. His father was outside playing with Kota and Hero, both boys trying desperately to get their father down and trying to tap out on the grass. Izuku laughed as he faked losing this round as he stayed down on the grass as both boys were piled ontop of him. “Alright alright! I give up.” He laughed. Hero and Kota gave each other a high five.

Toshinori couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his two younger brothers playing together, Kota’s eyes still having that light in them that hadn’t diminished. Toshinori was glad the young boy wasn’t as affected by the past six months like the rest of them were. When Shoyo died, it had left a gaping whole in the entire family, especially in you. Shoyo was only five and was Kota’s play mate considering they were so close in age, however, seeing Hero despite being three years older than Kota, play with his brother now made the eldest of the Midoriya boys at ease.

But the smile on his face quickly left when he reminded himself that he was here to talk to someone. To his father.

He forced a smiled to his face as he kicked off the doorway and walked further onto the deck outside. “Hey dad!” Izuku turned to look at his son with a smile. “Can I talk to you for second?”

Izuku stood up easily, ignoring the two giggling boys that now hung off his figure. It didn’t even hinder him at all as he nodded. “Sure thing.” He took Kota off his shoulders and Hero off from his back as he put both of them to stand back on the grass. “How about the both of you go back inside and turn on the Nintendo. We can play Mario Kart if you want.”

“Mario Kart!” Hero let out excitedly. “Yes!” He took Kota’s hand and the both of them went sprinting towards the door. They both paused as they slid, back on their shoes. Hero turned to look up at his older brother who had his hands resting in his sweatpants.

Toshinori nodded his head subtly, allowing them to go ahead. Both boys went sprinting back into the house. “No running!” He shouted after them. “The else mom will be tugging on your ears.” He reminded them as he slid the door closed.

Izuku moved onto the deck, up the few steps before grabbing a seat on the table that was there. He smiled at the sight of his oldest son. Toshinori was a rather skinny kid, after hitting puberty, but he was working on building muscle especially since he now had One for All. It was one of the things that took Izuku by surprise, with how well adjusted Toshinori was to having the quirk.

“Hey bud, what’s going on?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair. Toshinori hadn’t talked to him like this since before Shoyo had passed, so admittedly he was rather excited that he was willing to talk to him now. Over the past two weeks, he had been trying hard to get back into the boy’s lives and it had been easier for every other boy except for Toshinori. It was something that confused Izuku considering the both of them were so close to one another before, and Toshinori seemed to support and urge his brothers to spend time with him but wouldn’t do the same. “Is it friend troubles?”

Toshinori shook his head as he sat down opposite his father. “Nope.” He answered honestly.

“Is it a girl?” Izuku asked earning a blush from Toshinori.

“Dad!”

“What?” He chuckled with his hands up. “You’re a smooth kid. Is it Satomi? If so, I got to warn you that Uncle Eijiro is very protective of his daughter and-”

“No! No dad! It’s not Satomi.” He refuted with a flushed expression but a frown on his face. “She’s just a friend! Besides she’s my best friend’s sister so she’s an instant no go.”

Izuku was buying it (although he respected the bro code). Not a second. Considering how blatantly obvious it was that the girl had a crush on Toshinori since they were both toddlers, it was either that his eldest son was dense or he truly just didn’t have a crush on her. Izuku told himself that he’d spectate while on their vacation that the entire friend group had agreed to go on together.

“No, I just had a question for you.”

Izuku perked up and smiled. He folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. “Alright, shoot.” He stated, being an open book.

Toshinori sat in front of him with a smile, his eyes giving nothing away as he stared back at his father. “What did you do?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When? Today?” He asked not entirely sure on what his fourteen year old was getting at.

“You’ve changed.” Toshinori’s voice was calm and levelled, almost as if he was asking something casual. “For the past six months you’ve been working non-stop.” At the mention of the time frame, Izuku found himself tensing. “I can probably count on one hand how many conversations that weren’t greetings that we’ve had. And now suddenly, you go on leave. Now, habits formed are usually hard to break. So its either you miraculously came to your senses or mom got fed up, or you did something that mom found out about. Now I know it isn’t the first two, because mom would never give up on anyone of us, so the question is, what did you do?” he asked with a smile.

Izuku kept his poker face but inside his heart was beating fast enough that he could hardly breathe. How did Toshinori know? You couldn’t have told him. You refused to tell any of your children anything and honestly, your acting the past two weeks have been superb, almost great enough for Izuku to forget for just a second himself.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. “Toshinori, I have no idea what you are talking about.” He stated, lying through his front teeth. His son’s smile only broadened but he didn’t say anything. “I just realised that I had been rather busy-”

“Out of the 400 000 crimes committed in the last six months, three quarters of them being referred to ProHeroes, the top three hero agencies in this country dealt with 200 000. Uncle Shota’s Agency dealt with 40k, the DynaRiot agency had 60k, you dealt with the other 100 000.”

At the mention of the statistics, Izuku cringed. That was a lot. He admitted that he did overwork himself and his workers a lot the past six months. He let out a sigh as he moved a hand to rub his eyes. “I know I was busy-”

“You missed my birthday.”

That fact made Izuku freeze. His eyes flicked over to his son who stared right back at him, not a hint of anger nor sadness. When… when was Toshinori’s birthday?

“That’s impossible.” Izuku denied as he shook his head with a laugh. “Your fourteen-”

“I’m fifteen.” He whispered, the only sign that he felt upset about that fact. Which only made Izuku feel worse.

He missed his son’s birthday? He didn’t remember you ever telling him about a party or a plan for his birthday. Izuku was pale as a sheet as he remembered that Toshinori’s birth month was indeed four months ago.

Before he could get the chance to speak on it, Toshinori beat him to it. “It doesn’t matter. We were going through a lot so I didn’t expect a party anyways. I forgot myself to be honest, it was mom who had to remind me.” He spoke honestly as he leaned back in his chair. “But that doesn’t steer away from my question… what did you do?”

Izuku swallowed down hard but kept his composure. Unlike his brothers, Toshinori was a teenager. Her was perceptive and could understand a lot more than what he thought. “Toshi… it is none of your concern. Your mother and I talked, we sorted it out and everything is fine now.”

For the first time since the entire conversation, Toshinori’s smile fell as his eyebrows furrowed, he straightened up. “Dad, I respect you wholeheartedly, but it is my concern.”

“Toshinori, you’re a kid.”

“I think you forget that while you were busy at work, I was the one here at home keeping us all together!” Toshinori’s outburst surprised Izuku as his eyebrows raised in surprise, his eyes widened. His eldest son had finger to his chest as he frowned. His voice being raised as he looked straight at his father. “I was the one who did all of mom’s chores that week after Shoyo’s funeral, not you. I was the one who sat with my brother’s helping them with their homework cause mom didn’t have the energy and you weren’t there. I was the one who signed all of their tests and homework schedules and showed up alongside mom at parent teacher meetings when Asahi was fighting kids at school, not you.” His voice cracked for a second as tears brimmed his green eyes as he looked at his father with something mixed with pain and frustration. “You raised me to be the man of this house in case you weren’t around and here I am doing that! So please dad, don’t tell me that it doesn’t concern me!” He shouted.

Izuku sat frozen with wide eyes as he stared back at his son. For a scary moment he saw himself. He saw himself when he stood across from the glass in Tarturus supreme villain’s prison when he got to talk to his father. He remembered the pain and the agony of having to be the responsible one around and care for his mother and be less of a kid than others. His son was just like him.

And it scared him to his very being.

Toshinori froze as he realised that he had just shouted at his father. His pupils shrinking as instant regret washed over him. “I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry dad I…”

Izuku felt hurt as he moved to stand up to head over to his eldest son. “Toshi-”

“I’m tired. I went on a run this morning, I’m just not thinking straight.” In a flash of light, Toshinori was at the sliding door, opening it and walked back into the house in a rush, trying to get away from him as fast as possible.

You watched your son race past you as you carefully cut the toasted sandwiches you had made for lunch. You looked at him surprised and shocked as he raced past. “Toshinori?” You asked him surprised. To your surprise however, he didn’t stop. Your eyebrows furrowed as you set down your knife, wiping your hands as you quickly followed after him up the stairs. “Toshi? Toshi are you okay?” You asked as you raced after him.

“I’m fine, mom! I j-just need to make a phone call.” He lied and you could hear it so easily.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you quickly made an extra step and caught him right before he could get to his room. You took a hold of his arm as you forced him to stop running. You saw in his eyes he looked like he was panicking. You took a hold of his hand as you closed the door to his room before looking at him genuinely. “Toshi, come on talk to me. What is it?” You asked softly.

For a moment your son just looked at you but then you saw his face break. You saw that look of pure agony on his face as his hands started to shake. Tears spilled from his eyes as he tried to bite back a sob. You instinctively brought him in for a hug, holding him up as he broke down in your arms. Toshinori hadn’t cried since the funeral and lord knows that you didn’t hold him like this when it did happen. It was one of your biggest regrets, but you knew that everything would come out eventually. Like right now.

You held him tightly in your arms, wondering what on earth brought this about and what would you have to kill to make his agony end. You placed a kiss on his forehead as you just held him. You didn’t say anything, allowing his pain to pass as you took the moment to just be here for him.

“I’m sorry.” He sobbed into your chest as his hands gripped onto you painfully tight almost as if you were gonna disappear. His voice sounded so small as it cracked, his body shivering in your grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

You shushed him quietly as you rest your head on his as you carefully pat his back the same way you did when he was younger. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” You spoke softly as you held him.

“No, it’s not! I’m so angry, momma.” His voice was muffled but you heard every word of it. “Why wasn’t he here earlier? Why now! I know you don’t want me to be angry but I was so disrespectful. I’m so sorry.”

You shushed him quietly as you held him tighter against you. “Oh my little sprout… Holding such anger isn’t good for your heart my love. I’m not angry and you shouldn’t be.” You told him softly as you held him in your arms. You let out soft hums as you held him. You held him until the world melted away and until his crying and shaking stopped. You held him until he was the first one to let go.

You took out a handkerchief you always kept on you, being a mom to so many children. You handed it to him as you smiled. You placed a kiss on his forehead. “Toshi, my baby, how about you take a nap hm? Then we can go for a walk later in the evenings, just the two of us. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He nodded with an exhausted look on his face. “Okay.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

You left Toshi by himself, allowing him to work whatever feelings he still had left or to just nap. You stayed against his door for a moment as you tried to fight back a scowl. You swallowed down hard as you moved back downstairs. “Boys! Food is in the kitchen!” You called out, noting that you should bring up food to Toshinori so he doesn’t have to come down. However, your priority was Izuku. You walked straight outside, opening as you looked at him as he stood facing the garden. “What did you talk about with Toshinori?” You asked lowly.

Izuku was silent for a moment, his hands in his pockets as he just stared at the garden, bunnies hopping out of their burrow. “He knows something happened.” His voice was deadpanned but showed concern. “He doesn’t know what.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I told him it wasn’t his concern and that we talked about it and everything I said that day was true.”

“Good.” You let out coldly but you didn’t move from where you both stood. He could hear it in your voice, just how ready you were to cut into him if he had broken the agreement of not telling the kids. You noticed how tense his shoulders were. Whatever Toshinori had said to him, was enough to cut into him deeply.

You frowned but walked away.

Izuku heard you leave, his shoulders falling, glad that you would leave him be to his own devices and wallow in self-hate. He hated this. He hated the feeling that he had ruined his relationship with his eldest son and had put so much responsibility and pain onto him. He was a kid for goodness sake. He didn’t deserve any of this. Izuku dragged a hand down his face, trying to stop himself from shedding tears. This wasn’t a time to cry but he was choking up from the inside.

Izuku heard footsteps behind him and instantly he brought himself together. “Hey bud-” instead of it being one of the boys, it was you.

You held a tray of sandwiches and lemonade along with home made mochis. You looked at him with a frown but placed the tray on the table next to him. Sitting in the tray was a pack of tissues as well. Before he could look at you again, you turned around and headed straight back inside. “Eat something. You’re getting skinny.” With that you left him alone.

Izuku was frozen as he stared down at the tray. Lord knows he wasn’t as skinny as he once was… but that was because of you. You always made him good hearty food that always made him feel so full and grateful. You always fed him whenever he was in a bad mood.

Even now.

He couldn’t help but smile.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader angst #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku angst #deku x reader angst #dilf midoriya #dilf deku

703 notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 4 months

Text

click!: in frame. 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, ANGST!!, loss and unhealthy grieving, papa issues, verbally abusive parent(PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY), depictions of therapy and counseling, light discussion of anger management, brief mention of alcohol, bullying, a lil fluff, SMUT!! YIPPEE MDNI, bondage, squirting, bathroom sex, eating out no taqueria, ellie getting sloppy from a hot milf that’s it

You look like your mom.

Your father’s admiring whisper yanks you out of the hazy turbulence in your mind. You shovel a handful of caramel popcorn in your mouth. You don’t dare look at him.

Daughter things, I guess. Your dad simply hums. Silence simmers between the two of you. It’s not comforting. Not like it should be. A bomb is coming.

Honey, I… I love you. Your father sounds like he's crying and it pauses your aggressive chewing. You finally turn to face him and your fingers twitch when you see his globby tears. They’re heavy as he releases his regrets in silence, just like he always does during this time of year.

Me, too, dad.

You’re not sure if you’re lying or not. Some things are impossible to forget, you suppose.

You eat more popcorn with a permanently damaged heart.

FOUR YEARS LATER

FIRST DAY WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Some people believe that any form of assistance is… insulting. Whether it be to them as people or… specific traits that they hold that others may find unfamiliar or unsettling. I’m not here to judge or anything of that nature. Just here to help you figure out why specific aspects of your life affect you the way they do.”

Your arms cross over your chest. Dr. Brown realizes you’re not taking the bait, so she attempts to get you more comfortable. “I think icebreakers could help ease some of the tension. So… What’s your favorit— “

“My dad died last year.”

Your statement makes her freeze, her smile melting off her face, eyes shifting across her face. She adjusts some papers on her clipboard and clicks her pen. “Alright, hun,” Her gentle tone makes your stomach twist. “Let’s talk about it. What was the relationship with your dad like?” You simply shrug.

Dr. Brown nods and tries again. “Were you and him close? Your notes say you and your mother were inseparable, just like me and mine.”

Your nails sink into your cuticles and tears burn in your eyes, “I… I wanted to be. Close.” You whisper. “He wasn’t around like that, though.”

She scribbles and solemnly nods, “Did he work often?” Your head bobs and droplets stream down your cheeks.

“I didn’t think I’d care that he died… He was never around growing up, so… like, whatever.” You grumble lamely.

“What did losing him feel like?”

The end of your mouth curls downward, the familiar searing you’ve grown to loathe, “Like… the world was burnin’.”

“Elaborate.” She pries softly.

Another bounce from your shoulders. You readjust in your seat. “I wasn’t even sad. Just…” You trail off, fingers twitching under your arm.

“Angry. I was angry all the time.” You rush out quietly, face burning with shame. “Just like he was.” You pause when your breath shakes, “I wish I got some of my mom’s traits. My dad’n I are just alike.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater.

“… You’re not like him— “

“I am— “

“You’re not. You’re trying to put in effort to be better for the future. Could he have said the same?” She’s stern when she speaks.

You’re stumped. You wipe your tears harshly. For the first time, you're at a loss for words.

WEEK TWO WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“Think about the first time you saw your dad lash out. You can elaborate on how you felt, how you reacted, how your environment changed… Anything you feel comfortable sharing.” Your eyes stay glued to your therapist’s couch as you recall the day. Every detail and foul verbiage he directed towards your mother resurfaces and falls at your sock-covered feet.

It was the morning of your first day of second grade. Your mother spent the entire morning hot-combing your hair, bumping your ends, littering your locks that were bound to recoil in seconds in bobbles and clips. She could tell by your expression that you didn’t like it, but she completed your bright pink outfit with it’s not for you, it’s for me! Sit still! She never failed to live vicariously through you; Every childhood moment she couldn’t live out was now yours.

Your father wasn’t around much. He was a truck-driver, on a constant voyage to wherever he was instructed to go, hundreds to thousands of miles away from solace for months — sometimes years at a time. He missed birthdays, holidays, family reunions; There was always a missing space for him somewhere in your childhood home, whether it be his customized keychain that he forgot, shoes he didn’t pack, a hug he didn’t give. Proof of him was always scattered around somewhere, but he was a shadow. A blank memory.

So, why were your cartoons interrupted by his booming voice in the kitchen?

You remember turning the television down, only by a couple digits, your ears honing in on every word he screamed at your mother. You were so confused. Half of those words you’d never heard before. Why was he so mad this early in the morning?

You knew it was serious when your mother retaliated just as loudly, the cracks and shrieks from her belts sounding alarms in your brain. Your mom’s in trouble! Help her! But how could you? You were defenseless against him. It felt like the day flew by as their aggression intensified, curses nearly shattering the glass of your backyard door before everything went quiet.

But still, your feet carried you to peek behind the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. Your attempts at being discreet were pointless, though. When you saw your mother pinned up against the counter by your father, tears streaming down her face as he spat with every whisper onto her cheek, you gasped. Your memory is washy after that, but you remember your mother wiping her tears and slapping that comforting grin on her face. You wish you didn’t remember how broken she sounded when she said alright, baby! Ready for school? Don’t wanna be late!

You suffered through social studies, language arts, and math. Your mind wasn’t where it should’ve been; You couldn’t shake the fact that your mother could be hurt and she had no one to tell. You just prayed to yourself as your teacher spoke, hoping that your mom would be on time to pick you up at the end of the day.

Your eyes travel over the teal incisions of thread on your therapist’s seat. You’re still not used to the sound of your own voice. “It’s… it’s a funny story…” You sound so weak. You retell what you can, all while following the tip of your therapist’s scribbling pen.

Why did it have to be green? Why are the clicks deafening?

“Ellie, holy fucking — shit, these look fucking incredible!” Yuki whispers, expression impressed as she snoops over the auburn-haired girl’s shoulder, inspecting the aerial shots she’d taken a few hours ago. Editing is a bitch. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re…”

“A genius, I know,” Ellie says dryly, a soft grin hidden behind the hand that holds her head up. It’s almost eleven. “M’almost done— “

“Nope! Not happening!” Another voice exclaims from the black lounge chair on the opposite side of the room. “You’re not the one that has to lock up every goddamn night! I ain’t stayin’ here ‘til two again! You got two seconds to finish up before I drag you up outta here.”

Yuki giggles at Saliyah’s scolding, and Ellie sighs. The pictures look almost perfect. Almost. They’re not there yet! All she needs is an hour… or three—

“What did I say! —“

“Alright, alright, fuck.” Ellie shakes her head before closing all her tabs, pulling her flash drive out of the PC before shutting it down. She stands from her rolling chair and snags her blazer from over the back of it, throwing it over her shoulders and grabbing her work bag, camera already securely inside. She shoves the drive in a random pocket before stretching.

The two girls already have all of their belongings in hand, more than ready to clock the fuck out. Yuki eyes her slyly, sarcasm dripping from her tone, “Oh, wooow, she’s actually taking orders, now? Listening to instructions for the first time? —“

“Can you stop.” Ellie mutters as she follows the girls descending the stairs. “No!” They both say in unison. Ellie smiles. Does she really stay out that often? There’s no way she’s that stubborn.

All three girls crack jokes as they vacant the building, ensuring all the lights and equipment are shut off and prepped for tomorrow. It’s an early day.

“Alright, bitches!” Yuki screams into the darkness, bag swinging as her heels click-clack on the pavement. “I want you bright and bushy-tailed tomorrow! Busy day! No time to fuck arou— “

Saliyah yawns, eyes droopy, “Girl… fuck you.” Ellie cackles and rubs her tired eyes. She can’t wait to get these six hours in. And see her baby. Saliyah wraps her arms around Ellie’s neck, muttering see you tomorrow, stinker into her neck. Ellie hums and holds her before watching her get into her vehicle.

Ellie does the same after both girls leave the parking lot, her head falling back onto the headrest, eyes shutting in exhaustion. Today was insane… Fuck, it was incredible. She's always accepted opportunities to take photos in nature. Landscapes are her prestige, but when she got the offer to take aerial shots of the ocean, she couldn’t say no. Just when she thought she’d never get on an aircraft out of fear…

The shots were mystical, the monsoon winds carrying the waves in all directions as the foams ripple, a scene straight out of her dreams. The second she got off the helicopter, she got to editing. Staying in late to perfect her captures has become a terrible habit, but what can she say? She loves her job. Thank God her coworkers are as sweet as cherry pie and support her bad habit. Besides tonight, apparently.

Days like this keep Ellie humbled… Most times. She deserves to boast every once in a while. She often thinks back on her college days, how out of touch chances like these seemed. The number of times she was brushed off by respected professionals because she lacked “necessary resources” was astronomical. But look at her now. She had everything she could ever want: a career she’s passionate about, healthy friendships, and the means to take care of her father.

Well… she has most things.

She sighs and starts her vehicle, the diamonds in her Rolex sparkling under the street lights beaming in from the window. The streets are calm. Not normally bustling like they would on a regular day. The clouds are coming in; Rain is due. She’s so excited.

It’s a calm drive back to her small home. She pulls into the driveway and exits with all her supplies, unlocking and entering her place of peace.

Meow! Meow!

Ellie clicks her tongue at Pickle, “Hiii, mama. I’m home.” She drops her bag on the small couch near the front door, bending down to pick her up. “You’re heavy, fuck.” The baby purrs and nuzzles into her neck as they enter the kitchen. She sets her down on the counter and opens the fridge for water. There’s soft scuffling from behind her as she sips.

Ellie turns to see Pickle playing with a pen, rolling it across granite. She swallows her last gulp before sighing, picking up the utensil, the one memory she kept of you. Your colorful fucking custom ballpoint pen. Pickle nibbles her fingers, trying to snatch it back to play with, but Ellie clicks it over and over.

“Miss her? Yeah?” She whispers. Pickle licks her index. Ellie will never admit it, but she thinks about you whenever she sees her baby. Yours, too.

She hopes you’re alright.

“You said that going to his funeral was different from your mom’s. Do you mind elaborating?”

You shrug and scoff. “Shouldn’t everybody feel sad when they parents die?” Dr. Brown mimics you, “Not at all. Every reaction to loss is different and not all reactions are symmetrical.”

“I was angry.” Your statement is blunt and abrasive.

“Expound.”

“I wanted to dig him up and spit on him my damn self.” You say, sharp as razor blades. Brown hums, unfazed by your sudden aggression; What the hell do therapists write on those clipboards? “I just… Seein’ all these fuckers I didn’t know talk about how fuckin’… great he was and how missed he’ll be was fuckin’ infuriating. They don’t know shit about that man or the shit he’s done.”

Sympathy washes over Dr. Brown’s pupils. “See, your temper is the reason you’re here. You’re not obligated to forgive anybody that wronged you, but…” She’s simultaneously stern and empathic, “You do not get to use those emotions to inflict negativity onto the people around you. You’re perpetuating the same harm you wanted to avoid in the first place.”

You instantly know what she’s referring to and guilt radiates all the way down to your toes. Amaya… Oh, you miss her. Another good person caught in your violent crossfire. Your last conversation was vile, and you hate yourself every day for the things you said to the only person who unconditionally cared about your wellbeing. Tears brew in your ducts, but you blink them away.

“I didn’t… know what to do…” You didn’t, so you screamed and shouted and told her to never call your fucking phone again. The last thing you berated was the final nail in the coffin for your relationship. You left me, you’d said over and over until the line went dead. You left me alone! I fucking needed you!

“No one has the answers for these types of situations. Why we react the way that we do to traumatic events will always be a mystery.” She adjusts in her chair, leg crossing over the other. “What I do know is that… you’re fighting grief. You’re choosing not to experience it, and it’s making you lash out on people who don’t deserve it.”

But how does one grieve the person that made their life… unlivable? Through rage. Rage in its purest form: unfiltered, erratic, sizzling. It’s unrelenting and unforgiving and holds no bounds, prepared to be released at any moment, no matter who’s present. Your father’s home has seen it all at this point: glass shattering on walls, screaming into the closet where all his clothes hang, punching the pillow he slept on every night.

Everything was exactly where your father left it, and instead of crying, you relinquished hell on the home he left in your name. You’re still surprised it wasn’t engulfed in flames after his funeral.

“I just…” Harsh sniffles from you, desperately wiping your tears with damp hoodie sleeves, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing feels… real anymore.”

“You’re real, baby.” This is the most delicate Dr. Brown has ever sounded, tone hushed. “Your feelings are real, your pain is real, but so is everyone else’s. You have to remember that.”

You’re listening so intently, “What I'd suggest…” You already know what she’s going to say, and you’re petrified. You sag into your seat.

You owe those two girls an apology.

Flashes of green race across your memory. The meadows are back, and they’re haunting.

“Three.” You whisper.

“Hm?”

“I owe…” A heavy exhale. “Three girls an apology.”

OCTOBER, 2013

Ellie’s officially fifteen. She’d give anything to be home right now.

She was so happy before she left that morning. Her dad woke her up with a heaping stack of iced chocolate chip pancakes that were the size of her head and happy birthday candles. Laughter echoed through their household, following as they cascaded down the stairs to blast music. Neighbors be damned. Everything was perfect. Up until she was dressed and ready and in the car.

Ellie’s dad held her hand the entire drive. He didn’t comment on her white knuckles as she gripped his digits when he kissed the back of her hand. It took her a second to exit the car when they arrived, so he said the usual. You got this, kiddo. The extra encouragement provided a boost, for sure. She was able to get to class on time.

Every time a wad of paper or a sharpened pencil hits the back of her head, she regrets not begging her dad to let her stay home. She’s grown used to the snickers, the shoulder chucks in the hallway, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

English concludes and she’s silently packing when her bag gets yanked out of her hand.

Missed you, stalker, A kid who Ellie doesn’t fucking remember snarks with a dark grin. Where’s that book you always have—

Tyler! The teacher’s voice booms, the class filling with oooh’s, That's enough. Give her stuff back now.

C’mooon, I can’t talk to my girlfriend? The remaining students burst into laughter and Ellie’s face burns, swallowing the lump that’s forming in her throat.

How about I call home? Tyler sucks his teeth at the threat while his friends laugh, dropping Ellie’s things on her desk with little care. She wastes no time to flee, shoving her earpods in and synching each trembling breath with the heavy percussion.

Her dad comes to pick her up an hour later.

A light tap on your shoulder tears your attention away from the lengthy equations on the board. Numbers and letters? Your fucking ass; Absolutely not!

You turn to Amaya, who’s smiling wide, shoving a folded note in your hand, rushing you to open it. Your brows crease as you face forward, unraveling the nest crevices and met with… hearts? Glitter? Pretty penmanship? No man wrote this, thank God.

Hi. You’re really pretty and nice. Would you like to sit with me during lunch?

Ceniyah

… Ceniyah? … Thee Cece? The person you’ve been obsessed with since middle school? What the fuck is going on!

You turn back to Amaya who’s giggling into her palm, catching glimpses of a shy Ceniyah, who keeps her head down, her beaded braids shielding her face. Your face burns and you jerk back forward. It’s not a fucking prank, what the fuck, what the fuck—

Class drags like a bitch, but the bell finally rings, and everyone hustles, shoving books in their bags, running to the cafeteria. You refuse to move, though. Your iron is low and the person you’re in love with asked you to crunch on celery sticks with her. Alone. You're bound to pass out the second you breathe wrong.

Hi.

You nearly fly out of your seat at her soft tone. She sounds like an angel. You’re going to die. You jump out of your chair and… take in the beauty that she is. She smells like heaven and her skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight. You hope she can’t see your acne scars… and she’s shorter than you. Are minors allowed to get married?

H-Hey, You hold up the pink piece of construction paper, I, uh, got your note… It’s beautiful. Her smile shines brighter than the sun. She shakes her head and the chains locked on her clips tinker like fairies.

Are you kiddin’ me! That mural you helped create was crazy. That was beautiful.

I love you.

Your eyes go wide. Did you say that? You don’t think you said that… Her smile turns confused and you realize you said that. You almost stab yourself with your pencil. I mean, like, I love how you appreciate art! Like, not m-many people… do that, and stuff…

She smirks and your heart squeezes with delight, And stuff? She inquires with an arched brow.

I’d appreciate it if you ladies headed to lunch so I can enjoy mine. Your teacher interrupts, And the next note that gets passed earns a detention.

A soft, floral-scented hand closes around your wrist, over your beaded bracelets and charms. You grab your bag with your last remaining strength and follow her like a puppy, her flowy skirt brushing against the bottoms of your jean-clad legs.

Best… day… ever.

PRESENT

Ellie needs to start doing finger stretches. Her hands are starting to hurt every time she clocks out.

She’s sitting at her desk, re-editing the infant photos she took earlier today. The twin girls from earlier were absolute angels, smiling and cooing up at the camera behind their matching pink pacifiers. She's never thought about having children… ever, but it might not be so bad—

Meow! Meow, meow! MeowMEOW—

… Nevermind. Kids are not for her. She can barely get this one to act right. The pictures are cute, though.

“What’s the matter, mama?” She coos down at a doe-eyed kit-kat. “Hungies?” Pickle jumps up and into her lap, staring at the bright screen that displays Ellie’s editing software. Ellie smirks down at her, “What, you wanna try?”

Pickle blinks up at her. No thoughts, just kibble.

She decides to save her progress on the photos and give her munchkin some love. The few minutes of head pats and runs are cut short when she gets a pop-up from her email. She pays it no mind at first, but she zeroes in on the subject with furrowed brows. It simply reads hi… an overdue apology. Ellie blinks a couple times before suspecting spam… But who the fuck names a spam email something that cryptic? What the fuck?

Ellie opens it… and her body goes numb as her eyes follow each word.

hi, ellie. i’m not sure how to start this off, but i hope it’s decent enough to sit through. i apologize in advance.

you probably don’t remember me, but we had statistics and used to live together in college. it was only for two months (i think, kind of a blur) but… yeah. i hope it semi-kinda rings a bell. hi again.

this is a very random time to reach out, and i understand any confusion, but i just wanted to apologize for everything. i was terrible to you. i'd never thought i'd become a judgmental person, but i did. i mocked you, i spoke behind your back, and probably ruined your last year of school, and i carry that regret with me everywhere i go. i’m not sure if i'll ever be able to express my remorse properly.

i’m trying to do better. i want to do better, but i can’t unless i express it.

you never have to talk to me again, and i understand if you don’t, but if you ever want to have a conversation with me, i’d be more than willing to come wherever you are to do so. or we can exchange numbers if it’s less of a hassle. i see how busy you are.

thank you if you took out any time to read this jumbled mess of thoughts. i’m very nervous. i hope you continue to live beautifully.

sincerely, someone trying to start fresh.

(p.s. i swear i'm not a stalker. you’re really popping on instagram. congratulations on everything.)

Ellie wastes no time and unplugs her entire PC, the screen going black. Her heart is racing and water surfaces above her pupils. Pickle purrs in her arms as she backs her rolling chair from under the desk and scurries into her bedroom. She sets the kitty down on her bed and clutches her chest. She forgets to count, forgets to breathe as detailed images of you scatter in her head.

You… what the fuck.

Ellie feels her hands start to shake, so she squeezes them in a fist as she paces. Her gasps are choked and she’s spiraling into panic; She can’t unsee your teary, brown eyes, how you tried to mask your sadness when she stated she was leaving. She was able to convince herself that she’d never see you again, and it took her so long to be okay with that. She’s grown to be okay without your presence.

The burnt trail she left behind has reignited again. She's sinking, drowning, just like she did years ago.

WEEK FIVE WITH DR. BROWN

“How do you feel now? Be honest.”

“… Still shitty… but alright, I guess.” You’re hoarse when you speak.

“Elaborate. What does alright mean for you?”

You pick at your fingers, “I’m not… I don’t wanna, like, kill myself… if that’s what you’re asking. The ball’s in their court now, I guess. I’m… I’m just alright.” Your shoulders bounce in a shrug.

“Has anyone answered?” Your head shakes in denial. “Don’t let that jeopardize your progress. However they react to you contacting them is not on you anymore. They either accept it or they don’t, and they’re valid in both options.”

Dr. Brown pauses and eyes you skeptically, “What?” You ask.

She shrugs, “One person isn’t on your making amends list.”

Your reply is immediate, “Probably for a reason.”

“Do you remember what you told me during our first meeting?”

Irritation boils under your skin. “I see where you’re taking this conversation and I’m not messin’ wit’ it… Respectfully. Next topic, please.”

Her hands raise in surrender, “Ay’, I’m not here to make you do diddly-squat. Merely providing perspective.”

“Right.”

“You did beat that girl to a pulp, though. I will say— “

“It’s what she deserved.” You say flatly. “She… humiliated me, and when her bitch left, she tried to come back to me. Get me pregnant— “

“Chile, I’m not tryna hear all that— “

You scoff and fall back in your seat, cushions and pillows molding with the curve of your spine. Dina bringing her happy ass to your father’s home after his death was one of the most infuriating experiences of your entire goddamn life. The second you opened the door, you were met with wildfire and permanently scarred. The least you could do is give her a fucking black eye.

What you did after that… you’ll never regret. Ever. She can blast you on Twitter all she wants; She’s dead to you.

Dr. Brown sips on her black tea with a pointed stare, “Yes, ma’am?” You say sarcastically.

“Watch that tone,” That look in her eye… she meant that. You’ll be quiet. “She was wrong for what she did, but you ain’t innocent.”

“I’m sorry, but I disagree. That one… she can choke. I don’t care.” Dr. Brown is disappointed by your answer, but frankly, you don’t care. That ship sailed and sank like the goddamn Titanic.

She seems disappointed in your answer, but she lets it go. “… Alright, then.”

On the brink of a heart attack perfectly explains how Ellie’s been feeling for the past week. The number of times she’s reread your fucking email is genuinely embarrassing, but she’s weighing her options: she either blocks you or accepts your offer. She's never been so conflicted in her life. She desperately needs a fucking break.

She never takes Saliyah and Yuki up on their offers to turn up on Friday nights, but her rampant emotions backed her into a corner… and now she’s tipsy on the dancefloor of some rinky-dink club. One night of release wouldn’t hurt.

Ellie really wishes she had a grilled cheese. They’re quite delicious… Probably not the thoughts she should be having with a hot older woman pushing back on her to fucking T-Pain, but she’s hungry! Liquor gives her the appetite of a fucking rhinosaurous, what can she say!

Saliyah and Yuki are handling business for her, though, giving the lady’s ass very encouraging slaps every time their hips connect. Ellie probably looks like a fucking dumbass as she pumps her fist in the air like an old man, but she can’t remember the last time she partied. Sue her!

It’s not until the woman stands upright, her sweaty, nearly bare back pressed against Ellie’s button-up, an arm coming up to loop around her neck, slightly shifting her bow tie that Ellie freezes, her fists clenching even tighter in the air. Her core gives a sharp squeeze when she feels sticky, glossed lips imprint on her throat. Her eyes bulge as she frantically searches for guidance from her friends, but they’re no fucking help, as usual! What the hell is miming sex and eating pussy going to do for her? She can barely breathe.

Her friends shoot her finger guns in encouragement before heading back to the bar. A tongue darts out to lap up her anxiety-induced sweat, and her body tremors, her hands untwisting to land on the girl’s jean covered hips for leverage. She feels teeth beam on her neck and her entire body flushes.

“You’re adorable!” Ellie hears her scream over the blasting music. Her tongue jumbles as she searches for a reply, but nothing leaves. She just drops her head onto the woman’s shoulder… and nearly flat lines when she eyes the cleavage sitting taut in her halter top. Her heart’s pulses synch with the ones from her clit when the woman giggles. Ellie’s ninety-five-point six percent sure that her nipples are poking through her shirt.

Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek when the woman spins to face her, chest to chest, noses almost touching. The woman’s gaze drops to her neck, cunning as a fox as she undoes the first button of her shirt before unraveling the loop of her bow tie. She leans in, wafts of cinnamon flooding Ellie’s nostrils.

“Come to the bathroom with me?” Ellie’s nodding before the lady can conclude the purr in her ear. Her hand gets snagged and she’s being dragged through the hot crowd, all the way to the back of the club and shoved into the giant restroom. She finally takes in the goddess in front of her: dark hair, plump lips, pretty lashes. The wrinkles by her eyes and laugh lines are sending dopamine alarms in her brain.

Ellie receives one gentle kiss that makes her hips

grind forward before she hears, “You ever been tied up?” The raven-haired woman mumbles against her mouth. She whines, cheeks burning, “N-No,” she whispers.

Her perfect teeth shine, “You wanna be?”

Does she? “I — yeah, I guess?”

“Put your wrists together,” she hums and Ellie does. Her own bow tie gets looped and twisted around her nimble hands. The woman drops to her knees in front of the trembling girl, massaging her thighs over her jeans, planting kisses all over them, “You gotta name, honey?”

“Ellie… M’Ellie…” The woman’s hands creep up to unbutton her jeans, the soft hiss of the zipper, “What’s yours?” She only receives a shrug. “Whatever you want it to be.” Her jeans are yanked down seconds later, her… fucking Cartoon Network boxers drenched all the way through. The woman giggles and calls Ellie a cutie pie and her clit jumps.

Her manicured nails hook under the band of Ellie’s boxers, slowly inching them down until her soft, sticky hairs are on display and her boxers are around her knees, “Gonna let me eat this pussy out, angel?”

Ellie’s vision whites out. Only for a second, “Y-Yes, ma’am…”

Ellie’s sopping lips and pulled apart, her red, throbbing clit on display for the fucking witch in front of her. “You’re so fuckin’ cute. Anybody ever play with this pretty cunt?” Reality crashes down on her like a boulder as images of you touching her, kissing her flash before her eyes. Her jaw slacks as her words flurry.

“Just — fuck, just one time.”

“Yeah?” She coos, massaging gentle circles on her clit, “I'm your lucky second?” Ellie nods frantically. Her knees buckle when a sharp slap lands on her pussy, “Ffuck—“ The strokes on her clit are punishing, fast and non-stopping, the woman’s teeth gritted when she asks, “Steppin’ out on your girl, huh?”

Ellie moans around her denial while her cheeks glow, “N— agh, s-shit, wasn’t m’girl—“

“Yeah? She touch you like me?” The woman snickers, and Ellie burns red. She’s already so close and she can’t fucking think, “Think m’cummin’—“ Ellie slurs, her tongue thick in her mouth as her walls squeeze down, desperately trying to pull something, anything in as deep as possible.

“Can feel it. Tell me when.” But Ellie couldn’t. Her orgasm crashes into her like a fucking truck and her body falls forward, legs trembling as it wracks through her in harsh waves. The thighs that try to close are forced open, sharp stings radiating off her skin from the nails that pierce them. Strong suctions attack Ellie’s clit and she sobs, practically riding the woman’s face. Vibrations from satisfied hums stimulate her further, and she swears she’s going to pass out.

The pleasure builds all over again and her eyes squeeze shut, her hips thrusting forward and into the woman’s mouth. Her optics cycle into her skull when the space right below her clit gets stimulated just right and she rides that edge all over again, but this time, it’s stronger. The woman’s groaning in her pussy like she’s starving, and Ellie can barely garble her warning of another orgasm.

She squeaks when a gentle finger slides between her walls and she wishes it felt like yours did. Ellie’s bound hands entangle in the soft locks and pull, pushing her head any which way to guide her where she needs. She doesn’t register that she’s whining your name until the woman asks, “Tha’s your girl?” Right on her pussy, and Ellie tips.

She’s so loud when she explodes all over this stranger’s face, wetness coating her inner thighs, dripping all the way down to the bottoms locked around her ankles. You take refuge in the nasty side of her brain as she envisions you between her legs, you making her feel this good. Something about the way you touch her… She thinks it's impossible to replicate till this day.

When Ellie comes down, she falls against the door, relishing in the steady kitten licks on her twitching bud. One last gentle kiss, and the woman separates from the mess between Ellie’s thighs, chest wet with her juices.

“Good, honey?”

Ellie blinks like she’s risen from the dead, short hair clinging to her forehead. She shoots the woman two thumbs up and she chuckles, untying Ellie’s hands and helping her back onto her feet. The woman helps her redress after she cleans herself up, and Ellie’s nose twitches when her own stickiness latches onto her clothes. Her arms fall back to her sides when her belt gets secured.

She’s winded when she finally speaks, “Um… thanks…” How the fuck does Ellie say goodbye to someone who sucked her soul out?

“No problem…” The woman’s warm hands are soft as they push away damp strands from Ellie’s forehead. The freckled girl nearly purrs. Call her Pickle at this point.

Ellie steps away from the door so that the fucking seductress can exit. The woman backs away and unlocks the door with a gentle smile. “You should text her.”

Ellie’s stomach churns. “… What.”

“The girl that’s not your girl.” That’s the last thing she says before stepping out. Ellie’s heart plummets when her eyes lock with Saliyah’s, then Yuki’s. Her friends gawk at her disheveled appearance, lipstick stains littered all over her button up. Ellie’s not nearly as embarrassed as she should be; All she can think about is you.

“I think I’m in trouble.” Ellie states mindlessly.

“Doesn’t look like it.” Yuki snickers and pulls Ellie out of the bathroom. She hides her face when she’s met with the long line of people desperately needing to piss.

WEEK SEVEN WITH DOCTOR BROWN.

“You look bright.”

You feel brighter. Just a little bit. You’ve finally gotten your locs retwisted.

“Amaya texted me back.” Dr. Brown seems impressed at your statement, happy for you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“Yeah? What’d Ms. Producer say?”

“She, um… She wants to have dinner.”

“Oh? And what’d you say?”

“I said of course and then sobbed until I got here.” Dr. Brown chuckles, “When’s the big meal?”

“In two days. I got a hotel near where she’s at, so… Yeah. Probably won’t see me for a little.”

“Good for you, honey.” She says proudly, “Heard from any others?” Your head shakes. It’s not surprising that Abby and Ellie haven’t reached out to you. They don’t owe you any closure, even though it took you a while to accept your karma.

“Progress is progress, nonetheless.” Her tone reverts back to stern, “Remember… when you see that girl, don’t expect anything to come from it. She’s going out of her way to speak with you, not the other way around.”

Your head bows shamefully. You're incredibly nervous to see your best friend… if you deserve to call her that anymore. Anxiety isn’t foreign to you, but you’re anticipating the worst for your meeting. You’d give anything to mend your relationship with Amaya, but how’re you going to be able to overcome the guilt of abandoning her?

You can’t remember the last time you went to the campus coffee shop.

When Amaya sent you her new address in the middle of your old college city, you sobbed for half an hour. You’re not sure why considering the entirety of your graduating class is gone (hopefully in hell); It’s a mix of emotions coming back here. The baristas that used to work here have been replaced with new bushy-tailed freshmen with under eye bags. The coffee isn’t the best, but it’s oddly nostalgic. You feel fucking old just looking at their bright customer service smiles.

Your attention gets snagged away from your steaming cup when a sharp gasp echoes from behind you, nearly spilling your drink all over your flannel when someone calls your name. Anxiety spikes in your gut when you see…

Who is that?

“Oh my goodness! Sweetheart!” An older woman with gray hair and a cardigan places her hand on your shoulder and your eyes bulge out of your skull. “It’s so good to see you!”

What the fuck is going on? “You... You, too, uh… ma’am!” You put on the most believable smile you can. Is your memory really this fucking bad?

“Students don’t usually stick around after this long! Our major was pretty small, you know how it is.” Major… Students… Graphic design… Professor! Your memory clicks but her name doesn’t. What the fuck is this woman’s name! You feel like a cunt all over again!

“I’d love to catch up if you’re sticking around!”

“Um… yeah, of course.” Her smile is bright when she enters the line. Relief floods through you when she gets to the service counter and one of the baristas says good morning, Professor Meyers!

You silently thank the Lord.

“What brings you back to town, honey!” Professor Meyers asks excitedly.

“Um… just missin’ school, I guess.” You lie. Fuck this school.

She swallows her sip of tea before pausing, “Wow. First time I heard that. I didn’t see you at graduation!”

Your chest concaves and your face burns, “I, uh. I didn’t graduate. I dropped out.” Professor Meyers' expression drops, pity written all over her face.

“Wh— Why?”

You shut down her interrogation, “I just… stuff happened. I couldn’t handle everything all at once.” Her eyes sadden and she places a comforting hand on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry, honey. Whatever it was… I hope it’s okay, now.”

“Getting through it.” You shrug, feigning nonchalance. The air is suddenly suffocating.

“Y’know… if you’re interested…” Professor Meyers’ tone is suggesting. Your brow quirks at the woman plotting in front of you.

“Some of the art profs are always looking for some extra help for the introductory courses. Your rough drafts were always pretty spectacular.”

Your body burns. “Thank you.”

She smiles and reaches into her bag in the other chair, pulling out a small card and handing it to you. “This is my contact information. I can set you an interview with Professor Ronson if you’d wanna join the little alumni support team.”

You accept her card, “But I’m not… I didn’t graduate— “

“Oh, hush now! If you go to college, you’re an alumni! These exclusive rules are outdated!” Professor Meyers stands with her bag and tea. “I gotta run, but please consider it! It could be a great marketing opportunity for you!”

You're left to simmer in your thoughts as she rushes out of the cafe. You didn’t even have the chance to tell her that you haven’t touched a canvas since your father’s funeral.

You waltz into the upscale restaurant with tied lungs. Prepping an outfit for tonight was a hassle; You were forced to rummage through your father’s closet for suitable attire. You can’t remember the last time you made a purchase for yourself.

You feel out of place standing here with the… upper class. They’re dressed to the nines and it’s incredibly intimidating. Your eyes cast downward to your wrinkly shirt and blazer; Why didn’t you bring a fucking iron?

“How can I help you, miss?”

Your eyes bulge when they lock with the host’s and gut churns with discomfort. Your legs wobble closer to the counter, “I— there’s… reservation…”

The host stares at you with utter confusion, “Oh, sure! What’s the name?”

“Um… Amaya— “

“Ms. Robinson?” The host’s eyes fill with glitter, “Oh my gosh, when I saw her walk in earlier, I was like, no way she’s actually here. This is crazy! But it was really her! I couldn’t believe— “

Another host interjects, “My apologies, ma’am! She’s a bit, uh, excited. Your table is right this way.” The host begins walking, and your feet move on autopilot, “Would you like a menu?”

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You won’t be able to keep anything down anyway.

You move through bustling walkways, ears filled with bouts of obnoxious laughter and corny jokes with each table you pass.

Your heart stutters in your chest when you see the isolated leather and rosewood booth where Amaya sits, her back to you. There’s two glasses and a bottle of… something on the table.

“Ms. Robinson! Your guest is here!”

Amaya, filled glass in hand, cranes her neck and meets your flitting gaze. Her eyes are stagnant, unmoving, and your nerves wrack. She looks fucking immaculate with the slit in her black dress, smokey makeup, heeled

shoes. She’s dressed down for a fucking funeral. Yours.

You’re actually not ready to see her. You’re not ready at all.

“You want a glass?”

Amaya’s tone is cold. Colder than the dripping neck of the bottle right in front of you. “N-No thank you.”

She scoffs laughter around the rim, “Shocking.” You scramble for a reply, anything to say to the woman oozing impatience in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. She sets her glass down with an unsteady clink.

“You said that already.” She states, brown eyes sharp. “Why are you?”

You scratch at your ear, trying to mask the tremors in your fingertips, “Because… I — I wasn’t…”

“I don’t hear from you for months,” She spits, “And then I get a phone call from my drunk best friend screamin’ at me, tellin’ me that I fucking left her to grieve by herself… because I’m selfish and money hungry… Right?”

Angry tears sizzle in Amaya’s eyes as she continues, “And I still come and visit you… only to get a door slammed in my fuckin’ face.”

You’re completely frozen; You can barely look her in the eye. Your hands are clenched together under the table, nausea creeping up your throat. “I… there’s no excuse for what I did— “

Amaya’s eyes are void, “Why did you do it.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” you rush out, desperate. You’re losing her, “He — I was just — I couldn’t control myself and I screamed and yelled and blamed everyone for what happened. I was just so mad and I couldn’t stop— “

“Abby called me two days ago.”

You gasp, “S-She did—?”

“She told me she hated you.” Amaya says plainly. The remaining shards of your heart dissipate like dust, leaving your mouth when you whimper, “O-Okay.” Tears stream down your cheeks and neck, harsh sniffles filling the small corner of the restaurant. “She hasn’t, um… never mind.” That’s why she hasn’t reached out, you suppose. Well deserved.

“I don't… hate you, you know that, right?”

You sob, palms in your eyes, “S’okay if you do. I deserve it.”

She shrugs, “I don’t. I’m just very disappointed in you.” You nod in agreement, in understanding. You accept that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see someone you considered a sister.

“I’m so sorry, May— “

“M’gonna head out. I’m,” She wipes a tear and grabs her bag, throwing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “I… I don’t hate you.” You cry as you watch Amaya gather herself, stand, and leave without another word. You heave and attempt to dry your face with the fresh napkin but they won’t stop flowing.

It’s difficult, accepting that you’re undeserving. That you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you can’t escape. It’s dark and cold and you’re desperate for comfort but it never comes because you chased it all away. You eye the tall bottle that sweats; Very tempting, but you leave it where it stands. The blame for your downfall is yours to take; The only reward you can receive now is from your upkeep. To dig yourself out from beneath the maggot-infested dirt. To resurface and recover what you can.

You’re unsure how long you sit here crying. Devastation sets hard in your tummy when you stand to leave the restaurant, ignoring the judgmental stares from the annoying, old fuckers that wouldn’t stop glaring at you.

The air outside is fresh and soothing as you walk, right past your parked car. Past the young people mingling and taking pictures. Past the girl doing graffiti on the old building across the street. Something beats in your chest when you eye her spray paint cans, brushes in her hand, the bright colors all over her bare arms. Her passion is evident, even from a distance, and you miss that. That feeling that takes over when you create something that no one else can replicate. Her style is unique to her just like yours is to you.

Color sparks in your soul for the first time in a year, and you know what you have to do tomorrow morning.

taggiesss yasss n slayyyy @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl

#in frame ✎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #black!reader #black!oc #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year

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Help Save the FrogFamily Home

This community I’ve built has been so incredibly generous to me over the years. Part of me feels I don’t deserve to ask for another thing. But I am facing desperation and I don’t know what else to do.

I’ve had a rough couple of years. First, my beloved corgi, Otis, passed away. Then my mom’s health took a turn. I had to take care of her all on my own. And eventually, COVID took her from me. Then my dad’s body began to fail him. I had to be his full-time caretaker. I had to watch his body and mind slowly deteriorate until he finally passed away in March.

I wish I could just take some time to mourn my parents and heal my soul…

But life decided against that.

We tried to make plans so that I would be taken care of after my father’s death. That I would be able to stay in our family home for as long as I desired. But those plans are falling apart at the moment.

Lawyers and probate and debt collectors, oh my.

There is a chance we can get everything sorted, but all indicators show that it could take a while before that happens. Possibly a long while. And my disability payments aren’t even enough to cover the mortgage–much less all the other bills and expenses.

I need to buy time.

Literally.

I need to extend my financial runway long enough to get things sorted. The longer that runway, the better the chances are I can figure all of this out.

I need time to sell all of my parents’ valuable belongings. I need time to fix up our very large separated garage so I can rent it out as a workshop or storage. I need time to fix up the house so it is suitable for a roommate. And I need time to work with social security so I can possibly find financial independence for life.

Unfortunately, without that time, I could face homelessness. I’m sure I could find a place to stay for a while, but I would lose the only home I’ve ever known. The home my mom and dad spent a lifetime fixing up and perfecting. The place in this world I feel most safe and comfortable.

I’ve already lost so much recently. I’m not sure I could bear losing my home as well.

If I lost my home I’d probably have to live on couches for up to two years until government housing was available. And then I’d have to spend the rest of my days in a small single room apartment. I know there are people who would feel lucky to have that, but I’d really prefer to stay in my house if possible. And I don’t think anyone would blame me for wanting that. Especially when all I need to make that happen is a little time.

So I am asking all of you to help buy me some time.

Every $1200 equals another month I have to sort things out. I honestly don’t know how much time I need. I would hope 3 to 6 months would be enough. But the wheels of bureaucracy can move frustratingly slow. So the more time I have, the better the chances are I can save my home and secure my livelihood.

Thank you so much for reading this.

Check out the GoFundMe page here.

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lvrcpid · 1 year

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imagine being neteyams twin and dying along with him.

includes: gn!reader. they/them pronouns. neteyams death..AGAIN! getting “shot”. blood. death. grief. the afterlife. neteyamxreader (platonic!) i totally pulled this concept from my ass so if it doesn’t make a lick of sense i am SO SORRY. ANGSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT mwah love y’all.

in na’vi culture it’s unusual to carry twins. the na’vi body isn’t really meant to carry two babies at one time. but somehow your mother did it. although the pregnancy was difficult, she powered through and gave birth to two babies. neteyam and (y/n). you had come out a little bit after neteyam, making him the oldest. watching the two newborns sleep cozily in their moms arms made jake well up with tears. his little family was starting.

another thing in na’vi culture which goes unsaid is when a twin dies. the other one dies as well. they feel and see eachothers pain too. one time when neteyam got cut, you also felt the pain of his cut, the gash leaving a scar on both of your bodies. in the same place.

the na’vi people don’t understand this predicament. it just happened. the one thing they couldn’t understand. while jake and neytiri were happy and felt blessed by this, they also worried.

if we lose one kid. we lose another.

your parents had informed you of this many times while growing up with your brother. sugar coating it seeing as though you two were still too young to understand the concept of death. all you knew was ‘if neteyam gets hurt. i get hurt too’ vise versa.

you both did a relatively good job keeping eachother safe until the sky people arrived and that fateful day struck your family, tarnishing their hearts forever.

—————————————————————————————

you felt a sharp pang in your chest, a feeling of dread and sluggishness consumed your body like the plague, brushing it off as something minor. but when you couldn’t shake the feeling. something hurt but you didn’t know what. you knew something was wrong.

“(y/n)! come quick it’s neteyam!” your youngest brother, lo’ak called to you frantically, he knew since neteyam was hit that you were as well. you stood up from your seat and immediately felt dizzy, feeling a substance trickle down your chest and down your back, sending chills down your spine. you were bleeding. there was a coin sized hole that wasn’t there before. that’s when it hit you.

neteyam had been shot.

neteyam was dying. and so were you.

panic sky rocketed through your body as you stumbled out to your family, your mother quickly scooping you and laying you next to your brother. your health declining rapidly as blood began to pool your mouth.

jake stared in horror. there was nothing he could do for his kids. he knew this would eventually happen. but he didn’t think it would happen this soon. the sight of you red at the mouth with a wound, ironically matching your twin, made him cringe. this was unfair. he couldn’t process one. now he’s being forced to process two upcoming losses just because it was the way of the na’vi people.

you leaned into your brother as everything was moving. so fast. just a few minutes ago you were making bracelets for everyone. now you’re on the rocks dying with your brother. you cursed eywa in your head, cursing how this was unfair to you and neteyam. you couldn’t even give proper goodbyes first.

neteyam turned his head over to you before letting out a weak smile “im sorry..”. you opened your mouth to speak but was quickly silenced by the spew of blood that erupted from your throat, neteyam feeling the warm metallic substance cloud his throat.

“mom im scared..” you turned to your mom while you faintly heard neteyam whisper something to your father about wanting to go home. then..

there was nothing.

—————————————————————————————

“(y/n)!” you shot up in a panic. it was white. everywhere. when your sight adjusted you saw your older brother in front of you. “neteyam..where..” he quickly shushed you and brought you to a glowing figure, her warm smile filling your body up with the warmth of a mothers embrace.

it was eywa.

you and neteyam quickly bowed before she let out a small hum of approval. “you both have strong hearts. one soul. but very strong and different hearts” her voice was smooth like honey against your ears.

one soul? you always knew you and your brother were attached at the hip but not like this. ‘one soul?’ you thought to yourself but the goddess in front of you was quick with her response. “yes. one soul. you both have one soul. soulfully connected. if one part of the soul leaves..” she looks over to neteyam “then the other has to go along with it.” she looked over to you.

oh.

after the conversation, you and neteyam walked hand in hand in the afterlife, admiring what eywa has to offer. “(y/n) im sorry.” neteyam spoke , breaking the comfortable silence. “it’s okay..it’s not your fault. let’s just spend the rest of eternity happy okay?” neteyam giving a small nod before pulling you towards a river, pushing you in.

life isn’t fair. you know this. but at least you have your brother.

how everyone reacted. (part 2 ish)

a.n // y’all probably hate me after this but OH WELL. i just wanna say thank you for all the love and support on my most recent stories. your comments and reblogs truly make my day 10x better. i plan on doing a lot more so thank you again - sae 🥹🫶🏾

#avatar #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #sully family x reader

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lyomeii · 9 months

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a mother’s care

-> warnings: yandere themes, afab! reader, death mentions, lightly spoiler from the manga, reader’s a mother and a little tired from the sorcerer worlds, reader can be seeing either as the biological mother or adoptive.

-> request by @rouecentric lyo!! lyo!! i saw that your requests were open and that you write for jjk!! so i wanted to ask if you could write how the first years (and maybe gojo??) would react to a reader that is not only yuji's mom, but also one of the best sorcerers of all time that could be toe to toe in a fight with gojo, but retired to take care of and raise yuji, but returned to being one because of her son's predicament? feel free to remove any characters you don't want to write and have a nice morning/day/night!!!!!

-> a/n: a request from roue themselves? let me do it instead of my tasks. so this was really nice to write it and im happy for it turned out, so I’m hope you will enjoy it, roue. and don’t forget to take care of yourself too :)

❥ everyone in the sorcerer community knew about you, not only one of the most powerful sorcerer of the modern times, but also a beloved person known. a lovely woman that put herself in danger to protect others, the many time when you got hurt by doing it brought you a few scars in your skin, yet it was not enough to stop the many marriage offers from the many sorcerers family, in fact, it only made more and more offers come at you and yet, all of them ended rejected by you.

❥ there is no denying that you are an important figure and once you completely vanished from it once you graduate from jujutsu high, many wonder where did you go. could it be that you were killed? kidnapped? those were plausible theories of course, but actually you just want to become a better mother.

❥ you got into a relationship with a great man, who not only loved you a lot, but treated you like a goddess. and with the relationship between the two of you becoming stronger, a baby entered the family. living the three of you was a calm and sweet life, nothing wrong was going on and yuji was growing like any children, yet you could feel something off about it.

❥ maybe it was the fact he was stronger than most children, i mean, yuji kicked the ball and almost took down a tree once he was ten. another occasion was that time he lift the coach by himself one day prior his fourteen birthday. however, you to ignore it, though that he was just a stronger boy for his age. his father, (before you become a single mother) did said that yuji is just a special boy, do that’s must it, right?

❥ his father was right, yuji is a special boy. once you received a call from a familiar friend who immediately request your presence at jujutsu high in behalf of your son’s recently events. arriving at that place brought many memories and seeing your beloved son inside that room, hearing of his future execution once he swallow sukuna’s fingers from the higher up and make things worse, his grandfather died just a few days ago.

❥ things aren’t easier, that’s why you return to being a sorcerer. yuji, well, was really shocked and surprised by your reveal, include of the others experience sorcerers talked about your past actions during your high school years. “you are so powerful!” his words and sparkling eyes are more than enough to make things better. too be closer with him, you decided to move to a residence nearby the school, not wanting to lose a moment in his life.

❥ someone who was way happier with your return was gojo. he literally hugged you once you confirmed that you would be staying around to take care of yuji, gaining even more hugs from him. even after years and incidents, he still almost the same boy you helped train years ago. the only difference being he is tall as a door now. making you feel so small and young even though you are older than him.

❥ the others were also quite happy to see you around once again, nanami looked at you like a ghost from the past and took a while before he gained courage to talk with you. a smile in your face was so sweet as you two interact and when yuji enters the conversation, the three of you look so cute together.

❥ now the students are shocked with your presence. none of them knew expected to yuji has a mother or the fact you are special grade sorcerer like their teacher. nobara was the loudest one to introduce herself while the others glare at her for not giving any personal space. maki was intrigued by the rumors of how excellent are you with swords and daggers, asking if you are willingly to train her for a few times.

❥ it’s clear the students have a soft for you despite being way more powerful than them, even yuji, the same boy you raised since he was little has become quite protective of you. ignoring how soft they are with you, it’s nice to taught them during school hours. making them learning new way to protect themselves is a nice way to bond, slightly making you an unofficial teacher at tokyo high.

❥ as times goes on, it’s clear how things are becoming more dangerous than ever before. yuji sometimes loses control over sukuna and hurts people over it, making you even more concerned about his state. sometimes, you wonder if you just could grab him and run away from all this mess. yet, you fear the many consequences over it and can only dream about it on your own thoughts.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere yuji itadori #yandere gojo satoru #yandere platonic #yandere platonic x reader #afab reader #yandere x female reader #x female reader #female y/n

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

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Hiraeth: 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You had always been his, and no one could take you away from him. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Slight age gap, Murder intention, Mention of death, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: I’m in my Jin-I-miss-you era and I’m taking u all with me. Idk yet if this will be two-shot. Do tell me your thoughts 💜

Masterlist

“I’m going to marry you.”

The nine-year old Seokjin lost his concentration upon hearing your declaration. He blinked, and all of a sudden, the game signaled that he lost. His hold on the game controller slackened. It gently hit the carpeted floor. He hated losing. It was game over all because of you.

“I’m never gonna marry you,” he said so meanly that he was sure you would finally stop following him around. But the five year-old you merely grinned, several teeth missing and announced that he would marry you. You were sure of it.

“Will you stop following me?!” Jin seethed, glaring at your small form as you didn’t mind his anger and continued walking behind him eagerly. Jin was at the stage where all he wanted was to move, to burn the excess energy. He was into sports lately. And because he was fond of it, you were, too. Wherever he went, you’d follow. It was like he had another shadow besides his own.

It was annoying.

But it was also comforting.

On times when he’d fall, knees and hands bruised or bloodied, there you were, quietly telling him it was going to be fine, gently washing the blood off of him. You were always there to help him stand up again. You always carried around cute bandaids. He liked to think that you carried it for him.

He was twelve now, and you still followed him around. He even told his mother about you, but she merely giggled and told him that you were the cutest little girl she had ever seen. He should have known she wouldn’t side with him. After all, your father was his father’s best friend. This was why you were always around…and he was used to your presence that when you couldn’t attend some of his family’s event, he would sulked. But the young Seokjin couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why he hated when you were gone.

Yet, he was irritated by your presence.

He saw you as a nuisance, but you saw him as someone who was larger than life. In your young mind, he was the epitome of perfect. He looked like a prince, and his family treated him as such. You wanted nothing but to be his princess. And so, you spent your younger days following him around. You saw him through all the stages in his life, until he became that lanky, yet sporty teenager.

He was fifteen and you were eleven. You knew he was even more irritated with you than glad that you were with his family during their vacations. His mom treated you like her own daughter, saying that you were the daughter she never had, and you were only too glad to have a mother figure. On some vacations, Jin would be kind and played with you with the sand. On some vacations, he would watch out for you whenever you strayed too far on the sea.

On some days though, he scoffed at your presence.

Like right now.

You looked at the entrance of your school with mild confusion, your strides faltering as you realized it was Jin who was waiting for you outside the school premises. He was cooly leaning against their car, their driver sitting on the car, waving at you with a smile on his face. But Jin looked angry.

“Who’s that?” Your close friend and classmate, Chan, asked you. “Why does he look mad?”

Yes. Why was Jin mad?

Perhaps, Jin was too impatient to wait for you because not a moment later, his legs that you noticed were becoming longer as the years passed by brought him faster to you. He stood in front of you, towering over you and Chan. And was he glaring at him?

“Jin!” You gushed in excitement, your adoration to him apparent that you were sure your eyes were gleaming with unrestrained happiness. “Why are you here?”

He turned to you after scaring the poor boy, “Your father asked me to pick you up from school. Our families are going to have dinner together,” he replied in a tense voice. He didn’t even let you speak when he grabbed the backpack that you were wearing, and dragged it to the waiting car.

You didn’t get the chance to say your goodbye to your friend.

Inside the car, his eyes were trained on the window, watching the passing cars. He was pouting, his lips protruding adorably. And there you were, sitting beside him as you nonchalantly ate your candy whilst talking animatedly to their driver.

“Does your father know you have a boyfriend?”

You blinked owlishly, confused with what he suddenly said. The driver only shook his head lightly and smiled. He was watching the young sir sulked until Jin couldn’t keep his silence anymore.

“W-what boyfriend?”

“That boy you were walking with.”

“He’s a friend!”

Jin turned his head to look at you, his eyes appeared darker as he took you in. You were ridiculous in his eyes.

“Sure he is. I’m going to tell your father about this,” he promised in a monotonous voice. His jaw was clenched as he remembered clear as day how the two of you walked so near each other. He knew how other boys thought, especially on that age with their silly crushes.

But if he thought you would be mad, he could not be anymore mistaken. You instantaneously slid across the sit, almost plastering your side to his as you looked up at his eyes.

“Oppa, are you jealous?” You asked with a wide grin on your face, your lips the color of the sweet candy you were eating.

He blinked repeatedly. He could not believe he came across as that! He was just…looking for you. Right?! He was just somehow protective of you.

As gently as he could, he pushed you away. “Don’t be delusional! I’m just worried for uncle! He works so hard only for you to be with boys when you’re so young!” he explained in an annoyed voice, the volume of his voice rising like the way his ears reddened.

“So I should not be with another boy?”

“Yes.”

“So if I stay away from them, will you marry me when we grow up?”

“No.”

You only rolled your eyes at him, unbelieving that the two of you would not end up getting married. Your young self was sure that you would end up with him. A year later, your father transferred you to an all-girl’s school. You didn’t have to know that it was him who influenced your father to do so. At such a young age, Jin was starting to become darker, perhaps a little bit more manipulative. He had done it so underhanded by using his charms and well-placed words that no one would think of him as anything but a sweet, young man.

You were thirteen when girls started being mean to you. Why did kids have to be so mean? Why did kids have to find someone else’s weak spot and attacked it?

You were walking to an alley, a shortcut to your home, minding your own business when the mean girls from school saw you. You learned hate because of them. Your steps faltered when one of the mean girls noticed you.

“Look who’s here,” she sneered, looking at you up and down. Her other two friends paused their chats to look and you and laughed.

“What’s with your messy hair?” One of them asked in disbelief, circling you as she lifted some strands of your hair. You would admit you were bad at combing your hair. You were used to being one of the boys that you didn’t put special care to your appearance. “Do you look like that because you have no mother?”

“You looked like a rat that came from the sewage,” she mocked you. And then the three of them laughed in that annoying way of theirs.

It was not even funny.

You shook your head before attempting to walk past them. But apparently, they weren’t done with you. A scream erupted from your mouth when someone grabbed your hair, tugging it with enough force to bend your neck.

“Where are you going? You think we’re done with you?”

“Yes, freak. We’re done when we say we’re done!”

Even though you fought with all your might, you stood no chance. Three outnumbered one.

Until he came, like a hero you always thought he was.

Jin was in your house, his parents eating dinner with your father. He repeatedly looked at the clock, wondering where could you be. You should be home by now. His knee wouldn’t stop moving as he watched the clock. His parents were laughing with your father when he asked them where you were.

“Oh, she’s on her way home. She’s probably around the alley. You know that girl, she has no patience walking around the block.”

And that was when he left. He politely excused himself, telling them that he would just buy something from the convenience store. Yet, he found himself walking to the mentioned alley.

And he was glad he did.

You were so close to crying, something you didn’t like doing because it always took you forever to stop when someone roughly and carelessly pushed the mean girl away from you. She landed on the ground harshly and you heard her pained whimper. The other two went to their friend, pulling her away from the angry boy. You felt a gentle hand pulling you to stand. You felt Jin brushing the disheveled hair from your face. And then he flashed you a reassuring smile, yet his eyes remained angry.

You were limping as he walked with you. Up until now, he didn’t say anything. And you were all too glad he didn’t. That day, he pulled you to a convenience store, brought medical supplies, and cleaned your wounds quietly. He was bent down as he placed the final bandaid on your knee.

“What are their names?” He asked with an air of nonchalance, but what you didn’t know was his mind was brewing something unpleasant. He was going to unleash hell on those girls.

Without any thought, you told him.

And come morning, you never saw those girls again. Apparently, they were reported to the school and had to transfer.

He was seventeen when he saved you.

You were fourteen and he was eighteen. You were waiting for him outside the university he wanted to enter, in your hand was the placard you spent the whole night making. You were waiting to congratulate him on his entrance exam. There was a crowd outside the school, waiting for their sons or daughters to finish the exam. You were so sure that he was going to pass. Your Jin was the smartest man you knew.

You were grinning and waving wildly when you finally saw him. The years had only made him taller and more handsome. You sighed as his perfect face became more apparent as he neared you. You were so entranced by him that you didn’t notice his other friends and some girls trailing behind him. And they only teased him further when they saw your placard, snickering about how some young girl was pining over Jin.

As if he would be with you.

As if the Jin they knew would be with someone lower than him.

He was so embarrassed that he told you to go home.

“B-but-“

“Go home, Y/N.”

But you meant to ride home with him…

That day, it rained so hard and you were only too pitiful as you walked to the bus stop. You were shivering as you arrived home. And it didn’t come as a surprise that you caught a fever that night. For the first time, you ignored his text asking you if you arrived home safely. You had barely woken up when you noticed his form sitting beside your bed. Your father trusted him so much that he let him in your bedroom. He was silently watching you. On the bedside table was a basin of water and a cloth he used on your forehead. Jin might have appeared stoic in front of you, but inside he was dying from worry when he didn’t hear from you last night.

In fact, he was so worried that he came to your house, knocking on the door sheepishly when he woke up your father and asked if you were home.

He had been here for hours now.

“Are you mad at me?”

You smiled at him weakly. “Never, oppa,” you whispered.

“I’m sorry for leaving you. You should have not came alone, princess,” he lectured gently, still worried that you went on your own for more than an hour travel to cheer for him.

“I wanted to support you,” you pouting defended yourself.

“I know. But next time, don’t. I know you support me even without you going there.”

“W-were you worried for me?”

“Yes.”

“Then,” you said, sitting up slowly before flashing him your cheeky smile. “Will you marry me?”

Seokjin only shook his head.

He was eighteen when he didn’t outrightly said no. He was eighteen when he realized you meant the world to him.

Yet, he was nineteen when he hurt you the most.

It was Christmas. It was the first year he went to college, while you were still in high school. It was the first Christmas he looked forward to because your family and his were spending it together on a cabin near a frozen lake. He was the last one to arrive at the cabin, and he didn’t anticipate the traffic rush from people scrambling to enjoy their holidays that he arrived at a much later night. He didn’t know why, but he spent his first year away from home messaging you daily. He even went as far as demanded you to tell him when you would get home, or when you would go out with your friends, or when you needed someone to pick you up because he would. He would go to you regardless of how far he was. He would drive for hours for you.

Jin parked his car and entered the cabin. He knew you were probably sleeping already, but when he passed the dining room, he could hear conversations that turned something in his brain, something so horrible.

It planted something vile and poisonous in his twisted mind.

“Are you sure about this?” He heard his father’s voice resounding over the quietness of the night. He didn’t know why, but he stayed silent. He was always the polite one, always the one to greet his elders. But right now, he opted to forget his manners.

He opted to eavesdrop.

Your father sighed before putting the glass of whiskey on the table. “I am sure about this. I think it will be good for Y/N and I to move to America. I think it’s an offer I cannot refuse.”

Jin felt a stabbing pain in his heart. No. You would leave him. Your father would take you from him. He didn’t want you gone. He couldn’t have you gone. He would lose it if you weren’t around.

“When will you leave?” His mother asked gently. And Jin dreaded the answer.

“Next week.”

Not if Jin had anything to do with it. No one would take you from him.

“Oppa!”

He snapped out of his dark thoughts when he heard your angelic voice calling to him. You were running full speed to him, and before he knew it you were jumping in his arms. The blunt force of your body slamming to his brought him back to life, to his sanity that was slipping from his grasp.

“You’re here!” You grinned at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He was silent. He probably hated your embrace. He probably found you annoying, still.

You were about to step back when he wrapped his muscular arms around you.

“Y/N! Let Jin go. He’s tired from driving all night,” your father nudged you gently, his smile comforting as he greeted Jin. But to Jin, your father lost all his charm the moment he decided to take you away from him.

The lake was frozen.

It was the perfect time to skate. You were giddy as you and your father skated in the early morning of the Christmas eve. It had always been the two of you since you could remember. Your mother died when you were barely walking. To you, your father was your whole world. Your laughters resounded over the whole cabin, and Jin’s parents’ were happy just listening to you. Jin’s mother was preparing hot chocolate, and his father was putting gifts under the tree.

It smelled like Christmas.

“Jin! My boy, come join us!” Your father called when he noticed from a distance Jin who was standing statue like near the lake. His black coat was in perfect contrast of the whiteness of the snow. His cheeks and lips were almost red from the cold temperature.

You thought he looked like a prince.

You waved at him before twirling around the ice. You landed perfectly on your feet. Your father beckoned you to him, and you were only too eager to skate to him when you heard a cracking sound.

You threaded on the thin ice.

And before you knew it, you were falling in the deep, cold water. The unforgiving temperature of the water swallowed your screams. It swallowed your resistance. You managed to get your head above water only to see you own father fell down, the very ground he was skating on cracked under his weight.

It was merely a second but you saw the horror that flashed in his eyes, the despair of his situation, and the anxiety that he would not get to you on time.

The second time you managed to get your head above the freezing water, you saw Jin running to you, shedding his black coat on the ground.

“My father! Save him!” You screamed, even as your voice shook.

But Jin still ran to you. Without any thought for his own safety, he dove down to the harsh water. He dove down like an angel you thought he was as you sank further down, only the light from the cracked lake shone through. He thought he wouldn’t get to you, but by his strong, sheer will, he managed to grab your wrist.

Pulling you up was harder. But Jin was a determined man.

He swam up with one hand, while the other was secured around your body. He managed to drag you up, noticing how blue your lips were. His parents were screaming as they ran to the lake.

“Stay there!” He shouted, knowing how unstable the ice were.

“M-my father. S-save h-him,” you pleaded your hero, gripping his sleeve with weak hand as he wrapped his coat around your shivering body. It was a though he didn’t hear you, only focused on your well-being.

He could save him.

He still had the energy, the adrenaline rush still strong in his veins.

He could technically save him.

But your father was going to take you away from him.

“Jin, p-please save him,” you whispered frantically, looking up to his dark eyes with your pleading ones.

And so, Jin stood up slower, ran slower, and dove a little slower to save your father. No one would technically call him on his bullshit. After all, his parents saw him dove after their friend. You saw him with his own eyes how he dragged your unconscious, pale father from the pits of the cold lake.

You saw him.

“She’s so young to be an orphan. What a tragedy,” you heard them say as you stood stoically on the side. You had not said a word since your father was pronounced dead. They said you were in shocked. They said you were still processing what happened. They said you would be better in time.

But how would they know that?

You were grateful for the Kim family for taking care of everything; from the funeral to the papers, to taking you in. Even Seokjin filed a leave from the university to stay with you.

And he did stay with you. Right now, he was standing beside you, accepting condolences in behalf of you. He was a rock, just a rock that you didn’t want right now. A rock that you somehow selfishly associated with your father’s death.

He stayed with you even when you didn’t want him to.

You had not even looked at him since that tragedy. You knew it was wrong, you knew it was unfair for you to blame him. But were you wrong to blame him when you felt him hesitate? Had he moved a second sooner, would your father still be here? Would he be lying on the hospital bed instead of his coffin?

It was a month later and you still hadn’t said a word despite you going to therapy. It was a month of silence and of you acting like he wasn’t there, like he wasn’t waiting for you to look at him.

“Dear,” his mother called you one night, sitting you down on their living room. “We were thinking…we want to adopt you.”

If you were shocked, Jin was even more surprised. He didn’t know about this. How could his parents decided to do this? To do this to him?!

Your widened eyes looked up from your hands to them. Did they really mean that? Did that mean you weren’t going to be alone anymore? Were you going to have a family again?

“But only if you want to. There’s no rush, dear. Either way,” Mrs. Kim said gently, clasping your hands in hers, tears brimming in her eyes as she took in the pitiful you. “Either way, you’re already a daughter to me.”

“Thank you.” That was the first thing you said in a month. You were so happy. You were so thankful. You were about to hug her when Jin slammed his hand on the table.

“No!”

“Jin! Watch your tone-“

“No, father. I don’t want to be her brother! I don’t want her to be my sister!” He shouted, his voice extremely loud. And for the first time in a month, you looked at his eyes with your hurt ones. He couldn’t even bring himself to regret this. You didn’t know this now, you probably didn’t realize this right now but he was fighting for the future of the two of you. Why would you say thank you to his mother?! Weren’t you the one who kept on bugging him to marry him? Did you now change your mind? No. No, he wouldn’t let you. He didn’t do all of those things for you to change your mind now.

“I’ll never treat you like a sister, Y/N.”

You were turning sixteen when he let you go.

It was already way past your curfew when you arrived at Kim’s home. You were silently walking in the darkened room, certain that no one would catch you creeping in when all of a sudden, light from a lampshade flooded the room.

And there he was, sitting with his legs crossed, his face void of any emotion as he watched you.

“Princess,” he called you in a slurred voice. It was his voice that finally made you looked at him, to look at the boy you used to adore. It was apparent that he was drunk. His cheeks were tinted with redness, and his eyes were somehow unfocused.

You blinked as you took him in. “You’re drunk.”

“And you hate me. And it’s killing me,” he replied back softly, tears were quickly filling his eyes. He could not go on like this. You were killing him. He could not live another day with you being so close yet so far. At that point, he would do anything to get back the young girl who used to adore and support him. Jin stood up, shadows following his form as he neared you.

Had you not let him touched you that night, he would not agree with you leaving him.

But you did not step back when he caressed your face. You did not step back when he hugged you, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

“How can I make you love me again?”

“Let me go to America,” you replied calmly. You did want to go abroad, to leave all this mess behind. Had you father not died horribly, the two of you would have lived there by now. But Jin was preventing you from leaving with all his might. The influence he had in his parents was powerful, something that you did not consider. In your young mind, you knew leaving was the best course of action for you. South Korea was killing you. Living with him was killing you. Remembering that he saved you instead of your father despite your endless begging was killing you.

And you hating him because of that was killing him.

Jin towered over you as he leaned back to look at you, his eyes tired and sad. “And if I let you leave me, will you love me again?”

Your heart was beating fast. At that point, you would say anything to get away from him and the memories he represented.

“If I let you leave, my princess,” he whispered as he looked down at your lips. “If I let you leave me, do you promise to marry me when you get back?”

“Yes. I promise, Jin.”

It was your lie that cemented your future.

You were now twenty-five. Years passed by so fast. It was true was they said, time could heal wounds. The promise you made before was long gone from your mind. Your then young mind rationalized that Jin only acted that way because of guilt, that he only asked you to love him again because he was so used to you loving him that once you stopped, you shifted the orbit of his world. You hadn’t personally heard from him in almost nine years. As soon as you turned eighteen and no longer needed the Kim family as guardians, you cut off all communications from him. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to distance yourself from Mrs. Kim. She was the mother you never had. But every time you called, Jin would even be more desperate for you. Even his mother was worried for her son, claiming that ever since you stopped communicating with the young man, he started becoming closed off. Every time you called his mother, Jin would snatch the phone away from her, yearning to just hear your voice so badly.

Seokjin was miserable. But his misery was not without anger. He resented the fact that he let you go, that he believed you when you said you would come back to him…that you would marry him.

He regretted letting you leave him. He swore that once he got you back, he would tie you to him so fast you wouldn’t be able to leave him again.

It had been almost a decade.

You weren’t living under the rock, no. To him, it was as though you disappeared from the face of the earth. It was difficult to find you in a foreign country even with his wealth and power. He didn’t know how you were right now. He didn’t know what you look like. He missed the years he could have spent with you. He missed you.

To you though, you could not escape him. His face was everywhere you looked, his life out there for everyone to see. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that he made something more out of himself. After all, ever since you were younger you thought he was larger than life. You were scared to see him in person, though.

You thought seeing him would bring back the pain you so desperately wanted to forget. Your therapist encouraged you to face your fears slowly, saying that you could see him without him seeing you.

You saw him once during their concert in America. Seokjin looked like a prince when you were a child. But now, he was like a king. His persona screamed elegance. He looked happier too as he danced and sang with his bandmates. It was apparent that life had been kind to him. You thought you could finish the whole concert without panicking, but Jin looked a little too long at your direction. And that was when you ran away.

“Do I really have to?” You asked you boss sheepishly, borderline on begging him not to send you back to that place.

He looked at you with an exasperated face, “Do you want to keep your job or not?”

“Right now…” you trailed off, your utter aversion of going back to South Korea was somehow outweighing your desire to eat and afford a roof on your head. “I’m not sure I want to.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the airport. Your company prepared ahead of time, arranging hotel for the whole month you would be staying in this country. You crafted a well-planned schedule which would take you around the pertinent parts of South Korea. You promised yourselves that you would be smart with your time so you could leave as soon as possible with the finished project your company sent you for.

You were expecting a calm and quiet first day.

You really were.

You were praying for that, in fact.

“I apologize, but our system cannot find your name.”

You flashed the hotel receptionist a tight smile, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm yourself. “Can you try one last time?”

She nodded reluctantly, but the result was the same. No room was booked under your name. You thanked her for her time before you attempted to call your boss to no avail. You knew it was probably due to timezone difference, but you couldn’t help but curse him in your head. You would so demand a raise once you get back. You tried booking at another hotel but weirdly enough, all of the rooms were already booked. You even tried booking for an airbnb but the ending was the same.

It was eventually seven in the evening when you swallowed your pride and called her. Mrs. Kim was elated that you were finally back, her motherly warmth could be felt despite her being out of the country at the moment for their anniversary. She did instruct you to go to a house that was an hour away from Seoul. She gave you the passcode and said she would see you as soon as she arrived back to South Korea. By the time you arrived at the white, modern house, it was already almost midnight. The jet lag and the timezone difference were starting to get to you that you decided to shower then sleep rather than touring the house. You would do that tomorrow.

But tomorrow was different.

For the first time in years, you slept so deeply. You had never felt rested since the day of the accident. But today, you felt so serene, so rested. It must have been the wondrous bed that lured you to sleep, or it must have been the extreme weariness from your travel. And probably, it must have been the warmth beside you, your cheek resting on a beating heart.

Wait.

What?

You opened your eyes in sudden alertness, all traces of sleep now gone from your body. The first thing you saw was a plain, white shirt and a pair of black shorts of whomever you were sleeping on top of. The shirt stretched out over a muscular chest and your mind was hopelessly telling you that he smelled familiar…

Slowly, as to not alert whoever this strange man was, you pushed your body away from the man you unknowingly made your bed. You felt his hand resting on the small of your back fell on the bed. With wide eyes and shallow breaths, you looked up at the face of the man you never thought you’d see again- only to find him already looking at you with hooded eyes.

Seokjin gazed at you with warmth, his plump lips lifting on the sides.

“Miss me, princess?”

Hiraeth II

#bts seokjin #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin yandere #yandere bts #jin x reader #jin x you #yandere!seokjin #jin x y/n #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin x y/n #bts fic #yandere jin x reader

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kairiscorner · 9 months

Text

i just want what's best for you. — miles 42 x reader

summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,646 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello, my lovely anon !! omg i loved writing this ngl, I INTENTIONALLY PUT MORE ANGST HERE THAN I DID FOR 1610 MILES AAAAA please multiverse, don't let this flop PLEASEEEE also SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND OOC RIO, I TRIED UUEUEUUEUUE BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you had never felt any more intimidated and nervous than you did right now as you sat down with miles' family for dinner. you had partners before and met their parents, it wasn't all so bad; you actually had fond memories of those people and sometimes would reminisce how kind they'd treat you, how they'd welcome you into their families and give you a home away from your home when you'd need it. however, when it came to miles' family... it was so-so.

his uncle aaron, without a doubt, was one of the nicest father figures you had ever encountered in your whole life. he was a sweet man who cared for miles and would, be proxy, care about you, too. he'd tease you and miles when he'd see you two together in the most low-key ways and still make miles lose all his cool and stoic composure around you when his uncle would expose how much he talks about you.

"this kid can't ever go through another day without thinking about you. like seriously, all i did was take him to the convenience store downtown and i see him with all these snacks i've never seen him eat before, snacks he told me he hates with a burning passion. i look at him and ask him why he's got those snacks, and he mutters under his breath... 'these're for them, not for me.' how cute of my nephew, no?" he said with a chuckle as miles glared up at his uncle and pouted at him, with you giggling at the story as everyone but his mother was laughing about that little anecdote.

uncle aaron nudged rio a little, to which she shot him a glare similar to miles' and muttered something under her breath in spanish. uncle aaron sighed as some tension was caught in the air and enveloped the entire dinner table, with no one else uttering another word or sound as you all ate in silence. you felt rio's gaze on you at times while you all ate, and unlike the other mothers you had encountered with your previous partners, she had a gaze that felt a little... judgemental, in a way?

you felt pretty self-conscious as rio looked at you, and you felt yourself jump slightly in your seat when she'd ask you questions about you and her son. she called your name randomly, shattering the silence and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up as you nearly sprang up from your seat in utter surprise. "y-yes rio?" you asked her as she winced, as if she heard a discordant tune when you uttered her first name. without even looking up from her plate, she asked you, "did you know miles got a b in spanish? ay, i'm proud of you, mijo, though... you usually do so much better than that. i'm worried, have you been missing classes recently? and do you know anything about it?" she asked you as she turned her gaze up at you, causing you to freeze up and instinctively shake your head.

miles breathed out a small huff as he tried to think of a reason to give his own mother, who he promised he'd never lie to, as his uncle aaron tried to tell rio that maybe now wasn't the right time to talk about it, but rio told him in spanglish that now was as good a time as any, she had to know if her son was being distracted by... she didn't dare finish that thought. she looked over at you then at miles and raised an eyebrow. "so? is no one gonna tell me anything?" she asked the two of you as you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling pretty intimidated by her right now. "mama, it's nothing, i promise you, i--" "it's nothing?" "oh, no." uncle aaron muttered as he silently excused himself and left the table with his plate in hand, gesturing to you to follow what he did and to seek refuge into the kitchen, away from the mother and son.

you did as he directed and excused yourself, nearly stumbling out of your chair as rio's eyes followed you with a kind of suspicious gleam in those hazel eyes of hers. indistinct conversation and arguments between the mother and son were heard, with the sound of running water, the squeaking and setting down of plates being tuning their voices out as you gratuitously helped uncle aaron wash the dishes. "hey, sorry about them, miles' mom hasn't been in the best mood lately." he muttered to you as you nodded. "i-i understand, aaron. it's really okay..." you murmured back as you both finished, with uncle aaron wishing you a good night as he disappeared into the garage doing who knows what.

as you exited the kitchen, you heard rio's muffled voice from the dining room mention your name, and you walked over in a morbid kind of curiosity to know why she mentioned you when she was scolding miles; though a part of you thought of why, you hoped what you thought of wouldn't be the case. "sé honesto, ¿te estás distrayendo con ellos?" she asked miles with a stern voice as miles looked down at the ground, clearly frustrated, but wasn't about to run his mouth off at his own mother. he shook his head and murmured, "mi amante no tiene la culpa de lo que me ha estado pasando, mama."

rio sighed exasperatedly as she looked at her son in disbelief. "and you mean that? you seriously... look, mijo, no quiero hacerte infeliz, y sé que crees que entiendes lo que es bueno para ti, pero… no puedo permitir que ellos te pongan en peligro. they might... not be a good influence on you." she said with a soft voice as miles looked up at her with an incredulous expression on his face. "mama, you have no idea who they really are." he said as rio kept talking to him, but he stormed off on her. she called for her son repeatedly, but he marched into his room, with her sighing aloud and storming off herself, too.

you felt a heavy weight on your shoulders as your anxieties and worries over what miles' mother thought of you were realized; she doesn't trust you, and she doesn't think you're good for her son. you felt so weak in the knees at that moment, thinking that you would never be able to love miles freely without his mother intervening or trying to convince him you're not right for him, that you're a distraction for him. you didn't want any conflict between the two anymore, so you thought of a way to end their feud peacefully, and the only way that'd work was... one neither of you would particularly like.

you snuck upstairs to miles' room and gently rapped at his door, muttering that you were there, and that you wanted to talk to him. miles opened his door a crack, and when he could confirm it was you, he opened the door wider and gently took your hand in his. "cielo," he greeted you softly with a light squeeze of your hand as he looked at you. "am i ever glad to see you." he said as he led you into his room, with you reciprocating his touch and squeezing his hand back. he gestured for you to sit down on the side of his bed as he sat down, with you following him and sitting down on the plush of his bed.

he brushed a few hairs from your forehead and kept his gaze on you as you looked down at the floor, unsure of how to tell him what you were articulating to yourself in your head; unsure of how he'd take it, if he even will be able to. you sighed a little longer than you planned to, causing miles to pull away from you and have worry drawn on his face as he tried getting a better look at your expression. "cielo, are you okay? did something happen...?" he asked you as you shook your head gently. "nothing, nothing, i..." you began, but you stopped yourself, trying to think of how to tell him all over again as all you could think of at that moment was that: miles' mother doesn't think you're any good for him.

you took a deep breath and faced him with saddened eyes. "i'm sorry, miles, i just... i don't think you should be dating me anymore. it's not because of you, of course not, it's... it's on me." you whispered, with miles feeling like he took a blow to the gut, feeling utterly helpless and confused at what you just told him. he wasn't sure what you meant by 'it was your fault', but he wanted to let you know right now that you weren't at fault, for whatever it was that'd come between you two.

miles appeared a little more hurt and distressed by what you told him, the matter at hand still not sinking in, that you told him you'd break up with him... he couldn't, wouldn't, believe it. "what? amor, what do you mean? 'your fault'? i doubt that..." he began as he tried to reassure you, feeling himself coming undone at the seams and desperate to know why you wanted to part ways with him. was it because he couldn't spend as much time with you as before? because he was too busy with his job as the prowler to be with you? if you only told him, then... then he'd find ways to make it work, not make you feel alone ever again, make up for what he lacked in the past by working hard for you now in the present.

"is it... is it because i'm not able to spend much time with you as before? mi vida, i'm sorry... i'll make up for it, i promise!" he said as you shook your head. "no, miles... it's not your fault. it's mine, even if you don't say it is." you said with a melancholic voice as miles looked at you with feebleness filling his face as he tried to understand how it's your fault for anything. he defended you in front of his mother the best he could, and yet... he'd still lose you in the end, if not the argument.

you couldn't figure out how to tell miles that you didn't wish to break up, you wanted to be with him still, but there was no better way of getting his mom and him to make up if you were still in the picture. you heard his mom say it himself, you didn't seem like a good influence on him, and maybe her behavior towards you was a sign that you really weren't being good to miles, good to his parents, and just... weren't good in general. you sighed, trying to keep the tears from flowing as miles tried to tell you that if you really wanted to break up with him, he'd respect your decision, but... he begs of you to tell him how it's your fault.

you felt your heart throb and your throat flare up as you tried to stifle your cries and sobs. "i'm just, i'm not good for you, okay, miles? i'm sorry... you deserve better." you told him in a quieted voice as you got up and went over to his door, about to leave him and give him an easier time with his family than stay with him and just ruin his relationship with his mom even more.

"espera, mi cielo! hold on a minute, can't we talk about this...?" he called out to you as you opened the door to leave, to keep yourself away from miles to keep him and his mother from getting angry at each other and fighting all over again. however, when you opened the door, you saw a familiar face look back at you, and a familiar voice shrieking in surprise--it was miles' mom, who was eavesdropping on you two. you shrieked at his mom's shrieking, as miles shrieked at your shrieking.

"mama!" miles exclaimed as he saw his mom at the doorway, with her telling the two of you to calm down, and that nobody needs to break up with anybody. "i'm... i'm sorry i eavesdropped, but i came here to... to say sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry to you, too." she said as she turned to look at you with guilt and shame in her eyes. "you didn't deserve to hear all that... i shouldn't have said that." she muttered as she looked at the two of you. she leaned against the doorway and sighed as she began to speak again, looking around miles' room.

"i didn't mean that you were a bad influence, i just... i default to worrying about what miles could be doing because, you're a teenager, miles--you're both teens and... you both wanna do your own things. it worries me when miles doesn't tell me anything, it makes me feel like i'm failing as a mom when... i'm the only parent you have now." she said in a soft voice as she looked at miles sadly and up at you. she sat down next to miles on the bed and held his hand. "i wish you could just be honest with me." she muttered to him as miles looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "i am being honest with you, mom. you don't even... you don't even know how amazing my partner is, you hardly give them a chance, and that's what hurts me every time." he said as you looked at the two of them.

miles' mom got up from the bed and placed her fingers underneath your chin and lifted your head up to look at her and sighed. "i'm so sorry i judged you too quickly, i just... mom instincts kicked in, and... i got a little carried away and thought i knew what was good for my baby boy, but... i guess i don't know as much anymore. maybe... i'd know him better if i trusted him, if i trusted you." she said with a slight smile on her face as you gave her a slight smile back. "again, i'm so, so sorry for how i was earlier, and... just, in general." she uttered as you nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales." you told her as she smiled wider and pulled away from you. "y'know what, that just made my evening much better. i think i like you a bit better already. 'mrs.' morales, finally." she said with a slight chuckle as you chuckled back at her little quip, with miles smiling to himself as he finally witnessed you two get along. she let miles keep dating and seeing you, only if he promises to get his grades back up to how they were before.

as his mom left the room, miles told her you two needed to talk, alone. she understood, but reminded him not to lock the door. "lo tengo, mamá, entendido." he said as he closed the door the minute she headed down into the hallway, leaving you both in an awkward silence after you two had 'broken up' a few minutes ago. before miles could say anything, you wrapped him in a big hug, muttering under your breath how happy you were to be with him, that his mom finally accepted you. miles slowly reciprocated your hug, holding you close and kissing the top of your head as he smiled against your hair. he was beyond happy and relieved to know his mom finally saw you as a person he loved, not as a distraction to him or a bad influence, just someone he cared a lot about to devote himself to, someone he wouldn't leave nor let anyone, not even his own mom or uncle, get in the way of him loving ceaselessly.

he gets that his mom just wants what's best for him, but... maybe it was time for him to decide what's best for him on his own, and that'd be to love you with all his heart and stay by your side, never leaving you once because he loves you too much to let you go that easily.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

#earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #e42 miles #e42 miles morales x reader #atsv #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #atsv prowler

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