#her parents have already given up on her and shes not even born yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 months

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The Body Factory (sexclubowner!h)

Hellloooo!

It’s been a long while since I posted here. I am still going strong on patreon with 4-5 one shots a month with anywhere from 8 to 14k words usually (sometimes more) + blurbs. I decided to released one of my new tropes, just part one on here and if it sounds good maybe consider joining for $3USD a month to read more parts of this and many others coming up!!!

prompt: yn doesn’t feel fufilled in her relationship and so her fiancé, Arthur, comes up with an idea to help but it doesnt turn out as either of them expected aka sex club owner!h

word count: 8k

warnings: under-negotiation, power play, mean h, choking, safeword, cheating but not really yet

🛑 there is a scene that could potentially be triggering so i am going to put a brief summary at the end of the fic if you’d like to check whether it’s a appropriate read for yourself. 🛑

Author’s Note: I have had this idea on my mind for months and have been so extremely excited to share it with you. It has really really been inspiring to me as I don’t have a trope like this. I hope you enjoy.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was a safe choice.

It’s why when YN’s father introduced them, it didn’t really seem like an option to turn down the invitation to go out to dinner at the swankiest restaurant in town.

The date had been so incredibly unexciting that YN had no doubt that he would not ask for a second one.

They had nothing in common, the space was often filled with an awkward silence, and averted gazes to the walls or out the window next to their seating.

Arthur was nice.

Arthur was polite, he held the door and paid for the bill before walking her to her car with the chaste kiss to her cheek.

It absolutely boggled her mind when her father informed her the next day that Arthur had told her that he had an amazing time and was going to ask her for a second date in the next upcoming days.

YN hated the mere idea of disappointing her parents, she had already let them down enough with her career choice not to join the family business

:readmore:

instead becoming neonatal nurse, despite that being a massive accomplishment, it wasn’t praised because she didn’t go to be a lawyer like both her mother and father.

It felt like most of the time she was on thin ice with her parents because of her education and career choice, even down to the car she drove (they thought it was too sporty and not practical enough) which left her in a precarious position.

She relied on them for help with her student loans.

YN was still trying to get her feet on the ground with her apartment landlord just bumping up her rent by nearly five-hundred pounds, her car note, among all the other things that came with being an adult that she wasn’t financially capable of managing yet.

Her parents agreed to pay for her school loans.

However, it came with silet threat of staying in their good gracious or they would cut her off at any moment, they had threatened it enough when she got into nursing school and informed them that she would be attending, she must have heard them threaten her inheritance half a million times.

Arthur was her ticket back into her parent’s limelight.

He was fresh out of law school but he was incredibly intelligent, good at what he did, and had multiple firms vying for him to join their legal council but he had chosen YN’s family’s business because of their well-known reputation.

Arthur came from old money, which had given him an extremely privileged life and a headstart into success as soon as he was born.

He was the great-grandson of an oil tycoon whom he had reaped the benefits ever since.

The second date happened, then the third, then the fourth.

No spark.

No chemistry.

Atleast on YN’s end because Arthur seemed happy as a clam in their relationship, he praised YN to anyone who would listen, and was consistently bragging about their life to anyone that would listen to him.

He was nice to her.

He remembered important dates, brought her flowers to work, and had dinner made when she walked in the door on nights that she worked late shifts and he got home before her.

Time passes and they celebrate their first year anniversary, then their second, then their third.

On the fourth was when he got down on one knee and professed his love to her in front of all their family and friends on Christmas Day at an extravagant party at his parent’s estate.

The diamond ring that he slid onto her finger was ridiculous, too big to not just be flaunting wealth, and it wasn’t a style that she liked but she lied and told him that she loved it.

There was an emptiness in her chest when he proposed, she was teary-eyed but she couldn’t determine whether it was from happiness or dread that she was going to spend the rest of her life with the man in front of her.

It wasn’t his fault in the slightest.

Arthur was just Arthur.

He lacked depth, there was nothing behind his twinkling brown eyes beside law, money, and judgement.

Arthur treated her nicely consistently, they barely ever fought, and he never raised his voice at her.

When he got frustrated, he just got an exasperated tone and took time to himself in his office until he had calmed down enough to talk.

But that was once in a blue moon.

They’ve never had a blow-out because he was so agreeable and accommodating.

That’s exactly what was missing from their relationship.

YN didn’t crave toxicity, not one bit, she wanted a healthy relationship with positive communication, understanding, and all the things that make that up.

YN did crave excitement, humor, sexual tension, and the type of relationship that kept her on her toes, got her adrenaline pumping and making her stomach turn in nervous knots because she didn’t always know what to expect out of her partner.

Arthur was as predictable as a clock, had no spontaneity up his sleeve, and his sense of humor was nonexistent.

YN had a partner that she’d been with in college named Klein.

He wasn’t the love of her life, not by a long shot, but he had been wild, on the edge of insane half-of-the-time, and always kept their relationship exciting.

He would show up at her part-time cafe job, with a fake excuse to her boss about a death in his family, and he needed her support.

When YN would walk out to his motorcycle with him, concerned about his grandmother’s death, he would only smile at her, inform her that his grandmother has been dead for fifteen years, and that he was going to take her on a hike to see a waterfall she’d mentioned wanting to see once in passing.

But then there was their sex life, it was phenomenal and unlike the few half-hapzard experience she had before him.

He was confident, dominant, and introduced her to things that she used to not even have the nerve to say out loud let alone do.

It was him who introduced her to BDSM and they explored it for nearly two and a half years of their relationship.

YN did research while they were together and after the fact, she had even attended a few virtual training sessions to learn about correct techniques, safety precautions, and learning the dynamic of power play which engrossed her to no end.

However, when Klein requested they open their relationship, that had been such an unexpected turn-off that she no longer felt the connection that was there before.

The end of the relationship was amicable, they were still friends on social media and liked each others posts but it was at that point they realized they wanted different things and they couldn’t provide that to one another.

Where Klein wanted flexibility, uncertainty, and fluidity.

YN wanted regimen, structured, and a deep sense of connection with one person.

She did not want multiple doms nor did she want her dom to have multiple submissives.

She wanted all the attention on her, her dom would be absolutely captivated by her and be so connected to her physically, mentally, spiritually that they only want her.

Her ideal dom would never mention sharing.

Which isn’t to shame it because it was more common than not to have an open relationship, partner sharing, and swapping.

YN loved the idea of becoming comfortable with someone enough that she could be a brat which she wasn’t an easy submissive she had come to learn.

Her dominant had to work for her submission, sometimes she crumbled quickly and other times it took multiple punishments until the smirk was wiped from her face and replaced with tears on her puffy cheeks from the pinpricks of pain.

After Klein, she had gone on a few dates, some she even hooked up with but she never clicked enough with them to talk about anything like that.

And so she wrapped it up into a nice, neat box and tucked it into the back of her mind because she would find the right partner who would be compatible sexually with her.

Right?

Arthur and her had no sexual chemistry.

Arthur was just as polite in the bedroom as he was outside of it, he never put her in a unique position, and preferred to rotate between the missionary and doggy style.

He would occasionally go down on her but he didn’t know what he was doing so it didn’t feel like much of anything as most of the time he couldn’t even locate her clit.

Which meant fingering was out of the question because he didn’t even know the g-spot existed.

Anytime she managed to orgasm, it was from her own hand, getting herself off because she was past the point of asking him to try to do it.

Arthur did not have a high sex drive and YN felt guilty for being thankful for it.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was trying, and it was so unsatisfying that YN felt like her skin itched sometimes because she hadn’t realized until Arthur how much she craved sexual intimacy with her significant other.

Again, Arthur initiated once a week, sometimes twice or sometimes not for a few weeks when his work is really busy.

YN was six years into a relationship of unfilled desire, disconnect, and a lack of satisfaction which she would have never seen for herself at only being twenty-nine years old.

The wedding was set for fourteen months away, at a vineyard on the coast of Italy.

It was decided by everyone but her as with most things she felt like nowadays.

YN had been scrolling through a blog post when something caught her eye.

It was written by a female who had a similar lack of connection with her partner in the bedroom but wanted more.

The writer had described that as soon as she asked if they could experiment with BDSM that their relationship had completely shifted, they were more in love than ever, and their sex life was more amazing than it had been in nearly a decade.

It was the motivation that YN needed to have the conversation with Arthur, with the hope that it would ignite a flame that had yet to be struck between the two of them.

YN loved Arthur, she wanted to be in love with him but she couldn’t honestly say she was at this point in their relationship.

Arthur had been surprised by the conversation, over dinner one night, if the way he sputtered red wine onto his crisp white button-up was an indicator.

His eyes had gone wide in a look of almost horror and he cleared his throat a handful of times while they discussed it in more detail.

“I just feel like it would be something fun to try out,” YN tries to keep it casual, to not let on to how much she desired this or knew that she would already love it.

“Erm, yeah. I would be open to it,” Arthur had agreed sheepishly, putting down his fork and knife.

“No, I do not want you to feel pressured at all! I just -” YN begins to try to soothe because she had not meant to get such a reaction of concern more than lust out of her fiance.

He chuckles kindly, smiling at her as he reaches across the table to hold her hand, “We can try it, if that’s what you want. I am open to whatever will make you happy, sweetie pie.”

Sweetie pie….

YN tried not to blatantly cringe every time he called her that.

It did not work out.

They did not even get a few minutes into foreplay when Arthur backed out, saying that he just didn’t feel like he knew what to do, and that he’d prefer if they just did their normal thing.

YN agreed, trying to swallow the disappointed lump in her throat because she didn’t want to guilt him in to trying anything he wasn’t into.

They didn’t discuss it again after that for a long while.

Arthur wasn’t blind to the shift after that night.

He now knew that he was not satisfying a need that YN desired and she had just seemed more subdued since he had called it off but was trying to hide it because he knew that she wasn’t trying to make him feel bad about not wanting it.

It had been on his mind though.

“A sex club?” YN’s eyes nearly buldge from her sockets, puting down her glass of water and ignoring the splashes it leaves on her hand because what had Arthur just recommended they try?

“Yes. A BDSM club or a kink club they call it. Maybe if I see other people doing it or we get into the right atmosphere, it will work better. At least off the start?” Arthur seems just as nervous as her, he hadn’t touched his food.

“And…I just…” YN was at a loss for words because this is just the most unexpected turn of events.

“Maybe I can learn from others. Really get good at it for you, you know?” He suggests, his eyes looking anywhere but at hers.

“Yeah, yeah let’s do it.”

The Body Factory was the club that Arthur had decided after doing his research.

He needed somewhere secretive, exclusive, and with iron-clad NDA’s so that no one could use this against him in his profession which was fair enough.

That’s where The Body Factor came into play.

There were guidelines to a membership:

You must make over a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a year.

You were sign and resign an NDA every three months.

A deposit of ten thousand pounds, it will not be refunded if any rules or regulations are broken.

You will send in health screenings every two months, proof of birth control (if female), and a background check.

You may not belong to any other clubs during the time of your membership at The Body Factory.

YN was quite shocked that Arthur had dished out that amount of money on the deposit for something that they weren’t sure that they were going to like nor want to continue to visit even though the membership spans for a year at a time.

“If we go, hate it, and decide to never go back, just consider it a really expensive date night,” Arthur had assured her with a chuckle, she knew of his wealth but even this seemed a bit like frivolous spending but little did she know it was just his desperation to make her happy.

The club was in the packing district of all places, tucked back in between massive factories, some that were still open and operating, others that had been abandoned for years now.

It was actually in an old clothing factory that had been renovated to resemble any other high-end club, from the inside there would be no way that anyone could even tell except for the incredibly high ceilings at some points.

However, the location in the city and of building choice gave a lot of privacy of entering and exiting, it wasn’t advertised nor did it have any sign indicating of their presence.

It was a maze of alleyways until the entrance appeared, a dingy door that was rusted and gave no indication of what was inside, someone walking past would have never looked twice or thought anything of the building nor the entrance.

Everything was matte black, dark, and dimmed.

There were occasional deep emerald green accents but everything was sleek, modern, and simple but in the most elegant way as they walked in.

YN’s heart was in her throat.

Where people going to be fucking right when they walk in?

Or people being led around on leashes right off the bat?

Arthur may pass out.

However, there’s a front desk, almost like at an office with a woman dressed in a incredibly fitted sleek black dress with smooth, curled hair, and makeup like it was done by a professional, she had to be a model because she was gorgeous as she smiled widely and checked them in.

They had to show their licenses, hand over physical copies of their screenings, NDA’s even though they had to sign them virtually too.

There were two security guards in black suits with earpieces standing by large, heavy dark oak doors with their hands crossed in front of them.

This seemed like a movie or just not real with how sophisticated this whole process was.

“Enjoy,” Penelope, the receptionist had chirped with the whitest, most perfect smile she’d ever seen.

Arthur seemed a bit awestruck for a moment and YN couldn’t even fault him for it.

The two guards move aside to open the doors, nodding for them to go in before closing them firmly behind them.

YN finds herself reaching for Arthur’s hand, nervous and shaky with new experience anxiety and adrenaline that she was finally getting back into what she wanted even more so.

There were people mingling, sipping on drinks, and all fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Arthur informed her, “Play starts at ten, the first hour is to introduce, mingle, meet.”

Ah, that makes sense.

It almost builds the tension, YN feels like she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.

They walk over to the bar, another beautiful women greets them right away, laying a napkin down in front of both of them, “Newbies?”

“Yes,” Arthur nods, pointing to himself first, “I’m Arthur, this is YN, my fiance.”

The bartender quirks an eyebrow as she not-so-subtly scans them, “Nice to meet you two. I’m Raven. I bartend Friday through Sunday here. What are you drinking?”

“A moscow mule,” YN asks, maybe some alcohol will loosen her nerves.

“It’s a dry club, babe,” Raven smiles patiently as her long fingernails click against the smooth surface.

“Oh,” YN replies in surprise, looking behind her at the shelves only to see syrups for flavoring but no actual liquor bottles or draft taps to be seen, “A sprite?”

“Water, please,” Arthur adds as he rubs YN’s thigh, squeezing it in reassurance, “I forgot to tell you. No alcohol here. Everybody needs to be sober when playing.”

“That makes sense,” YN hums in agreement, never having actually thought about it much, but it could definitely get cloudy on consent when alcohol was being consumed in regards to playing which was a dangerous and unsafe mixture.

They sit, observed for a few minutes before a few people begin to flock towards them, greeting them and asking surface level questions until there’s a deep, almost eerie chime that echoes for a long moment through the club over the soft jazz.

It was signifying that the clock had struck ten.

Everyone quickly wraps up their conversations before moving to different areas of the rooms, some disappearing down hallways.

The atmosphere had changed significantly in a very quick spurt of time as people started undressing, kissing, moving as if they’d just gotten permission.

There was a couple of the couch across the room that Athur and YN were observing from their barstools.

The two started out slow, sensual, like any normal couple behind close doors but when the woman knots her hair into her partner’s hair and demands his mouth move lower, he obliges and Arthur gasps softly at the roughness displayed.

YN’s been aroused for the last five minutes of watching them but doesn’t make an effort to act on it, not yet atleast, and once the couple move so that the man is laying on the couch, the woman kneeling over his face, it changes her vantage point but it catches on something else.

In the corner, further back into the room, there was a man sitting in the corner where there was barely any lighting, dim and his goal was to obviously stay in the background.

No one was approaching him nor was he interacting with anyone else.

YN knew there was a no phone policy but this man was sat, scrolling boredly through his phone and only occasionally glancing up to observe the people in action around him before eyes dart back down like it wasn’t entertaining at all.

He wasn’t aroused, at least from what YN could see, and he was in a tight, well-fitted suit but his dress shirt was barely buttoned, open enough to show the definition of his pectoral muscles, the sharpness of his collarbones, and a variety of darkly inked tattoos.

He was fucking beautiful.

YN realizes she oogling him but can get away with it because it appears to Arthur that she’s still watching the couple like he is.

However, when the man looks up after a few moments once again, his eyes are instantly locked on YN.

She can’t tell what color they are from here but she knows they’re light, twinkling under the barely there light of a sconce on the wall and it’s smouldering as he doesn’t blink nor waver with embarrassment of being caught staring at her.

YN quickly diverted her eyes back to the couple, her heart was pounding, and a sense of thrill shot up her spine even though it was inappropriate.

She wasn’t here for new partners.

She was here to learn and explore with her own.

YN tries to play it casual when Raven refills the drink she nervously chugged, “Why does that guy have his phone?”

Raven’s eyes darted to the man before grinning, “That’s Harry. He’s the owner, my boss. He supervises the free play.”

“Free play?”

“Out in the common area, it’s considered free play. If you claim a room, you are in private play with whatever partners you bring back there. Harry just makes sure everything stays safe and consensual out here. He gets bored though and plays Candy Crush on his phone.”

YN cracks her own smile at that, trying to imagine the man trying to get rid of sugary sweets and getting frustrated when he loses a round.

“Does he not play?” Arthur asks curiously, now his attention has changed to Harry as well.

“Not often,” Raven informs them, leaning her elbow on the counter, “I can’t remember the last time he did. I’d say at least seven years ago, at least in the free play but he doesn’t reserve rooms or anything. He made it clear that he doesn’t find at least any of the current members interesting enough to engage with.”

“That’s interesting, considering he must have an interest in it, if this is his club,” Arthur replies to Raven before turning back to the scene of the couple, another member had joined the couple and was currently giving the male some startling rough looking bruised kisses and bites to his stomach and thighs.

Arthur was getting aroused by the look and feel of it, he reached over and brazenly took her hand, and led her to his groin where he was hard in his trousers, encouraging her to palm over him which she did as she tried to get into it.

This…This atmosphere, these people, they excited her.

Arthur still did not.

They manage to get to a couch, Arthur appears to be getting so turned on that foreplay isn’t in his realm of ideas because he’s hiking up YN’s dress around her hips and positioning her on top of him which is a new position (in all six years they’ve never done cowgirl) but still, her arousal is barely boiling above surface level.

YN licks her palm, reaching down to help moisten herself because Arthur was not doing anything to spark her to get wet.

It was actually making her more distressed that despite the scenario, she still didn’t feel the connection to her fiancé.

When she slides down, it’s fine, he was an average size so even without much lubrication, it didn’t feel like a stretch or burn when she started to move her hips but it wasn’t as pleasant as if she was sopping, dripping down her thighs.

Arthur glances to the side at one point, noticing that the male from the throuple was now pounding into the original partner with his had tight around her throat, pushing her further into the couch without mercy as she tried to whine through stutter breaths.

YN felt like she was being watched the entire time, which of course she was being watched by other members but it felt different, when she blinks around and notices that Harry has his gaze honed in on her with a twisted scowl of almost disapproval, it confuses her.

However, she’s brought back into the moment when Arthur pants out, “Can- I want to try that.”

When YN follows his gaze, he’s referring to the choking, and yeah, maybe that will light that match.

“Okay, yeah,” YN agrees as she brushes her hair off of her shoulders, wishing he would have taken this dress off of her instead of shoving it upwards where it felt confining.

Arthur smiles at her, leaning up to give her a chaste kiss which didn’t match their situation whatsoever that they were in at the moment.

YN was feeling anxious about the judgment other members might put onto them but not because she cared that people watched but because she knew Arthur and her were nowhere nearly as fluid, practiced, or elegant as the other members whom seemed to just melt into one another easily.

Arthur had never tried it before but his hand came up to her throat, he’s getting close to his own release which means that he’s not as focused, eyes getting a glazed over appearance.

YN soon realizes that he has no idea what he’s doing as he begins to cut off her airway by cupping her throat in the center instead of at the sides.

It hurts, she can’t breathe but not the way that feels tingly, excited, it feels like he could quite possibly suffocate her because of his carelessness.

They had talked about proper methods and he clearly hadn’t retained that information.

A few black dots begin to dance across her line of vision and her body starts to trigger a flight or fight response which she wants to use her safe word but she can’t speak.

YN takes to dig her nails into his hand but he doesn’t seem to understand that it’s not out of lust.

A true fear begins to take hold that something horrible will happen to her in less than a minute.

He’s truly going to injure her.

YN is in a full-fledged panic induced state.

Then suddenly, without warning, a strong arm is being wrapped around her middle and a big, ring-clad hand grips Arthur where it was around her neck so hard he yelps in pain and releases his grip.

The person is physically lifting YN off of Arthur’s lap, trying to steady her on her feet but they feel like jello and she feels light-headed, the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” The person’s voice is deep, raspy, and incredibly pissed off, “What the fuck is your problem?”

YN can’t even bring herself to look at Arthur right now, her full support into Harry’s side as she notices the two securities guards walking in.

“C’mon, let me sit you down. You’re okay but I want to check you out, alright? Yeah, c’mon, pet,” He encourages in a much softer tone, gentle and trying to comfort me as she struggles to catch her breath.

It takes a long second to realize that she’s crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, and fuck, she is so embarassed as every other member had stopped playing.

“We’re done for the night. We’ll re-open tomorrow at the normal hours of operation,” Harry announces to the room at large before looking to Raven, “Go close down the private rooms.”

Raven nods, no longer as smiley and bubbling but an expression of concern as she watches what’s going on with YN.

“Hey, darling. Can you tilt your head up?” Harry asks quietly once he sits her down in the same corner that he had been in, away from the group.

YN whines because her neck is aching, she doesn’t want to do anything as the drop in adrenaline has made her more exhausted than she’s felt in a long time.

“I know, I know,” Harry simpers in an unpredictably cooing tone, he taps his thumb on her chin to signal her to tilt it up and she obliges.

Harry prods gently at her neck, focusing on the center where the pressure has been, “Any sharp pains? Anything feel off or wrong like you need to go to the hospital?”

YN shakes her head, a fresh round of tears.

She knew that she wasn’t injured or seriously hurt.

YN felt more traumatized mentally than anything else.

“I need words, want to hear your pretty voice,” Harry orders in a honey sweet tone, eyes hyper-focused on her like they were in the beginning of the night.

His eyes were green.

Close to the accent color of the club.

“I’m okay,” YN manages to speak out, throat dry and scratchy.

Raven appears with a glass of water to hand to Harry before giving them their space again.

YN is about to reach for the glass but Harry is already moving it towards her lips for her, “Drink f’me.”

It’s strangely intimate as he tilts the glass, eyes watching her carefully and a sense of guilt sets in that she likes that Harry is tending to her, giving her his full attention.

“Is this a common occurrence? Between you two?”Harry doesn’t sound as kind anymore, his jaw muscle twitches slightly.

“Um, no. We came here to explore. I’m very much into this world and he isn’t. He’s told me he’s done his research in his free time but -“

“You’re telling me that you’ve never negotiated nor tried something like this and he full fledge tries choking?” Harry interrupts, outraged from where he stands up from squatting in front of her, “Did you ask or plan for that?”

YN shakes her head, a bit embarrassed that she was coming off as an amateur to someone…she felt an attraction to, felt intimidated by, and Arthur had ruined their experience here.

“No. We tried spanking a few times but he backed out. We were just supposed to come here to watch others so he could visual what all this looked like before putting it into action-“

Harry doesn’t let her finish as he storms away from her, his glare set right on Arthur who was sheepishly sitting back at the bar and nursing a drink as Raven talked to him.

YN’s heart rate starts to rise again when Arthur tenses, clearly being chewed out by Harry before her fiancé gets off his barstool and follows the club owners lead down the hallway.

YN rushes to the bar, Raven is already pouring her another sprite, “Calm down. He’s not going to hurt him or anything. They just need to have a discussion on whether or not Harry will revoke his membership.”

It feels ruined and it never even started.

All she can think about is that despite for a short amount of time she was getting what she asked from Arthur, there was still no god damn spark.

After a good half hour, the bar phone rings and Raven answers, murmuring a few words back into the receiver before having up.

“I’m going to take you back to his office now.”

Harry’s office was just as luxe, elegant as the rest of the club.

It was tense as soon as she stepped in the room and Raven left, closing the door behind her.

“I’ve decided not to revoke your joint membership after discussion with Arthur. However, there are contingencies if you would like to continue coming here. Are you willing to hear them? Arthur has already agreed to the terms.”

YN nods slowly, voice soft, “Yes.”

Harry keeps his face on her as he speaks, “I do not tolerate what happened here tonight in my club. Arthur has clearly proven that he isn’t educated enough to be able to have free access to the club and free play.”

“If you want to continue membership, Arthur will need to reserve a private room and lessons will be held until he fully grasps the concepts, displays understanding, and can play safely without supervision.”

“Who…Do you have instructors?” YN doesn’t think she wants another man involved in their sex life even in an educational aspect.

“Yes but I will be teaching the lessons,” Harry informs her, calm as ever, “I bring this up because I would need to be hands on, to demonstrate and display certain practice, power play dynamics but that is a lot to ask as I do not know your limits on sharing.”

YN’s speaking before she even realizes it, “Yes. We can do that.”

Harry’s lip quirks slightly before it disappears but it oddly enough seems like a reward.

“We can schedule. I will send the paperwork. I already have your questionnaires about hard limits, likes, dislikes, and willing to try. I want to make this clear, this will be purely educational and there will be no dynamic developing between me and you two.”

YN nods dumbly, at a loss for words because the mere thought of Harry domming her was a lick of a flame that she’d been missing so much.

“I will dom you with instructions interwoven for Arthur. We will try to keep everything minimal as I cannot stress enough that this is not anything but informative on my end to help improve your sex life as a couple.”

Three longs weeks pass before their first ‘lesson’.

Arthur voiced excitement about the instruction, never brought up the choking incident again, and never initiated any type of sex during this time either.

Everything was swept under the rug as usual in their relationship.

YN would never admit the fact that she had gotten herself off to the mere idea of Harry domming her because something about him had triggered something carnal, something near feral in her.

It’s more than she had even felt with Klein.

She knew it wouldn’t last forever but she was going to enjoy this to the best of her abilities.

YN only had excited nerves going into the night.

Harry had inquired more in the break of time about YN’s experience and was extremely pleased to realize that she wasn’t as much of a novice as he assumed.

Though she hadn’t experienced many partners or relationships within the community, her knowledge was expansive and deep enough to impress him.

Harry had texted her back with a simple message that had her core tingling enough that she had to rub her thighs together.

YN: Thank you for continuously checking in on my comfort and experience regarding these situations. I have many more concerns for Arthur as we’ve already discussed. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!

Harry Styles: I do not plan to go easy on you. Unless you specifically want soft play for these experiences. I can be a softer dominant but my main modality is firm, mean, regimented with softer aftercare.

YN: You don’t scare me. ;)

She was already being bratty with him.

It sent a wave of good nerves through her as she waited for a reply to be sent to her inbox.

Harry Styles: It’s interesting that you’ve already started to decide to be bad for me when you don’t even know what I’m capable of, darling.

YN : I’m shaking.

YN: Terrified.

Harry Styles: I wish I could wrap my fingers around your throat right now. Show your fiancé the proper way to choke a god damn brat.

YN could feel herself pooling with arousal.

It felt a bit wrong but she reasoned enough with herself that it was all for the greater good of her relationship with Arthur but deep down she knew that was bullshit.

YN: You’re probably not much better.

Harry Styles: Quite honestly, haven’t worked with such a fucking disobedient bitch in a long time. I cannot wait to break you. A kitten who thinks they’re a big bad tiger.

YN: Fuck you.

Harry Styles: Kitty’s got claws.

Harry Styles: For now…

It felt bordering on inappropriate but YN reasoned again that Harry had made it clear that there isn’t anything happening, it is a strictly professional as a type of situation like this can be.

Saturday has come and YN wakes up to a text.

Harry Styles: Better wear something cute enough that I find you interesting enough to play with. Even if it’s just to teach.

YN rereads the message quite a few times and why is he so good at getting under her skin and she doesn’t even know him yet but it’s like he knows exactly how to wind her up.

YN: Black dress with tights.

Harry Styles: It’s good to know that you’re just another basic bitch.

YN: What will you be wearing then?

Harry Styles: That’s none of your fucking business. I call the shots, kitty. Not you.

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Good to know. Five spanks for the five emojis. Would you like to keep going?

She can’t even help herself

YN: 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

Harry Styles: Noted.

YN wants to reply, knowing he’s probably waiting but a tiny sliver of guilt starts to creep in when she thinks about Arthur because though she’s trying to convince herself this is perfectly fine.

It’s not.

Not with the emotions it makes her feel.

She hasn’t felt them in so long.

It scares her.

“Sweetie pie, are you having second thoughts? Should be getting ready,” Arthur steps out of the walk-in closet, adjusting the sleeve of his button up.

“No!” YN replies much too quickly, her tone high pitch, “Um, I lost track of time. I’ll get ready now.”

“Okay, I’m excited for this new experience with you,” He smiles sweetly, stepping over to press a kiss to her forehead.

It’s affectionate, loving, and she’s still thinking of other things than her fiancé.

YN decides on a black wide leg trouser with a corseted bodysuit that gave her tits the perfect push-up, she’s spray a very thin most of body glitter on her chest, she knew it would sparkle in the dim lighting.

She considered wearing the dress and tights to spite him but whatever, she’d be less easy access for him.

Arthur held her hand tightly as they entered The Body Factory.

YN was already searching for Harry, barely waving to Raven as Arthur leads them over but she doesn’t want a drink, she wants to play.

However her fiancé guide her to a stool, ordering for both of them as Raven has a look of curiosity as she slides them in front of him.

“Does he come out and get us?” Arthur asks Raven, looking around he doesn’t see him either.

Raven bites her lip, shaking her head with a chuckle, “No, I take you to your reserved room when ten hits.”

“What is it?” YN asks, unable to read what is going on the bartender's mind.

This conversation didn’t seem particularly funny.

“Nothing really. Harry just hasn’t offered private lessons for at least eight or nine years. Normally when couples have an incident like you did, Harry revoked their memberships without a second thought,” Raven informs them as she picks at a spot on the smooth surface of the bar absentmindedly.

“Why us?” YN wonders out loud, why after all that time did he make an exception.

“I wish I knew,” The bartender shrugs neutrally.

The deep chime rings out about forty-five minutes later.

YN cannot decipher whether she wants to throw up or jump up and down with excitement.

Especially when Raven guides them down a long hallway, then into another corridor until they reach a door with a sign that warns, “No members past this point. Private access only.”

“Um-“ Arthur goes to point out the sign, he was a rule follower to his core.

“It’s Harry’s private playroom that members can’t use but again, this is special circumstances,” Raven’s voice is hushed as she leads them into a surprisingly minimal room.

There were cabinets built sleekly into the walls where all toys and accessories must be held, a matte black.

Everything matched but there was a bigger prominence of the green accents that were more subtle in the main areas.

The play bench hardware matches everything else but the cushion is a luxe emerald.

The bed was…unlike anything she had ever seen.

It was massive but fit well in the spacious room.

High posts on all four corners with subtle hooks to place restraints in.

The mattress looked fluffy and giving, it looked as if the sheets were a black silk but the duvet was a very muted pattern of black and green diamonds.

YN was in love with space.

It was so much more than she was expecting.

“Holy shit,” Arthur gapes at the elegance, clearly he had been expecting something different too.

“Okay, when Harry comes in, he will already be in the dom headspace and so he wants me to give you reminders. Harry will respect your hard limits as he’s reviewed them before the session. You have received a list of his so please do the same.”

“Just as you can safeword out at any time without consequences, Harry can as well. He will use the same ‘red’ if need be and will check your colors throughout to ensure safe play.”

“For this first lesson, Arthur you will sit and observe. Harry will display a safe, typical scene of play to understand what that looks like with whatever kind of submissive YN is. You may also use your safeword at any time to stop the play.”

YN swallows because would he allow that?

Surprisingly, Arthur’s face is still clear and happy as he starts to walk over to an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and smiles at YN, “Can’t wait.”

YN raises a shocked eyebrow at his willingness but nods at Raven to show she understands.

They’re silent as they wait for Harry.

She wasn’t given instruction and because she was a bit nervous, she perched herself on Arthur’s lap as he rubbed her thigh and kissed her shoulder blades occasionally.

Then there’s a shuffle outside the door, the door knob twisting and the door opening.

Harry looked ethereal.

He wasn’t wearing a tailored suit like before but leather boots with a bit of a heel, form-fitting jeans that make his lean quads look biteable, and a plain black shirt.

His arms had even more beautiful ink than YN realized.

After Harry closes the door, his eyes lock on hers, not even acknowledging her fiancé’s presence.

“Stand up,” Harry orders loudly, a bit startling.

YN obeys instantly, her heart was pounding in her eardrums like waves of the choppy ocean.

A cruel smirk tilts on his lips when he scans her up and down.

“Did I strike a nerve, pet? This isn’t a black dress and tights. Are you already starting off so insecure? And you think you can handle me. What a cute, pathetic little kitten,” His voice is venomous, steady, and she’s clinging onto every word.

Arthur’s clearly confused but stays silent.

“I’m not pathetic,” YN argues shakily, it felt dangerous to get bratty so soon but it was her submissive profile and character, it came naturally.

Harry quirks a brow, “Sir.”

YN gives him her own confused look.

“I’m not pathetic, sir. Every time you speak, try again.”

“I’m not pathetic,” YN bleats easily, a flutter of her eyelashes.

Harry smiles like a goddamn wolf.

“Oh, you’re not? Let’s test that theory,” Harry draws as he takes a few steps backwards, towards the door, “Come to me.”

YN stands up, on wobbly legs, and begins to but is stopped in her tracks by his hard voice.

“Hands and knees. Crawl for me, I want to show your fiancé how pathetic you are for me,” Harry has a humor, an evil sense of it.

YN drops to her hands and knees, nearly panting already, and begins to move.

summary of triggering scene: YN’s fiance chokes her and though it’s completely consensual he doesn’t know what he’s doing and almost hurts her. YN cannot safeword out at the time but harry stops the scene.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harrystyles #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harrystylesfanfic #fan fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #patreon

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myouicieloz · 5 months

Text

💭 richgirl!aeri x studentathlete!reader

not proofread j some silly thoughts💕

pt.2

- you were thrilled to know you were going to share a dorm with another international student, specially since you were having a hard time adjusting.

- giselle was a sweetheart from day one, introducing you to everyone and making sure you always felt included.

- she was very classy and noticeably wealthy—you could tell, by her clothes and by the way she carried herself, that she came form money. besides, whenever you’d go out to fancy museums or coffee shops, something would always make your eyes grow big: always amused to your surroundings—yet she’d never bat an eye at it.

- you were given a full ride scholarship, and the only reason you were attending this specific university was due to the soccer coach spotting you at an international club tournament you played in new york and scouting you. you were hesitant, at first, but you weren’t going to get an offer to a university that was that prestigious at home anyway, so you decided to go.

- your parents were still paying for your stay, with much effort, so you tried to spend as little as possible.

- which meant subtly ducking from your roommate’s daily coffees and girl dates.

- giselle actually thought you didn’t like her until she realized you spent most of the time in the dorms because you were quite literally broke.

- it’s an issue she solves quickly enough.

- at first she just bluntly offers to pay for your stuff, but stops herself as you keep denying her efforts, with a flustered face. it’s only when she changes techniques that she starts succeeding in her efforts.

- she’s subtle, then: giselle gifts you clothes she claims that are “thrifted”, makes sure there’s always your favorite drink placed on your desk whenever you return from your practices, buys you the shoes she caught you lurking on the internet for far too long, claiming it’s your birthday present—even though your birthday isn’t until the upcoming months...

- accepting a purse she claimed she’d never used and “was in her closet for ages”. you later get told by a classmate said purse was just out of stock in seoul, even though it had just been announced

- you don’t suspect a thing, keeping her little gifts and dismissing them as just little treats she gives you as a friend. it’s giselle, after all. she was born into luxury, and gift giving is her primary love language.

- besides, you grew tired of rejecting her efforts to spoil you, and you hate to see her so offended when you tell her you just can’t keep that many presents. you hate the faces she does when she doesn’t get what she wants. and it frustrates you to not be able to gift her just the same. you wish you could spoil her rotten, too.

- as you stop telling her ‘no’, giselle becomes more and more confident.

- “it’s what roomies do, Y/n, don’t worry.” she assures you every time you try to give her the gifts back. in reality, giselle loves to see you dolled up in the stuff she chose. being the star player, you quickly gained popularity, so what better way to tell those useless whores who were always ogling you that you belonged to her already? what better way than having her brand all over you?

- she even gave you a friendship ring, as she called it, once you two went to the university’s fall ball, to symbolize how deeply you’ve connected since you started attending uni.

- you were basically either with your teammates or aeri and her friends. she was pretty, outgoing and naturally insanely popular. she dragged you with her everywhere, having you follow her around like a puppy. you didn’t mind, though: her friends were funny enough, and you liked getting to hear the drama and the gossips without being a part of it. they were also always polite to you, too, so you enjoyed hanging out with her and her group. they weren’t your friends, though. you reminded yourself that every now and then. just colleagues.

- she loved how shy you got when she touched you, too. it took her much, much patience, but after nearly a whole year, you were finally comfortable enough to be relaxed at her touches.

- an occasional hand on your waist, a kiss on the cheek; hugs that went for perhaps too long, cuddling sessions in the dorm as you watched her turn her buzzing phone off (she had a party to attend when you called her for a movie night. “oh, it’s ok unnie!! have fun.” you told her, but giselle was already sitting beside you and grabbing a hold of the blanket for herself.)

- she insisted on cuddling until you fell asleep too, even though your bed didn’t exactly fit both of you. however, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny her anything, already feeling like you owned her so much. she was the one who was always taking care of you, not only with her little gifts. she was always asking about your practices, if you needed any help with your classes, whether people were being nice and polite to you, since you still struggled with your korean when talking to many people at once. you were truly grateful to have her, so, naturally, you’d do anything for her.

- you’d often find yourself waking up with her hands groping your tits or lingering too close to the hem of your panties, but you’d never think much of it, dismissing it as your friend being just unconscious while sleeping.

- she was possessive, too. you could see the cold stare she gave your teammates whenever you had one of them over to study. funny enough, they never looked at you the same way again, nor did they accept your invitations to host movie nights anymore.

- your only friend (besides aeri) was jini. you were both new to the team and had many classes together. like you, she was shy, lost and very reserved, which was part of the reason you instantly clicked. you enjoyed hanging out with her between classes and practices, even more once you got to know her a bit better: jini was actually quite energetic and bubbly, always talking about her favorite mangas or the new songs she was listening to. you liked to hear how passionately she talked about things, sometimes so immersed she wouldn’t even notice you getting left behind in the sea of people, as you walked through your classes.

- naturally, giselle despised your teammate, always making sure to hug you extra hard and send her hard glances whenever you looked away.

- whenever she felt as if you didn’t have 100% of your attention on her, she’d buy you a fancy gift: an ipad of your favorite color, a watch, new earrings... it kept you clingy for days, entertained with your new stuff; just as she liked it.

- the first time you fucked, the two of you had just returned to another one of her fancy dinners with her friends. you were drunk, hot, and messy, struggling to get out of the small black dress that clung tightly to your body— which, of course, giselle had chosen for you to wear. you asked for help to take it off, but as soon as you felt your roommates long fingers trace your bare back, you lost it: you turned around, kissing her fiercely as the dress fell onto the ground, leaving you completely exposed.

- a wave of winds roamed through the window, hitting your body and making you shiver, feeling your nipples harden and your conscience returning. you took a step back, murmuring apologies and being extremely embarrassed, until you felt her hands on your waist again, pushing you onto your mattress as her body hovered on top of yours.

- she whispered it was ok; her pretty pet was horny, that’s all. she’d take care of it. and so she latched her mouth onto your body, making you moan loudly.

- you woke up still dizzy, with your body filled with bruises. you were still ashamed but deeply satisfied, and aeri brushed your hair as she said you could still be friends or something else, if you’d like.

- from then, you’ve been her girlfriend, though things had hardly changed. only now, she encouraged you to be vocal about the things you wanted her to buy for you, and you had to work for them.

- regardless, you love being her pet ;)

bonus: you didn’t realize you were kind of her sugar baby (even though she was only months older) until one of your teammates pointed it out, giving you a whole lot of harsh words and making a show of talking about how you were only with aeri because of her money. you ignored your girlfriend for a whole week after that, until she decided she’d given you plenty of space and confronted you with a serious tone. you started crying and she listened attentively as you explained the filthy words your teammate had said to you and all of her twisted suggestions. giselle nodded and pulled you close, kissing you and reassuring she knew none of that was true. yes, you were kind of a sugar baby since giselle spoiled you so much, but it didn’t have to be like that if you didn’t want it to be. you brushed your tears away, saying it wasn’t that; the girl’s words were just so agressive… the thought of people feeling so sure you didn’t love giselle as much as she loved you was overwhelming, which was why you distanced yourself. she understood, murmuring for you to tell her immediately when such things happened instead of refusing to see her, which you nod as she kissed the top of your head.

the girl gets expelled from your team 2 days after your conversation with giselle. however, you don’t connect the dots, only shrugging and not paying much attention to jini’s words as you walk to the cafeteria.

#aeri uchinaga x reader #aerichandesu #aeri uchinaga #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa giselle #aespa scenarios #aeri uchinaga x yn #giselle x reader #aespa x yn #aeri uchinaga smut #sol writes

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tarjapearce · 20 days

Text

Bad Teachings (Pt. 18)

Older! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: angst, parental abusive relationship, arguments, emotional distress, comfort towards the end, fluff, Soft! Miguel, Romantic and soft smut, p in v sex, oral (F! receiving) relationship stablishment.

Summary: Something is born from the chaos' ashes.

A/N: Te quiero is a softer yet still affectionate form of an I love you. (It is said in the early stages of a relationships) ✨

(P. d. Hope you enjoy as much as I did :'3)

Chapter's song:

"So, you and..." Peter cleared his throat while Miguel added a couple of coffee filters and packages into his cart. Peter secured Mayday's baby carrier and added a couple of granola in his own.

Grocery shopping proved to be as effective as a stress reliever and a multifunctional task. While both men restocked for their homes, the act of sharing secrets came in hand with it.

"What about it?" Miguel grunted as he examined the ingredients of a creamer and returned it back to the shelf to then grab a couple of cereal boxes. Granola and berries for him and almond and honey for you, something he noticed you ate ever since staying at his home.

"Oh, nothing. Just... took me by surprise to know you were back in the dating scene. You're dating right? Wait, stupid question, of course you are, you're freaking living together."

Miguel stared at him with a quirked brow and a deadpan.

"I'm more surprised you barely remembered her, when you agreed to help her out."

Petter grunted with goof chuckle, "Again, I'm sorry. I forgot about it."

"No te olvidas la cabeza porque nomás la traes pegada." (You don't forget your head cause it's stuck with you.)

Miguel's grumbles brought Mayday a giggle as she clapped at her papa getting sassed at.

The both moved to the meat section and filled the carts with an assorted selection of cuts. The background music made Mayday sway her feet and mumbling along at the lyrics.

Miguel chose between some steaks, and Peter asked for some things at the clerk.

"For how long have you been, you know, dating and all that?"

"It's recent. Almost a month perhaps."

Miguel then moved to the flours section and got some corn added to his cart, Peter in the other hand just tossed in the already made tortillas package.

"Wait... So, let me get this straight. You just recently started dating and you're already living together."

Miguel shrugged nonchalantly and sighed, "Basically. It wasn't planned though."

"Huh?" Mayday slapped Peter's face softly, trying to get his attention while pointing at a bright colored package of ice cream. He put the thing in his cart without much thought, "What do you mean it wasn't planned?"

"Long story short, her apartment flooded, the shitty man she has for a landlord never helped out, she's having it bad with her parents. Couldn't let her go back to them-"

"So you stepped in"

"That's sums it up."

A couple of emotions, crossed Peter. Surprise the main one. Everyone talked about how much he had changed ever since he got married and had Mayday, but in truth, he had also been an spectator the whole time. He had witnessed first row how many of the people he surrounded himself with had changed, Miguel wasn't the exception.

He remained ever blunt and hard around the edges, but these had softened, like him.

Was this thanks to you?

Undoubtedly. He didn't know the circumstances the sudden relationship had been born under, but his friend seemed at ease, nearly happy. It was enough for Peter. Plus he got to see him more.

Even though you were their student, he supposed that title was long left behind ever since you graduated. There were many questions that crammed up into his head but wasn't sure to ask, given Miguel's reserved nature. But as his best friend, Peter assumed being that granted him at least more trust above the rest.

"When did you started to-"

"Parker" Miguel chided and Peter huffed

"C'mon, pal. I mean, if you're gonna start bringing her around reunions and stuff, I gotta know, so I don't mess up again."

Miguel kept filling his cart with some toiletries and a couple of things that reminded him of the little things that made you, while partially ignoring Peter.

He took two pairs of dark socks for himself, but stopped in the woman's section.

"Been thinking about something actually." Miguel mumbled as his eyes darted through the array of fuzzy ankle length socks you'd probably stop to gawk at.

"And that is?" Mayday screeched as soon as she saw the socks and Peter's brow quirked when Miguel picked up a pair of black ones and purple. He ended up tossing in the purple socks with some lighter shade hearts imprinted on them, alike the ones he saw you wearing the first night you slept next to him after the incident.

"I'll ask her to move in with me."

Peter's eyes blinked, nonplussed.

Who was this man before him? More importantly, what had you done to him? How had you cracked his walls so effortlessly when he had taken years to open up to him.

"Are you...?" Inlove?

"Sure? Isn't it too soon?"

"Maybe."

He shrugged and added a couple of white tank tops in the cart.

"I know I'm serious about it."

Of course he was. If there was something Miguel was known for, was his unabashed commitment once he got into relationships, even if they failed. Tempest had also lived with him for four years. A natural thing to happen according to his brain.

But even so, something couldn't help but feel off..

"Right, but do you think she'll agree?"

Miguel's shoulders slumped, a hand passed over his wavy strands, trying to soothe the sudden doubt Peter awakened.

He wouldn't pressure you into things, but the idea had been roaming in his mind for quite a time. But solidified as a possibility that night you comforted him after that nightmare. He wanted you there, but also feared it would be too much.

Was he being too much? Even at his fourty two years of experience there were things that still made him feel like a young and coy man, unsure of his next step. He's never been good when it came to expressing himself without feeling panicky or awkward.

Miguel knew he wanted you there, with him. Attraction was undeniable between both, and there was something he couldn't put a name yet. Adoration perhaps? Love was too soon to get in both's vocabulary, even though at times he was oh so close to blurt that out because his body demanded it.

He could say Te quiero, a softer yet still version of a powerful I love you. Cause he was taking his time in enjoying you and whatever thing that bloomed between the both completely and throughly. And what a better way to do so than securing a place within his home specially just for you?

"I hope so." Oh the mess you made out of him.

Peter's breath hitched upon his reply and exhaled deeply. But there was one little detail in the way.

"Have you, uh... Told her about Gabriella?"

Peter tried with all his might to not touch sensitive fibers that even to this day, made his and Miguel's heart splinter in many heartrending directions. Even more when he saw Miguel's shoulders tense up and his head shake softly.

"Haven't found the courage yet."

Mayday yawned and curled her head into Peter's chest.

Not that Peter blamed him, despite years parading through them both and their friendship, Miguel was unable to talk about Gabriella without turning in this blameworthy and broken man that would berate himself to death if possible.

"Well, if this is going for the long run, wouldn't it be better that you'd sit with her and talk about it? I'm not saying explain detail by detail, but just a concise thing for her to understand you a bit better. It'll make you both stronger, if that's what you're aiming for."

It was Miguel's turn to stare curiously at him. MJ had definitely been a good influence in his life.

"I'll talk to her when the right time comes."

"Hopefully your time isn't too late, pal. But in all, Hope everything works out for you both. She seems good"

"She is"

Too good for me at times.

----

You've never been one for being explosive, but this situation was purposely and constantly picking at your past wounds that scarring was proving itself tricky.

You didn't want to make Miguel concerned or upset given his sudden mood swings after that nightmare. And as much as you wanted to know, life made sure to keep you busy with a good dose of 'mind your business' in the shape of a call from none other than mother.

Apparently Mr. Cufton contacted her since you missed a couple of calls, probably to discuss something regarding your apartment. And now, you were on the door of your old home. It felt like yesterday everything had turned so chaotic and blurry

Neither Hobie or Mrs. Brown were there to save you this time.

As soon as you reached the end of the hall, mother appeared in the elevator along Mr. Cufton.

They talked like nothing was wrong in the world, like if they had been intimate friends for quite the time, like if she hadn't mouthed him when the chaos happened. A shudder came down your spine, as nauseas fought for control on your throat. Mother settled her eyes on you, her skin crinkling as the smile reached her gaze.

Oh god...

Mr. Cufton on the other hand remained with a reserved smile, and soon approached, greeted you and opened the door.

The smell of mold reminisced in the air despite it being long gone. The once jagged and bleeding open wall, was now immaculate and pristine as the first time you signed the lease. There was no longer that annoying drip drop from the kitchen, and the water was no longer freezing as Mr. Cufton showed you and your mother the repairs.

"I truly apologize for the silence in my end. Was doing everything in my power to get this fixed before a new administration comes up."

"It's alright." Was all you managed to mumbled as your eyes raked over the visible parts of the place.

There was a translucent plastic covering the windows and strapped at the walls. The smell of the oily paint emanated from a bucket and tools placed in the corner where you'd put your old books before Miguel assembled your favorite shelf.

Dust flowed through the void, earning a sneeze from Mr. Cufton. Your mother examined your room and every space and area your eyes were reluctant to probe yet.

"So it's ready to be occupied again?" Mom asked as you looked through the hallway, waiting for Hobie or his mom to suddenly appear and spare you from the gnawing dread clutching at your chest.

"Pretty much. Within a week you could move back in if you wanted to make it immediate. Or we could assign you another room. Some tenants didn't renovate their contract and left, and there's a single bedroom place in the upper floor if you're interested that is."

Wonder why.

Your lips pursed at the sudden thought. Another room sounded good, you had heard the upper floors had the best views and renovations. All you had to do was to pick. Yes for the upper floor or wait for a week more to move back in the place you had been calling home for the past two years.

What about Miguel?

You swallowed and rubbed your eyes while heaving a deep exhale.

"What do you pick, sweetie?"

Her voice snapped you out of the trance your brain had suddenly put you in. It was going to be a difficult talk.

"Hm?"

"Which one you'll pick?, the upper floor sounds good, unless you can wait a bit more. Wouldn't mind a bit of consideration for my knees."

Mr. Cufton and she laughed, but your mind was elsewhere. The timer had come to an end to your little fantasy and reality was dragging you down through broken glasses.

How could you explain him that you could go back? Would it change anything to be apart from him? You'd grown so used to him at this point that your nose had already memorized his smell, the exact amount of roast he liked in his coffee, his sweat after returning for his Sunday's early workouts, the mezcal he drank, the strawberry perfume that came from the black door, and the cologne he sometimes used just to have you locking your arms on his neck, and pecking his face until you got more than an airy chuckle from him.

All of that, soon gone to be replaced with the unpleasant musty and moldy smell that took you two weeks to get rid of when you first moved in and stagnant loneliness. Even though your apartment had the perfect temperature for so many things, you had somehow grown used to Miguel's cold place. A perfectly convenient excuse to snuggle against him and sleep in his arms. Not even a pillow could compare to the comfort and softness he offered.

All soon gone.

Mr. Cufton left, but your mother remained glued to the floor, the door's click brought you back to reality again

"Tell me you're staying here."

A tremor invaded your senses upon realizing a bit too late you had been left alone once more with the final boss.

"I don't know. I waited so long for this that it doesn't feel good anymore."

"You'll get used to it. I know. You're a smart girl."

"Am I?"

It escaped your mouth with such incredulity mom jarred her arms in her waist with pursed lips.

"Where have you been staying?"

There we go.

The brewing anxiety had prepared you for this kind of impacts, the more you were exposed to them, the more you started to identify the signs, the easier was to turn completely guarded. Your armor was already on and strapped, ready for the verbal spar.

"With a friend of mines." You headed for the bathroom to see how the fixer uppers worked but mom's words stopped you right in the wall's frame.

"Is Mr. O'Hara that friend?"

The implicit accusation remained there, etching at every apparent calm word that came out of her. Your name was called and your hands bawled into tight fists. Manicured nails digging in the fat of your palms.

"Is he?" Her tone demanding and severe.

"God... Yes! Okay?! Yes. I've been staying with him!"

You nearly roared as you turned around, one of your hands squeezed the keys so tight some of them indented their shape on your flesh.

The disappointment in mom's face was so familiar you had been immunized with it, leaving nothing but the urge to flee. But this time, there was no place where you could go and hide as everything was bare, stripped to nothing but the main arena you were having your match. The first punch had been delivered.

"Why..." your voice broke, "Why can't we have a conversation without ending up fighting?."

"Oh cut it. Don't give me that right now when I just found out you've been staying at your teacher's house! How indecent is that?! What were you thinking?!"

Your chest thrummed in such a violent compass you felt it growing tighter, just like the knot in your windpipe. Even though you didn't want it, life was forcing you to face this. To face her even if you screamed and begged to not.

"To run away from you! You suffocate me, alright?!" Your voice, though broken, came firm enough to have her nonplussed for a second.

"No. No, no. This isn't about me. You're... You've been sleeping with Mr. O'Hara haven't you?" Accusation was no longer able to be hidden, and this only set everything inside you ablaze, "Haven't you?!"

"What if I have? You're gonna ground me for that?"

Mother's eyes were blurred with the emerging tears.

"Oh god..."

"Oh god, what?! Mom. He has been helping me through this instead of-."

"I did not raise you to be like this." She mumbled while pacing with shaky hands on her mouth, mumbling over and over. You had to lean on the wall to gather up a bit more strength before round two happened.

"This is exactly why I don't visit you and dad. You're always at it! Always! Why can't it be different for once?!"

"'Cause apparently that's the only way you can understand!" her voice grew an octave higher

"Understand what?! That you're awful!?"

Your words managed to assert a blow on her armor.

"My goodness," She hiccuped as her hands wiped her rolling tears, "Everything your father and I have done is for you to be well! I'm just trying to protect you!"

"Protect me from what?! From someone that has been doing everything to kept me afloat?!"

"He's your teacher! Your fucking teacher! " Mom roared, "Double your age! Goddammit, your dad is just a couple of years older than him! You could have fourty and still that's inappropriate!

"And still he's a better companion that you both."

"Don't you dare disrespect me like that, young lady!" She waved an angry finger at you.

"But it's okay if you do?! It's ok for you to barge into my life, try to control everything, and decide with whom I get to sleep with? I haven't fucked him if that's you're worried about!" You seethed

"Are you hearing yourself? You think Mr. O'Hara loves you?" Her eyes stalked yours, moving her head in every direction your head moved

"Stop." You rejected her however, trying to get to the main door and leave. But all her anger and frustration had been left out in shape of words that marred eachother.

"He just wants your body! The fucking heat you give to his sheets for him to not feel lonely at night! You're so gullible into thinking that he cares for you!"

"He cares for me more than you could ever do! He doesn't criticise me over stupid things, doesn't treat me like a stupid porcelain perfect doll, He treats me as a person! "

She took your shoulders with a surprising gentleness you weren't used to from her ad she shook you gently.

"A person that is falling into his trap! Older men are no good. He will care for you until he grows tired, until someone else amuses him. And once he gets what he wanted, he'll throw you away-"

"Stop!" you pleaded and she did, only when she saw your tears rolling down the cheeks. A sigh heaved from her lips, and you wiped your liquid pain off your face.

"I won't be there for the holidays, I'm-."

"Don't be silly. Og course you'll be there-"

"I won't. I'm done. I-I can't anymore."

Your hands recoiled from her instantly, as if you had been burned with the touch alone, you walked over the door but sensing the sudden shift in your tone, she clung to you once more, and unlike that time on the dinner, this time her sudden fear of losing you completely made her cling with all her might. But once more you managed to escape. You always did.

She begged your name but you conceded a last look her way.

"I'm... happy, dating a man that against all you've said, does care for me in ways I've never experienced before. And yes, mom. I might be whatever you weren't brave enough to call me for dating my old teacher from college, but I don't care. I... If it doesn't work then fine, that's how life is, but don't pretend to know me or him, cause you know shit about us."

Mom had to swallow a thick lump in her throat as she kept her hands to herself, "When Mr. O'Hara breaks your heart, you'll know where to find your dad and I."

You huffed while wiping the tears off your face.

"Don't worry. I've got some real friends this time for that. Take care."

You left, with a powerful slam on the door, closing that gut-wrenching chapter for good. Or at least hoped it was for good.

----

You had taken a time to properly calm yourself before driving back, but you didn't want to face Miguel yet. You needed to at least crawl up in a place where you could contain back your demons.

You didn't want to taint Miguel with them, he had been having enough as it is to add yourself as another toll.

You ended up driving aimlessly through the city, until the canvas in the sky turned completely jet black, with the moon and a few stars as the only dash of color in it.

You had stopped on a lookout, letting thr occasional intrusive thought of revving the engine alive and press the speeder. Before your mind took a dark turn, the buzz in your phone snapped your attention to the screen. Miguel's name in full display of the screen and the hour, 9:45, pm.

If you had any doubts in for how long you've been driving, the hour said it all.

I'll be home soon—

You texted, unable to properly speak. To then drive back.

-----

Miguel's nerves were set into make a disaster out of his head. Where were you? Why weren't you home yet? Were you in danger? Had you left him for good?

The door closed with a quiet click and his worrysome eyes immediately focused on you, and his brows immediately furrowed with a frown.

Your eyes were red, some areas remained puffy and swollen, and your overall aura seemed to be barely crawling to him for safety.

He didn't think it twice to standing up and cradling you so carefully into his arms before you could vanish, yet you held his cheeks and kissed him, not that he complained the way you kissed him, but how could he enjoy such thing when something was troubling you.

"Mi amor-" He mumbled but you kissed him again and pushed him towards the couch, his hands caught you, "Wait"

"Just fucking kiss me." Genuinely confused in your behavior, he sighed as he cradled your hunching and trembling form against him and put your head on his chest instead, kissing your forehead over and over while his hands rubbed in soothing circles on your back and damned be him if he didn't feel his heart break upon your meltdown.

Your hands clung to him, like the only good thing in your life, meaning he, would disappear from your fingers. Like all the words your mother said would come true.

"Wanna... talk about it?" You could sense the hesitation in his voice for such phrase. He was trying though, for you, he would.

He had prepared you a dinner to finally pop that question to make it official for you both. But hours kept ticking and ticking and he grew concerned.

And now that he had you in his arms, weeping and clinging to him, his priorities changed. His thumb wiped away the falling tears and kissed your lips gently.

"It's... alot. I don't wanna bother you."

"No no, nada de eso. Tell me what happened, please." (None of that)

With a stifled sniff you curled even more into his chest, "Mom happened. Again."

An annoyed grunt erupted in his throat and his lips puckered. The urge to keep you at his side anchored tenfold in his mind.

"She knows we're together."

Oh...

His brow twitched together. That wasn't something he expected, but as inevitable as it was, the discomfit grew. He was aware something like this would happen, but knowing your parents now knew and got defensive about it to the point of making you cry, was something completely different. But again, something less to worry about, they knowing now was better for them to find out later.

"I guess she didn't take it well."

"Course she didn't. She told me you... were just using me for warming your sheets and that youd grow bored of me... and-"

He kissed you deeply while his hands cradled the broken pieces of you. As if with that kiss alone he'd glue the most important remnants back together as his thumb caressed your cheek with such care as if you were a ticking bomb about to explode.

"Your mother needs to shut the fuck up."

A chuckle. His lips curved in a soft smile that quickly faded upon your next words

"She's convinced that you'll break my heart cause you're older and stuff."

You sat back in the couch, gaining a bit of space to exhale a proper breath. He stood squeezing his hands together to place them next on his waist. Your heart pounded in your already feeble ribcage.

"I'm sorry..." Your lips pursed upon the sudden mood swing.

"Don't move. Stay there" He quickly disappeared in the room, leaving zero time for rebuttals, to quickly emerge with a small package on hand.

"You really need to stop apologizing for everything, guapa." He handed you the printed paper bag.

"What's this?"

"Open it." He sat next to you, swallowing the rest of the space with his frame and watching you, expectant as your eyes lit up as soon as the fuzzy socks came into your view

"I..."

"Saw 'em back at the store, and thought you might like them. I'm still convinced the washing machine has the other you lost."

You half giggled half sobbed.

"Thank you" He cradled you once more and ran his long fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

How could your mother could say such things when he was proving you wrong? How could she say he was only using you when he remembered tiny and insignificant details about yourself?

The sudden truth laid bare on your tongue, hoping it wouldn't change anything between you both.

"Also... Mr. Cufton said I could go back."

His eyes softened as he took your hand and squeezed it. He had been way too caught up living the ultimate fantasy of you that forgot that little detail. Still, he gulped.

"So...You're going back to your place?"

"I... I don't know if honest. Cufton said I could take a room from the upper floor, a bit cheaper since he feels at debt

for not answering this whole time. Or I could wait a week more and go back to my old apartment."

Your throat was dry. Fingers quivered underneath him and he inched closer, gathering the courage to finally speak again.

"What if..." He passed his tongue over his dry lips and tried again, "Why don't you move in with me?"

He'd be a liar to say that he didn't melt under that surprised look you gave him. He could see your breath hitching in your throat, feel the tremor under his warm skin. You blinked. He mistook that for a hesitation.

"If you want to that is." He removed his hand to slick back nervously his hair, "I know is soon but-"

"You want me to stay?"

"Yes."

He nodded vehemently, without dither. Your hand enveloped yours in a tender embrace. He knew words didn't do the trick completely for you, so he took your feet and removed the shoes, then the socks, earning him an airy giggle from you.

"What are you doing, Miguel?"

He dressed your feet in the socks he chose for you and smiled as they perfectly hugged your feet in a warm embrace. An extension of his affection towards you.

He then cradled your face again and kissed you. His lips devoured yours like his life depended on leaving you breathless. Only to break it enough to mumble in between soft pants.

"I'm showing you."

Your skin crawled the more your heart thumped. His lips devoured you again and again until he loomed over your frame in the couch. His hands explored each dent of your body to finally hook them on your thighs and pull you over his lap.

He gently squeezed your ass, ebbing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

A gasp escaped you when his mouth donned your skin with a trail of soft kisses as his hands removed your sweater, coming in contact with a familiar yet annoying undergarment for him, to return to your lips

"Stay."

His eyes begged, his thumb pressed against your lips and you kissed it. Your fingers taunted the hems of his wool sweater, and slowly removed it.

A big hand grazed up your spine, igniting alive a shudder to then pull you down gently by the nape and kiss you.

He never got enough of your lips if honest. And the way your frame perfectly slotted against his, only reinforced the belief you were in the right place at the right time.

A deep shade of red bloomed in your cheeks as he held your body effortlessly and took you to your shared bedroom. After all, he was about to show you the meaning of everything he had said ever since the friendship's line blurred.

He laid you down on the bed, your hands reached for his face as he unbuttoned your jeans and removed them with care, eyes twinkling the more skin he kept discovering.

Your toes rubbed up and down his clothed thighs. His breath was cut short as soon as his fingers grazed your stomach, his thumb licked your skin deliberately, until the rest of his fingers barged into the party of sensations they were about to unleash.

He had to mentally slap himself to keep those leering thoughts away. This wasn't about him and his cock, it was all about you and your pleasure. As it would be from now on.

The gaze he scrutinized you with had your chest blooming with a warm sensation you thought never in your life get to experience.

His hands roamed and worshipped every curve, bump and slope of skin in you to finally release your breast. Unlike the first time he nearly ripped your clothes off, he treated your garments with the same respect he treated you.

A tinge of flush adorned his sharp cheeks, pupils blown upon the beatific sight of your bare breast, rising and falling in a nervous tempo.

His head dipped to kiss the slope of your neck, and descended once more down your neck, kissing and tasting your skin under wet kisses. You quivered.

"Eres tan hermosa, mi amor."

He crooned as his lips inched closer and closer to your already erected nipple.

You didn't know whether to moan or gasp from the ministrations he was putting you under. Your hand immediately clutched his scalp as his tongue played with your taut peaks, but his limb made sure to remove the last bit of clothes he deemed necessary to go. The socks he just put you, were the only thing covering you against the cold temperature.

Once the panties were off your hips, his hands reached for your breast, squeezing them gently, together. His mouth tried to cup them both at the same time.

Your feet turned bold as they pushed bit by bit his sweatpants off, but they still hung on the middle of his butt, half exposing the growing erection between his own thighs

"Déjame disfrutarte, preciosa." (Let me enjoy you.)

His face once again dipped in the valley between your breasts, placing soft kitten licks down your abdomen, his tongue dangled at every contraction your torso did.

He smiled at the goosebumps erupting in your skin, but chuckled at the soft mewl you gave him when his nose nuzzled the inside of your thigh as he hooked it on his shoulder.

His thumb flicked softly your clit, then spreaded open your folds, revealing your sweetness to him, earning him a whimper.

"May I taste you, mi niña?"

Your head bobbed, light with the swirling sensations inside it.

Miguel kneeled before you and parted your thighs while pulling your hips closer to his face.

Your hands crumpled the sheets underneath you as soon as his mouth delved in your flesh.

Your hips stuttered when the vibrations of his groan rumbled in your skin. His tongue tasted and pressed against the pearly nub of nerves with such hunger his senses felt relieved upon having your scent all over his taste buds.

His tongue curled and flattened on your moist hole, slurping with gentle sucks before returning upwards with a dribble on your clit.

His name rolling of your mouth was the perfect melody for his ears. His lips cupped your mount and feasted like starving man.

The sheer though of having you completely for himself from now on ignited this urge to show you how your life with him would be.

Pleasure was one of the many things he had in store, and now that he had a complete access in your life, he was ready to prove himself the opposite of what your mom had told you.

Your toes curling in and your muffled hiccups was the cue he needed to raise on his feet once more. A frustrated whine remained in your throat while your chest rose up and down at the beat of your erratic breathings.

And by God, you were gorgeous.

He removed the last bit of clothes that imprisoned him and held him back from having you.

But as much as he wanted and ached to have you quivering, crying and biting the sheets underneath him, he'd enjoy you.

He'll teach you what it meant to be his.

Miguel cradled you once more to accommodate the pillows underneath your head, to then place you above them with the utmost care he could muster.

But you were urgent and pulled him closer, earning another soft chuckle from him.

"F-Fuck me." Pleasure had made your brain a liquid goo, swirling in your head. In truth you had forgotten what was like to be in such way with someone else. Life had made sure to keep you busy and with a constant dry spell, but as soon as Miguel came back to your existence, this close and personal, your body seemed to function again.

And what better proof of it than watch him coat himself in your drenched folds, hissing at the heat that kissed and begged to swallow him whole.

How long had it been for you? months? Years? both? You didn't know. Casual things and friends with benefits were off the list since you didn't have them neither the time for them, and for some reason your body felt off. Shut down.

But this man before you, made magic cause your body seemed entranced to the point of only being responsive to him. In the few times he had you, he had learnt all your reactions to his ministrations. He knew what you liked, what got you quivering like jelly and wet.

His hands roamed your body once more, having a proper taste of your burning heat irradiating from every pore indented in your skin. He cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you.

Soft, sweet, packed with devotion and something so scarily beautiful you refused to put a name on it yet to avoid tainting it.

What he had done out of you? What he had turned you into? All you wanted to do was drown in him and his devotion.

"I want you to enjoy it, ok?. The proper way. Can I?"

His swollen tip pushed against your folds, taunting your muscles snd waiting for your confirmation

"Can I make love to you, mi amor?"

The question itself sent a new wave of sparks soaring through your body.

A breathless yes on his mouth was everything he needed to guide his tip inside, to push in slowly but stopped upon sensing you tense a bit too tight around him.

"Fuck" He grunted at the sudden grip on him, "mfuck, Dios mio." He mumbled while squeezing the pillow underneath his hand and your head with a breathless laugh. "Relax, preciosa."

"It's been ages, sorry." You chuckled and slowly followed his breathings to ease the discomfort and relax, allowing him to push another inch inside, filling you slowly and carefully. His lips pecked your face, planting soft caresses all over your countenance, earning him a giggle.

What had you done to him? He'll never know for sure, the only thing certain in his life right now was you. You had granted him the utmost honor of being yours.

With a roll of his hips and a moan he pushed in all of him inside. The way your tightness grope and kissed him was a complete religious experience, and he wasn't precisely a devotee.

But when it came to you, he didn't mind being on his knees, worshipping and doting you like you were his salvation. His light.

The delicious whimpers that escaped you only fuelled his adoration tab higher. Your insides felt like heaven welcoming him everytime his tip reached the hilt within.

The room's once cold temperature vanished as soon as your veneration started.

Even if his thrusts were slow, Miguel made sure for you to feel them to the fullest. Delving in and out, earning lovely whimpers and other delectable noises to his already hazed brain.

He drank from your breaths, tasting your mouth until you begged for air. Your thighs squeezed his narrow waist, and my, he had to bite his lip with enough force to remind himself it wasn't about his pleasure but yours.

His sculpted and muscular thighs separated.

"Hold on me" Miguel wrapped your trembling arms around his neck as he hooked an arm underneath you, to finally pull you upwards, towards him.

"Miguel!" Your teeth clenched as this new angle allowed you both to feel everything tenfold.

Your breast flattened against his well chiseled chest, rubbing your nipples in a soft back and fro motion, thanks to his hips.

Large and cinnamon hands squeezed gently your pair of supple glutes, guiding them ontop of himself, aiding you to properly receive his adoration.

"I'm so so close..." You breathed in between ragged and sharp inhales, kissing his lips and face over and over to then choke as he increased the pace enough to have you clinging to him and bouncing gracefully on his cock. Your face hid in the crook of his neck.

"No, no, mi amor. Mírame, por favor, mírame" (Look at me, please.)

Pleasure surely did a gorgeous display of his presence in your face. All of that perfect countenance he loved to kiss was pearled in sweat, a deep shade of red spreaded through your whole body, mouth shaped in a perfect 'o' that sometimes mutated into an 'a', breathing his air, crawling under his skin, and chipping away any last bits of his guarded heart.

There was no turning back, as the arrow kept pointing forward.

What you have done out of me?

Only he would and could provoke these things on your body. You were his.

The realization of such epiphany blurred his senses for a second he hadn't noticed he was kissing and grazing your neck with the prong of his enlarged canines.

The once forgotten taste, came flooding his memories in the shape of a whimper from him.

"Stay" He gurgled and your grip around his waist tightened. You rested your forehead against his, while the constant makeout noises from your union filled in the space around you with gentle and slow slaps.

The choke hold Miguel had into every fiber of you made you shudder and cry, drunk on pleasure.

"Please, stay. I can't-" He choked upon feeling his strength seeping away at the verge of his peak looming ominously on him, "I need you. You're-"

Another grunt that ended up in a growl as you trembled in his arms and groaned. Your nails dug on his flesh.

"So fuckin good f'me, mi amor"

His praising had sent such a powerful spark up your spine, that your body lurched impossibly closer to him, His hands immediately hoarded your wailing body, not caring much at how painfully delicious your tight walls spasmed around and trapped him in.

He laid you down and immediately drowned all of those exquisite laments with a deep kiss as his peak finally exploded within you.

His nose scrunched up and his teeth bared with the growl as he came. His back flexed and rippled at every messy and drowning breath he gave.

His hands immediately cupped your face, caressing it, letting the boiling breaths to fan each other's mouths, his forehead rested ontop of yours. Eyes ever soft and adoring at your tussled and perfect state.

"Eres toda mía ahora, preciosa" (You're all mine now)

He murmured, voice in a new tinge you've never heard before but sent happy jumps to your heart and fill your eyes with a happy glow. You just nodded, beyond enthralled in what finally laid ahead for the both, with a tired but honest smile.

"Te quiero*."

----

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@katitakenway @amylasagna @rositabluemoon @lyrasdrawer @plumplum2099 @damhanallagorm @chibiiichann @incustellar @taeecups @vonev @kinkybandages @del-ightfulling @tatatida @queenofroses22 @orangemango7 @migueloharastruelove @ctizu1 @vyxvi @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @namjooningera @d1lf-loverrr @niyanispunk

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@maomaimao @m4dyy @miguelbaby @mrsoharaxx @spiderpapi2099

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara smut #bad teachings #Spotify

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luffyrose · 1 year

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Oh Brother....s?

I had the most brilliant mini-idea while raging at video games because my parents suck at em. Anyway, there's really no correlation there, but the idea!

So we all know the whole "Danny is related to (Batkid) and he was give away because blah blah" or "he died and blah blah". We know those, and we love them, but what if, hear me out, Danny is related to MULTIPLE of them.

Danny is the child of Willis and Talia.

Now he was definitely not planned or anything, it just happened during a random mission and Talia couldn't bother to deal with it much. She decided that if the child lived she'd give it to Willis, a sort of test. It's not like she needed the baby, Damian had been born a little while before. Talia is one of those mothers who doesn't LOOK pregnant even when she's about to have the baby so basically, Danny does end up being born but is a really sickly kid, like REAL sick.

Of course, she really couldn't care less about the kid so baby Danny was given to Willis, who just gave Danny to Jason and Catherine. He's like 8 or so, so he isn't Robin yet, and he is SO happy to have a little brother. Except he's terrified for Danny, whose name was originally something else with Daniel being his middle name thanks to Jason (also why he kept the name Danny and not his original first name), but he doesn't want Danny hurt. After a few years, just before he becomes Robin, he gives a barely like 4-year-old Danny to a shelter or something with a blanket and a note.

Everything goes the same with both of them from there. The reason why Jason is easier on Damian compared to the others? He kinda looks like his baby brother, not identical but like, there's a resemblance, and he kind of finds it uncanny. Reason Talia even gave the time to help Jason? Well, he's technically the older brother of her younger child, and after having Damian for a while she does feel a little bad. Even if she doesn't want to meet the kid, she figured helping his older brother was a good enough way to apologize.

Danny remembers his older brother. How he looked and his name, and how he always took care of him. It's why even when his new adoptive parents neglected both him and Jazz he doesn't think anything is wrong. Jason had raised him. Now Jazz was. It was simply normal to him. He's just got major parent issues honestly.

The only people who know about his older brother are Jazz and Tucker though. His parents never were told because they'd been too busy to learn about it. Jazz had helped him on the earlier nights when he cried for Jason. And Tucker had learned when they first became friends as kids. Even if he was close to Sam, he never mentioned Jason though, it kind of felt like something he shouldn't touch anymore. It'd been years and even if he still had that star blanket, the note he vaguely remembers with it had been taken and put with his papers...and well he didn't know where those were.

Jason had already died and come back when Danny had the accident, so neither was aware of the other still. Danny does the whole hero thing for about 3 years before everything came crashing in for whatever reason, and he has to run. With no plan, he just follows his core and ends up in Gotham but he doesn't know why. Gotham herself is THRILLED to have him back because Jason was hers and this was Jason's little brother as well as her king! So she's trying to help the disoriented and hurt boy to his brother.

Cue shenanigans and angst though and it take a good MINUTE for Danny to even meet the Bats, let alone Jason. I'm thinking everyone meets him in one way or another before Jason is getting something from the cave while they're talking about this meta kid who LOOKS kind of like Damian but not at the same time, so they need to figure out if it's a clone or what. Jason sees the picture and is frozen, not even noticing the fact that he started crying while the whole fam is freaking out.

It's Damian, who looks between Jason and the picture, that notices the subtle differences that had them thinking it was still familiar were from Jason. And dun dun dun, it's Jason's little brother. He never knew who the mother was and after someone gets him out of his like mini-panic from knowing his brother was close by, he just bolts to his bike to go find him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I actually think I may make this a one-shot series. If anyone else wants to use this idea though feel free as well! Just tag me or smth :D

I honestly do think this is gonna be another thing I write though, I kinda love this idea a lot XDD

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palskippah · 5 months

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🌟How does Toadsworth react to Mario's pregnancy?🌟

I'm thinking that Toadsworth goes through a wide arrange of emotions when he's told, because:

His baby girl is going to become a mother (father's happiness, he's going to be a grandfather!)

His baby isn't a baby any longer [father anguish, she grew up too fast! (never mind that she's thirty-one now)]

His baby isn't married to the man she's going to have a baby with (father's wrath? Maybe he's old-fashioned like that and thinks that they should do the whole thing correctly!)

Overall, he's very happy, and congratulates both Mario and Peach eagerly, and goes on and on about how the experience of parenthood can be wonderful and has a lot of many great moments. How he remembers when Peach was a baby and how happy it makes him to see her grow and become the woman she is now- until he stops and realizes that Mario and Peach are going to have a baby.

And goes: "Wait, a baby? And you're not even married!"

Mario and Peach look at each other briefly, while Toadsworth frets about it and says that they must get married as soon as possible, before the baby is born. But Mario and Peach actually planned to get pregnant, and say so to Toadsworth, and they have no intention on marrying sooner because of that.

So, he's like, "But princess! The baby will not be a princess or prince if you don't marry by the time they're born!"

"They'll be royalty either way if we marry later," says Peach smiling, trying to take the seriousness out of the matter. Because she really, really doesn't want to get married yet*. "If we marry now, I'm certain I will not enjoy it, Toadsworth, and that's the least I want for the day I marry the man I love."

Mario's like respectfully listening and all, and goes 🥰 for a second at her words, and then serious again.

Toadsworth's like :c but still accepts that she wants to take her time on that matter. He sighs resignedly and shakes his head while Peach is clearly waiting for his answer on it, unsubtly worried (something silly like her with them big ol' eyes looking directly at him).

Finally, he says, "You're very set on your ideas, princess... But I think that's on me, I raised you like this." His words have a nice tone to it because he's smiling and looking at Peach fondly. She sighs relieved, and smiles brightly too, and leans down to hug her father again. She's glad he's comprehensive about it.

Eventually, Toadsworth gets over the fact that Mario and Peach are merely boyfriend and girlfriend and have no intention on marrying soon. Although, it does take him a very long time to come to terms with the fact that his baby is going to have her own babies, when just yesterday it seemed that she was too small for her crown.

Almost through all of Mario's pregnancy Toadsworth has these moments where he's nostalgic and remembering when Peach was younger. He's very happy for them, and hopes the babies have a likeness to Peach (they'll be the cutest babies if that were the case!)

Also, Toadsworth has a respectful relationship with Mario, because he's the man that always looks out for his daughter and also he's earned Toadsworth's respect through all his actions. Mario also has him in high regard due to the fact that he's Peach's father figure, and he's never given him a reason not to.

But Toadsworth still very, but very rarely asks to feel the babies, and Mario doesn't mind one bit about it (especially because he asks very nicely and Mario never feels like he can't say no), but the old toad is still a bit hesitant about it. He mostly does it when the babies are very big already and can easily be felt if you place a hand on Mario's belly.

Toadsworth mostly has conversations with Peach about the babies, when Peach asks for stories or advice on parenting. He gladly goes on long monologues (like the old man he is-) about his experiences while raising her, while Peach listens attentively.

And when the babies are born, he's best grandpa and gladly takes care of the girls whenever he can.

Nettarina and Mariella may look like two mini Marios, but they remind him very much of when Peach was a baby. He takes them on walks in Peach's stroller, talks to them about his day, and also reads them stories. Sometimes he gets emotional about how similar yet different it is from back then :'v

*Peach doesn't want to get married to Mario yet, and it has to do with Bowser's kidnappings. Maybe I'll do a post where it's more explained :y and also where it shows when they do get married, years later when the girls are older.

#super mario bros #mareach #my art #mario mario #princess peach #toadsworth #text #mareach fankid #mareach family au #mareach preg #thanks to the person that sent the ask!#i will do the next asks similarly sjjss #mareach preggy stuff #fankid

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ackerfics · 4 months

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my love is mine all mine ch 2 | toji fushiguro x female reader

part one of to the girls who are failed by the narrative series.

series summary:

'the glorified womb', 'the heir bearer', 'the blessed flower of the jujutsu society' — they are just some of the titles given to the women of your mother's clan, and all of them eventually fell to you, the prodigal firstborn who has the misfortune of birthing someone who will be stronger than their predecessors. with the fate of someone's clan on your shoulders, there are only a handful of things told to you while growing up; be as demure as you can be, never open your mouth and squash your thoughts, sit with a posture befitting that of a lady wearing an invisible yet heavy diadem. but the one that rings the most goes like this: your only purpose in this world is to be a silent wife to a man who will give you the opportunity to carry the next generation of powerful sorcerers. you remember all of these as you walk toward zen'in ogi in your uchikake, the constricting material around your waist akin to the gripping hold of your cursed technique.

and in fate's funny little ways of fabricating legacies and stories, you forget them when you are spirited away by the man who always welcomes the coming of the seasons with you without fail.

chapter title: in our circle of green

warnings: objectifying women, misogynistic beliefs, pregnancy, miscarriage, stillbirth, death

Toji already figured that the Zen’in clan was cruel the moment he could understand words.

Some say that the birth of his older brother marked the downfall of a clan so revered they were supposed to be placed on a pedestal alongside two families in the jujutsu society. Born with a cursed energy that didn’t make the shadows dance, Jinichi is the first ink blot on a pristine scroll of names. Their father, ever the people pleaser and the self-proclaimed heir of the clan, tried to appeal to the elders and the head who are all a bunch of stoic people whom Toji didn’t have the mood to list because they are so withered and grey they are almost unforgettable. Zen’in Ichiro begged them to give him another chance to prove that the Zen’in clan still had the potential to carry on the technique that spoke of them being shadow puppeteers.

And then came him.

While his brother earned cursed energy, Toji did not.

His life ended the moment it started.

He is used as an excuse for blows and barbed words. The scars littering his back and upper arms are just some of the few inflicted on him, the others healing with time. When they saw that his resolve wouldn’t easily break, all of the bruises and wounds went to his parents.

The family finally drove his father insane; and with his father spiralling, the suffering of his mother begins.

Then, came the blaming.

His mother, a woman so kind that she even smiles after receiving the end of his father’s verbal daggers, became a target for the elders. With the veins on her hand visible to the naked eye from how pale she is and the purple bags under her eyes from lack of rest, the wife of the assumed clan heir loved her second son despite being the one thing the Zen’in loathed. Dry hands cupped his chubby cheeks often, her chapped lips murmuring sweet nothings to his ears. She told him she prayed to the gods to make him just the way she was—normal and untainted by the world they were living in. They were words that would remain meaningless to him for they rang with false promises. He never understood her spending more time with him when he was younger. Until he saw her getting dragged by the hair after refusing to lay with him for another child that would become another failure. For the months that his mother endured, just this one rippling event made her take her last breath.

The reason for the death of his mother was him—the boon of the Zen’in clan.

All unlucky things revolved around him.

At least that’s what he was told when they pushed him into a room full of cursed spirits to test his strength.

There is a certain air of unparalleled dignity when covered by the rooftops of the Joushou clan compound, the potent air of purity ringing through the pillars holding it together. Compared to the Zen’in clan residence, those who bear the Joushou family name all lived in a small village in Kyoto, a space barricaded by so many barriers that Toji felt like it’s too much for a clan that isn’t within the triad of the Jujutsu society.

They are going to attend a funeral, his grandfather said. There was no mistaking that when the old man announced that everyone should be on their best behaviour, he was directing the words to both sons of his failed firstborn, specifically him, the boy they threw into a room of cursed spirits and the one they left scars on. When the creaking old man finally retreated to his chambers after the announcement was made, Toji could finally roll his eyes at the absurdity of the situation, the action never unnoticed by his older brother, judging by the low snicker Jinichi made.

Now, they are hiking toward the main house, a parade of black under the canopy of green and slivers of light. The chosen members of the Zen’in clan who were honoured (he wants to barf because it was exactly what the ancient old man said) to attend this funeral walked for about an hour; the compound of this family of purity or whatever they are called is that expansive. Toji swallows the complaint rising in his throat the more he feels his feet straining against the straps of his geta, choosing to keep quiet instead. He doesn’t begin to comprehend the complex layout of this clan compound. Why can’t it be a single house like theirs? With all the talk his uncles make about their family, one would think that the Zen’in clan is the epitome of perfection in the jujutsu society. It’s both bewildering and funny that they don’t hold a candle to the opulence boasted by the Joushou clan.

“Hey,” an annoying voice buzzes in his ear like a fly.

Toji stops giving the gravel his attention and places it on his ugly brother. “What?”

“You notice it?” Jinichi asks.

He keeps on looking at the dimwitted boy with hooded eyes. “What?” he repeats. Toji is not a repeater of his words but when it comes to Jinichi, he tends to do it a lot. His older brother has this habit of never fully explaining the context behind his words, one of the many reasons why Toji’s patience sometimes runs so thin it’s almost like a piece of thread now.

Jinichi rolls his eyes. “The barriers; it’s the twelfth now. ” A second of haughtiness passes in his eyes and he jeers at Toji with an air of superiority over him. “Oh, I forgot — you can’t sense anything.”

“Get to the point,” he grits out.

With a concealed smile, his older brother basks in his simmering irritation while gesturing around the towering woods with his chin. “Do you remember the stories that circulate about Father and Uncle Naobito? How they nearly went ballistic because of a woman so beautiful she managed to ensnare the Gojo heir as well?” Jinichi huffs a laugh, his eyes boring through the backs of their grandfather’s eldest sons. Toji’s eyebrows meet on his forehead at all the stalling. He is about to walk ahead when Jinichi continues talking, “That woman has a daughter and she’s about the same age as us. The barriers around this compound are all for her.”

That piece of information is anything but relevant to Toji. All he knows about the clan they are attending a funeral for is that they are so revered because of their strength that they can walk through someone’s Domain Expansion unscathed. This is the first time he has heard a member of his family mention a woman in this kind of light, almost worshipping with no shred of degradation and discrimination. His brother was talking about this girl with a tone similar to that of his uncle when he found the perfect woman to ruin. Toji doesn’t hold back the sneer on his lips, the scar pulsing with a phantom pain that lays out the image of grotesque humanoid creatures crawling on blackened walls and ceilings. He looks away from his brother and fixes his eyes on the nearing building ahead of them. Too bad there are no pockets in his black kimono. He would have buried his hands hours before.

“What’s that supposed to mean, aniki ?”

Jinichi cracks a chilling smile. “That means she could be offered as a wife to me.”

Toji snaps his neck to give the older boy a look painted in incredulity.

“I am the clan heir’s heir; it is imperative that I have a wife as bewitching, alluring, and docile as a woman born from the bloodline of the Hanamo clan. She will bring a new age of Ten Shadow users to our family and the Zen’in name will be stronger than it was before. With twelve—oh, thirteen—barriers protecting her from the outside world,” Jinichi snickers under his breath, “she must be a treasure.”

“Like I care about her.”

“Of course, you don’t,” his older brother scoffs. “You will never deserve a girl with that kind of calibre—you and your title of the clan’s disappointment.”

A vein nearly pops in his forehead. There is enough of the badmouthing Toji gets from the adults in the clan, he doesn’t need any more of it from his older brother who is a kid himself. “Do not test me, aniki. ”

“What are you going to do about it—grovel?”

“I will tear you to shreds like I did to the room of curses they threw me in,” Toji blandly replies with wide eyes. He notices the slight flinch making Jinichi’s shoulders rise but that is not enough to brew satisfaction into his body, which is already catching up to the older boy even though he is two years Toji’s senior. “So, you can shove your fantasies of marrying a wife made for carrying children right up your hairy ass before I do it for you.”

It takes Jinichi a couple of moments to answer, cold sweat dripping over his brow. “You don’t scare me, you little shit. You are just a fucking bug to me—amounting to nothing. Know your place as the outcast before spewing bullshit like that.”

Toji’s voice is kept within his throat, only choosing to look at Jinichi for as long as it takes until his older brother has enough. Jinichi walks past him, remembering to knock his shoulder against Toji’s. The impact feels like a breeze that only brushes on a piece of fabric. Even the force his older brother has to exert will never make him falter, which is why he is the perfect piece to twist in the puzzle that is their clan. How Fate laughs at him, he thinks; the strength given to him by the deities walking on clouds is the reason why he carries blemishes on his skin like battle armour.

He nearly lets out a scoff. All this is because of a faceless girl so fragile that she should be protected by how many barriers the sorcerers of the Joushou clan can produce.

Yet this faceless girl is anything but ordinary, living up to the hearsays passing around the halls of their residence.

She is small and the kimono covering her figure is embroidered with outlines of red flowers. It is the first time Toji has seen something so bright even with her hair covering the side of her face—practically blinding that he looks at the flower arrangements around the small coffin over her shoulder instead of her miserable face.

For someone who should be mourning for their little sibling, the girl never gives a glance at the displayed body in the middle of the room. Instead, she is tugging on the sleeves of her mother’s kimono, calling for her attention, which in turn attracts all those who are present. Toji can hear the murmurs of the adults around him — curious, unwarranted things that should not be said regarding children. There are whispers of her blooming beauty (how she will grow up to become the next bride touched by the fingers of Izanami) and the suffocating yet pellucid air of her cursed technique (calling to the flowers near him); they are all comments made by men who are older than her father.

Then, she turns around to fix her eyes on him and suddenly, Toji finds himself at a standstill—eyes blank and breathing stagnant as the flowers in her irises bloom with curiosity. She blinks and Toji can see that they touch the skin underneath her eyes.

It is only when she faces her father that Toji can breathe again.

He shakily lets out the sigh lodged in his throat.

A memory surfaces.

In the Zen’in residence on a certain day, there are dolls lined up in the main receiving area, all dressed in elaborate kimonos with the sound of their accessories twinkling from a single gust of wind from the open window. Toji remembers transfixing his attention on these dolls when he was four years old, his curiosity pulsing through his undeveloped mind to touch one of them. His fingers reach out and the tip of his toes carry him closer to the girl wearing a headdress that can tangle with a single nudge. The doll is almost calling to him—the crinkling eyes closing because of the smile on her face, the folds on her attire devoid of creases, and the platforms possessing patterns that match her partner. But Toji also remembers feeling a hand crack against his skin, pushing him from peeking through the edge of the display area and to the ground below him. He remembers the pain that erupted after his head roughly bumped on the hardwood floor. There was no time to whimper in pain because the hand gripped the tendrils of his hair in between their fingers. His eardrums nearly burst as he closed his eyes to accept whatever punishment the hand gave him.

The doll gives off the same feeling as the girl walking through the door. He is itching to reach out to make sure she is real but he knows once he does that, the hand will come back again.

“Man, she is perfect for me,” Jinichi muses beside him.

Toji never takes his eyes off the doorway where the main family of the Joushou clan disappears, answering, “Keep on dreaming.”

“You don’t think so?” Jinichi scoffs. “What? Are you planning on taking her? Don’t—you’ll only soil her holiness with your curse or the better lack of it rather. She will give birth to my heirs and the possible holder of the Ten Shadows cursed technique, mark my words.”

He makes no sign of using his voice. Toji flickers his eyes to the body of the little boy that will be burned later on in the ceremony. If the Hanamo clan can bring forth life with their wombs, why would the mother of that girl give birth to something dead? The doll-like girl then comes into mind—her fluttering eyelashes, the plushness on the apples of her cheeks, her eyes that seem to carry an entire flower field, and her air of only existing in dreams. Will she suffer through the weight of carrying death inside her? Will she assume that lifeless look her mother donned?

“What will you do?”

“What?”

He keeps on talking to Jinichi, “What will you do if she becomes her mother?”

“You mean to test our bond as brothers?”

Stupid. “If it comes to a point that she is not who our world tells us she is—giving birth to dead babies. Will you still accept her? Be faithful and not take any mistress like our father did?”

“Father is a coward,” Jinichi answers. “The women who have the privilege of being offered to us are the cream of the crop as the elders have been saying. We are told that they are the perfect women to breed children into and I will do everything in my power to make sure they will bring life instead of death. The Joushou girl is not an exception.” Toji feels his skin crawl at Jinichi’s smile. “In fact, her womb is the best reason to try and try again, am I right? I bet her father will do that to her mother tonight. Have you seen the look on his face?”

All Toji can offer as a response is silence.

“It’s the look of someone with a goal in mind. Maybe the next time we visit the Joushou compound is for a festival, not a shitty funeral for a dead kid.”

It’s another funeral—this time, not for a dead kid, but for the esteemed Lady Joushou instead.

The previous one was not as suffocating as this one and Toji is not an idiot to detect the miasma of tension surrounding the entire compound. With the Lady gone, the clan is in chaos—if the rotting smell of flowers drifting in the air is any indication. He can hear the elders of both the Jujutsu society and this family urge the head to find potential women to replace the one they have lost. It’s not a surprise to him—older men telling leaders what to do with the future of their clan, having lived in the most grappling environment he knows in his life—but it repulses him that they are outwardly discussing it in the Lady’s funeral.

The funeral rites have ended, the ashes are gathered, condolences are given, and Toji leaves it all behind to enter the withering gardens of the Joushou main residence. He may not have the capacity to feel cursed energy but he can tell that this decay is caused by the Lady’s death. With no one to educate him on the many clans in their society, Toji learned everything by himself. One particular scroll has been hidden away in the library of the Zen’in residence and they entail the history of the Heir Makers. It was only a year ago that he was curious enough to learn more about the doll’s familial lineage. Of course, the Joushou made a name for themselves with their impenetrable cursed technique but it is the Hanamo clan that made the doll’s birth possible. Just like their name, they have something to do with flowers and something about the manipulation of their souls—befriending them to follow their bidding. All of these are overlooked by the fact that just like flowers, they represent the essence of life—fertile wombs and precious beauty above all.

While he walks in this grey scenery, Toji is silent on his feet. Not a single sound emanates from his footsteps. The heavens are not that cruel—they still blessed him with an advantage against those who can sense cursed energy. There is no symphony of birdsong here, almost like they feel that their voices shouldn’t tarnish the melancholy dome around the compound. Toji blends in with the silence. His eyes roam around the dropping shrubs and the raining leaves, his hands nestling inside the sleeves of his black kimono.

A splash of green on the stiff grass catches his attention. He follows it. They form a line, stepping stones even, toward her.

The doll is crying in the middle of a pond of grass, her back turned from him. Her hair is pinned close to her head, her black funeral garb once again embroidered with red outlines of flowers that seem to bring colour to this eternal void. Even without facing him, he can tell she is crying from the way her tiny shoulders shake. Of course, she won’t notice him, nobody can, so Toji takes this time to watch her silently and let her heart cry for her mother. The sight in front of him calls all of his attention for her tears bring a solitary flower to sprout from the ground. It’s oddly beautiful, he finds himself thinking. He expects her to grow more flowers from her grief.

What he doesn’t expect is her looking over her shoulder to zone in on him, those flower fields for eyes arresting him in place and rendering him motionless.

The pounding of his heart echoes through the chambers of his heart, alerting the tingles in his stomach to flutter their wings. It’s different from the paced heartbeat he experiences whenever someone pushes him into the mud in the Zen’in estate. This particular reaction from just her making eye contact with him pushes the heat to climb to his face, dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It’s the first time he feels embarrassed about being noticed.

She is as pretty as her cursed technique.

“Who are you?” her voice carries through the dead garden.

Toji nearly jumps in place but he covers it with a cough from behind the sleeve of his kimono.

She cuts him off from answering. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Her eyes cut through the open shoji doors behind him.

“And you’re supposed to be out there,” Toji nonchalantly remarks with a thumb pointing behind him.

The doll blinks, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings on her skin. She looks away from him and blue washes over her tiny figure. “I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want to be there either, which is why I’m here.”

Annoyance flickers on her face as she juts her bottom lip in a pout. Toji blankly stares at the unwarranted gesture—cute. She really is like a doll; so fragile, dainty, and tiny that nobody has the right to touch her, including him. The distance between them will remain as is; something he will never lessen through weathering seasons. This girl’s existence is everything he is not and she is worth more than him, way more than his family can offer. She breathes life in her tears—who knows what she will bring with her touch. “The elders won’t like it if you’re here,” she finally fills in the silence.

“I don’t care what the elders have to say. I stopped caring a long time ago.”

She thoughtfully brings her attention back to him. “I remember you.”

Toji can’t help but wear shock on his face.

“You’re the boy who looked friendly two years ago. You were at my,” she chokes up, “brother’s funeral two years ago.”

So he did leave a lasting impression on her. For whatever reason, Toji doesn’t know.

“I think you’re the only one who looked friendly, that’s why I remember you.”

Him—friendly? He is described as looking like a demon spawn by many. Not to mention that he inherited his family’s signature harsh look, narrow eyes, and face always set in a scowl without trying. People will say otherwise if they heard what came out of this princess’s mouth.

“Hey, princess, I’m anything but friendly.”

“The flowers aren’t afraid of you, including this one,” she nods at the flower swaying in the wind, the only witness to their exchange and the first one to many to come. There’s no smile on her face but her tone suggests something that douses Toji in a foreign feeling. Nobody has given him this kind of attention before and it’s getting hard not to look away from her. “You’re not like the rest of your family.”

Toji scoffs. “Of course, I’m not—”

“I can tell you have more heart than them.”

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“If other people from your family found me here, this conversation wouldn’t be the same as the one we’re having now. They will tell my father and he will scold me like he scolded Mother. Or worse, they’ll pick me as a bride.”

He remembers his older brother asking their father about his possible betrothal to the treasure of the Joushou clan but Jinichi was instantly shut down by a drunk remark, saying that he will never be good enough for something precious as the girl. Toji also remembers Jinichi letting out his frustrations and anger at him in the dead of the night when the servants were asleep and the night was cold, pushing him out of the residence and forcing him to lay on the garden’s pebbled path as if it’s his fault for ruining a potential alliance—Toji is bad luck as Jinichi stated.

After gaining sentience and understanding, Toji hates everything that his clan stands for. So, he should also be hating this girl. She is the pinnacle of jujutsu and every special case is something to be revered at. However, looking at her right now, how can someone suggest that they marry someone younger than the youngest member of the Zen’in clan?

“You’re too young to marry anyway,” Toji replies while scratching his head. “What good would marrying a kid give to the old geezers I know?” He then sighs, “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be playing with dolls at this age? Why are you already talking about marriage?”

She looks away. “Because my mother is dead.”

“Hah?” he exclaims. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Her eyes dim a little and Toji curses himself for not thinking before speaking. “Father needs good alliances for ruining the one he has with my mother’s family. I’ve heard him talk.”

“And he’s what? Selling you to my clan?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Well, that sucks.”

The doll nods.

Toji clicks his tongue. “If they keep on pestering you to be their wife, you might as well just run away.”

She tilts her head, making her look like an adorable stuffed toy hanging on stalls in festival games. “Mother told me that would be the worst thing to do. Father would be angry and I would be chased.”

Something becomes stuck at the back of his throat. How will those words influence you when your mother is dead, is the unsaid thought lingering in his mind. He chooses to let them bubble inside him. Instead, he says, “If I were you, I would have run away from the moment I heard my father arranging marriage proposals. It sounds like an escape that I would want from everything if I’m being honest. And now that I’m thinking about it, marrying into the Zen’in clan will mean that you will become either my aunt or my sister. I don’t know which of the two I prefer.”

“I don’t think I’d prefer any of that either.”

Toji watches as she fiddles with the petals of the carnation resting on her palm. Hesitation keeps making him twitch, from the tips of his fingers to the shuffling in his feet. The distance between them lessens as he follows the trail of green toward her. His hands are still hiding in his sleeves and he paints a picture of nonchalance on his face, one that doesn’t betray how his heart is racing at the thought of being in the same circle as her. The doll he was reaching for when he was young is finally within his reach. He plops on the spot next to her, far from her and the flower but not that much to warrant any awkward air around them.

“Toji.”

“Hmm?” The girl doesn’t even flinch in surprise at his proximity.

He fixes her a glance, almost grumbling, “That’s my name—Toji. Figured that if you want my help in running away, you should know it.”

She finally smiles, a tiny one but still noticeable within the monochromatic background they are surrounded by, and his hands become sweaty at the sight. The girl doesn’t even know the power she has while doing it. A piece of hair falls from her elaborate hairstyle, draping itself over her shoulder, with Toji’s hand itching to push it behind her ear. What is wrong with him? He feels his face heat up while looking away from her. Unwarranted thoughts circle the caverns of his head, all concerning the girl beside him. Regretting his decision to sit with her in the only vibrant area of the withered garden, Toji covers the bottom half of his face with one hand, finding the gentle swaying of the breeze among the grey leaves entertaining.

“[Name].”

“Huh?”

“Nice to meet you, Toji-san,” she once again offers a small smile that reaches her eyes. “I’m [Name]. Thank you for talking to me.”

He clicks his tongue. “It’s nothing—just thought that you could use some company because everyone seems to be fawning over your father.”

She doesn’t reply, simply looking down at her lap like she is taught.

No words are exchanged between the two of them. The silence is not palpable to push them into creating meaningless chatter.

It’s just the two of them—a boy who has nothing to his name except for being part of a family he wants to escape from and a girl who starts feeling the strings dictating her every move.

As the funeral rites go on behind them and as the afternoon makes way for the sun to peek through the cloud formations, the colour spreads from where they are sitting, and in the space between them, Toji notices a small bush of hydrangeas* touching the tips of his wooden slippers.

taglist (send an ask or a reply if you want to be added !! )

@booblikerlhc @sugutoad @sakuralikestars @fandomfloozy @the2ndl @silent-sondering @idktbhloley @ruizrei @m0nsterzl0ve

#— rory's passages 🌼#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x you

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odditycircus-2002 · 7 months

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Medusa! Reader and Shang Tsung in MK 1 (Part 1)

SPOILER ALERT FOR MK 1 STORYMODE

A/N: I hope y'all like this as I've been hyped for this game since I heard its release!!! I was so excited for the possibilities that I watched the full storymode cut as soon as it came out to take notes! Be aware, given this is a new timeline, there ARE gonna be some changes from the other hc/s you've known, but rest assured that doesn't mean I have forgotten. Please enjoy!

You were born around the same northern canton as Shang Tsung, yet you would come to know him in adulthood. You were born as the second eldest to your village's apothecary during your childhood. You never knew your eldest sister, who was taken at infancy to become Umgadi; despite this, your mother always spoke highly of the daughter she never got to know. To the point of being grating to everyone around you, including yourself. On the other hand, your father had high hopes for you to someday take over the apothecary of your village, having seen your innate talent and intrigue for medicine from an early age.

You reveled in the pride your father expressed for you. Although, your mother gave you a different time of day despite your best efforts. Because of your frustrations, you would come across to others as prickly and shrewish. Although deep down, you just wanted a chance to make BOTH your parents proud.

That day came, but not in the way you truly hoped, when a plague struck your village from another nearby canton. Thankfully, it wasn't Tarkat, but that didn't make the one that came any less deadly.

You and your father worked day and night to help treat your village, giving them depleting medicine to ease their symptoms. However, that doesn't mean you didn't have your fair share of corpses you had to help burn to stifle the plague from spreading.

When your father became ill from overworking, you took it upon yourself to search for a cure. It took weeks of secretly digging corpses out of the burn puts and cutting them open (something that wasn't so hard for you to stomach, oddly) to find which combinations of elixirs were the most effective before you found a cure. Even then, it took weeks of trials and tribulations before you finally succeeded. However, to others, you seemed to have cured your village overnight by some miracle, making both your parents proud.

From then on, through the grapevine, it wasn't hard for the newly crowned rulers of Outworld, Sindel and Jerrod, to hear the word of an upcoming healer making a name for herself around the northern cantons by healing most ailments and diseases. Eventually, they would invite you to study at the palace to further your knowledge of medicine.

You were already stunned to hear of Outworld's rulers inviting YOU, of all people, to study at their palace. Imagine your amazement when you first saw the luscious and lively city of Sun Do. Yet the city seemed pale compared to the crown jewel of Sun Do Palace.

When you were escorted into the palace, instead of immediately heading into the throne room as instructed, you slipped away from Li Mei's watch to head toward the legendary Hanging Gardens. While exploring the garden's flora, you took the time to sketch out the plant life you've never seen to look up later while listing off the medical herbs you could gather from there. In fact, you were so caught up in what you were doing you didn't immediately acknowledge Empress Sindel when she entered. When she invited you inside for tea, did you finally look up from what you were doing and realize who you had spoken to the entire time.

You quickly bowed as you started to ramble out apologies for not properly greeting your Empress, stating how you meant no offense or disrespect. Sindel only gave a small chuckle and brushed it off, stating it was a relief to know the healer they invited to study here had so much potential. From there, after getting berated by Li Mei about how there won't be a next time for you to slip from her, you meet Jerrod.

Jerrod and Sindel watched you flourish into a benevolent and dedicated healer, eventually the Head Healer for the Palace, often treating the royal family, Imperial Guard, or Umgadi. While there, you were also trained by Li Mei herself to defend yourself, to prove that every member of the Imperial House is capable of defending Outworld.

You and Sindel grew to have a close friendship. In fact, you treated Sindel the most when she was pregnant with twins and watched as both came into the world. You, too, helped with the upbringing of Mileena and Kitana after Jerrod's death. Sindel found she could confide in you, knowing any secret with you is safe, assured in your loyalty to her and the royal house.

However, that's not to say your friendship with Sindel didn't get into trouble occasionally, specifically in matters concerning Tarkat and those afflicted with it, as your role as a Healer conflicts with Sindel's policies.

You took it upon yourself to become one of the lead researchers into Tarkat, including going to the colony of those afflicted in the Wastes. What you saw appalled you and sickened every part of you that is a Healer.

Yet, as Sindel continues to ignore your suggestions on improving Tarkatan's life, a wedge forms between you. Still, that doesn't stop you from advocating giving Tarkatans better treatment than what they currently have. You and Sindel's skirmish reaches a crescendo when Mileena, infected with Tarkart, one day approaches you.

You tried everything you could to treat her in secret from Sindel, fearing the Empress would banish her own daughter. Yet neither of your efforts would be successful as Sindel and Kitana eventually learned about Mileena's affliction. You and Sindel argued about how Mileena's illness should be dealt with, with you calling Sindel a hypocrite for protecting Mileena when she doesn't do the same for the rest of her sick subjects.

Thanks to the new sorcerer, Shang Tsung, that Mileena found, she was temporarily cured before she could go on a bloody rampage. Immediately, you asked Shang how he figured out how to treat Mileena's symptoms. To which he answered by offering a partnership, stating that together, you both had a real chance to cure the princess and all of Outworld. An invitation you were not going to turn down, much to the Sorcerer's delight.

Thanks to Shang Tsung backing your argument, Sindel had a laboratory built near the Tarkatan camp so you could further your studies for a cure. Although, secretly, it may have also been a way for you to put some distance between you and Sindel since you felt you needed time away from her and the city.

Shang Tsung introduced you to Syzoth, who he claimed would work as an assistant. You were unaware of his enslavement to Shang. Although more at ease in your presence, you couldn't help but notice how twitchy Syzoth can be, especially whenever Shang is in the room.

You recognize Shang's mannerisms, dialect, and choice of clothing to be from the same area you're from. Despite the familiarity you two connected with, you were wary of Shang when he refused to indulge in what he used to be. While he finds your caution understandable, that would not stop him from trying to woo you.

At first, he wasn't quite successful in using honeyed words and shiny trinkets since you were too caught up in your work to care for them. Frustratingly for him, you struck a faster friendship with Syzoth over your interests in each other's cultures. Yet, it didn't escape Shang's notice that Syzoth would cringe at your dark humor and be unable to fully understand the theories you would share with him.

Shang Tsung changed his approach to you after taking note of you and Syzoth's interactions (and punishing Syzoth in private). He got this chance when you let slip a dark joke that some would say is in bad humor. You slap a hand over your mouth when you realize what you said. Yet, to your surprise, the sorcerer you saw as pretentious and full of himself let out a genuine laugh to the point he had to step back from his worktable to reorient himself.

Shang Tsung didn't fake finding you humorous, yet he's not complaining about it, especially when it meant seeing you direct your smile toward him. One small but genuine one he scarcely ever saw directed at him. He found himself wanting more.

Such a small moment led to a friendship that intertwined with your partnership. Shang got you talking about your work and what you hope to accomplish with it, occasionally encouraging you. You would find him sometimes jotting down notes when you share with him theories you developed about Tarkat, including how its mutative properties cause an excessive amount of bone to grow from a person and could probably strengthen a person if used right.

"Yet, I would never actually see if that's true. Not only would it be incredibly painful, but it would be an act against nature.

"Of course, yet shouldn't progress be something healers should strive for?

"Indeed we do, but not at the cost of lives."

Syzoth watched as your relationship with Shang Tsung flourished, thus leading you to share a few apothecary secrets your father taught you. The Zatteran wishes he could've told you about the man you looked fondly at, yet he kept his mouth shut for the sake of his family.

Unbeknownst to you, Shang Tsung would take some of your ideas and theories with Tarkat and then make them into a horrid reality, all right under your nose. For all you knew, the basement level of the lab would eventually be used to treat patients.

Yet, you didn't think Shang Tsung could ever be so depraved. Not from the charming and intelligent man you came to know through long discussions and walks near the lab. However, you started to grow suspicious since you saw Syzoth often head downstairs, but Shang Tsung discouraged you from looking around below. This eventually spiraled into a confrontation between the two of you.

You argued that both of you are partners and thus are equals. Just, what was he hiding down there? However, when you confronted the Sorcercer and gave him a piece of your mind, that's when disaster struck.

You were standing under a shelf when a glass jar containing proto-type Anti-Tarkat serum fell directly on your head. You screamed at the searing pain of glass and the serum entering your eyes.

The chain reaction of the shelf then collapsing and causing more elixirs to fall on your face didn't help with the pain. Your skin started to peel away, leaving your entire body in patches of red rashes, and your hair fell out in clumps. Your screams filled the entire laboratory as you collapsed to the ground. You didn't see the panicked look on Shang's face as he instructed Syzoth (who saw the whole thing) to carry you.

A/N: Sorry, that's all for now, folks. I reached the word count limit.😅 Don't worry, part 2 is coming out real soon!

#mortal kombat #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk11 #oddball writes #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #syzoth #Reptile mk #mk syzoth #mk sindel #mk kitana #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mileena #mk Lei Mei

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astarionbraiinrot · 16 days

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One for the Road

Having acquired himself a brood of many daughters, and with enough years passed since the last was born that he's certain they're done having any more, Astarion is content to be a very happy certified Girl Dad™ to his flock of lovely little feral princesses. Which he's over the moon about, because honestly, what would he even do with a boy? No, he’s quite satisfied with the pack of little gremlins he has, thanks very much, all braids and pink ribbons and lace trim, and he’s not interested in adding to it. He and Tav are living their best No More Babies life. They're consistently sleeping through the night without interruption, they can have a glass (or four) of wine whenever they want, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had to wipe an ass that wasn’t his own. No, their house is FULL and they are DONE. No new Ancunins, shop's closed.

She’s bright red herself, wailing with all the power her little lungs can muster. He still can’t see much of her from where he sits, not with Tav sagged back against him, finally able to rest. The Midwife says something he doesn’t catch as she gently wipes the babe off. He’s too busy whispering to Tav about how well she did to pay much attention to anything else right at this moment, but Tav isn’t, and she starts to giggle, quietly, just this side of audible. Odd, he thinks, but adrenaline’s a hell of a drug, so he doesn’t think about it too hard. His towel-wrapped (and still a little fluid-covered) daughter is gently placed on Tav’s chest as the Midwife busies herself with cutting the umbilical cord and delivering the afterbirth. The baby calms a bit as Tav gently coos to her and strokes her back, her cries tapering off into soft whimpers.

So of course, barely three days after finally clearing out and donating all of their various and sundry baby stuff, Tav informs him that there's going to be a last-minute addition to the family, very soon (school had just started back again, and the girls had spent the entire summer banding together to hide increasingly-inappropriate new "pets" in their rooms no matter how many times they got caught, so he supposes Tav can be forgiven for having mistaken the symptoms of yet another impending-dhampir as typical parenting exhaustion. He certainly had). It's the middle of the night when she tells him, and he spends at least an hour pacing the floor of their bedroom and summoning every scrap of memory from his law school days to argue that she must be mistaken, because their eldest just started COLLEGE and their youngest is TEN and they've already given away the crib and you can't have a baby if you don't have a crib because where would it even sleep? So obviously they can't be having another baby. Checkmate. He rests his case, Your Honor.

When his arguments to the contrary do not, in fact, render the impending child any less impending, and he’s had another hour to stomp around the backyard lecturing himself (quietly, so as not to wake the girls or the neighbors) that this is what happens when you drink two bottles of wine and an entire cow and can’t keep your stupid hands to yourself and convince Tav to throw caution to the wind because “it’ll be fine just this once, what’s the worst that could happen,” you idiot, he comes around to the idea. Because, sure, maybe they're starting all over with the diapers and the teething and the sleepless nights, but their other children are old enough to mostly mind themselves now, and the youngest had started asking for a baby sister as soon as she was old enough to figure out that her parents were where siblings came from.

Plus, if he's honest with himself, he may have - just a very teeny tiny bit - missed the feeling of holding a tiny infant curled up on his chest, burying his nose into their fluffy newborn hair to inhale the scent of their little scalp, listening to those soft snuffly noises they make as they fall asleep, his finger held in a ridiculously tiny hand only just barely big enough to wrap around it. Not enough to have another one on purpose, obviously, but if she's coming along anyway, then he supposes he might as well enjoy it all the same.

So he starts the same preparations for her that he did with all her sisters, sewing tiny frilly things as Tav knits yet another blanket and they bounce potential names off each other. Of course it's a girl, he says, when questioned on his name suggestions. With how many children they already have, there would have been a boy by now if there was going to be one. He scoffs each time Tav jokes over the next few tendays that this one feels different, and they could have a little combo-breaker on the horizon. No, not possible, he assures her, with an unearned confidence that he nonetheless felt was quite deserved. Their Standard Operation Protocol is that, once a baby is on the way, a little girl is born soon after. No deviations, and no reason to expect any now after all this time. Repeated experiments have produced the same result every time. They'll have another member for their infamous flock of Ancunin Daughters before the month is out.

When Tav tells him one evening just before their soon-to-be-second-youngest's bedtime that the little one's announced her debut via a puddle on the kitchen floor, there is no panic, no rush, no mad dash to ready everything. They've been through this far too many times for that. He takes a moment to be grateful that at least this one had waited until the sun was down to kick things off. Most of her sisters had not been nearly so courteous, choosing instead to have their first act be one of defiance against their poor stressed out father by beginning their journey into life in the middle of the day.

He bundles the girls off to the neighbors' house for the night, leaving them with a quick kiss on the head each and a promise that he'll send a Message as soon as their new sister has arrived, before making his way to fetch the Midwife. He vaguely wonders if she's even necessary, considering they have enough offspring that he's got the whole process all but memorized and is fairly certain he and Tav could deliver the child themselves at this point (and had done, once. Baby number five had been VERY eager to make her way into the world, with such a swift entry that she'd nearly been born on the living room floor. He'd had no time to even grab a towel and was forced to catch her with his bare hands. She'd ruined his shirt, and the rug, and nearly scared the unlife out of him on top of it. He'd been very calm throughout the entire event, though, a paragon of unflappable stability, patiently waiting until the babe was born, cleaned, and moved upstairs to the bedroom where she snuggled peacefully in her sleeping mother's arms, before politely stepping out the bedroom door and proceeding to have the quietest panic of his entire existence).

When he arrives back home with the Midwife, he doesn’t bother to direct her to the bedroom. She knows where it is, this isn’t her first rodeo with an Ancunin birth either. Water is boiled, clean towels are at hand, their nice bedding has been replaced with plain serviceable sheets, a layer of newspaper underneath to protect the mattress, a tiny outfit and knitted blanket sit ready nearby. Check, check, check. He completes each step with pure muscle memory and no prompting, all routine, everything exactly as expected.

The next nine hours are spent keeping Tav as comfortable as possible. Rubbing her back, walking circles around the house, stopping at each contraction to gently sway and do the breathing exercises that they'd learned so long ago the first time they did this. Normally, she'd catch what sleep she could in between contractions in these early stages, but this one is determined to allow her mother no rest. He really hopes that's not an indication of what the little one’s sleep schedule will look like once she's here.

They near the end of this whole ordeal with the first light of morning. He's sat behind Tav, holding her up, as she grits her teeth through near back-to-back contractions and shakes with the effort of bringing this last child into the world. She's exhausted, grumpily hissing between pushes that of course his child would be fucking nocturnal and think the asscrack of dawn was a splendid time to be born. He considers reminding her that most of their children had been born during the day, so he really didn’t think the timing of this one could be blamed on him, but any response he might have had is cut off with the next push, when he feels his knuckle bones grind together as she once again resumes her efforts to reduce them to powder. It's probably for the best that he keep that comment to himself right now, anyway, he thinks.

One more big push to get the head out. It's barely visible from his position, head leaning over Tav's shoulder, but he can see that she definitely has the same full head of hair all her sisters did, and maybe his hair color as well, though it's hard to really tell through the blood and fluids plastering it all to her scalp. Could be red for all he knows. He mutters something about not being able to see her hair through the blood, and Tav gives him a sly sideways glance and starts to crack a joke, something about him not having eaten since yesterday, he thinks, before she’s interrupted by a loud, pained, groan and the need to push again.

A few more hard, steady pushes, guided by the Midwife, for the shoulders this time. This is always the hardest part, he remembers, the final hurdle. He whispers gentle encouragement into Tav's ear as, timed with her pushes, the Midwife carefully guides first one shoulder, then the other, out into the world. Poor Tav is bright red from the exertion, covered in sweat and panting. He places a cool hand on her forehead and she leans into his palm as, with a scream and one last push, the babe is finally brought into the world.

Oh.

Able to get a closer look at her now, he can see this one bears more than just a passing resemblance to her father. Frankly, she looks exactly like him, albeit smaller, wrinklier, and with fewer teeth (for now). Pale, even for a newborn, with tiny, finely-pointed ears, and a head of unruly white curls. When she finally opens her eyes, leveling her parents with an annoyed glare that could have come right off his own face (or so he’s been told), he sees his own gaze reflected back at him in pale green, the color they’d learned with the birth of their second daughter that his eyes used to be. He feels a little bad, honestly. Tav did all the hard work, and yet here their daughter is, their last baby, him in miniature. Not bad enough to keep him from preening a bit when he mentions how beautiful she is, though.

Tav is still giggling. Quietly, but noticeably louder now than before his comment.

He raises an eyebrow at her and asks just what is so funny, and her giggling increases to laughter.

You, she says, in between fits of giggles. She asks if he had been paying attention to anything the Midwife had said, and the confused look on his face only serves to make her laugh harder. He waits while she tries to contain herself, releasing a very put upon sigh when, a few minutes later, she’s still laughing at whatever this joke at his expense is.

Finally, she takes a deep breath, holding in her laughter, eyes still sparkling with mirth, and slowly unwraps their daughter. He is, once again, confused, and the baby’s none too happy either, starting to fuss with the sudden loss of warmth. Before he can say anything, Tav shifts and places the now bared and still slightly-slimy infant in his arms, advising him to get acquainted with their newest little one. He wrinkles his nose at the goo rubbing off onto his sleeves, some sarcastic remark ready on his tongue, reaching out with one hand to take the towel from Tav as he looks down to begin settling his daughter, and-

Well.

That explains why Tav was laughing at him, at least.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks that he probably should have caught that a lot sooner. It’s almost embarrassing really, considering his various skillsets, he’s usually pretty good at noticing little details. He doesn’t really have the brainpower to ponder that too long though, because the rest of his mind is still trying to reconcile this shift in information.

The best he’s able to come up with is dazedly asking Tav how that had happened, which just induces her into another fit of tired giggles as she presses a gentle kiss to his lips, and another to the top of their son’s fuzzy head.

He smiles and thinks that the girls will be delighted at this change of protocol.

#astarion x tav #astarion/tav #dadstarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #One for the Road #This is literally my first time ever posting fic pls be gentle lol #and if you see any mistakes no you didn't #this started out as a reply to a request for dadstarion headcanons and now it's over 2k words help #started out with a kiss how did it end up like this etc #Also considered calling it either Going Out of Business or Fire Sale re: the ''shop's closed'' line #2k+

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gojoidyll · 7 months

Text

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x F ! Reader

Part 1 | my broken maid

Warnings | abusive parents, mentions of death, grammatical errors, etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1020 AD

GOJO SHINYA watched carefully. His blue eyes piercing into the back of a young maid dressed in a tattered kimono that she had to stitch up the patches herself, she worked tiredly, quietly, and most of all - she worked obediently. Her name, as he recalled, was y/n l/n. The firstborn of the l/n clan. But depsite being born in such a esteemed family she was hated all because she didn't inherit her family's cursed technique or the ability to see cursed spirits. For this reason, both her mother and father sought to have another child, and that they did. This time a young son of five years old who has already shown signs of having both inherited his father's and mother's techniques.

When he first visited the clan as it was his duty as the next clan head of the Gojo clan and the next lord of the land, his first thought upon hearing the news and seeing the girl was simply a 'how pitiful' and he went on about his day.

However, as luck would have it...he would get to know her, little by little.

He would learn that she was soft hearted and soft spoken. She never got mad, even when her own family was berating her or yelling at her. She never raised her eyes in defiance. She never yelled back. She never even slammed the sliding door.

He would learn that she was a lovely singer with a voice of an angel. Her little lullabies echoing quietly in the garden's of the l/n estate as he would find himself wandering around as talks with the l/n clan have concluded and he was given free reign to explore the place.

He would learn that she loves flowers and even tries to protect them when her own mother would come out and start ripping the small plants from the ground saying how y/n was "undeserving of such things as pretty flowers". Gojo knew he wasn't meant to witness the scene, but his six eyes allowed him to see a lot of things. He even got to see how y/n cried over the deadening flowers and how she would replant them in hopes that they would grow back.

He would learn that she flusters easily. As when she had caught his gaze unexpectedly one hot March afternoon, she had blushed profusely. Her (color) cheeks heating up greatly as her eyes would fixate onto the ground. Her hands gripping the broom a little bit more tightly as she resumed her sweeping. She was so cute, he mused.

So, he would learn and learn and learn many things. She was gentle, caring, soft, and cute too. He found that he wanted to hold her close as the weeks turned into months and months turned into a year as he would find himself visiting the l/n clan many times in hopes of seeing her.

The head of the l/n clan. Sojiro. Would take pride and his ego would visibly swell as THE Gojo Shinya would frequently visit his estate. Gojo honestly hated the man and wished that y/n was the clan head instead. At least then he would have someone pretty to look at instead of an ugly man, and ugly five year old who wouldn't stop smiling, and an even uglier wife who would eye him like a piece of meat.

But Gojo would tell himself that it was worth it. He would get to see y/n (even though it was at a distance) and he would get to make treaties and deals with the esteemed l/n clan. He kills two birds with one stone.

"You will offer this land to us?! Are you certain my lord?!"

Gojo gave a stiff smile and gave a dismissive wave of his hand, "please, I'm no lord yet. So, technically this land here is just a promise for when I come into power. Though, when I do become lord, I hope you will give me something else in return along with your devote loyalty."

Sojiro could only bow to Gojo. His forehead meeting the floorboards, "of course Lord Gojo, whatever you wish from us will be yours!"

Gojo clapped his hands together as a smile adorned his face, "splendid! I'm glad to hear it, but for now...I'll wait to tell you what I want. Once I become lord of the land and take my title as the head of the jujutsu sorcerers, i'll gift you the land and then tell you of my desires from your family. Will that suffice?"

"Of course Lord Gojo!"

Gojo smiled happily as he stood up, "good then! I think I'll take a small walk around the grounds and then take my leave. See you all in the next coming of days."

The family bowed, hell, even the five year old did after his mother urged him a little. But Gojo didn't care. His focus was to see the cute little maid he has been secretly pining after.

Well, that was until he had opened the door and walked right into said girl he was looking for. A crash sounding as a mess of dirty water and rags spilled at their feet. And when their eyes locked. Oh, the fear he saw within her (color) hues. He wanted to hug her tight and tell her it'll be alright, bit refrained from doing so. Instead, he watched as she got on her hands and knees. Head bowed to the floor, lips trembling as she apologized over and over and over again. Her tattered and mis-matched kimono getting dirty and wet from the cleaning water.

"I'm so sorry, Lord Gojo."

Her voice would tremble. Shake and quiever. He didn't need the six eyes to know that her parents and even little brother were glaring daggers at her. Oh, how he wanted to sweep her off feet and whisk her away right then and there. But it wasn't his place. He wasn't exactly a lord yet after all.

Sojiro would quickly apologize as well as he would get his bearings. And as Gojo found himself in a new pair of clothes and ushered out of the estate. He had wished to see y/n one more time. But the head of the l/n clan seemed eager to usher him out most likely because he wanted to "discipline" his oldest daughter for causing such a mess. When in reality it was Gojo's fault just as much.

But he decided to leave it at that. Merely smiling and saying it was alright. Waving a dismissive hand as his usual walk around the grounds was postponed. He reckoned he could see her again (properly) some other time. Hopefully without fear in her eyes.

But alas.

Gojo Shinya would not see her again.

Because apparently she was beaten to death that same night. When he heard the news he had a sort of .. fell into silent fury dwelling within him.

A girl he had fallen for from a distance so easily taken from him depsite him being a sorcerer and having the six eyes.

For the rest of his days after that, he vowed to find her again for it was written in books of old that pure souls with tragic endings got second chances.

So with reincarnation embedding itself into the deepest parts of his mind, he vowed to see her again. For he had a tragic end too. I mean, he didn't end up with her after all, right?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #female reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x reader #yandere #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Note

Hi, I love your work! Your Jake x Reader x Neytiri is a master peace!! I was wondering if I could request a polly Jake x Reader x Neytiri where Neteyam is still a baby and reader is so scared to screw up because she’s not bio mom like Neytiri but is obviously very active in his life as a third parent and Jake and Neytiri reassure her that she’s doing a good job. If you don’t want to write it I totally understand I know it’s kinda of a weird request but if you do write it thank you so much!!! Again I love your writing have a good day/night. 💜

Nothing to Him

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

a/n: sorry this took me forever to get out! this is kinda shit but i hope you all enjoy!!

warning: insecurity, mentions of pregnancy, crying, hurt/comfort, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Neytiri knows what each of Neteyam’s cries mean.

She is the only one who can decipher them, like they’re some unknown puzzle, and only she has the pieces.

And here you are, perfectly capable- in theory- and yet you don’t know. They all sound the same to you. Sure, the volume changes, and sometimes he is simply screaming more than crying, but still- you don’t know what it means.

But Neytiri knows.

Neytiri carried him, Neytiri gave birth to him. He carrie’s Jake’s genes in him, and he carries nothing from you. You are simply there, not even in the body you were born in.

You feel like an imposter. Like you are simply there, simply a placeholder until something better comes along. You are nothing to Neteyam.

—-

“Come, Y/N,” Neytiri says, slinging a bag over her shoulder.

“Where?” you frown, looking up from the fruit you’re cutting.

She rolls her eyes. “The river? To give Neteyam a bath?” She smiles kindly at you, holds her hand out for you to take- but Jake is already at the threshold of your tent, cooing down at Neteyam in his arms.

“N-no,” you say suddenly. “You guys go- I’m kinda tired.”

“Oh. Okay,” you ignore Neytiri’s frown, her lingering. She wants you to change your mind, you realize, to come with them. But you won’t.

They are simply so happy together, so perfect, so meant for each other, you can’t ruin their perfect little bubble. It would be cruel of you, no?

Besides, you don’t know his cries, he prefers Neytiri and Jake over you. He would probably squirm so much in your grip you would drop him.

That is what being a good mother is, you rationalize. Doing what’s best for your child. And you are not best for Neteyam.

—-

“Why did she not come?”

Leaves crunch under their feet, like bones, like hearts. And that’s what Neytiri’s heart is doing- breaking.

Slowly, at least. Not in half, or anything. Just slowly chipping away, piece by piece, moment by moment.

“What do you mean?” Jake shoots her a look, fingers of Neteyam’s tummy, making him squirm. “She said she was tired?”

“Yes…”

He smiles, chuckles a little. “Then she’s tired, my love.”

“This is only the third bath we have given him,” Neytiri argues, the water now in sight. “This is special. She should be here.”

She has to look away when Jake places a hand on her shoulder, understanding in his eyes, softness in his touch.

“There will be more,” he whispers.

She nods, but she doesn’t believe him.

She knows the world turns fast, that there is an end to each day, an eclipse. She knows that time is never promised. And she knows that her Y/N wouldn’t miss this. They had talked so much when she was pregnant, everything they would do, how much Neteyam would be loved.

And then he comes, perfect and sweet, and she pulls away? Neytiri doesn’t believe that she is just tired. Neytiri knows her Y/N, Sees her, loves her. And she knows this isn’t her.

—-

Neytiri’s eyes flick from between the baby in her arms to the boiling pot over the fire.

She could ask Y/N to stir it, but she wants her to know that Neteyam is as much hers as he is Neytiri’s.

“Can you hold him?” she whispers, shifting the sweet boy in her arms, forcing Y/N to put down the beads in her hands.

“Oh-”

But Neytiri will not take no for an answer- Neytiri will see her family together, happy and loving.

“It’s alright,” she whispers, to the both of them maybe, but she sees the stiffness in Y/N, the unsureness. She still holds Neteyam perfectly, holds him like a mother should. And she is a mother, and she does.

But it simply seems like- like she does not want to hold him. Like she is scared of it.

“You saw that,” Neytiri hisses.

Jake meets her eyes, slowly flicking from her to Y/N.

“Yeah, but-”

“No. No, something is wrong.”

He sighs. “I… uh, yeah. Yeah, there is.”

—-

“Something is wrong.”

Their bed has felt like this for a few weeks, cold, like something is taking up the extra space and expanding, pushing them apart.

Your back is pressed against Jake’s side, limp and cold, even though he is so warm.

It is Neytiri who speaks, hand reaching over to your shoulder, while Jake’s arm curls above your head on the bed, preventing you from shifting, from trying to get away.

You paint on a smile, even though they can’t see it. It’s for you, you to force yourself to pretend it’s all fine.

You have this fantasy that maybe you can simply fade away, let them be the perfect family. You are the black sheep, the odd one out. You are nothing to Neteyam- even when you think he is so sweet, so perfect. And that is why you have to pull away- so he can stay sweet and perfect. You’ll only mess him up.

“What do you mean?”

“You.” Her hand squeezes. “You have been… off. What is wrong, my Y/N?”

Your heart squeezes, a million warning signs going off in your mind, alarms blaring. “Nothing,” you hum, pretending to yawn. “I’m tired-”

“Don’t lie,” she pleads, and you still love her, of course you do, so the emotion in her voice makes your heart squeeze again.

“I- I’m not.”

“My Y/N…” she sighs, fingers digging until she’s tugging you onto your other side.

“It’s nothing!” you say and shrug her off, perhaps a little too loud, because Neteyam stirs from his sleeping nest a few paces away. The three of you let out a breath when he stays asleep. “Sorry,” you mutter, feeling horrible and horrible and more like nothing to him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jake whispers, and his hand curls to brush the top of your head. “Tell us what’s wrong, babygirl,”

And you do love them, you love them so much, and hearing them call you theirs, hearing them call you such sweet names, their skin soft on yours. You fell for them and you fell hard, you fell that consuming and reckless way. Like you threw yourself off of something, with only the chance of water below.

But you had fallen and you had fallen good, into their arms, into their lives, and you thanked Eywa and whatever force was out there for it everyday.

But- they were so happy, so perfect together. Everything you had ever dreamed of, the three of them, happy and loving. It was right in front of you and it hurt not to be apart of it.

But you didn’t know what Neteyam’s cries mean. You didn’t carry him. He has nothing from you.

You are nothing to him.

But for this one moment, maybe they do still love you-

“I’m nothing to him,” you say, and you faintly realize you’re crying. “I’m nothing to him.”

“Oh, my Y/N,” Neytiri croons, helping you to rollover.

“Let it out, baby, let it out,” Jake whispers, letting you muffle your cries into his chest. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“I’m nothing to him,” you say again, louder this time, clearer, so they can hear you.

“To who?” Neytiri asks, hand in your hair.

“Neteyam,” you breathe, his name like a promise, like a prayer. A wisp of something you’ll never know. “I’m nothing to Neteyam,”

Neytiri’s hand stops, and Jake stiffens underneath you, and your mind races, and you pull yourself up.

Wiping the tears off your face roughly, “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry. I’ll-”

“No.” Neytiri says, grabbing your hand, tugging it to her lips. “You’re his mother. Why-”

You scoff, disgust in your throat, something hard in your heart.

“No. I did nothing for him- I didn’t carry him, not like you, he carries nothing from me-”

“That shit doesn’t matter,” Jake says, grabbing you by your biceps, shaking you when you can’t look him in the eyes. “Look at me. That doesn’t matter- it doesn’t. You’re ours, our mate, and that is our son. All of us- that’s our son.”

“But-”

“Blood doesn’t matter,” Neytiri whispers. “He will grow up, and he will know you as a mother. That what he will carry with him- your love. And that is what matters, isn’t it?”

You shake your head, and Neytiri sighs, moving away from you while Jake tries to tilt your chin up, until Neytiri’s hand is at your shoulder again.

“Take him,” she whispers, shoving him into your arms while you cry and try to refuse- “It’s okay, it’s okay,”

And you have to screw your eyes shut, pretend it’s not happening, terrified he’ll squirm away or fall out of your arms. Just terrified you’re not good enough.

Suddenly, there’s silence, and Jake’s hands on your face, forcing your chin to your chest, to look down-

“Open your eyes, my Y/N” Neytiri whispers, hands over yours on Neteyam, warm and comforting, lips by your ear.

And you do, because you love them, and Neteyam looks up at you blankly, eyes open, hand reaching out to your face.

“Look,” Neytiri says, soft, so only the three of you can hear. “He’s reaching for you,”

“He’s reaching for you,” Jake agrees, and you nod.

“He’s reaching for me.”

—-

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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balkanradfem · 3 months

Text

I feel that any bad-faith argument about abortion needs to be turned into argument about quality and value of all life on earth. Because we are an intelligent species, and are capable of looking ahead and seeing the consequences of out actions.

For instance, we are living in a world with current ongoing wars, where certain people are given the orders to end thousands of lives, without any consequences or retributions. And yet this is not where pro-life is focusing their intent; apparently once babies grow up it's perfectly fine to gruesomely end those same lives in a genocide, or be starved to death during wars, that kind of thing just 'can't be helped'. But women can be pressured and guilted into birthing more babies, so apparently that's the way to go, sure way to increase the amount of suffering in the world.

But, you'll say, not all born babies will be killed off in wars (weird thing to say honestly), what about children who will live their lives safely and happily on this planet?

Well, tell me how?

Any child being born is going to experience the devastating effect of the climate change, they'll watch whole ecosystems collapse, animals going into extinction, and thousands of humans losing their homes and survival resources. They're being born into a misogynistic world, and if the child is female, she'll experience oppression that she won't even be able to prove is real to the male part of the population.

This child will grow up in the world where empathy is scarce, they'll be bombarded with news about human suffering almost every day, they're likely to come down with mental illness or at least feel that the future is bleak and brings more pain. They're also likely to fall victim to pedophiles, predators, and brainwashed boys who learned to sexually assault other kids due to the exposure of p*rn. Is pro-life trying to protect them from any of it? No. They're fighting to stop teaching them about puberty and what sex is, so once these traumatic things happen to them, they're unable to recognize them or speak about it.

But let's look into even more immediate effects of having a child born against their mother's consent. Once a baby is born, they're alive, but we all know that if they're not tended to, they'll die, experiencing nothing but pain. We always assume women will do this labour unprompted, but how can we assume this?

The forced mother, who is already traumatized from having to go trough forced birth, is likely both unwilling and without proper resources to care for a baby. The baby will feel this, they will know they're unloved. They'll know they're unwanted before they even grow up. As a solution to this, you suggest we blame and shame all mothers for not being good enough, for struggling with post-birth trauma or post-partum depression, for being unwilling to be a parent? You can't control what an unwilling mother does with her baby. You forced her to give birth but you can't do anything beyond that point.

Why did you do it? Why did you make sure a baby exists in a world where there is nobody who wants them, is willing to take care of them or give them a good life? What is it worth to you if there's another unwanted, unloved, suffering child out there? Does it make your life better if there's more human suffering? Do you fight for support of new mothers, for better healthcare, for better resources to take care of abandoned babies, for better institutions to take care of unwanted children? No. You feel entitled to women's unlimited labour and endless caretaking of children they don't want. You don't want to acknowledge it's undertaking of a huge scale, that requires endless resources, finances, complete exhaustion, loss of health, sleep, protection, sometimes education and career. It's nothing to you. Loss of quality of life, for everyone involved, means nothing to you.

As long as there is more human suffering. As long as mother didn't get any say over whether she'll become a mother or not, and how many times, and when. As long as her life was put at risk without her consent. As long as she was punished for something you consider she should be punished for.

And now I'm going to circle back to where I started, the war. Because mothers have to watch their children both go to war, risk their lives in war, and be killed in wars. After putting that endless amount of energy and resources to grow and raise a single child, they'll have to watch them go to slaughter. And what happens if a child dies, as a solider in a war? Mother gets payment for it. That's right. For having that child murdered by someone else, the mother will get paid. Murder of that child is not only okay, legal, approved by government and somehow necessary, but is also rewardable to the mother, who, had she refused to birth that same child, causing zero suffering to ensue, would have been punished. Nobody except the mother can get punished.

If the child was killed in a war, and not a soldier, nothing. Apparently loss of life with extreme amount of human suffering, is worth absolutely nothing. But refusing to put that life out there, is a punishable crime. Because it only matters if it's unborn or a newborn. Once that same baby grows up, it's slaughter time. Humans apparently lose value after they grow up, they're only worth as 'endless human potential' in unwilling hands, but after they've reached the age of 'not a baby anymore', worthless.

We have observed the world for long enough to see the consequences of the actions we make. Women are the only ones who can and should decide whether they are willing and able to bring another life into the world, that is worth living, that will provide a life which is livable, enjoyable, worth being alive for. Life is extremely precious and bringing it into the world where it will be subjected to neglect, torture, and possibly a painful death, is unacceptable.

Caring for mother's rights is the first thing that will improve any child's quality of life. Caring about the environment is the second. Ending wars and debilitating male's ability to even start a war, is a fight for life. Not fighting for them to take control of female bodies, which they'll use to make themselves endless supply of soldiers, endless war resources. Taking control from women always means putting it in hands of m*n, who don't find any problem with human suffering, who celebrate wars, find themselves at home doing massive murdering, torturing and raping of women and children.

Women in charge of life means making life compatible with joy, love, care and warmth. We are the only ones who give children have safety, community, care and protection only a willing mother can give. You're wrangling it away from us further away from control the women are. We are fighting for a world where every mother is willing, and every child wanted. Why aren't you?

#pro-abortion #anti natalism #anti natalist #radical feminism #anti war #anti male #anti patriarchy

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tomhollandisabae · 2 years

Text

glimpse of us - lewis hamilton x reader

masterlist

fandom; formula one

summary; after your reconnection with your ex lover many things are being revealed and many other things are being said

warnings; angst like... a lot of it, mature language, brief mention of blood, pregnancy, smut (unprotected sex, fingering, foul language, daddy kink, p in v) [18+ MINORS D.N.I.]

words; 4.8k

a/n; so the song only love can hurt like this started playing while i had already begun writing this so... yeah... things are getting really heated :)

'Lewis Hamilton spotted with supermodel Bella Hadid acting cosy. '

It was the third headline you had seen that day about him and his new girl. You and Lewis had been dating for almost three years, but broke up right after his 37th birthday, due to the fact that as he claimed ‘the pressure from his working environment and you were too much’.

He had broken your heart, yet you tried to move on and find happiness somewhere else, but how could that happen since you were seeing him literally everywhere and the fact that he was pictured with other women was making the situation for you even worse.

It had been almost 10 months since January the 7th, yet here you were on your bathroom floor bawling your eyes out about your ex-lover. You had thought many times about texting him or calling him, but you knew better than that. If he was willing to throw away your entire relationship for his career, then you had no reason to speak to him again.

He was now back to his old self, fooling around with supermodels and had no intention of seeing you again. Your trail of thoughts was broken by the hearing of a baby’s cry. You immediately stand up from the ground and wiped your eyes as you made your way back in your bedroom. Then, you approached the precious human being in the little crib and picked her up in your arms trying to calm her down.

Looking down at your beautiful little new-born daughter in your arms, you couldn’t believe that you really were holding her after what you went through. To clear things out, one month ago you went into gave birth, alone as a matter of fact that you had no one to support you – not even your very religious parents that went feral in the hearing of you being pregnant out of marriage- and the result of it was a 6-hour long labour and the most painful thing you had ever experienced that almost costed you your life due to the extreme blood loss that you suffered.

Of course, you never said anything to Lewis as a result that every time you tried to contact him in the first two months, he would shut you down or pick up the phone and without letting you speak telling you that he couldn’t waste his time trying to sort things out in his personal life since he had to focus on the new car launch.

So, after many tries you decided that it was better that way and because you were too pissed at him, you ended up not telling him at all. And here you were now holding your tiny daughter in your arms as she had finally stopped crying and had rested her small head on your breasts. You loved her more than anything in the world and you would do anything in your power to protect her and raise her with kindness and fairness, not like your parents raised you.

Anastasia Cinthya Hamilton would be raised in a healthy environment, away from all the drama and sadness.

Yes, you had given her her father’s last name as you still were feeling guilty about keeping her away from him. She was part of him too, so you thought it would be fair enough to do that. Deep down you knew that Lewis loved children and that he would be the greatest father, yet the fact that he treated you like that made you cut off any contact you had with him.

As you finally put Ana back in her crib, you heard your phone ringing.

“Yes?” you asked curious as no one ever called you.

“Hey y/n, I'm calling to ask about little cute baby Ana and you, how have you been?” you heard y/f/n saying from the other side of the phone.

Y/f/n was one of the nurses that were looking after you while you were at the hospital and in those couple of days you managed to form a great friendship.

“Oh hi, yeah we’re great, what about you?” you asked.

“I'm fine too. So I was thinking that if I was to find you a well trusted baby sister, would you come with me at a party?” she suggested.

Truth was that it had been ages since the last time you had been at a party, but your daughter wasn’t even a month old so you couldn’t leave her just like that.

“I really appreciate that y/f/n, but I can’t leave Ana yet. I'm sorry.” you apologised.

“it’s okay, I understand. We have plenty of time ahead of us.” she replied.

“Yeah sure, look I gotta go, but please feel free to ring me if you need anything.” you said.

“Will do, take care.” she answered and with that you hung up the phone.

Now it had been five hours after your friend had called you and suddenly you heard your door bell ringing. Terrified was a poor word to even describe how you were feeling at that moment, so after you made sure that your daughter was safe, you made you way to open the door.

“Who is it?” you asked loudly behind the door.

“Hey y/n” you heard your heavily drunk friend saying from the other side.

“y/f/n?” you finally opened the door, but what you saw made your blood run cold in your veins. “What... what happened?” you asked with wide eyes while you were already feeling on the verge of crying.

Without waiting any longer, you proceeded to help her inside as you led her towards the sofa where sooner or later, she passed out.

“y/n...” you heard him saying your name from behind you.

“What the hell is going on?” you looked sternly at him as you turned around.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t know you were leaving here. She was pretty drunk and I offered to take her at her house, but she told me to bring her here.” he tried to explain.

“Yeah, clearly you wanted to take her at her house...” you exclaimed in a whisper, but he heard you.

“What do you mean?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Okay Lewis, you brought her here, she’ll be fine. Now you can get out of my house.” you rolled your eyes and pointed at your front door.

“y/n please, can we talk?” he pleaded.

“Talk? Talk about what Lewis? You made it pretty clear all those months ago that you didn’t want to talk to me anymore? So, for the last time, please, get out of my house.”

Before he could respond a baby’s cry was heard throughout the house that made you freeze at your feet, while Lewis looked at you in question.

“what’s that?” he asked curious.

“it’s none of your business, now get out!” you instructed but he didn’t listen.

“y/n a baby’s is crying upstairs.” he said.

“Yeah, I'm babysitting a friend's baby, so what?” you lied as you hurriedly made your way in your bedroom, hoping that he would leave, yet you were wrong as a matter of fact that he followed you.

When you entered your room, Anastasia was crying in her crib so you rushed to her side and immediately picked her up. You walked to your bed and sat on the edge as you lowered your shirt to feed her as it was time for that. After she placed her small lips around your nipple and started feeding, you lifted your head and realised that Lewis had seen everything as he was standing right in front of you, mouth opened wide.

“Lewis...” you tried to say something, but failed.

“What... I... how? I don’t understand...” he was out of words.

“Just let me finish feeding her and I'll explain everything, okay?” you sighed and he nodded, yet didn’t make the effort to exit your room.

“Will you please go downstairs. You're stressing me out and she can feel it too, please.” you told him.

“Yeah, okay...sorry” and with that he left.

After a while, you made your way downstairs too where you found Lewis sat on one of the chairs in your kitchen with his head in his hands.

“Lewis...” you called out his name lowly and he lifted his head to face you.

“Did I really meant that little to you?” he asked with a sad expression.

“What?” you exclaimed shocked and he stood up.

“For the past 10 months I've been trying to get over you, I've been literally sleeping around with every woman I find so I can forget about you, but always fail, yet here you are having already moved on with someone else and not only that, but you also have that bastard's baby too.” he yelled at you and you couldn’t help, but just stare at him as if he had grown another head.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you threw your hands in the air.

“You know what I'm talking about y/n... did you even really loved me?” this was the final straw as you lifted your hand and slapped him across his face.

“don’t ever fucking say that again” you pointed your finger at him “you were the one that broke up with me because apparently your career was far more important than I was. I tried to contact you for months, but you always found a way to shut me down. I called you, texted you, went to your house, your parents' house, your friends’ and they all looked at me like I was someone to pity over and back then... maybe I was, because I was desperate, I didn’t know what to do and all of them were telling me that as much as they appreciated me you needed your space. I had no one Lewis, no one! My parents kicked me out of their house as soon as they found out I was pregnant and not only that, but I also lost my job too and thank God I had my own savings because me and my daughter had no one to rely on and as a pregnant woman no one hired me anymore. So don’t you dare ask me if I ever really loved you, when I obviously did. I was alone, pregnant, with no one to comfort me and tell me that everything will be alright, yet I still fucking loved you.” by the time you stopped talking you were already crying while Lewis was just looking at you, trying to find the right words to speak.

“Say something...” you said in a whisper.

“I... I don’t understand... how... it doesn’t make sense.” he simply said.

“What doesn't make sense Lewis, what exactly? Tell me!” you exhaled.

“she’s so... small... when...” he looked at you desperate.

“After everything I told you, you still really think that she is some else’s baby?” you exclaimed crying as his words had really hurt you.

“she’s...” his eyes welled up with tears.

“she’s yours Lewis... she’s your daughter.” you finally told him and you saw a tear rolling down on his cheek.

You wanted to hug him, not bearing the image of him crying, but after what he had done to you, you couldn’t bring yourself to comfort him anymore. The wound was deeper than you thought it was and it was hurting like hell.

“Mine...” he whispered as he sat down on the chair “you tried to tell me...” he looked up at you searching for an answer and as you nodded, he continued “and I avoided you every single time...” he let out a sob as he buried his face in the palms of his hands.

“I have a daughter” he sniffled “I have everything I've ever wanted in this world and more. I have the most beautiful daughter in the world with the woman of my dreams and I was such a fool to let all go” he sobbed even harder this time.

You couldn’t help it anymore and kneeled down in front of him as you placed your hands on his knees in a way to calm him down.

“Lewis... please don’t cry. I understand if you don’t want this, but I had to tell you, I already was feeling so guilty for not doing so all those months bu--” he cut you off.

“y/n are you crazy?” he looked at you “this is all I've ever wanted and you think I'm going to throw it away. I should be apologizing; I should be on my knees for all I caused to you. I made you go through the toughest stage of your life in such way, you went through so much, all by yourself, while I was all over the place getting drunk and being photographed with every single woman that was crossing my path... I'm so fucking disgusted with myself.”

“you’re right” you finally responded and he looked at you with a hurt expression “but I'm willing to forgive and forget for Ana’s shake. I want her to grow up with both her parents by her side. I put aside my ego and everything for her, she deserves to have both of us in her life. She's half me and you after all.” you explained.

“I want y--” you cut him off.

“No! I will only accept you in my life as the father of my daughter and nothing else. You threw away your chance about us being a normal family the day you broke my heart”

“What if I try and become better?” he asked in despair.

“No Lewis, I can’t go through this again. I'm not trying to risk my sanity anymore. Have you ever imagined what I felt when I was seeing you being photographed going out with all those supermodels that had managed to have what I had for three years, and trust when I'm telling you that they were the best years of my entire life. My heart breaks even more when I'm reading articles about you being with someone else and I've been trying so hard to get over you and by the eighth month of my pregnancy I had partly succeed that, but then when Ana was born and I looked at her in my arms, I realised that she has your eyes and I couldn’t be more happy about it, because after all I still have a piece of you that no one can ever take away from me” you finally stood up and he followed you too.

“I'm sorry... I always was thinking about you and that was the issue. I thought that if I was with some other woman, I would apparently get over you and forget about you, but every single time I was looking at the other person in front of me a glimpse of us was making its way in my mind and the past was hurting me so much. Later I realised that I was trying to found you in them, but I never succeeded, because no one will ever replace you in my heart.” he confessed making go speechless for a while.

“Yeah... umm" you wiped your tears “it’s okay. Now we... we have to work out our relationship... as parents and only as that... for Ana’s shake.” you bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah of course... I can do that and I promise you y/n that I will show you how sorry I am for treating you like that.” he took a deep breath.

“it’s okay Lewis. I'm sure that if you knew, things would be different.” you shrugged.

“Yes, they would be, but I was too foolish to not listen to you y/n, you were so desperate to get in touch with me and I--” you interrupted him.

“Ana is my top priority right now Lewis, I'm willing to forget everything for her sake.” you said quietly.

“Okay...”

“Do you still leave...?” you tried to ask.

“At our old house?” he said and you nodded “no, I couldn’t stay there anymore. Your perfume was all over the place and I couldn’t let go of you like that.” he replied.

“Makes sense... I came by and no one ever answered.” you shook your head “you can stay over tonight at the guest bedroom so you can see Ana tomorrow because I put her to sleep now.” you suggested.

“I don’t want to be a burde--”

“You will never be a burned Lewis... please stay.” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Okay...” he said in a whisper.

After you helped him settle down in the guest bedroom and you took care of your friend that was sleeping on your couch, you finally laid down on your bed and tried to sleep.

However, two hours had went by and still you were far from asleep. You couldn’t believe that Lewis, the man that you loved for all these years was sleeping in your house. You couldn’t believe that after almost ten months he was at your house a few feet away from you.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a door opening and closing as you heard someone walking downstairs. You knew it was him and as a matter of fact that you couldn't sleep you decided to follow him.

“hi” you said quietly as you made your way to the kitchen where you found him drinking water.

“hey” he said as he turned to look at you while he placed the glass down “can’t sleep either?” he asked.

“Something like that...” you said and he nodded.

You just stood in front of him, only then realising that you had no reason to follow him downstairs. Lewis was looking at you very carefully trying to understand what you really wanted.

“I should go back to bed--” as you were about to leave, he grabbed your wrist softly and turned you back around.

“y/n... please don’t go.” he got closer to you and placed both his hands on either side of your face.

“Lewis please...” you tried to get out of his grip, not putting too much effort though, as you had really missed his touch.

“I know that I let you down y/n, but please let me make it up to you, let me be there for you from now on. Please, let me make up for the time I was away, let me make up for what I did to you, because I promise you y/n, I will be there for you and Ana for the rest of my life. You are the most important people in the world for me and I know that because the season is not over yet, I will not be able to be with you as much as I really want, so please those days in between race weekends let us be a family, let us at least try to become a real family. Please...” he lowered his head making your foreheads touch.

“Lewis I told you... you can be in Ana’s life as much as you want, we can even move in together for the first months, but nothing else can happen. It's over between us Lewis.” you tried to explain.

“Please, I can’t go on like that; knowing now what I have and what I could have...” he begged.

“Lewis...” you breathed out against his lips.

“Please...” his lips slightly touching yours.

You tried to speak, but without even realising it, his lips were attached to yours in a mtter pf seconds. You found yourself lost in the kiss as you had missed the feeling of him against you. His calloused hands gripping gently your face, his firm chest pressing against yours and his heart beating only for you. You felt complete, you felt whole again.

His hands made their way to your waist pulling you even closer as your own were wrapped around his neck. He bit your lower lip asking for entrance, which you foolish granted knowing now that there was no turning back. You were about to be his for one more time. You were about to submit to him again and become one with him.

In matter of seconds both your clothes were thrown to the floor and Lewis’ lips were attached to your swollen nipple, thing which made your eyes roll in the back of your head as you were far too sensitive.

“Please Lewis...” you moaned.

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” he asked as he started kissing up your chest to your neck.

“I want you...” you cried out.

“You can do better than that.” he said as he continued on sucking on your sweet spot.

“Fuck... please Lewis, I want your cock inside of me, I want to remember what it felt like. I've missed you...”

“you’ve missed me?” he suddenly lifted his head from your neck and looked you in the eye.

“Yes, I did.” you whispered and he kissed you once again, before placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks making you jump and wrap your legs around him middle as he made his way towards the bedroom he was staying at.

Once you reached your destination, he placed you on the bed and got on top of you. He supported himself on his left hand as his right one made its way towards your sex and started circling your clit with his fingers.

“Fuck Lewis...” you arched your back as he placed for one more time his lips on yours.

You squirmed under him, resulting in him entering two fingers inside of you making you gasp.

“Go easy, I'm still sore...” you interrupted him.

“Okay baby, I got you, don’t worry” he reassured you and pecked your lips as he started moving his fingers in and out of you.

After a little while, he had found a steady but fast pace and without hurting you, he was making you see stars as he was trying himself to remember what your tight walls were feeling like.

“Come on y/n, cum for me... I need to be inside of you.” he cried out and you felt the tip of his fingers hitting against that sweet spot inside of you which made you grab on the sheets even tighter as you finally came on his fingers.

He kept on pumping his fingers inside of you as you were riding your high, but sooner or later you felt too sensitive so you grabbed his wrist and tried to stop him.

“I can’t...” you breathed out.

“it’s okay baby, it’s okay.” he kissed your cheek softly as he pulled his hand out of you and proceeded to lick his fingers.

“Fuck...” he moaned “you still taste as good as before” he said as he buried his head against your neck.

“Please Lewis... I need you” you cried out as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked.

“fuck” you threw your head back in frustration “you can pull out” you suggested in despair.

“Are you sure about this? I mean we all know that the pull-out game doesn’t always work and you just gave birth” he said.

“Lewis I don’t fucking care just put your fucking cock inside of me and shut the fuck up” you looked at him with anger as you really wanted to feel him once again.

“Okay...okay” he nodded and grabbed his dick in his hand making you arch your back as he run his tip over your lips teasing you, before finally pushing inside of you slowly.

“fuck” you chocked in a moan as you felt him entering you.

“Shit y/n” his mouth opened wide as he pushed even more inside you and when he bottomed out, he let out a loud moan as he started nibbling at your neck waiting for you to adjust.

“Please Lew, move” his heart was about to burst from happiness as he heard you calling him by his nickname.

However, as much as he wanted to tease you more, he knew better than to push your limits, so he started moving slowly in you.

“Shit y/n, how the fuck are still so tight?” he moaned.

“Fuck Lew... faster” he didn’t need to hear anything else as he picked up his pace.

He placed one of his hands on your hip for leverage as he pumped himself in and out of you even harder.

“I can’t believe how tight you are baby... fuck you’ll be the death of me”

“mhhmm fuck yess” you yelled out loud as you felt his tip against your g spot.

You were sure that your screams could be heard from outside as Lewis kept on assaulting that special spot inside you, before placing his thump on your clit and starting drawing figure eights against you.

“Oh shit... fuck Lew... you feel so fucking good” you said as you buried your nails deep into his back dragging them downwards.

“Shit baby” he gasped as you clenched around him “I'm not gonna last” he mumbled in your ear.

“Fuck, me too... I'm cumming” you placed on of your hands on his ass pushing him down on you as you felt a knot forming in your lower stomach.

“Cum for me y/n... cum for me baby, milk my fucking cock” he instructed.

“Fuck daddyy I'm coming...” you screamed and came as you made him lost it too and quickly pulled out of you spilling his seed on your stomach.

“Fuck y/n...” he tried to catch his breath “did you really have to say the last part?” he said and you giggled.

Lewis couldn’t feel happier. He had actually heard you giggling and not only that, but he was also the reason for your happiness.

"are you okay?" he asked after a while.

“mhhm... probably won’t be able to get up from bed tomorrow, but yes, I'm fine” you smiled at him.

“Then I did my job right” he smirked and pecked your lips.

“Are you forgetting that we have a baby now?” you hit his shoulder playfully.

“Nope, but that’s why I'm here for. I'll take care of both of you.” he smiled sweetly at you and finally got up, making his way to the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving you alone surrounded by many thoughts.

You had no idea what to do now. You had just had sex with him, breaking the only thing that you promised yourself never to do, not even that long after you saw him again. What did that mean for your relationship now? You really wanted him back, but you also couldn’t forget that easily what he had done to you. However, you had said that you were willing to do so for your daughter.

Was the connection you had with Lewis that strong, so not even a day after you reconnected with him, you were willing to take him back with open arms? Well, you had already opened your legs for him...

Maybe. You really loved him still and you knew that back then he was really stressed, your relationship was very complicated and you knew that you wouldn’t last. Probably this was what you needed, a little time away from each other for your relationship to be as strong as it was before everything went downhill.

“What are you thinking about?” you heard him asking as he was cleaning you up, without you even noticing.

“Nothing serious. Can you please grab our clothes from downstairs?” you asked him.

“of course” he replied and after he pecked your lips he went to do so.

A few moments later he came back and gave you your clothes. You watched him as he started getting dressed.

“Lew...” you said when he had only put on his boxers and his head snapped towards your direction, not expecting you to call like that again.

“yes” he replied, but you didn’t say anything.

You only lifted your head singling for him to pick you up. Confused he did so and you placed you head in his neck.

“Take me to the bedroom.” you said “and take your shirt with you too.”

“Okay...” he answered still in confusion.

Once you reached your bedroom, he placed you on the bed and you rolled on your side to grab a new pair of panties from the bed side drawer before putting them on.

“Gimme your shirt” you told him and he did so.

As you were putting his shirt on, he couldn’t help but look over to the crib on the other side of the room.

“don’t wake her up, please. It will be a hell to make her go back to sleep again.” you whispered.

“I won’t don’t worry.” he reassured you and you smiled as you patted the space besides you.

When he laid there, you cuddled up against him as you both wrapped your arms around each other.

“I promise you can officially meet her tomorrow.” you kissed his shoulder.

“mmh... good night y/n” he pecked your forehead.

“Goodnight lew”

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #lewis hamilton x you #driver x reader #lewis hamilton one shot

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

We're A Family Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Enjoy the fluff <3

Warnings: Smut, fluff, and a slight bit of angst. Steddie dynamic and all that that implies (I regret nothing!), Mentions of Steve and reader having trouble with their parents. More than anything just Steddie being cute dads <3.

Word Count: 3758

Wayne grins as he as holds Aurora under her arms up to his face and makes funny sounds with his mouth as she giggles. You smile as you watch them from your place at the sink, scrubbing away at the never-ending supply of baby bottles.

It had been 6 months since she was born and thankfully your maternity leave flowed into summer vacation for the school so you were able to be home with her. Once summer started Dylan wanted to help out more offering to keep her entertained while you did things around the house. He really was the best big brother when it came to her.

He would talk to her 24/7 about books and video games especially when he was playing one. Any wisdom Eddie and Steve had given him, he told her as if he had come up with the information all by himself.

The guys, of course, were a big help as well when it came to Aurora even going overboard at times. Since you spent all day with her and Dylan, they insisted on getting up with her in the middle of the night when she cried. After the kids were in bed, they made sure you were taken care of whether it be making or bringing home dinner, cleaning the house, or even something as small as rubbing your back.

Watching them with the baby was always a unique experience. Eddie and Steve were adorable dads and to anyone on the outside looking in, there would be no doubt that they loved her with all their heart. What was fun for you was seeing their different personalities leak through.

For example, one night Steve woke up to comfort Aurora and after sneaking down the hall to check on them, you found him feeding her a bottle while swaying his body as sang the song from Sleeping Beauty. That morning after Steve had left for work, you came downstairs to see Eddie holding her against his shoulder, patting her back while singing “Photograph” by Def Leppard.

“You look exactly like your dad when he was a baby.”, Wayne smiled as he brought Aurora down to his side. “I’ll have to bring some of his baby pictures, Y/N. I swear, she could be his clone.”

“She definitely has Eddie’s energy.” You reach out to poke her nose and she giggles, kicking her feet.

“How have you been?”

“Oof. I’ve been alright. I don’t know what I would do without the guys. I forgot what it was like having a baby in the house.” Wayne nods to himself as you sigh. “That’s not what you meant, is it?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s not.”

After drying your hands, you come around to his side of the counter and take a seat at one of the stools.

“Kierra told my mom I had the baby and…my mother hung up on her. I haven’t seen her since she came by to yell at us. Steve’s parents haven’t been by either and… his dad finally followed through with cutting him off.” You laugh as a tear escapes down your cheek. “Couldn’t even face him, choosing to mail him the information. Yeah… so congratulations! You’re Aurora’s only grandparent.”

Wayne leans forward, wrapping his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you quickly pull back to dry your eyes. Just from the smell alone, you already know who it is before he becomes visible.

“Hey Eddie!”

“Jesus, woman. Are you psychic? Hey, baby.” Eddie gives you a quick peck, hesitating as he pulls away when he looks into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

Aurora saves you from having to answer as she babbles baby talk in his direction. “Oh, really? Well, I don’t know if you want me to hold you yet. I smell like a car engine.”

He chuckles as she leans towards him and he takes her from his uncle. “Alright, yall. I’m going to head home. Bye, Ro.” Wayne tickles her neck and she keens into her father’s shoulder as she giggles.

As soon as he leaves, the door flies open again as your son runs through it holding grocery bags in his hands; Steve following a few moments after.

“Why does it smell like a gas station?”

“Okay, Okay. I get it.” Eddie passes you Aurora before heading up the stairs to take a shower.

“Hey, babe.” Steve kiss your forehead before tickling the baby’s side. “And baby. Did you have fun with grandpa today?” She smiles at him and tiny arms wrap around his neck. “I got some of those baby snacks you mentioned since we’re supposed to be trying solid food. I also got…” His eyes scanned the kitchen before Dylan beamed up at you, handing you’re a small bouquet of roses.

“Aw, you guys didn’t have to do that.”

“I know we didn’t have to. We wanted to.”

###############

After dinner that night, Eddie sat on the floor with Aurora playing his guitar while Steve laid beside her. Dylan sat on the couch with you watching TV while you went through the mail.

“Steve…” He answered you with a light hm. “This is addressed from Hawkins Community College.” All heads in the room turned towards you as you dropped to the floor and handed it to him.

He sat up and rapidly tore open the envelope as his eyes scanned the paper.

“Well? Don’t leave us in suspense, Harrington.”

“Little man, come here and help me read this.” He handed the note to Dylan who promptly began reciting the letter.

“Dear Steven Harrington. We are so excited that you have chosen to apply at our school and are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the teaching program…”

You squealed with delight as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you both fell flat on the floor. Eddie cheered as he clapped his hands, Aurora watching him with wide eyes as she kicked her feet.

“I’m so happy for you! This is fantastic.”

“When do you start?”, the metalhead asked.

“In September. I have to make a payment first though.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that right now. This is a good thing. Let’s be excited.” You lean down to kiss the baby’s cheek. “Did you hear that? Daddy’s going to school.”

###########

“Hey, Mrs. Harrington.” Steve’s mom gave you a once over with her eyes, completely taken back by your sudden arrival at her house. “May I come in?”

She nods and you step inside as she opens the door wider.

“Is my son with you?”

“No, ma’am. He actually doesn’t know I’m here. I wanted to talk to you. One of you… I did try and call Mr. Harrington’s phone but he never answers.”

You take a seat on her couch as you fidget with your hands, waiting for her to sit as well so you can begin.

“I know what you’re thinking and I swear I’m not here for me. I meant what I said when I told your husband that I love Steve with or without his money. He’s always been good to me and my son. He’s also an amazing dad with Aurora, our daughter.” Pulling out your phone, you show her a picture of Steve fast asleep with the baby on his chest. A small smile flickers across her lips at the image.

“The reason I’m here is…he got accepted into college and will be in the teaching program. We’re so proud of him. Steve starts this fall but only if…he can make the payment. He has put a lot of money aside; we all have for him but…he’s a few hundred short.”

Your eyes meet hers. “Please. He’s worked so hard for this and deserves it. I can pay you back as soon as I can or do whatever you want me to.”

Mrs. Harrington softly smiles as she rises from the couch to find her purse.

“Tell my son…that I’m so proud of him and I love him.”

###########

“Y/N!”

You cringe as Steve shouts your name as soon as he enters the front door.

“Hey, whoa. Calm down, Harrington. Aurora’s asleep. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Eddie. That’s what I’m trying to find out!”

“Baby, can you keep an eye on Ro for me?”, you ask. As soon as Dylan gives you the okay, you leave your bedroom and head down the stairs.

“What did you do?!”, Steve snaps. “My dad texts me while I’m at fucking work commanding you stop calling him and then, suddenly, I have 20 grand in my bank account.”

“I didn’t ask for that much. Your mom insisted after I told her you got into school.”

“You did what?”, Eddie asks now seemingly just as confused.

“We…we didn’t save enough for you to make that first tuition payment.”, you shrugged. “Steve, you deserve this. I swear I only asked her for the small amount you needed. She did the rest saying she was proud of you and that she loved you.”

“Y/N, do you understand how much farther we can get with this money when it comes to our family?! I’d rather use this money for Aurora and Dylan than me.”

“So you can continue making pennies at a job you’re not happy at?! Steve, in the long run you going to school and getting your degree benefits everyone especially our family.”

He takes a step closer to you, pointing his finger in your face. “You had no right to do this with talking to me first.”

“I knew you would say no.”

“You’re fucking right I would have! I can handle this situation without their help, Y/N and the fact that you think I can’t is extremely belittling.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Okay! Okay.” Eddie steps between you two, holding up his palms. “Stop yelling because, again, our daughter is taking a nap. Now, Y/N, he’s right. You should have talked to him about this first before you did anything. Steve, we know her. She did this with good intentions. Y/N was just trying to help.”

The baby monitor cuts through the tension as Aurora begins to cry.

“Mom?!”

“Yeah! I hear her!”

Steve pushes past you both and huffs as he stomps up the stairs.

#############

“Steve? Can I sit with you?”, Dylan asks as he pokes his head into the baby’s room. As soon as the man nods, your son comes in and lays on the floor beside him and Aurora who was now happily reaching at the hanging toys dangling above her head.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, dude. I’m just…thinking.”

“About my mom?”

“No…mine.”, Steve sighs. “She, uh, just gave me a lot of money so I can go to school.”

“That’s cool! My mom told me once she had money set up for me for when I go. Did yours do the same thing?”

“Not exactly, little man.”, he chuckled. “My dad always wanted me to be a businessman like him. Wear a suit and all that.” Steve mimes tightening a tie that makes Dylan laugh. “When I couldn’t get into college after high school…he took all that money and, um, invested it in other places.”

“Invested?”

“He…put the money towards other things that would benefit him.”

“Huh. That sounds selfish.” The man meets your son’s eyes as he continues. “Well, I’m proud of you, Steve! I’m invested in you.”

Steve smiles as Aurora coos as if to agree with her brother. “Can I ask you something, kid? That money my mom gave me…could really help you and your sister. I can set it aside for you two to go to school or we can use it for things like clothes or toys…”

“Do we have trouble getting that stuff now?”

“No.”

“So…you would be investing it in something that might happen instead of something that you know is happening…like you becoming a teacher.”

Steve laughed as he reached out to lightly push the boy’s shoulder. “When did you get so smart?”

##############

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? I can stay up with her.”, Eddie chided when he found you on the couch with Aurora at 3 am. You grinned at his sleepy frame as he came to sit beside you, yawning as he rubbed his hand over his bare tummy.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You scooted closer to him as he lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder before running his hand comfortingly over the baby’s head.

“My girls can’t sleep? Oh no.”, he whispers in soft voice that makes her smile as her little eye lids start to droop.

“Eddie, I didn’t know what else to do. Steve deserves this. He’s done so much and worked so hard…it infuriates me that his father doesn’t recognize that.”

“I know, baby. Your heart was in the right place but when it comes to things like this…that’s between him and them.”

“Why are you people awake?”, Steve sighs sleepily as he comes into the living room.

“Princess woke up and since mommy couldn’t sleep, she’s been keeping her company.”

“Well, she seems to be asleep now. I can take her—”

“Naw, man. I got her. You two need to talk anyway.” Eddie carefully slides Aurora out of your grasp and heads up the stairs to put her back in her crib.

Steve promptly takes over his place, putting his arm around you as well.

“I’m sorry. I really was just trying to help.”

A heavy sigh leaves his chest before he abruptly grips your waist and puts you on his lap facing him.

“I know, honey. I wish you would have talked to me first and we could have come up with a game plan or something.”

“Are you going to send it back to her? I swear I only asked her for the small amount that we couldn’t come up with and even offered to pay her back.”

“Hm. I spoke with your son today. He seems to agree with you, that in the long run me finishing school will help us all. He’s a smart kid, ya know?”

“Yeah. Where did the time go? 8 years ago, he was a baby like Ro and now…”

Steve nodded as he cupped your face in his palms and brought your lips to his.

“Oh, good. We’re all happy again.” Eddie bounces down the stairs with a smile.

“Hey, baby. Can you hand me that light blue envelope on the counter?” He does as you ask before plopping his body down next you both. “I got this today but with everything going on I thought I should wait to show you guys. Read it, Ed.”

The metalhead carefully pulls the papers out of their confinement and silently reads the contents to himself.

“What is it, Munson?”

“Um…fucking hell…just seeing it in print…like this…”, his voice cracks as he tries to continue. “Sorry. It says that the process of Y/N changing her last name is complete. She… she’s officially Y/N Munson-Harrington.”

Steve wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly to his chest. You smiled into the kiss he planted on your lips, reaching for Eddie so he could do the same.

“I just have to update my license and stuff but I can start officially using it now.”

“Y/N Munson-Harrington. You were right, Eddie. It does flow better.” The man grins as he brings your lips down to his again. As your tongue caresses his, your hips start to grind against the gradually growing bulge in his shorts. “Wait, wait, wait, baby. Fuck. What if…Dylan hears us.”

“We’ll have to be quiet then.”, you smirk down at him as his fingers dig into your waist.

“Let’s…let’s go upstairs.”

“Steve, please. It’s been so long.” You reach for his hand and slide it between your legs under your own shorts making his breathing catch in his throat when he feels how wet you are. “I need you both now. Please.”

His eyes flutter closed as his mouth attaches to your neck while you turn to find Eddie who was palming his own bulge through his boxers as he watched you both. Without moving your arms from his shoulders, you adjust your legs so Steve can slide down your shorts and toss them to the side. You hold the cotton blocking your sex to the side as you watch him guide his cock into your entrance.

“God, yes, Steve.” You moan as you continue to grind your hips.

He gently smiles as he licks his lips, hugging your body to his chest as he slides towards the edge of the couch. “So beautiful, honey. Mmm… Mrs. Munson-Harrington.” Steve’s hips thrust up to meet yours and you keen into his neck to cover the moan that wants to escape.

It had been a while since the three of you were sexually intimate and feeling him inside you again felt like brand new euphoric experience. Not just because of the way he felt physically but because after your daughter was born you saw this new side to him; to both of them.

They had always been good fathers to Dylan but to see the way they were with Aurora and you during your pregnancy till now… you would never be able to properly express how much the love you had for them was.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you came. Steve guided your hips with his hands, pumping into you till he grunted into your neck and released his seed inside of you.

When you were finally able to open your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s beautiful brown ones as he looked over your sweaty face before reaching with his hand to wipe your forehead.

You can’t help but giggle. “I told you it was a parent thing…being a human napkin.”

He grinned as he reached for you and climbed off of Steve to sit on the other man’s lap, your back to his chest. His lips tenderly traced your shoulder up to your cheek, meeting your lips as his hand floated down to grip his length and run the tip through your soaking folds.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”, he whispers.

You nod, pressing your nose to the side of his face as he maneuvers his cock into your core. His arms wrap around your stomach and you place your own over his as you hold his hand, panting against his cheek as delivers slow but firm thrusts.

“That feels so good, Eddie.”, you whimper and he moans in response. “Make—mmm—make me cum again, baby. Please.”

“You, f-fuck, you keep talking to me like that and…I won’t last. I could…barely hold myself together—mmm—watching you two.”

You delicately trail tiny kisses along his jaw line, tilting your head so your lips can hover over his ear. “Make me cum, Eddie. Please. Please. It felt so good when my pussy clung to Steve. I want to feel it gripping you as you fill me up.”

“Jesus Christ… Steve…can you…?”

Eddie pumps into you harder as you roll your hips, biting down on your lip when you feel Steve’s fingers press fast circles into your clit.

You stumble over the edge, moaning his name into his neck as you cum. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Eddie’s arms squeeze you tighter to him as he warms your insides with his release.

You groan as he pulls out, lifting slightly to tuck himself back into his boxers before adjusting you in his arms and rising to his feet. He and Steve exchange a few words you barely hear as your heavy eye lids start to fall.

A pleasant sigh leaves your lips when you feel your body being placed on the soft mattress before the room darkens further and you are suddenly incased in warmth. Steve’s arm wraps around your waist, taking your hand in his as he pulls you closer. Eddie reaches for your other palm, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

##############

“Hey, mom.”, Steve greets her with a startled tone as he opens his front door. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

“I just…thought I’d come by…check in.”

Aurora starts to cry from the living room as if sensing her dad is no longer there. “Yeah, um, come in. Come in. Give me one second.” He continues talking to her as he hurries towards his daughter. “Y/N is having lunch with her sister and Eddie is at work so I have the kiddos.”

Dylan smiles politely at her as he glances at Steve who flashes him a reassuring smile of his own. “This little one has been having a rough morning.” He bounces the baby in his arms as he smooths down her hair.

Mrs. Harrington gradually makes her way over to him, reaching out to tickle her side. Aurora sighs as she crashes her body into the woman, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“Whoa!”

“It’s okay, Steve.”, she grins as she pats Ro’s back. “You did the same thing. Every time a new face entered the house, you would practically headbutt them as if that was your way of saying hello.”

Steve’s eyes follow her as she takes a seat beside Dylan who turns his body to face her. “She likes to kick a lot to especially to Eddie’s music!”

Mrs. Harrington laughs making her son smile. “Has she started rolling over yet?”

“Kind of. She tries but then falls back on her butt.”

“Oh! That’s ok. Once she figures it out, crawling will be next and you’ll be running all over this house trying to catch her!” Dylan giggles as she leans closer to him. “Steve used to crawl into his father’s office and drool over everything.”

Your son makes a disgusted face as Steve sticks out his tongue. After taking a seat beside her, Aurora coos as she reaches her hand out to touch the woman’s cheeks.

“She’s been doing that a lot to, pretty much since she was born. She loves pulling on Eddie’s hair.”

“Probably trying to get a feel of what her hair will be like.” Her eyes meet his as she softly smiles knowingly. “Those grabby hands are going to get worse so you may want to tell him to keep his hair up.”

Steve extends his arm around his mother’s shoulder, pulling her to his chest as he hugs her.

###############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @luna-munson83

@notasimp4joey @manda-panda-monium @decadentwombatmiracle

@katie-tibo @marsupiooo @local-stoner-bitch

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@waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog @kik51199

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@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

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@3rriberri @sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 7 months

Note

Do you do requests? If not u can ignore this. Do u know how people say that a hero would save the world over u, when a villain would save u? That w Hiccup. Like Hiccup having to choose between saving y/n or others and he doesn’t choose y/n and then believes she’s dead. That would be the final straw for her and she would eventually start a relationship w the dragon hunters.

Can u tell I love angst😭

Castoff

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Villain!Reader

Words: 2328

The gentle brush of fingertips as they slip apart, the pounding of blood as his heart falls out of your grasp. Those are feelings you are familiar with. Your relationship is one made up of meanings searched for where they are not, a deep care uprooted by a raging current and a single, meaningful mistake.

Tags: Angst, fem!reader, heartbreak, villain reader, unresolved insecurity, anger, canon divergent, first part?, suggestive content, RTTE, Httyd 2, 'Always the Angel, Never the God' adjacent

Next>

He knew before she did. You knew just as long as him. It wasn’t the kind of thing you or anyone else talked about, really, not to anyone but your parents and your true meant-to-be. But it was there. And you knew for the longest time that they were meant for eachother.

You didn’t know that it would have ever ended. Yet somehow, supposedly, it did. You still felt like an outlier, though. Your heart was his for so long that to see them together felt like a betrayal, and to be with him now felt like a betrayal of that.

You saw the look in his eyes, you watched them treat each other so familiarly, watched the others close in around them, perhaps looking to share in the joyful atmosphere, knowing that should you step into the light, the moment would be ruined.

You stepped away from the half open door, back into the darkness of the cabin, wondering how they could be so happy together even after the raid, a skirmish so tough and violent with some new dragon hunters from outside the area, unlike any of the ones you’d dealt with before.

There was true love, romantic love and meant-to-be love.

Brown armor, red shirt, green eyes. Hands held gently, preciously out for your own.

For the longest time, you didn’t have a love, true or meant-to-be. Well, you had a love that was certain to be true, but wrong in that it was made for someone who’d already given his heart to another. A heart that he’d, supposedly, taken back.

Now, you wondered what sort of love he held for you.

You made to reach out, but instead you turned away, missing the look of hurt you knew you would be there. You couldn’t, not with any of the others around.

You didn’t miss the hushed conversation, carried on just the same as it was earlier but in lower tones, the small looks shared between them, the unsaid idea that maybe you just weren’t right. That you were a bad pair.

You knew what would greet you if you looked back; the hurt in his eyes, the loose brows, the slight disappointed tilt of his lips.

You furrowed your brows. You let him down again.

But it didn’t feel right, to love and share love, especially with her so closely there. With the ghost of them ever so present. It filled you with shame.

There was no bitterness held, only guilt born from many nights spent awake condemning yourself for your yearning. It was something you’d long since accepted was meant only for the dark of night, when no one else was awake enough to hear your heart flutter.

You still felt as if he was hers, that you were encroaching on something you weren’t supposed to have. It was a messy situation. They ended amicably, you’d been feeling terribly for a long, long time. You wondered if the feeling, the bone-deep hate for yourself, would ever go away, like you’d dreamed.

You had to stop and wonder when Hiccup the Useless became Hiccup and Useless.

You buried your head into your knees, tired of staring out over the windy clifftop. No number of waves or gusts of wind could brush away your troubles.

You didn’t even miss Berk. You didn’t have a reason to go, nor one to stay. Just a floater, tethered only just so by the tattered, frayed strings of your own heart.

He was sitting next to you, a silent question on his lips, left unsaid but just as clearly heard.

You couldn’t forget how lonely you were, then and before, after he left you. A friend, somehow still physically so close and yet so far out of your reach. How quickly you were othered, how quickly you were labeled a pitiful tag-on. No amount of love, hidden nor shared, could ever make up for that.

Something tense was in the air between the two of you. You refused to give it a name, though you knew what it was just as well. It felt like the end. It felt like a new, terrible beginning. It felt like the heaviness in your gut and the slight burning of your eyes caused by the thin spray.

Your touching fingertips became more as you clutched his hand, squeezing it.

You’d always been the confidant. To have the position switched was odd, unfamiliar. Hiccup was gawky and unsure in your boots. To have your troubles laid out between the two of you, of which there were many, disturbed you. The idea felt like a violation.

So, without the words to speak them, you worked around. You found words you could speak, parts of some that were difficult and some that weren’t and strung them together like the split stems of flowers into a very nearly presentable crown.

You turned to your right, looked at him pleadingly, though you weren’t sure what you were pleading for. Nothing, everything at once, not to leave you behind, not to make you stay.

“Hiccup,” You stared hoarsely, hesitantly. It was silly, it was stupid saying it aloud. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. He never would.

Truly, you had only one question.

“Do you love me?” You asked. He looked confused, startled.

You leaned closer. You couldn’t tell which way he moved, if he moved at all. You imagined he moved away. He waited.

He looked at you expectantly. Unsurely. Why weren’t you moving closer?

You’d never loved or been loved in any sort of way which mattered. The fact that you hadn’t felt like a burden, somehow just another reason as to why you weren’t deserving. An onerous boon that you just wanted to be rid of.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know if you could.

He knew what was supposed to happen next. He’d experienced it; done it and had it done many times over. You hadn’t.

You two hadn’t been that close yet, not at all, not physically. This was not a boundary the two of you had yet crossed. You shared nothing more than a few mumbled words into the neck, a few shared words in your nook, a tight embrace and hands held loosely in the quiet darkness of the night. Promises, dedications. No actions.

The others knew about it, though. They heard the declaration, quiet and uttered as if it was just a casual thing. For him it was. You said nothing.

How could you?

You hesitated, waiting for an answer. Your lips twitched. Your eyes burned, stronger then. You shook your head and dropped his hand, which he let fall to the wayside. Using your hands and the floor, you pushed away.

As always, you couldn’t bear it. He waited for you, just as you didn’t want to be someone to wait for. You wanted to already have it. You wanted back the years you spent wasting away, coveted back the years you spent watching him give what you desperately needed so casually to another.

You stood, then.

It was a surprise when the two of you came together. No one had expected it. It seemed off, out of place. You weren’t sure Hiccup himself had, drifting in the spaces left between after he and her had split paths.

You turned. You held your elbows and hunched your shoulders, turning your back to him and pushing against the wind, which though was light, felt all of the sudden as if it was way too much.

You weren’t sure he meant it. Whether or not this was real or something he’d just fallen into as per convenience.

You did. You meant it. He was your true, he was your romantic.

What kind of love do you hold for me?

You knew the answer, plain and simple.

None. None at all.

You stood in the darkness of your cabin. Your windows were blocked, though you didn’t need the light. You’d been in for a while, you were used to it.

You’d exhausted your usual time-taking avenues, left with nothing but maintenance; folding, organizing, sorting.

It was awkward. Since the clifftop, the two of you were distant. You didn’t avoid each other, but you also didn’t speak. It was a miracle that nothing had happened yet to force the two of you together.

You were beginning to believe that was the end of your relationship. You were having a hard time accepting it, though the feeling was creeping into your heart slowly and you were beginning to feel empty.

You didn’t flinch as the door to your cabin opened, creaking, though you winced as you turned back towards the light, started as he came up, pressing you against the wall.

Your lips met.

It was not rough, more just so. It unbalanced you all the same.

He was unsure, nervous. Clumsy. But it was strong. But it was meaningful. But you could tell he meant it.

You molded into his shape just as he molded into yours. Hesitantly, unsurely, you responded. He was gentle enough to guide you.

Once again, you asked, though not so much in words as actions; Do you love me?

And this time, he responded. Your heart bloomed. Not violently, not roughly, just so, enough for a shining pink petal to crest the green sepal.

Yes. Yes, I do love you.

You were light, you were fervent, you were free. You believed him.

The same hunters from before. The lot of you had gotten captured. You were too distressed to remember if it had been your fault. There were rocks sharpened to a point below you, gray skies and windy, stormy seas rushing tumultuously below.

You were far from the Edge. In unfamiliar territory. Any allies unaware and absent. The dragons, trapped in cages long behind you.

Hunters were sailing away behind you. It was a victory, however it was also one that came with a terrible price. Something had been set off, violently at that, throwing you off the edge of the cliff face, destabilizing the cage held by a chain pinned to the rock above by a thin steel nail.

“Hiccup,” You pleaded, breathlessly as your body struggled to keep up with your weight, with the rope and chains tied around your ankle, “H-elp.”

I need you.

“Just- hold on, the others-” He crouched, glancing frantically between you and the others handing caged off the side. Their chains were thin, yours were thicker though both were just as equally dangerous.

Please, I need you now.

You jerked back as another rope snapped. Unheard by his ears, drowned out by the raucous waves below and by the rattling of empty cages, pushed around in the air. Unseen as his eyes trained on the others.

Hiccup didn’t see, eyes trained elsewhere. There was no time to waste. After all, if he helped you up, in the time that took, they might fall. They would fall.

“Hiccup!” Astrid shouted. Snotlout shouted. You remembered how they looked before you’re been knocked off. Fishlegs panicking, mumbling to himself zealously, distress projected clearly for all to see. Ruffnut and Tuffnut yelled mindlessly into the air, a waning battlecry as the island deteriorated around you

Somehow, in between terror, in between the pain of your ankle as it threatened to snap and the taut muscle of your arms, a grim doom began to worm and thrash and coil in your gut.

“I’m not- I’m not going to make it,” You said desperately, voice crackling, face crunching as tears began to spill over the edge, shoulders straining, holding on just barely.

“Please, there’s-Just, cut me loose-” You prayed, to whichever god was out there, he still had his knife. That he had something sharp. You were going to die.

You could tell he was stressed, overwhelmed, just as panicked. He shifted restlessly, stiffly, perhaps a million times in the last minute. Noise built up in his throat as he spoke but you were unable to hear clearly as your ears filled with buzzing. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t hear your own voice, too breathless and strained to make a sound.

You watched his eyes flicker, you saw the soot on his face and each strand of his hair as it waved in great detail, your world slowing down to a halt.

He stopped. You caught his eyes briefly, you saw as an idea formed, as his resolve hardened, and as he made his choice. You knew it would not be one he made for you.

“Hold on!” Hiccup shouted, as the other’s cries grew more intense, ears deaf to your pleas. He pushed away towards the other side of the cliff, running towards the others as their cage dipped once again.

There was a sharp pain in your chest, as if the nails you dug in with so despairingly were instead gripping your lungs, sharp and unforgiving.

Do you love me?

You were going to die.

You blinked away tears and snot and all the little, tiny shards of your heart that had gotten stuck in your eyes on their way out.

You just had to hold on. You just had to hold on until Hiccup got back.

You shouted something wild, something animal as your fingers gave, numb with cold and sliding loose even as you commanded them to grip tight. You had no way to fight, no thing in which to fight with as your hold weakened on the slippery rock.

Your nails hurt as they worked against rock and loose dirt, fragile roots and falling stones. Your fingers pained as they worked furiously against themselves.

Hiccup left you. He wasn’t going to come back. You were going to die before he came back.

It was like a stake had been shoved into your gut.

Hiccup left you.

You were going to die.

Your vision whited out.

You were going to die.

You couldn't hold on any longer.

You fell.

#bam pow i do do requests #winner prompt #angst central #angst #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #httyd imagine #fem reader #female reader #angst with unhappy ending

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vadersassistant · 1 year

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Endgame Chapter 1 (Darth Vader x Reader)

I am princess of Ethereaan, successor to my parents, the king and queen, even though I was the youngest sibling. My older sister was born with several disabilities, enabling her to not be able to fulfill the role. That left only me to take her place, at the ready to lead a planet all on my own, since I hadn’t courted anyone yet.

“I can’t believe it’s already today,” I said.

“It’ll be great just do what you always do,” Skai encouraged, helping me slip on my dress as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I met her dark eyes, a smile appearing on both of our faces.

“Are you going with anyone?”

“Not as of right now no,” she sighed. “However, if a trooper were to ask me to dance, I’d say yes.”

“Sounds good to me,” I shrugged.

“Are you going with anyone, your highness?” her emphasis was purposed, alluding to my suitors.

“My father refused,” I said. “He wanted me to remain open minded, so the option of courting an imperial still remains.”

I shot Skai a nervous smile, as she gave me a knowing glance. It was clear the two of us agreed on how absurd it was, but still we were at a disagreement. I liked to take the high road, swallowing down the issue and making the most of it, while she preferred acknowledging it, and swindling her way out of it.

“It’s okay, if he believes that’s best then I will do as he says,” I reasoned.

“It would look good for Ethereaan, inner rim and all,” she added. “Especially with the event, you could really make a show out of this.”

“Still a little shocked,” I laughed once we finished up, going towards the door of my bedroom. “Empire Day is such a big deal.”

Empire Day was the anniversary of when the imperials resumed power and the chancellor transitioned to emperor. Every year an inner rim planet was chosen to have a ball for it, hosting hundreds of senators and high-ranking imperials in celebration. Speeches were given, parades planned beforehand, and fireworks at the end. My father and Palpatine were very close, due to Ethereaan’s trading in minerals and weaponry. It made sense that we were chosen for its third year.

Skai was quick to open the door, resuming her handmaiden personality in the process, as I fulfilled my own as princess. We headed over to the dining room to meet with the rest of my family, walking fast but not in a hurry. My posture was like a beam going down my back, as the ends of my dress fluttered naturally. It complemented the Ethereaanian colors well, those being blue and white with silver. The corridor was open, stain glass windows defining the walls while stone floors laid beneath our feet. The large room dawned quickly, my mother and father waiting at the end of the table, perking up when the doors opened.

“Good morning,” I smiled, greeting both.

“Good morning, sleep well?” mom asked.

“Mm, better than usual,” I answered while stretching. I paused, going over to see my sister before sitting down. “Good morning, Karai.”

‘Good morning sister,’ she said through sign language. Karai could hear but couldn’t form sentences, so we used sign language instead. She also couldn’t walk well, which is why we used a wheelchair when she needed to move.

I smiled, and softly squeezed her hand before finding a spot. Before me were blueberry pancakes, with Jawa juice and fruit, made by the palace chefs. I watched as the steam rolled off it, as one of the servants put it down. I mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him as my father stood up, almost at the same time I sat down. He was tall, the tallest person I had ever seen, standing at six four. When he stood up, it often meant his words were to be taken as high demand.

“There have been some recent updates to tonight’s event,” father spoke eloquently but serious. “We are to host a feast beforehand.”

“With whom?” I asked.

“Several high-ranking officers in the Empire,” my mother clarified, seeming uneasy.

“Is there something wrong with them?”

“Lord Vader will be in attendance; we are to escort him and the others personally to the ball.”

There was a moment of silence, my mom looking at my dad like they were telepathically speaking. Her body language was obviously tensed, his similar.

“Who called for this?” I wondered.

“Emperor Palpatine personally asked of it, since he cannot attend this year due to a personal emergency,” dad explained.

“Of course, I understand,” I said.

“Good, you must get ready right away, it is already later than usual,” mom advised. “Arrive at the gaming room, we shall entertain them while all the guests arrive.”

“I will see you then,” I waved to them, standing up as Skai shadowed me.

The moment the doors shut again, and I was out of the public eye, Skai dropped her mannerisms and drew her mouth agape. I watched her press her weight to it, like she wanted to make sure she wasn’t heard.

“Lord Vader?!” Skai whisper-shouted to me as we made our way back to my quarters. “I mean—I knew he was going to be there, but to dinner? Being escorted?”

“If the emperor wills it, we don’t have much of a choice,” I shrugged.

“He is referenced to as the Dark Lord (Y/N),” Skai’s voice was laced with fear. “If I mess one thing up, I could die.”

“So, evade him all you can, nothing will happen,” I assured.

Vader was Lord of the Sith, and Palpatine’s right hand. He was the most powerful force user in the galaxy, like a guard dog to the emperor. He could destroy a planet’s population with no question, he had destroyed many planet’s populations with no question. It was said that darkness followed everywhere he went, his attitude ruthless and unmerciful. It was do or die, and if you didn’t do something right, you died anyways. Everyone knew of his name and what it meant, and only the current rebellion went against it.

Once we got to my room several other handmaidens arrived, makeup, accessories, and outfits in hand. It would be several hours of prodding, but I didn’t mind, I knew it was for the best. I allowed them to get the upper hand, strategizing about the night in the process.

After showering, applying traditional Ethereaan makeup, putting on my dress made for the event, and styling my hair, I was complete. I tried to help as much as I could, but the handmaidens refused every time I raised a hand. The hours flew by naturally by conversation, the time quickly running out. All that was left now was to slip on a pair of heels. I needed to wear a pair that was significant and matched well, but were also easy to move in. There was no doubt I would be dancing tonight, and I knew I’d get blisters if I wasn’t careful.

“All done,” Skai sighed satisfactory.

“Thank you, all of you,” I said, standing and getting a feel for the shoes.

“Of course, milady,” they spoke synchronized, before quickly dismissing themselves.

I watched awkwardly as they left my room, before turning back to my friend and following. The gaming room was on the way to the large dining area, it was like a casino, with a vast number of activities inside. I visited it often when I was free, knowing how to entertain others being a part of my role. A side of me genuinely enjoyed it, often playing against the handmaidens or Skai specifically.

An assortment of lights decorated the place, Skai and I both looking around and taking it in. All the machines had their mechanisms. The Dejarik tables, better known as holochess, blinked in the back of the room. The Sabacc cards were littered around their designated surfaces. The arcade games lined the walls, an assortment of pinball machines taking most of the space. Finally, the pool tables caught my eye, sitting pre-prepared with all fifteen balls set in a triangular shape.

I walked over, picking a pool cue that fit my hand and motioning to hit the white cue ball. I hadn’t played in a while, but I decided it would do.

“I think someone is coming,” Skai told me, as other servants began to filter in. They were carrying drinks, ready to handout.

We both watched the door, and before either of us could spark another conversation it abruptly opened. There were two guards holding either side, and I saw my mother at the front of the crowd.

“You may entertain yourselves here as we await other guests,” she said, welcoming the several men behind her. “This is Grand Admiral Thrawn, Admiral Motti, Admiral Piett, Director Krennic, Admiral Yularen, and Grand Moff Tarkin,” the queen introduced. “Esteemed guests, this is your majesty, Princess (Y/N),” my mother then introduced myself.

“Pleased to meet you all,” I bowed my head obediently.

“We are still waiting on a few, so I shall leave you to it.”

I nodded my mom off, quickly going to personally introduce myself as she left. I shook all their hands, meeting their eyes and acknowledging them. The servants soon followed, offering light alcoholic beverages on a silver platter. I watched as the guards held the doors for several storm troopers as my mom transitioned out. They all silently lined the room, watching in case of emergency. There was always rumor of the rebellion, people trying to take shots at the Empire. Especially at an event like this, security was called for, although I wasn’t sure if anyone would have the gut to do anything with Lord Vader here.

“There is an assortment of games to choose from, I am going to play pool if anyone would like to join me?” I offered.

“I would be honored your majesty,” the odd one out said. He had blue skin, navy hair, and a white uniform.

Thrawn, I repeated his name in my mind as I walked over to the table. The rest followed, making conversation amongst themselves. It seemed they were more interested in watching than playing separately, which I didn’t mind at all. It would be easier to keep track of everyone that way, as more guests arrived.

“You may go first,” I ushered as he picked a pool cue from the rack.

“Thank you,” his smooth but deep voice gratified.

He leaned over the table, his hand outstretched so that the shaft of the stick laid between the thumb and pointer finger. Drawing it outwards, the tip bumped into the cue ball and against the triangle of colored ones. A stripped ball fell into the top left hole, meaning he could shoot again.

I stepped away from the table, allowing for the Chiss to move freely. He went to the right, attempting to hit another stripped ball into the top left. It was better he did so, since that meant he’d be two balls down. It was an easy shot, slipping in gently into the pouch. The admiral smiled victoriously, looking up at me with red eyes.

“Have you played this before?” Director Krennic asked after sipping on his drink. He held the champagne cup almost cockily.

“A few times as of recent, yourself, Director?” Thrawn rebutted.

“Yes,” he sounded amused. It was apparent that he was questionable of the Chiss and his species but wouldn’t openly admit it. “What about you, your highness?”

“Yes, I grew up learning an assortment of activities including this one,” I said, as Thrawn missed his third shot.

My gown flowed as I paced to the other side of the table and looked at my options. The balls were cluttered on one end, making it hard to take an open shot. It would be best to try and angel one to ricochet off the side and into another, not to mention, I had to avoid all colored balls and the eight ball in the process. I was now deep in thought, strategizing while in movement.

Looking at the ball I wanted to hit, I angled the shaft of the cue and bent over. Aiming for the ball, I hit the tip slightly harder than the Admiral, and watched it clash with the wall then the other ball. It slid into the top right corner easily, offering me a second chance.

“Impressive,” Thrawn mused, making me smile.

I lined myself up once more with another ball, a clear opening being made due to my previous shot. I sunk it in once, more tying my score with his. This made the others become more intrigued, quitting their conversation, and coming to watch the game. The setup was now difficult, as the only shot I could sink would most likely be my last. I did it anyways, pressing my hand down onto the tables fabric and practicing the movement. I hit the ball lower than previous, making it roll into the left middle pocket, the cue ball along with it.

I laughed, making the rest of the room join in comfortably, motioning for the Grand Admiral to take the ball. He could now position it wherever he wanted, looking to the bottom right pocket where his previous ball landed. His expression was calculated, like the war general he was. The game was close, too close for anyone to predict its outcome. Thrawn continued to slip the ball in and went for another hit, while an unfamiliar noise came from the hall.

All of the imperials turned, including the Chiss, several adjusting how they appeared. It sounded like a respirator, a methodical breathing sound that was almost rhythmic. I knew it was him.

The doors opened more rigidly this time, and there he stood, my parents behind him.

He was taller than my father, with broad shoulders that held up his cloak. His entire outfitting was black, with armor fitted over a tunic, and a belt meeting his waist where his lightsaber hung. The most prominent feature was his mask, slightly tinted red visors with a modulator at the front. You couldn’t tell whether he was looking at you or not because of it, and no one knew what he looked like underneath in the first place.

I felt something cold run up my back, seeing the others also find a similar fate. It didn’t affect me though, still standing straight with my head facing the Sith. Everyone nodded their head, whispering a ‘my lord’ in harmony. The cold lingered, like it was sitting on my shoulders, wrapping around my figure.

“There are still a few more guests we must attend to,” my father clasped his hands. “We will return.”

“I missed my last shot, your majesty,” Thrawn said right after. I didn’t see it for myself, but I was at no disadvantage by it.

The crowd willingly turned back to the game, seemingly preferring to look at this than the dark lord. I noted that Skai had disappeared as I went back to playing, taking in the situation at hand.

The balls were now all spread across the surface, distanced enough that it was easy to take a shot anywhere. There were nine left, eight if you didn’t include the one you could hit.

The eight ball was guarding the top right pocket, while the cue ball currently sat between the right middle section. My best and only bet was trying to angle my shot so that it would hit the top wall and knock into the other with enough force. That way it would roll into the bottom left corner, since all the other shots were crowded with striped balls.

I needed to hit it hard, my hand placement carefully holding the shaft of the stick. This was my only option, I reminded myself, as I went to hit the cue ball.

“Why take that risk when there are several easier shots?” Grand Moff Tarkin asked.

“If I were to hit this one,” I pointed to the ball that stood by the top left corner. “I would make it, but then wouldn’t be able to hit another.”

“So, you are taking a risker shot instead, in hopes of gaining the lead,” he finished. “And you have trust in yourself that you can do it?”

“I do,” I said.

“Well go ahead then, I apologize for the interruption,” Tarkin ushered.

I nodded and smiled, bending down again to become leveled with the pool cue. I inhaled, getting a feel for the shaft again before exhaling and following through. The ball hit the wall, clashing with the other, and landing almost perfectly into the hole.

“Impressive,” Thrawn murmured.

I went to take another shot but before I could the doors behind us opened and we all shifted.

“It is time for dinner,” my father announced, a few more imperials behind him.

The guests began to follow the king and queen out, but not before I stopped Thrawn.

“I can take that if you like,” I waved my hand out, ushering for his pool cue.

“Thank you, your majesty,” he handed it to me softly, his hand grazing mine. “You are very talented.”

“Thank you, I enjoyed playing,” I admitted.

I put both cues’ away, before returning and noticing that the Chiss had waited for me. With a soft expression he waved for us to walk together, into the corridors of the palace. I couldn’t see the crowd ahead, due to Vader’s cape billowing in front of us as we left. We were all very close and compact though, and due to my knowledge of the layout it wasn’t an issue. I simply walked with my hands behind my back, as we made conversation.

“Your planet is beautiful, the best venue so far for this event.”

“I agree, I am glad we’ve been given the opportunity to do this,” I nodded.

“Do you explore the city often?” he asked.

“Yes, when I can I like to interact with it as much as possible,” I answered.

“Perhaps I will have to see it for myself.”

We stopped at a dead end, the entrance to the dining room now in front of us. I turned around, hearing a rolling sound, only to see my sister in her wheelchair, and Skai behind. Thrawn quickly noticed as well, bowing his head to her before entering the large room. It was magnificent, a long table with an uncountable number of chairs around it, and large chandelier overhead. Banners and windows decorated the walls, our family crest imprinted on most.

It was a known thing that Lord Vader didn’t sit or eat at events, so a chair wasn’t offered for him. Instead, nametags located each person to their seat, my parents sitting at the front of the table. Next to my father on the left side was my sister, then myself, then Grand Moff Tarkin. Grand Admiral Thrawn was next to my mother, the Director next to him, and a stream of admirals down both sides. We all pulled out our own seats, Karai sitting in her wheelchair close to the table. Lord Vader came to Tarkins side, standing behind the two of us. His shadow would have entirely covered me if the light wasn’t in front of us. I didn’t think much of it though, instead turning my attention to my sister as glasses of water were set down on the table.

“Are you excited?” I asked her, forming sign language with my hands.

‘Kind of, I hope the food is good,’ she answered.

“I’m sure it will be,” I answered, continuing to sign to her.

She didn’t enjoy large events like this, the crowds and lights often overstimulating her. She would most likely be at the ball for a bit in the beginning and then circle around the venue with Skai, where less people were.

“Can you speak fluently in sign?” Grand Moff Tarkin asked me.

“Yes, I chose to learn it at a young age,” I told him.

“Why?” he wondered. “I thought a child would not be motivated to take on such a tedious task.”

I noticed Vader turned his helmet, looking down at me as I spoke.

“I wanted to be able to communicate with my sister in a way that was convenient for her,” I said.

“Even though it was laborious for yourself?”

“I never found it laborious to begin with, I only thought about what it would do for her.”

“Your actions are commendable, Princess (Y/N), the emperor has spoken highly of you,” Tarkin commented.

“I am honored,” I thanked him.

My father made a toast before the food was served and soon enough, we were eating. I felt odd for most of the process, although I couldn’t place why. It was like someone was watching me, like something was resting on my shoulders, a comforting weight that felt protective. I thought it would leave once we made our way to the venue, but it never did, it just lingered.

The walk there was calming. After a long dinner and discussion, we were outside while the sun set, walking on the docks over to the ballroom. It was separated from the palace, but still on the lands where it was located, surrounded by the lakes. The sun set over us, while the trees shaded patches of the path we walked on. I was at the front of the crowd, walking with my sister and Skai while my parents spoke to Tarkin behind. It seemed everyone was still on edge due to the dark lord, Skai especially being unnerved, as he walked right behind her.

I looked at her as she held a death grip on my sister’s wheelchair, attempting to look as professional as possible. My face was like stone, remaining neutral without a hint of discontent. The only thing on my mind was the conversation behind me, my fathers authoritative voice being hard to block out.

“Do you plan to continue aiding the Empire in the future, and extending the contract?” Tarkin asked my father.

“Yes, we hope to.”

“Hoping and doing have two separate meanings,” a baritone voice replied, the sound of Lord Vader’s breathing stopping when it came. I knew it was him, for the first time this entire night, he had spoken.

“Of course, my lord, we will extend the contact when the time comes,” my father said, almost timidly.

The conversation was cut short at that moment, reaching the venue. You could hear the noise coming from inside, the sound of a live orchestra, and talking specifically. Hundreds of people stood, lights blaring as food was served by droids and music filled the ears of everyone passing. The doors opened and an uproar of cheers followed, welcoming the main hosts into the room.

The night went smoothly but rather quickly. I couldn’t count how many people I had spoken with, let alone had to dance with. That included Thrawn, who was the first to ask when he had the chance. I mostly traveled around, meeting people, and greeting anyone and everyone I saw. I hadn’t seen my parents much, but that was a natural consequence in this kind of arena.

The most prominent people were the storm troopers, who lined the entire space. They were clones, taken from the previous war and recommissioned after the republic fell. The way you could tell was their voice, all of them having the same accent when speaking. Skai thought they were cute; I knew she was around here somewhere. Occasionally I’d check to see if she was dancing with someone in the center, but it hadn’t seemed to happen yet.

This was one of those times, as I weaved through tables of congregating people and made my way to the dance floor. I looked at the duos of people slowly swaying with one another, hoping to point out her straight black hair in the crowd. She still seemed to have disappeared, but I didn’t mind it as long as she was fine. The time would come, and I would never let her live it down when it did.

I turned around, sighing almost defeatedly when I saw that someone had approached me. The people that were once close to me had spread out and turned their backs, the reason why standing dead in my tracks. I looked up, as a shadow towered over my figure. It was only now that I realized the weight on my shoulders never left.

“Your highness, I did not get to properly make an acquaintance with you earlier, I do apologize,” Lord Vader said.

“Oh, no worries my lord,” I replied.

“Have you had the opportunity to dance with anyone?” he asked. His voice was intimidating and commanding. Vader stoked fear in anyone he came near, the exact reason why the two of us weren’t near anyone else.

“Yes, it has been quite enjoyable to be able to,” I answered.

“I presume I may as well, princess?” Vader followed up.

“Of course.”

I was extremely surprised but tried not to think much. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, becoming quickly consumed by what was about to happen. Vader lent me his hand, bringing me to where the rest were. The song had changed, the orchestra shifting to a tune that sounded romantic but not distinct enough to name.

Dancing with Thrawn had been methodical, he was incredibly experienced at it, his footwork riding against my own. The rest also had their own special touches, and as the night went on it became apparent that they shared a common goal. But that was nothing like this, this was different. I was dancing with death, the dark lord of the Sith, the most powerful man in the galaxy. He could easily snap my neck if he wanted, and yet I reminded myself he hadn’t.

The Sith’s hand was much larger than mine, his touch very strong but shockingly gentle. If I wanted to free myself, I wouldn’t be able to, but it was comfortable, not harsh. I thought it might squeeze me to death at first, but it was the pure opposite. Vader’s other hand slowly rested on the small of my waist, circling to my back. My hand sat on his breast armor, shoulder placement feeling unnatural due to height difference. His cloak covered the two of us, the front of my vision entirely corrupted by the man in black.

Finally, our other hands interlocked, mine once again becoming small in his. So far, it had been the same experience as the rest, up until I felt something creep up my back. It was that same cold wind, the weight on my shoulders spreading to my entire body, pulling me close to him. I unexpectedly wavered, what felt like a haze washing over my senses completely. It felt like something had invaded my mind, a feeling I had never experienced but was able to place. I blinked hard out of shock, assuming it would go away, but was surprised when dark tendrils came into my peripherals.

It was only for a moment, but relief came along with it. I looked around, everything was blocked out except for him. I couldn’t hear anything but the music, and Vader’s breathing.

“How?” I doubted myself, thinking I was going insane. I tried to let go of him to rub my eyes, but his grip was far too strong to attempt it.

“Do not resist,” Vader spoke. “Look at me, do not worry about anything else.”

It felt like my legs were moving on their own, and I hadn’t even realized I was still dancing until I looked up at him. It was the force, all of this, was him. I felt helplessly relaxed in his hold, protected beyond compare. It was like his presence was everywhere, all consuming and invading. This was not the same experience as the rest, it was better. I found myself entranced, and enjoying this, as the lights felt like they had dimmed.

Still a million thoughts ran through my mind, wondering why this was happening in the first place. He showed affection for no one, most thought if he was to marry it would be with another Sith if it was possible. They thought he was too powerful for anyone else, that he couldn’t love someone.

“Sith do not have to marry one another.”

My eyes widened up at him, realizing the rumor that he read minds was true. Suddenly, I felt vulnerable, wondering if the crowds also heard his words. Part of me wondered what the people would think of this in general, whether the Empire would point it out in the tabloids. I had no shame in dancing with him, but it could change my planet’s reputation forever.

“No one can hear this conversation but the two of us, this event will not be remembered by anyone if you do not wish for it,” the Sith read my mind for the second time, and I felt my face heat up.

“How is that possible?” I asked. I believed his words; my question was out of genuine curiosity.

“Search your feelings, your memories will remind you,” Vader ushered.

The conversation between Skai and I replayed in my mind. I knew, I just didn’t want to admit how powerful he truly was. I didn’t want to admit how much I was enjoying this. The fact that I condoned his merciless killing, and the fact I was in the arms of a man that could do horrific things without blinking an eye.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed dancing,” I admitted, hoping to shift the conversation.

“I don’t.”

“We can stop,” I assured him almost naturally. “I don’t want this to bother you.”

“No, this does not apply,” the force kept me in place as he spoke.

“How so?”

“Because the reason you offered to stop, you differentiate from every single person in this vicinity.”

“I understand,” I maintained eye contact, swallowing almost nervously, because in truth I had no clue what he meant.

“Do you?” he asked me.

“I want to,” I said.

“You shall.”

The cold feeling that once laid on my back now felt warm, a tingly sensation in my mind that rested gently. The song ended, and we stayed together, the haze around me fading. Once I noticed, I was quick to take in my surroundings, easing back into the sound of chattering. My sights rested on a girl with long, straight black hair, and a tall man with blonde shaved hair and strong jawline.

She seemed to notice too, her eyes locking onto mine, and within and instant, Vader turned to see what shocked me so much. Skai looked owlish, holding onto a clone who had different armor than the rest. She looked me up and down, as I remained a neutral face, but a slight waver in my lips made it clear I agreed with her surprise. She had danced with the Storm Troopers captain, while I had danced with the lord of the Sith.

I watched as Skai looked up to meet Vader’s gaze and immediately looked away. She was terrified, but also flustered looking at the clone before her. He was handsome, not my type, but handsome.

I returned to Vader, having yet to be released from his grasp, his respirators sound being the most consistent thing of the night.

“Thank you, your highness,” he said, as if nothing happened.

“It was an honor, my lord,” I left in harmony with him, the two of us splitting.

I needed fresh air, to get away from the overwhelming lack of space amidst the crowd. I saw Skai leaving too, heading towards the opposite door that I was. I assumed she was returning to Karai, who most likely was outside. My heart rate picked up; I could feel it.

I hurried towards the outdoor corridor, swallowing harshly as I met the cold nights air. I needed something, anything to snap me out of whatever just happened. I was intrigued of all things, a part of me wondering if it would ever happen again. The sound of Vader’s breathing had disappeared in exchange for crickets chirping in by the tall grasses and the sound of the lake water moving about. All of it so harmonious and yet I couldn’t relax to it. I needed something new to latch onto, something that would stay constant.

It sounded like something pressurized hit a surface. I looked around, to see absolutely nothing different, and yet there was now a repetitive beeping sound ringing in my ears. At first, I thought I was hallucinating, forcing myself to create the pattern in my mind so that I would calm down. It was only when it began to speed up that I realized the severity of the situation.

My eyes wandered to the stain glass window as my hands held onto the rail behind me. I looked just a bit closer at it, to see a subtle blinking light on a small circular dome. It was only a moment later that the noise got too fast, and I saw the door at the end of the hall open, but there was no time to see who it was. The sound was so loud that it felt like my eardrums blocked it out, a fire of red and orange fumigating my senses as I tried to cover my face with one arm. It was a stupid move I decided, closing my eyes shut, only for them not to open.

FIRST CHAPTERRR its totally not like 5k words but wtv it only gets better from here.

NOTE: Karai's disabilities are based on my experiences IRL since I have family who struggles with it. Hope you enjoyed!

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #star wars x reader #suitless darth vader x reader

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